He ignored the guilt coursing through him, ignored every last bit of it as he walked backstage, angrily shoving the curtains out of his way. He was tired, and he was sore, but he didn't care. He got looks from certain workers and wrestlers backstage, but he didn't give a shit. His breathing was slightly labored as he went over the match in his head. Every last move, every last action that had gone down in that ring ran itself over and over again repeatedly in the Canadian's head, and he just couldn't get it to stop…
She deserved it, he convinced himself. She was the one that turned on him, not the other way around. She was the one that slapped him, even when he tried to apologize to her for accidentally shove her down. How in the hell was he supposed to keep his promise when she would so blatantly turn on him like that?
And then, to add insult to injury, she had tried to pin him. He felt the guilt slowly dissolve and anger creep up into its place.
She has some fucking nerve…
His hands balled into fists as he walked down the hallways with a purpose. He felt someone reach out and grab his arm, but he angrily pulled away as he continued walking. He had to see her, he had to get some answers from her, or he was going to lose his sanity altogether.
Finally, he reached his destination: Stephanie's dressing room. There were three large security guards standing in front of the door, their arms all crossed over their chests. Chris walked right up to the one in the middle, looking up at the taller man, his teeth clenched.
"Is she in there?" He demanded in a cut and dry tone. The security guard looked at the man who was in front of him. The blonde wrestler wasn't that big, at least, not bigger than him, but there was a fire burning in the man's blue eyes.
"Yeah, she's getting her things."
"I want to see her, and I want to see her now." Chris said, his fists clenching tighter. There was no room for argument in his tone. One of the security guards on the side stepped forward, not afraid of this wrestler who was considerably shorter and half the size of guys he'd dealt with before. However, the guard who Chris was speaking to directly intercepted him with his arm.
"We can let him go." The man said, before moving aside so Chris could get by. The Canadian briefly glanced at him but didn't say a word as he immediately threw open the door to Stephanie's dressing room and stepped inside.
Stephanie was in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She had a steel grip on the sink in front of her, willing herself not to cry. She would not go out without her dignity, no matter how much she loved her job… her grip suddenly grew tighter at this thought, and she took several deep breaths to regain her control. She heard the door to her dressing room tear open, and she sighed, taking one last look at herself in the mirror as she turned and left the bathroom.
"I said, I'd be done in a few minutes…" Her voice trailed off as she saw who had entered her dressing room. "What the hell do you want?" She demanded in a harsh tone.
"What the hell do I want?" He asked in disbelief, before stalking right up to her. "What the hell do I want? That's what you have to say to me, after what you did to me out there?"
"We were supposed to be a team, and you fucking turned on me!" She screamed, the bitter tears of hate coming back up to her eyes. "Or did you just so conveniently forget about our little agreement!"
His eyes darkened as he glared at her. "Don't you even try to put this all on me, you're the one that fucking slapped me out there! How the fuck do you justify that, huh? You ruined everything, Stephanie!" He snarled.
"Oh, forgive me, Chris Jericho," She said in a sweetly sarcastic voice, steeling herself and not letting her tears fall. "Forgive me, for ruining your precious title shot. It was all my fault that you didn't walk away champion tonight, and even at Wrestlemania, for that matter. Will you ever forgive me?"
"Goddamn it, Stephanie! You just don't fucking get it!" He screamed, running his hands through his hair as he started to pace. He was starting to lose his control, his heart pounding in his chest.
"No, Jericho, why don't you explain it to me!" She screamed back, making her way quickly over to her bags. She grabbed her things and started throwing them in, just wanting to get out of the arena. "Explain to me how this was my fault, tell me, lay all the fucking blame on me! Come on, let it out!"
"Alright, hmm, well let's see." He stated sarcastically. "You slapped me, you tried to pin me, you stopped me from making Triple H tap out, I mean, God, Stephanie! What the fuck is wrong with you!"
"I was trying to help you!"
"You sure have a funny way of showing it! No wonder your marriage to Trips went to shit, you never get anything done right!" His temper was going over the top now, he could feel it and he couldn't stop it, not even after seeing the shocked look on her face that he would bring up such a topic. "I'm surprised he didn't kick your ass to the curb sooner, you're fucking worthless!"
She stalked right up to him and slapped him right across the face. He spun around from the impact, now giving her his back – which was a good thing for her, because she couldn't keep her tears from falling anymore. She saw him clench his fists and could see him almost shaking with anger, but he didn't move a muscle.
"I hate you, Chris Jericho." She said in a low voice, trying to control her voice as best as she could, but she could hear it cracking. He closed his eyes at the tone of her voice, letting her words wash over him, along with the guilt that he had been trying so hard to ignore.
