Yay, another update! To make up for the wait since the last update, I present to you all another chapter. Thank you to everyone who favorited, followed, and reviewed this story, as well as adding me to your author alerts/favorites list! Bless you all!
"You could have called," Colby finally spoke. All that frustration that built up inside of him finally began to spill. "You know that I hadn't changed my number since we were fourteen; you could've just called me."
"I told you, Colby. Things are complicated," Lara sighed.
"Lara, I may not have seen you for all these years, but you know that I know you better than anyone else, and you're not the type who'll let some smug asshole stomp all over you. I want to know what happened to the girl who put me in a chokehold because I ran into Razor Ramon at the supermarket. The girl who wasn't afraid to arm-wrestle the local bully. The girl who was so stubborn she refused to admit the WWF was better than WCW."
"Colby, I'm still that same girl," protested Lara, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. This wasn't how she pictured her reunion with Colby.
"Then prove it."
Doubt ran through Colby's mind. How could he expect her to be the same person after she'd gone AWOL on him for all these years? Did she really expect him to fully embrace her when she'd suddenly shown up without a word? He'd been nothing but utterly perplexed with his emotions—thrilled and excited to see her, yet frustrated and angry, while at the same time, curious and very intrigued—for the past couple of hours.
She'd definitely grown since he last saw her; she was far more beautiful than he remembered. Before she left Davenport she was cute as hell just in the midst of puberty: a couple of pimples here and there and a few inches shorter than she now stood. Eleven years later, however, he could hardly believe his eyes that evening when he saw a blossomed rose standing before him. Her ginger red, pin straight hair now flowed down to her waist in sleek auburn waves, and her once slightly plump frame had shed all of its baby weight and unveiled shapely, womanly curves with legs that went on for days. Her freckly skin had somehow disappeared and now glowed like porcelain. Yet her eyes—almond shaped jewels of jade—hadn't changed from the moment they met as kids.
Her choice in clothing was different, yet it still showed hints of the Lara Lemay that he used to wrestle in his backyard. However, he could tell from the heavily done makeup and perfectly set curls that something changed within her.
"How am I supposed to prove that I'm me?" snapped Lara. Now there was that stubborn streak he knew too well. "Colby, I came all the way from Beverly Hills to watch you wrestle. If keeping my promise after all these years isn't enough for you, then I don't know what is."
"Lara, I'm thinking about a lot of things right now, and you coming all the way from wherever you were is one of things on my mind, but something that's been nagging me all night is why. Why after eleven years of never calling, texting, messaging, or any form of contact, do you suddenly decide you show up?"
"I keep telling you, Colby, it's because of that promise—"
"I know about the damn promise, Lara. And I know that during those eleven years, you moved out of Davenport, got a job, and have been married to that rich guy since. But I want to know what really happened, and what made you change your mind."
"Yes, a lot of things happened, Colby, but I don't know if I can, or want, to tell you anymore," Lara began to get frustrated, "yes, I'm not exactly the same as I was before, but that doesn't mean you haven't changed at all either. To be honest, Colby, I didn't expect you to welcome me back with open arms, nor did I even think you were going through all this trouble to bring me backstage! We haven't seen each other in years and now we're back again, great! Now let me go so Pam won't tear her hair out over me!"
Knowing that she would rip his head off if he argued back, Colby sighed and gave up. "Fine, I'll let you go. But promise me one thing." He sighed, reaching into his bag to retrieve his notebook.
"Another promise?" scoffed Lara, rolling her eyes, "seriously? Do you want me to promise to attend your retirement party or your Hall of Fame induction fifty years from now?"
Colby couldn't help but let out a slight chuckle. He pulled out a pen and tore off a page from his notebook, scribbling down his contacts. He folded the piece of paper and handed it to Lara. "I want you to promise that you'll never lose sight of me, that you'll text, call, email, Skype, whatever the hell you want. When I ask you how your day goes, please tell me how your day goes. When you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you. When you want to call me up to hang out, then don't hesitate; I'll be in the Los Angeles area for the next couple of days."
Staring down at Colby's cell phone number, Skype name, and email address, Lara returned a small smile. Colby watched as she slipped the piece of paper into her purse. "We're not exactly on the right page here, Colby, but you still want to be friends?"
"I nearly lost you once, Lara, and I don't want it to happen again."
Lara glanced down at the slip of paper that had been sitting on her bedside table since she returned home from the show. All she could think about since coming back was Colby; his words continued to echo in her head from the moment Pam dropped her off in front of the house to when she'd dried her damp hair after a long shower.
Tonight's meeting was no mistake. She'd willingly agreed to attend the show with Pam, had the most fun she'd had in a long time watching the thing she loved and had not appreciated in forever, and, by some miracle, got summoned backstage to unite with her best friend from childhood. She couldn't believe she'd missed out on all this because of Hans…
Hans! Oh no! He can't know about this!
Hans had turned her into the picture perfect model of a trophy wife; the last thing he needed to hear was that she'd gone behind his back and went to watch sweaty, half-naked men brawling in a wrestling ring. Lara gulped; she was in for a long period of nervousness and anxiety whenever she was around him.
Suddenly, her phone beeped to signal an incoming text message. Of course, it was Hans. Lara knew what was coming. Hans never made an effort to contact her unless he needed something, and it was usually requests for her to go to the supermarket to make him a 'welcome home' meal or last minute toiletries from the drugstore, such as specific (and expensive) brands of aftershave or cologne. And of course, in true Hans Epperly fashion, he would end his text with a degrading, masochist comment towards her that made her feel worthless.
Laramie, I need you go to CVS and get me my Gillette razors; my last one here fucking broke and now I look like a drug addict. And make me that chicken and pasta dish you made for me when I came back from New York two weeks ago. The food out here is great but it's not the same as having an attractive woman make it for me exactly the way I like it. Anyway, babe, remember to look presentable when I come back; I didn't marry you for nothing.
There wasn't even a 'hi', 'how are you', 'please', or 'thank you', just like every single text he would send her. He treated her like she was his maid or something, snipping at her heels while she picked up after him. Seth's words echoed in her head…
When you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you. When you want to call me up to hang out, then don't hesitate; I'll be in the Los Angeles area for the next couple of days…
At this point she'd had enough. Now that the window of opportunity had burst open, she was ready to step right into it. She picked up her phone and dialed the number scribbled on the piece of paper.
Hans can go fuck himself in hell. She was going to take the chance and prove to Colby that she hadn't changed since day one.