Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they belong to themselves, and their gimmicks belong to Vince McMahon and WWE.Based aroundthe song "I Do" by Jude.
To read the original version with song lyrics go to: bitter-solemnity. com /fics /IBLYTL.php (just get rid of the spaces).
Distribution: If you want it, ASK. Don't just take it and post it somewhere.
Summary: Jericho thinks about his past with a certain someone, and an upcoming event.
A/N: This takes place over a span of time, I hope it doesn't confuse you, and if it does, I'm sorry. Oh, and please R/R. Thanks.
Jericho looked through his mail, and he came across a simple white envelope with his name printed on it in pretty calligraphy. He knew whatever it held would not be good news, at least not for him. He dreaded opening it, but finally gathering up his courage he tore the envelope and took out what looked like an invitation. A wedding invitation...HER wedding invitation.
He took out the note included inside, it was in her handwriting. He could recognize it anywhere; he had been married to her for eight years after all. She was the mother of his children for goodness sakes.
The note asked how he was, and she knew he probably didn't want to attend her wedding, but she felt that she should at least send an invitation. There were also notes from his kids, Gwynn, his eldest daughter, telling him how she missed him, and what was going on in school, a picture Aurora, his younger daughter, had drawn of a flower, and a scribble picture his two and a half year old son Chris Jr. had drawn.
Jericho just sat there holding the invitation in his hand, reading it over and over again. So she was getting married. It had been a year and a half since they had gotten divorced, a year and a half since the love of his life had left him. Yes, he still loved her, still longed to be with her. Obviously she had moved on, moved on to a new life, and now a new husband.
He hadn't really seen her all that often since the divorce became finalized. She had practically left the wrestling business after the divorce, instead opting to become a full-time mother to their three kids, so the only time he saw her was when he went to pick up the kids, when he got to see them. And the fact that they lived almost 600 miles apart didn't help either.
Despite that, he desperately wanted to go to her, to tell her that he still loved her, to beg her to take him back. Why was it so hard for him to move on? Why was she still the first thing he thought of in the morning, and the last thing he thought of at night? He wanted to go to her, remind her of how great they used to be, how perfect they were together, how perfect they could still be.
No, he couldn't do that, he couldn't ruin things for her, and he loved her enough to let her go, let her be happy. And she obviously wasn't happy with him. She wanted this Brad character that she was going to marry, and him telling her that he still loved her probably wouldn't do any good. She would probably laugh in his face, turn around and walk away, again.
He had never stopped loving her, not once since their first real kiss what seemed so long ago. He remembered it so well, a vivid memory that he thought about often. It was after a SmackDown, he had found her toiling away hours after the show had ended, and upon closer inspection found out she had been crying for whatever reason, it had slipped his mind. He comforted her that night, and ended up kissing her, and it was like his world had suddenly filled with meaning. He felt like he had finally found that piece he was missing, a piece he hadn't even known was gone.
From then on he had loved her. And not a day went by that he didn't love her. He could be on his deathbed, and he knew that his final thought would be of her. He didn't know what had happened to their marriage, what had made them feel like they stopped loving each other. On the rare occasions that they saw each other, or spoke to each other, he could still sense something between them, love perhaps, he didn't know anymore. And it would do no good to tell her, that part of their life was over.
He couldn't go to the wedding, that was absolutely out of the question. To see her marrying another man would be torture for him. He might as well be dead than have to go through something like that. To see her professing her love to someone else, while he sat there, loving her that would be the worst possible thing he could imagine. To see her smiling face, loving eyes not directed at him, it was something he couldn't bear.
To see her so beautiful, and know that she didn't belong to him. He would never get to kiss her again, never get to touch her. There would be plenty of people there, she loved being the center of attention, it would be perfect for her, and there was no chance in hell he would ruin that for her. He wouldn't...he couldn't.
That was the least that he could do for her, to not go to the wedding. He knew if he went it could spell potential disaster. And the awkwardness would be too much to bear, not just for him, but for the both of them. If he went he knew that there would be people expecting something to happen. Kurt, to this day, insisted that they still loved each other. He couldn't get through a conversation with him, without Kurt bringing up the fact that he thought they should still be together.
He didn't want to ruin her big day, she deserved a nice wedding, and reception, and him being there would just make it worse for her, and that was the last thing he wanted to do to her. She wouldn't miss him anyways; she would be too wrapped up in her own happiness to realize her ex-husband was there. It was better that he didn't go.
