Title: "No Right" (1/?)
By: twstofate (twstofate@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All wrestling personalities and products are property of the
WWE and the whole thing is fiction.
Distribution: ff.net, my site; otherwise ask first
Summary: Stephanie McMahon has lost the man she was in love with and Edge
is determined to find out why Stephanie refuses to let herself fall in love
again.
Note: Lyrics in this part are from "Pretty Girl" by Sugarcult.
*
// Pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything //
"What?" she asked, turning to face him. She smiled like she did every time he said that he wanted to ask her a question. He always wanted to ask her questions.
"Can we talk tonight, after the show?" he asked. There was worry in his eyes, anxiety in his body. She wondered what could possibly be causing him such uneasiness, he had to know that she would never refuse him anything.
"Yeah, sure," she said, smiling brightly. "Where would you like to go?"
"Are you rooming alone?" he asked, running a hand through his hair and quickly looking each way down the hall.
"Yeah," she said. "You okay sweetheart?"
She expected him to look at her and flash her a breath-taking smile, then assure her that everything was perfect. "No, no I'm not," he said.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes opening wide with worry.
"I'll tell you later," he promised. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'll come to your room at eleven."
She watched as he walked quickly down the hall.
*
She hadn't expected it, not at all. She had expected him to tell her he was going to have to have surgery or something. Not this, never this.
"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, reaching out to wipe her tears away. She flinched away from his touch. He closed his eyes, wishing he could take away all of the pain he knew he had caused her. "You'll never know how sorry."
"How could you?" she asked accusingly. She hated the tears she was crying. She hated the pain that she was feeling. She hated his hands that had touched someone else. Most of all, she hated that she couldn't seem to hate him.
"You weren't there," he answered simply, as if that explained everything.
"You weren't here," she said, wiping viciously at the tears that streamed down her face. "I didn't decide to go screw the first guy that offered."
"You're too good for that anyway," he said. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was kneeling in front of her. He rested an arm on the bed on either side of her. "You're so much better than me."
"Don't talk like that," she said. "You're a human being, just like me."
"If you're a human being, I'm a miserable excuse for one," he said softly.
"Do you think that's going to make me feel bad for you?" she asked him, her eyes narrowing. "Do you think that will make it easier to forgive?"
"No," he said.
"And I'm not such a great human being anyways," she said, "So don't feed me some load of crap. Do you feel noble because you've admitted to me that you've been unfaithful?"
"No," he said. "I feel like shit. But I had to tell you. I couldn't let someone else tell you."
"And how did you know someone would tell me?" she asked. "Was she threatening to tell me?"
"No," he said, hanging his head in shame.
"What?" she asked.
"She's pregnant," he replied. "We're getting married."
She closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them she would be awaking from a horrible nightmare. She opened her eyes to see his sad eyes, looking into hers.
"No," she whispered.
"If I could take it all back, I would," he assured her. "But I've got to do right by her now."
"And how exactly do you know it's yours?" she asked, her tone snide.
"Don't," he said softly, pain slashing through his eyes. "I know you're hurt, but this is my fault. I was the one who should have known better."
"Yeah, you should've known better," she whispered. She took a deep breath and knew what she needed to do. "Will you please go?"
"Baby," he said, obviously not wanting to leave her like that.
"Don't call me that," she said. She willed herself to keep from completely breaking down while he was still in the room. "Please, I need you to go."
"Okay," he said, slowly getting to his feet. He looked down at her and wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to control himself. "I'm so sorry. I really do love you."
"I don't seem to know a lot about life," she said. "But I do know that if you really loved me, you never would have cheated on me."
He sighed deeply, knowing he would never actually see how badly he had hurt her. After a couple of days in hiding, she would emerge, stronger than ever.
And he wouldn't have her. She would never belong to him again.
*
She woke up, her throat feeling scratchy. Her eyes were blurry from the hours of crying. She stretched out of her fetal position and sat on the hard hotel bed.
That gnawing emptiness was still there. She had never actually let herself fall so deeply in love. She had had several relationships in the past, serious relationships, but she had never trusted any of them like she had trust him.
She stood up and walked to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure it was hot enough that it would burn her skin to life and fog up the bathroom so she wouldn't have to look at herself in the mirror.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub, knowing she should be undressing and getting into the shower. She breathed deeply, hoping that she could somehow convince herself to move.
"Why?" she whispered, hanging her head as she started crying again.