She waited there for a few moments, moments that seemed like hours, and he knew what she wanted from him. He knew what she needed to hear from him. Hell, he knew that she honestly deserved the apology that she had coming, if not for the match, then definitely for his stupidity in the comments that he had just made. He bit his lip angrily, feeling her eyes on him, burning a hole through his back.
Say it, Goddamnit! He commanded himself. Apologize!
But the words just wouldn't come out…
Stephanie looked at him for a moment longer, her chest suddenly becoming very tight. She took a deep breath to regain her composure, almost breathing in his silence and finally seeing the truth. The two were done… she felt strange, feeling awkward being in the same room with him. She needed to leave, and she needed to leave now. The man who was standing before her wasn't the man she thought he was… she wondered if she had ever known Chris Jericho at all.
She immediately turned and marched over to her bags, lifting them quickly and silently leaving the dressing room. She ignored the guards, walking right past them as she headed over to the exit. The security guards were immediately on her heels, not about to let her out of her sight until she was out of the arena.
But she didn't care, she just needed to leave and get as far away from Chris as possible…
Chris heard her leave and he stood there for a moment. Suddenly, he turned and picked up the vase that was right next to him and heaved it against the wall. He watched as it shattered into what seemed to him to be a thousand pieces, before he collapsed on Stephanie's sofa, breathing heavily as tears stung his eyes. He felt like that vase, shattered into a thousand pieces… he angrily wiped at his unshed tears, before sighing heavily and leaning his head back on her cool, leather sofa. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, catching a hint of her perfume still in the air.
"I'm sorry, Stephanie…"
She had never felt like so much crap in her entire life. She had just lost everything, everything that mattered to her, was now gone with the wind. She sighed, and did the only thing that would make her feel better…
She ordered another beer. One after another after another…
Several hours later, she was still there, sitting at the first local bar she had spotted and drowning her sorrows until she could effectively erase everything from her memory. And thankfully, it was working. She could feel the effects, could feel herself getting piss drunk, and it felt great…
God it feels relieving to get fucking wasted again… she thought to herself, before ordering yet another beer. The quicker she could drink herself into a stupor, the quicker she could forget about the horrendous night she had had.
"Hey babe," She heard a voice say as someone took a seat next to her. "Couldn't help but notice you sitting here, you're looking really good tonight…"
She glanced over at the man who was sitting next to her, rolling her eyes as she took another drink of her beer. She hadn't been to a bar in ages… well, not since she found out that Hunter wanted to divorce her. Yes, it had pained her to lose her husband… she sighed, wondering in her drunken state how she had gotten back to such a low point again, sitting at a bar like some pathetic joke of a person who couldn't own up to their problems.
"What's the matter baby, something on your mind? Talk to me."
"I'm not talking to you." She said, her speech slurred, wishing the man would just go away. She was not in the mood for this.
"Hey bartender, get us another round of whatever the lady's having, will you?" The man next to her said, making her groan loudly. Annoyed, she looked over at him. She tilted her head a bit as she gazed at him… if she squinted a bit, his brown hair looked a bit blonde…
"Thanks," the man said as he took the beers, before handing one to her. "So, you from around here?"
"Look, Mister," She said, her speech dragging. "I said I wasn't talking to you, I don't know you, would you please just leave me alone!"
"Aw come on." He said smoothly as he moved his stool closer to hers. "Such a hot girl like you, you're screaming for company…"
"I believe she said to leave her alone." Came a cold voice from behind. Stephanie immediately looked up, recognizing someone she knew all too well.
"And I believe that you weren't in this conversation." The man said, completely ignoring the fuming Canadian behind him. Chris watched the stranger offer Stephanie a smile, making him scowl.
But when the man dared put his arm around her shoulders, Chris lost it.
Stephanie watched with wide eyes as Chris grabbed the man's shirt from behind, practically yanking him off his feet. The man opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on, but he never got the chance before he was savagely punched in the face.
"Chris!" Stephanie cried out, still very drunk but not that drunk that she couldn't grasp what her business partner… or former business partner… had just done. Everyone in the bar turned to look at them, but Chris just rubbed his knuckles for a brief moment as he sneered down at the man who had been putting the moves on Stephanie, before grabbing her by the hand and pulling her up out of her stool.
"Hey buddy --" Someone started, getting in front of him, but he was having none of it as he shoved the man out of his way. Everyone watched in silence as Chris led Stephanie out of the bar. It wasn't until they were outside that she pulled her hand away from him.
"What the hell is wrong with you!" She screeched, shoving him hard against his chest. He barely budged, just staring at her.