As her wedding day drew closer, Jericho couldn't help but be flooded by thoughts of her. He remembered everything about her. The way she laughed at his stupid jokes, or the way she smiled at him across a crowded room, letting him know that she was thinking about him. The way her kisses felt on his lips.
He could remember their own wedding day, and how it had been the best day of his life. He remembered being so nervous standing up there, waiting for her to walk down the aisle. She had looked so beautiful that day, in an off-the-shoulder white gown; she looked like an angel, his angel. And they had pledged their love for one another, pledged to be together for the rest of their lives. Oh, how that had failed.
He wished that she were still with him, that they were still a family. They had had so many good times together, and he thought they had truly been happy. He didn't exactly know where things went wrong, all of a sudden she left, and their world, their home that they had built together had come crashing down, and he had been left to pick up the pieces. And she had moved on.
She had found someone better, someone she loved more. He really couldn't begrudge her for getting married again. They had been divorced for a year and a half, and he never expected her to be alone for the rest of her life. He guessed it hurt so much because of his inability to move on. Yeah, he had had a few short relationships since they broke up, but none of them ever felt right, and he always got this inexplicable feeling that he was cheating on her, despite the fact they weren't together. He wished he could move on, but something kept holding him back. He still wanted her, and needed her.
He hoped that she would be happy with her new life, happy with her new husband. Maybe he could give her what he couldn't. He thought that he had made her happy, but everything pointed to the contrary. She deserved to be happy. With all the crap that she had gone through with her father, and then with her first husband, she deserved happiness in her life. God knows that she never had it easy with the two of them, and maybe even with him. If this guy could make her happy, then maybe HE should be happy for the both of them.
He especially hoped that whoever this guy was that he was treating his kids well. He loved them more than life itself. They were his biggest joy in the world, and he loved them to distraction. They were a part of him, and a part of her, the best parts if you asked him.
They were wonderful kids too, and they had been so happy when they had them. They were so excited when they found out she was pregnant the first time, with their eldest daughter Gwynn. He could still remember the smile on her face when she got to hold her for the first time. Gwynn looked exactly like her mother, right down to the icy glare. Aurora, their younger daughter had her blue eyes, and his blonde hair. Then there was the baby, his only son, Christopher Keith Irvine Jr., the spitting image of his father. She may have done a lot of bad things in her day, but she was a wonderful mother.
He had to come to grips with the fact that they weren't a family anymore, and they never would be again. As each day came closer to her wedding day, reality began to wash over him. He accepted that she was getting married, and there was no hope that they would ever get back together. It was something he had to come to grips with.
Of course, he still dreamed of being with her, but that's all they were now...dreams.
The day he had been dreading finally came, and it started gray and cloudy, mirroring his current mood. He wondered what the weather was like in Greenwich, if it was anything like it was in Florida. No, he wouldn't try to think about any of that, it would only hurt that much more, and the last thing he needed today was to hurt more.
He didn't want to get out of bed, he just wanted to lie there, to go back to blissful dreams of him and her together, in dreams he could imagine all the things he wanted, and they would be his. His reality sucked, his reality had the love of his life marrying someone else. He wanted to crawl under his covers, and forget that his life ever existed; it was just easier that way.
He looked at the clock, and realized that right about now she was probably walking down the aisle, most likely on the arm of her father. He groaned, not wanting to think about that. The hurt cut through him like a knife, and he tried to fall back asleep.
Someone was ringing his doorbell, but he didn't really care, he couldn't care. He just wanted to stay there, whoever it was would eventually go away. Didn't they know that he just wanted to be left alone, that he wanted to be by himself today? He wanted to be left alone with his thoughts, but whomever it was at the door persisted.
He slowly got up from his bed, and made his way downstairs to the door. Whoever it was, they were still ringing the doorbell, and it was driving him nuts.
"Hold on! I'll be right there!" he yelled as he made his way to the front door, "What the hell-" his breath caught, and his sentence was stopped short as he opened the door and caught sight of who was in front of him.
He couldn't believe his eyes, fearing that he was seeing things, that the person standing in front of him was some sort of illusion, a figment of his imagination. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. But he knew he wasn't, she was really here.
"Stephanie."
