"That Wasn't Me"

Disclaimer: As much as I would love to, I don't own anyone/anything except my OC. Credits for the song "That Wasn't Me" go to Martina McBride. Also, I don't imply that Liz is anything like the Liz in the story – I was just too lazy to think of another name. Heh. Please enjoy!

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I know she must've cut you deep
She's gone but you won't let her leave
I know your heart has not healed yet
But sometimes I think that you forget

John groaned as the last remnants of him flowed from his body through to Mariscka's. She smiled contentedly as he held her close to himself, feeling his racing heartbeat as they cooled down after the hour of ecstasy that they had just experienced.

Mariscka closed her eyes, leaning satiatedly against John and running a finger lightly up and down his bare chest.

He could barely keep his eyes open as he stroked her hair tenderly. As he drifted off to sleep, he murmured, "I love you, Liz."

Mariscka's jaw tense involuntarily as she clenched her eyes tightly, willing the tears to stay back. After all that she had done, after all this time, it wasn't her who resided in his heart, it was still Liz – his ex-fiancee.

John and Mariscka had been best friends for years, longer than she could remember. They had dated briefly in high school, nothing serious; he hadn't gotten past second base. After a really short courtship, they decided that it was better that they remain as friends. Or rather, he had decided.

Mariscka had no say in the decision.

She had accepted it, but it didn't mean that she liked it. But hey, being best friends was way better than being a girlfriend, right? You could change girlfriends as often as you changed your underwear, but you don't change best friends, right? Or so she comforted herself.

Mariscka had seen John through the rest of his high school years, listening to his gripes about life, helping him with his schoolwork, advising him how to best go after the girl of his (often changing) dreams, everything that a friend would do throughout their adolescence. They hung out at each other's houses often, sharing everything about their lives with each other. Everything. They continued their best friendship all the way through college – she was even his date for the prom.

Then, Liz came into his life.

Mariscka didn't trust Liz as far as she could throw her. And well, Liz pretty much felt the same way about her. Liz didn't like John to meet up with or even speak with Mariscka, throwing the mother of all tantrums once when she found out that John and Mariscka had met once for a late night pizza.

For a period of time, it strained the friendship. Liz's control over their friendship continued until John put an end to it – he told her that she would have to accept Mariscka as being part of his life, or not be part of it at all. Thereafter, she tolerated Mariscka – but just barely. It wasn't to say that she was nice to or, heaven forbid, friendly towards Mariscka, but she was polite enough.

Mariscka and the rest of John's friends had tried to warn him that Liz wasn't in it for the long-haul, that she was just after what she could get from him. But, he had laughed off all their caution. After awhile, they just stopped – if he wouldn't care about his own life, why would they bother? All of them, except Mariscka of course.

She looked out for John, stepped in where she could to mediate quarrels, took the rap for things that should have been done but weren't, covered for Liz when she indiscriminately left obvious clues that John wasn't the only guy she was seeing and the list continued. It wasn't because she liked Liz or thought her good enough for John, but didn't being best friends mean looking out for the other; even at the expense of your own happiness?

She had seen other guys, been with other guys, slept with other guys; but whenever John needed her, she had gone running to him. She was his girl Friday. The last guy she had dated had made a snide comment when he had dumped her for that very reason, that she would never have a proper relationship with any other guy as long as she continued to be John's willing doormat.

Had it all been worth it?

About a year back, John found out that Liz was seeing someone on the side in the worst way possible – he walked in on them. After a whole lot of yelling, a whole lot of tears, a whole lot of recriminations and anger, he had run to Mariscka, as he had always done.

It was so reminiscent of their high school days, when John'd come running to her after breaking-up with his girlfriend of the time – to seek advice, to seek comfort, to seek solace.

This time though, he had come to her drunk. And as she held him soothingly, as she had done so many times before, she felt his hands wandering across her body, touching her in places that he shouldn't have. She felt his lips forcibly on hers, as he tore her dress off. Instead of pushing him off, she allowed him access to her body – it was what a friend would do, wasn't it? A friend wouldn't turn a hurting friend away at his weakest moment, right? A friend would do whatever it took to be there for their friend…

Whatever Mariscka was thinking disappeared into white oblivion as a searing pain pierced through her as John entered her suddenly, without any notice.

Mariscka lay there, wincing as John pumped on top of her. She had fantasized so many times about this. But, in her fantasies, John was making sweet, tender love to her; it was never of a drunk John using her body as a receptacle for his alcohol and anger-driven lust.

Yet, as the warm sun rays hit them the morning after, Mariscka found herself again holding John, stroking his back tenderly as he whispered to her that she was the best friend that any guy could ever have.

And now, slightly more than a year later, Mariscka found herself still in the same position as that night. John had taken it that she was okay with being his fuckbuddy, choosing to call on her for "friendship with the perks" whenever the need directed him. To be fair to him, it had gotten better since that first night. But, what Mariscka wanted was more than that – she didn't want just his body, she wanted his heart.

