Chapter 11:

The posh restaurant's dim and romantic mood definitely wasn't fit for the current situation. Candlelight sticks lit everywhere and vases of red roses placed on each table as a centerpiece, both an apathetic-looking Randy Orton and an awkward-looking Stacy Keibler looked everywhere else except each other's eyes. The tension between them simmered so thickly, it could be sliced with a knife.

"What are you doing back here?" Randy smugly inquired, eyebrow raised as Stacy remained demure in her seat.

"I just wanted to visit again," she gently replied.

Randy nodded, as another long awkward silence followed.

"So…" Stacy tried starting. "Why here?"

"Well, it's not like there were any other restaurants available," Randy sarcastically drawled. "Besides, it was the nearest…and I'm hungry. It's not everyday that someone knocks on your locker room door unexpectedly, ruins your plans for the night, and then expects to be taken out to some sort of date—"

Stacy looked hurt. "I wasn't expecting you to—"

"Just order something and let's get this over with, Stace."

Stacy fell silent for a few seconds, watching as Randy scanned his menu. Taking her own, she softly told the waiter her order and fell silent once again. Randy seemed externally cool and calm, but his insides were yelling another story. Dressed in a maroon VanHeusen polo and a couple of black Banana Republic slacks, he jingled his car keys in his hands while softly whistling a tune. Stacy wanted to smile. He always did that when he was nervous.

"Randy, can we please talk?" Stacy finally uttered, looking at him anxiously.

Randy looked up from his menu and put it down. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's talk."

"Why are you being like this?"

"Why do I get that question all the time?"

"Randy, people are concerned about you. What's happening? Why are you being such a jerk to everybody?"

Randy narrowed his eyes at his ex-girlfriend. "Why don't you try answering those questions, Stacy? Huh? Why don't you go figure it out?"

"Randy, as far as I can remember, you were the one who broke things off. You made the decision of not seeing me anymore. You were the one who didn't want it. How can you blame me? These past few months have been such hell for me without you, and I can't believe I'm admitting that. I don't understand how you can do something so screwed up, and then blame me for it!" Stacy lightly exclaimed, fighting back the tears.

Randy stayed mute for a while. So she was going through hell, too? He never saw that coming. His features softened a little. All he wanted to do was just go up to her, kiss the tears off her pretty face and assure her that everything would be alright. But because he was an idiot…

"Stacy, how can you be going through hell? You're living the glamorous life you've always wanted—a superstar of Hollywood and a definite A-lister in anything and everything you attend! That sure doesn't sound like hell to me."

Stacy was appalled. "Well, you don't look like you're going through hell either—enjoying beating helpless people up, making fun of others and being such a pure asshole. You seem to be liking that kind of life."

Randy clenched his jaw. "I have no idea why I agreed to this."

"I didn't force you to agree on anything. It's not like I asked for a date, Randy. Because that was the last thing on my mind."

"Oh really?" Randy raised an eyebrow. "Fine. Then I'm leaving," he stood up, throwing the table napkin on his chair and making his way to the door.

Stacy simply stared at him in shock before crossing her arms and shaking her head. People were watching her intently alright. Having enough drama and embarrassment for the night, she took out a hundred dollar bill, placed it on the table, and headed towards the door as well.

When Stacy emerged from the restaurant wearing just an electric blue haltered mini-dress with a navy-colored lining from Chanel, and a pair of midnight blue pumps with ribbons from Jimmy Choo, she slipped her navy blue Kate Spade shoulder bag along her arm and made her way over to the other side of the street. She knew she had no ride back to the hotel, but she somehow didn't bother to call for a cab or for help. She needed the thirty-minute walk from the restaurant to the hotel in order to calm down and think things over. She might as well cry and break down; God knows how much she wanted to do it. Heaving a sigh, she began walking along the wet sidewalk. It was late, and there was hardly any traffic. The city lights were the only ones that kept everything alive. Looking up, Stacy feared that it might rain again. Suddenly, a honk came from the side as a familiar Maserati slowed down and lowered its window.

"Get in, Stace," came Randy Orton's demanding voice.

Stacy glared at him. "I'd rather walk," she snottily answered, continuing her pace as Randy drove as slow.

"I said get in," the Legend Killer ordered, stopping the car and getting out of it.

Stacy ignored him and still continued to walk, wrapping her arms around herself for she was beginning to feel the chill of the night.

"Stacy!" Randy called out, beginning to jog and grabbing her arm to turn her around.

"Don't touch me, Randy!" Stacy suddenly cried out, jerking her arm away from his hold. "Just don't! I don't ever want to see you again!"

"Fine!" Randy yelled. "It's not like I wanted to see you, too!"

"Good!" Stacy answered. "Because at least I don't need to bother flying all the way from God-knows-where just to see you and check if you're okay!"

Randy fell silent. "So you're not going to be visiting anymore?" he asked, his voice somewhat low and gentle.

"No, I won't be visiting anymore!" Stacy replied loudly. "Because every time I do, you make me feel as if you're disgusted to see me! Well I'm sorry I tried fixing things again. I don't know why I even bothered. If only I knew you'd end up to be like this, I never would've stopped by all those times just to say hi. You disappoint me, Randy. Tonight just proves that this is it. There is no chance that you and I can be together again."

Randy's jaw almost dropped. What had he done?

"Stacy," he tried explaining.

"No! I don't want to hear it, Randy! If you're just going to insult me, or make me feel worse than what I already am feeling right now, then I've had it. I've been too patient with you. I think it's time that I give up. I don't ever want to see you again."

And with that, she clicked her heels loudly on the cold hard pavement and strutted away from Randy Orton's view.