Chapter 2
Stephanie slipped quietly into the hotel suite and closed the door behind her softly. She didn't want to wake Paul up. She just wanted to get in there next to him in the bed unnoticed so she wouldn't have to face another interrogation.
No such luck.
"Stephanie? You've finally decided to grace me with your presence," Paul Levesque said in ominous tones.
Stephanie looked over and just barely made out his muscular form sitting over on the couch in the dark. She flipped on a dim light and looked at him wearing an expression similar to that of a deer caught in the headlights. He had his arms folded and he looked angry.
"Where the hell have you been?" he asked her calmly.
"I've been out with the girls," she answered. It was always the same excuse. She really needed to think of a better one sometime soon.
"Don't lie to me," he said. "I've talked to all the girls, and none of them have seen you since we were at the arena."
"Are you sure?" she asked in a desperate voice.
"I'm positive. Sit," he ordered, patting the space next to him on the couch. "Now."
"I'm just fine standing up," she said, trying to choose her words carefully.
"Sit," he said again.
"I'd really prefer to stand up," she stated quietly, looking down at her shoes.
"I didn't ask you," he said, standing up quickly and physically forcing her to sit. He sat down next to her. "I don't understand you, baby. First you stay out all night. Then you lie to me about who you've been hanging out with. And now you don't even want to sit down next to me."
"It's not like that, Paul," she said.
"Then what's it like?" he asked, clenching his teeth. "And who have you been with tonight?"
"I haven't been with anyone," she said. "I've been by myself all night."
"Stephanie, my dear, you know I hate it when you lie to me," he said. "I'll ask you once more. Who have you been with?"
"No one!" she yelled, looking at him and quickly looking away. "Don't you have any faith in me anymore?"
"I have faith in you, but I can tell when you're lying. You can't look at me when you lie," he said. "Now this is your last chance to tell me the truth before you face the consequences for lying to me."
"I haven't been with anyone," she repeated stubbornly. She wasn't going to tell him that she'd been with Chris.
"Your choice," he said shortly.
"Please, no," she pleaded in a low voice. She knew what he was going to do. And she dreaded it.
He drew his hand back and slapped her hard across the face. He grabbed a handful of her long hair and forced her to look at him. "Care to tell me the truth now?" he asked.
"I am telling you the truth," she whispered, bringing her hand up to touch her stinging face. "I was off at my office planning your surprise birthday party and I fell asleep at my desk."
"Oh." He looked at her and immediately an apologetic look appeared on his face. "I'm sorry, baby."
"It's ok," she mumbled in a low voice, even as her own hot tears blinded her.
He got up off the couch and walked around the room pulling his own hair. "What's wrong with me? You make me crazy because you're so wonderful. I just keep wondering what I did that made God decide that I deserve you..." His voice trailed off as he kneeled down in front of her. "You know I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you, baby. It's just that I know that so many guys want you and I always think you'd be tempted to cheat on me. I'm not the greatest catch, you know?"
"Don't say that," she said, still holding her cheek and refusing to look at him. In her mind, she agreed with him whole-heartedly. He wasn't the greatest catch, not by a long shot.
"It's just so hard, baby. I feel like I don't have everything that other men have to offer you, so whenever you're not here I always think that you're with some other guy... Maybe with a guy who's better than me, or more attractive than me," he said. He took her hand in his while reaching up to touch the bruise that was already starting to form on her face. "I'm really sorry. I'll never hit you again."
"It's ok," she said again. "Could you please just get me some ice out of the refrigerator?"
He hurried over to the refrigerator and came back moments later with an icepack. He gently put it up to her face where he'd slapped her. She winced at the contact of the cold icepack on her stinging face but then relaxed a little as the ice helped to alleviate the burning pain. He kissed her face softly and after a while, he removed the icepack.
He kissed the place where he had slapped her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, standing up and pulling her to her feet as well. "Come to bed with me and I'll make it better for you."
"I'm not really in the mood," she said. "I just want to go to sleep."
"You can't," he said. "I'd feel so bad about this and then I wouldn't be able to sleep." He took her hand and led her into the bedroom. He went back to turn off the dim light, then joined her in the bedroom. "Let me make it better, Steph. Let me make love to you."
She gave a resigned sigh. There was no point in trying to argue with him. "Ok, Paul..."
He kissed her softly as he undressed her. He placed soft kisses over the place where he'd slapped her, as if his lips could magically heal the bruise. Then, after a few minutes of what he believed was foreplay, he slowly pushed into her with a low groan. She moaned softly as he started moving inside of her.
"I'll never hit you again," he promised as he glided in and out of her. He kissed her, then pulled back to look at her as he kept going. "I'll never hurt you again."
"I know," she replied. She closed her eyes and put her arms around him. Tears leaked out of her closed eyes, rolled down her face, and wet the pillow. Sure, she'd told Chris that Paul would never hurt her physically, but she had lied. This wasn't the first time he'd hit her... But maybe this time he was sincere. Maybe this time he really wouldn't hit her anymore...
An hour later, she looked at the clock and listened to Paul snoring next to her. The clock read 4:11 A.M. She sighed and closed her eyes, knowing that she would need her sleep. She fell into a restless sleep and dreamed of Chris...