That wasn't me
That wasn't me
I'm not the one
Who made love bring you to your knees
You can't love if you can't trust
Her memory's hurt you long enough
Let your heart see
That wasn't me

She had casually asked him if he would consider getting into a relationship; not specifically with her, but with any other woman. He had laughed off the suggestion, saying that getting burnt once was more than enough and that hurting was better than being hurt. She had gently tried to correct his perception, to tell him that taking the chance to love once again was always a risk to his heart, but could bring him the greatest joy that he had ever known. He had laughed yet again and told her that he had thought that Liz was the one, the one who could make him happier than he thought possible; but fate had proven him so wrong.

Randy, the only one who knew of their 'arrangement' and was strongly against it because he knew that Mariscka would end up being hurt, then broached the subject with John. He had brushed it aside, saying that Mariscka was the only girl who really understood him and the only girl that he'd ever fully trust and he didn't want to ruin the friendship by taking it beyond what it currently was.

That hurt.

She had tried to probe, to get him to see that he would have no chance of moving forward if he allowed his past to constantly haunt him. After a few rhetorics, she had given up. It was obvious that, even though she was not physically in his life, Liz still had a strong hold around his heart. And from what she reckoned, there would be no change in that in the foreseeable future.

I can no longer pay the price
For damage done by her careless lies
We can't move on 'til you let go
I always thought by now you'd know

How much longer would Mariscka be able to take this life? How much longer would she be able to put her own life on hold for a man whom she had loved for the greater part of her life but showed no sign of ever reciprocating?

John wouldn't admit it to anyone but Mariscka knew. She knew him well enough to know. He was afraid. He was afraid to love again because he didn't want to get hurt. Instead, he'd choose to be a player – to use women the way he had been used. And while logically, she could see where he was coming from, she questioned why it had to be her that had to be used.

Mariscka wondered if there was something wrong with her. How many women would die to be in her position – not only was she the best friend of one of the most eligible bachelors in the WWE but she was the woman who constantly warmed his bed. Yet, why did she feel so empty inside? Why did she feel so used, so dirty?

Mariscka gently lifted John's heavy arm from across her torso, being careful not to disturb his sleep, walking unsteadily to the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face and stared into the mirror. Who was she? What had she become?

That wasn't me
That wasn't me
I'm not the one
Who made love bring you to your knees
You can't love if you can't trust
Her memory's hurt you long enough
Let your heart see
That wasn't me

She treaded wearily to the writing desk at the corner of the room. She pulled out a piece of paper and stared blankly at it, not knowing if she should write the letter, not knowing how to put more almost two decades of friendship on paper.

Knowing she'd never do it if she didn't start now, Mariscka heaved a sigh and began.

"Dearest John,

For the past 18 years, you've been my one-time boyfriend, my best friend and mean more to me than, I think, any friend ever will. We've had our good times – we created so many fun and beautiful memories together, memories I'll always hold dear to my heart.

You know that I've never really like Liz much, but I saw how happy she made you and that made me happy. I just want the best for you, John. Seeing you sad, seeing you shed tears while you're asleep, it hurts me as well.

I don't know if you know – I think you should know, cos I think everyone knows – Liz was not the only one who loved you.

I love you.

I've loved you since we met along the hallways of our high school. I loved you while we were dating. I have never stopped loving you. Even now, I still love you.

I question myself and ask myself if I am beyond hope. Why am I constantly available to a man who is in love with another woman? Why am I spreading my legs for him every time he wants it? We spend so much time together and do so many things together, more so than most couples. But… Am I that unloveable that he can only sleep with me but not love me? Sometimes, I really hate you for the way that you've treated me all these years – for the constant confidence you have that I will always be here for you regardless of who you're with or what you've done.

But, you're my best friend. And I still love you.

I wish things could have turned out differently. I wish things weren't the way they are. I wish things didn't have to end. But, I can't go on like this, John. I can't let my heart go on this constant up and down cycle. I don't know why things are the way they are. Maybe someday, I will.

Things are going to change between us once you've read this. Maybe, you'll stop being my friend altogether. I don't know but whatever the case, this… What we have, what we're doing… It has to stop. I hope I'm strong enough, no matter what happens.

I love you, John. There'll always be a very very soft spot in my heart for you.

But now, it's time to think of me.

I pray that the pain will go away. I just want to be able to love. And, I just want to be loved.

I don't ask that you love me in return. I just ask that you be fair to me.

You're always in my prayers, John. And my heart's constant prayer right now is that you know that you were truly loved.

You deserve the best, you deserve your happiness and I promise you that one day you will get it.

Love,

Mariscka"

Mariscka looked at the letter she had just written, a single solitary tear slipping down her cheek, smudging her signature. She turned her head to look at the man sleeping peacefully on her bed. She turned back to her letter, hesitating, before folding it neatly.

She walked over to the bed and gently ran her fingers through John's short hair.

She sighed again, emotions welling over her.

She walked back to the desk, standing by the side of it for a good five minutes.

Heaving yet another sigh, she tore the letter and let the quarters fall from her fingers into the waiting wastepaper bin.

Another tear found its way down her cheek as she climbed back into bed and circled her arms around the still slumbering John.

A real friend would be there for another friend at all costs, right?

You can't love if you can't trust
Her memory's hurt you long enough
Let your heart see
That wasn't me