"How much did you drink?" He asked nonchalantly.
"What's it to you." She mumbled, trying to walk away from him. How she hated this man, she thought to herself, before almost tripping and falling on her face.
But he was there to grab her before she could fall.
"I don't need your help!" She shrieked, but his grip on her arm was unbreakable.
"Come on, I'm taking you back to the hotel, and that's not a question." He said rather bluntly as he pulled her over to his rental.
"I'm not having sex with you, Chris Jericho, if that's what you have in mind!"
He rolled his eyes. "Get over yourself, Stephanie…"
The ride over to the hotel seemed to drag for her, especially when he refused to speak another word to her. She leaned back in the passenger seat, her head pounding severely. She wanted nothing more than to sleep… but every time she glanced over at Chris, she was bombarded with a million and one questions to ask him, but if they weren't speaking, then she wasn't going to be the one to break the silence first.
And apparently he also had the same idea, because he was flat out ignoring her. He walked silently into the hotel as he practically hauled her over to the elevator. They stepped in together without a word. She watched him press the button to her floor and put his hands in his pockets, as she studied him. He was looking so good at that moment, that she forgot about the match as she approached him…
He was so busy staring at the floor numbers that he didn't notice how close she was to him until he felt her hand on his chest. He looked over at her, seeing a hungry look on her face.
"God Chris, you look so good tonight…" She said, rubbing his chest slowly.
"You're drunk, you don't know what you're saying." He stated rationally, even though he made no motion to remove her hand off his chest. Ignoring what he was saying, she leaned into him, kissing the side of his neck.
"You're so hot…"
He grunted slightly, dazed as she kissed him. He couldn't help it – he still wanted her, even after everything that happened. He leaned back against the side of the elevator – but she was right there, kissing him, touching him…
"Stephanie, stop," he pleaded, but her hands were on his chest, rubbing him sensuously, and he loved it… she leaned in, teasing his lips with her own as she started rubbing the front of his pants with her thigh. He groaned, his eyes rolling back as he grabbed the back of her thighs and caressed them, pulling her tightly against him.
"But I don't want to stop," She said, continuing to rub against him. She could feel him getting aroused, and the lust was almost overbearing to her. "I want you…"
"No," He mumbled, trying hard to regain his senses, which she was completely dominating. "Stephanie, you're drunk…"
"I want you Chris, God, I love you…"
Those words snapped him out of it. He looked at her in disbelief as the elevator door finally opened on her floor. She was still trying to kiss him, and as much as he wanted her, he could not ignore what she had just said.
He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her off of him, holding her at arm's length while he stared at her.
"You what?"
"I love you." She stated, looking back at him. They stayed this way for several minutes, both of them still flustered from the heat that ran between them as he just stared at her, his face blank. He searched her face, searched her eyes for any kind of truth to the sentence she had just spoken… but when a lopsided, drunken smirk came to her face, he knew that her words carried no weight with them tonight.
He let his breath out slowly. For reasons he didn't understand, this fact bothered him immensely…
She watched as his eyes darkened, before he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of the elevator as he headed over to her hotel room. And he knew which room it was, because he had spent the previous night there. She wasn't satisfied with this though, wanting answers from him, and wanting them now.
She struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he wouldn't give. Finally, when they were in front of his door, he let her go. She was pulling when he let go, and this almost made her lose her balance.
He quickly steadied her. He couldn't help it, it was instinctive on his part. She was in his arms now, and it took all the will power he could summon to not start kissing the life out of her…
"Well?" She demanded, staring into his eyes and keeping him locked in her gaze. "I say I love you and you say nothing?"
"You don't mean it, you're drunk, you don't know what the hell you're saying --"
Stephanie felt something inside of her snap at this as she shoved him away from her. He watched as her eyes bristled with tears… "How can you say that I don't fucking love you?" She demanded, her voice getting louder. "How can you stand here after everything you said and did to me tonight and still fuck me over even after I tell how I feel about you!"
He was stirred by her emotion, but he maintained his ground, trying to be the rational one of the two. He was sober, he was sharp, and he did not want a guilty conscience when the sun rose the next day. And thus, he forced himself to bite his tongue and say nothing, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans and finding her hotel key in there, the same key that he had so willingly used the night before.
She won't remember any of this in the morning anyways…
She watched in disbelief as he ignored everything she said. She could feel her heart breaking as she watched him silently unlock and open the hotel room door. Unknown emotions overtook her as she stared at him, not knowing when she had grown so attached, grown so fond of him…
She did the only thing she could do in this situation – she retaliated. Suddenly furious and unbelievably frustrated with the impossible man in front of her, she punched him as hard as she could in his chest, cursing that she didn't have the heart to punch his face. This caught him completely by surprise, forcing him to take a step or two back. He went to say something, something instinctively mean, but he stopped when he saw that her tears were flowing freely now.