"Never again," Stephanie McMahon finally whispered to herself. "I'll never trust another man."
*
// Pretty girl is suffering while he confesses everything //
"What?" she asked, turning to face him. She smiled like she did every time he said that he wanted to ask her a question. He always wanted to ask her questions.
"Can we talk tonight, after the show?" he asked. There was worry in his eyes, anxiety in his body. She wondered what could possibly be causing him such uneasiness, he had to know that she would never refuse him anything.
"Yeah, sure," she said, smiling brightly. "Where would you like to go?"
"Are you rooming alone?" he asked, running a hand through his hair and quickly looking each way down the hall.
"Yeah," she said. "You okay sweetheart?"
She expected him to look at her and flash her a breath-taking smile, then assure her that everything was perfect. "No, no I'm not," he said.
"What's wrong?" she asked, her eyes opening wide with worry.
"I'll tell you later," he promised. He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "I'll come to your room at eleven."
She watched as he walked quickly down the hall.
*
She hadn't expected it, not at all. She had expected him to tell her he was going to have to have surgery or something. Not this, never this.
"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, reaching out to wipe her tears away. She flinched away from his touch. He closed his eyes, wishing he could take away all of the pain he knew he had caused her. "You'll never know how sorry."
"How could you?" she asked accusingly. She hated the tears she was crying. She hated the pain that she was feeling. She hated his hands that had touched someone else. Most of all, she hated that she couldn't seem to hate him.
"You weren't there," he answered simply, as if that explained everything.
"You weren't here," she said, wiping viciously at the tears that streamed down her face. "I didn't decide to go screw the first guy that offered."
"You're too good for that anyway," he said. She was sitting on the edge of the bed and he was kneeling in front of her. He rested an arm on the bed on either side of her. "You're so much better than me."
"Don't talk like that," she said. "You're a human being, just like me."
"If you're a human being, I'm a miserable excuse for one," he said softly.
"Do you think that's going to make me feel bad for you?" she asked him, her eyes narrowing. "Do you think that will make it easier to forgive?"
"No," he said.
"And I'm not such a great human being anyways," she said, "So don't feed me some load of crap. Do you feel noble because you've admitted to me that you've been unfaithful?"
"No," he said. "I feel like shit. But I had to tell you. I couldn't let someone else tell you."
"And how did you know someone would tell me?" she asked. "Was she threatening to tell me?"
"No," he said, hanging his head in shame.
"What?" she asked.
"She's pregnant," he replied. "We're getting married."
She closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them she would be awaking from a horrible nightmare. She opened her eyes to see his sad eyes, looking into hers.
"No," she whispered.
"If I could take it all back, I would," he assured her. "But I've got to do right by her now."
"And how exactly do you know it's yours?" she asked, her tone snide.
"Don't," he said softly, pain slashing through his eyes. "I know you're hurt, but this is my fault. I was the one who should have known better."
"Yeah, you should've known better," she whispered. She took a deep breath and knew what she needed to do. "Will you please go?"
"Baby," he said, obviously not wanting to leave her like that.
"Don't call me that," she said. She willed herself to keep from completely breaking down while he was still in the room. "Please, I need you to go."
"Okay," he said, slowly getting to his feet. He looked down at her and wished, not for the first time, that he had been able to control himself. "I'm so sorry. I really do love you."
"I don't seem to know a lot about life," she said. "But I do know that if you really loved me, you never would have cheated on me."
He sighed deeply, knowing he would never actually see how badly he had hurt her. After a couple of days in hiding, she would emerge, stronger than ever.
And he wouldn't have her. She would never belong to him again.
*
She woke up, her throat feeling scratchy. Her eyes were blurry from the hours of crying. She stretched out of her fetal position and sat on the hard hotel bed.
That gnawing emptiness was still there. She had never actually let herself fall so deeply in love. She had had several relationships in the past, serious relationships, but she had never trusted any of them like she had trust him.
She stood up and walked to the bathroom. She turned on the shower, making sure it was hot enough that it would burn her skin to life and fog up the bathroom so she wouldn't have to look at herself in the mirror.
She sat on the edge of the bathtub, knowing she should be undressing and getting into the shower. She breathed deeply, hoping that she could somehow convince herself to move.
"Why?" she whispered, hanging her head as she started crying again.
"Never again," Stephanie McMahon finally whispered to herself. "I'll never trust another man."