"Stephanie…" he started, immediately moving toward her, but she was in her room in record time, slamming the door in his face for emphasis. He looked down, his heart suddenly aching as he remembered that she wasn't going to be at the shows anymore.
No, I have to end it better than this…
He waited for a few moments, contemplating what he should do. Finally, he took a deep breath and opened the door, silently closing it behind him. It was dark – she hadn't bothered turning on the lights. He didn't have a hard time finding her though… after all, all he had to do was follow the sobs that were coming from the bedroom.
She was sitting against the wall by the doorframe of the bedroom, crying uncontrollably with her arms wrapped around herself. He turned and the instant he saw her on the floor, leaning back against the wall, he felt the guilt finally hit him head on. The guilt he had been trying so hard to ignore, so hard to convince himself that he didn't deserve, it overtook him like a bolt of lightning.
In that one instant, he felt so low… not only had he broken his promise to her, but he had said so many things that he regretted. And now, here she was, on the floor, a broken woman.
And it was all because of him…
He dropped to his knees in front of her and did the only thing he could do – he pulled her into a tight hug. She immediately hugged him back, clinging to him as if for dear life, burying her face into the side of his neck. He could feel her tears on his skin, could feel her practically shaking in his arms… he tightened his grip on her, pulling her firmly against him.
"I'm sorry, Stephanie," he said, running one hand through her hair to comfort her. "I'm sorry…"
"Why don't you love me?" Came her choked response. He sighed but remained silent, until she pulled away from him. This time it was her turn to run her hands through his hair, letting one finger trace the details of his face… he didn't move a muscle, letting her touch him wherever she wanted as he just maintained his eye contact with her. "You're beautiful, Chris…"
He closed his eyes momentarily, before taking her hands in his own. Slowly, he lowered her hands away from his face.
He just couldn't do this. He could not and would not come forth and try to put into words the torment that she put him through… the torturing love that he had for her, the reason behind all of his guilt for her. He refused to do it, if she was just going to forget everything he said the next day…
"I have to go." He mumbled, reluctantly pulling away from her. He stood up, his hands shaking as he tried to smooth back his hair. "I have to go…"
"So… this is it?" She asked nonchalantly, even though fresh tears were already in her eyes. "This is it between us?"
He stopped at the door of her bedroom, legitimately torn for the first time in his life. He hesitated for a second too long for Stephanie's liking, because before he knew it, she was shoving him towards the door.
"What the fuck, Stephanie?"
"You don't leave me, Chris Jericho! If you don't want me, then get the fuck out of my sight!" She screamed, hitting him on his arms and chest while he tried grabbing her hands. "I hate you, I fucking hate you!"
"Fine," He said curtly. "You want me to leave… hell, you don't have to tell me twice…"
With that, he shoved her hands off of him and ignored her screams, stalking right out of the room. He kept moving, not even bothering to take the elevator, opting to take the stairs down instead. Down one flight, and then another, and then one more… until he couldn't take it. He stopped at the landing, leaning against the wall, ignoring the overwhelming tightness that seized his chest…
What the fuck just happened?
Stephanie stumbled to the door, her head pounding as she flung it open quickly. She scanned the hallways, but he was gone.
What the hell is wrong with me? Why would I send him away like that?
"Chris!" She shouted, as if he would suddenly reappear and all would be forgiven. But it was not to be… he had left, but he was going to leave her anyways, she reminded herself bitterly. Sighing, she closed and locked the door, already feeling fresh tears stinging her eyes.
She had been ready to lose her job that night, but she hadn't been prepared to lose him…
Chris squeezed his eyes shut, slowly sliding down the wall he was leaning on until he was sitting against it, much like Stephanie had been earlier. He felt like such an idiot, if only he would've apologized earlier, maybe he could have avoided this disaster… he took a deep breath, wondering how the hell something that was supposed to come with no strings attached was tearing him apart, piece by piece…
And then, the way she had said she loved him. He wasn't prepared to hear it, but God, it was music to his ears… he shook his head, hating how pathetic he felt. But what he had to say, he had to say to her when she was sober, he tried to convince himself.
Oh, who the hell was he trying to fool? He knew he was a coward, everyone called him a coward… it was about time he started giving them a valid reason to do so, he thought bitterly to himself as he sighed, before saying the words he had known were true even before Stephanie's drunken confession…
"I love you too, Stephanie," he said in a shaky voice in the empty stairwell. He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall. "I love you too…"