Hunter looked down at the well-manicured hand which was fingering his
stomach. Would this woman ever just give it up?, he wondered tiredly. There
was a time in his life when he would have had no problem taking what Stacy
was so happy to offer. Once upon a time he would have taken Stacy to bed
for a couple of weeks or so, and then when he got bored, as he inevitably
would, he would have just given her some kind of expensive bracelet or
jewelry, said something like "These past weeks have been amazing, but you
make me feel things I have never felt before, and to tell you the truth,
that scares me. I've never felt this way about anyone before you, and I
don't want to hurt you, so let's just stop this before either one of us
gets hurt even more." That had been his old spiel, and it had worked like a
charm. Women would fall all over that one, and it helped him because he
didn't have to worry about old girlfriends with an ax to grind. His old
way, they would both leave the relationship satisfied. And if the woman
wasn't particularly happy about the ending of the relationship, she usually
didn't make too much of a deal about it since she had gotten a nice piece
of jewelry out of the deal.
But that had been his life before Stephanie. Now, he didn't want to do that, not to any woman, not even with Stacy, who was no stranger to it all, he was certain. He wasn't blind to the fact she was manipulative and devious...it was why he had asked her to accompany him to New Orleans in the first place. He had known Stacy would have no problem in helping him blow up his marriage.
Stacy, frustrated at Hunter's reaction--or lack thereof--decided to try another tact. She maneuvered herself behind him on the bed and began massaging his shoulders.
It didn't even register to Hunter that Stacy had moved, so lost was he in his own thoughts. He couldn't get Stephanie's expression out of his mind when she had walked in the door of the suite. For a moment he swore his heart had stopped because she looked so breathtakingly beautiful, her hair shining in the light from the hallway. He had been so hungry for just the sight of her that he felt like a man in a desert finally getting his first drink of water in days. He had wanted to get up from the bed, grab her, throw her on the bed, show her how much he had missed her. It was the impulse of a crazy man.
But that would have kind of defeated the whole damn plan, wouldn't it now, Hunter? His conscience taunted him. He had come down here with one express purpose in mind, and that was to cut his connection with Stephanie, no matter what it took. And he knew it would take a lot. No one knew, no one understood Stephanie the way he did. She would claw, scream and pick her way back into his life, no matter if he wanted her to or not. It was just the way she was, she just never knew when to give up.
He remembered back to the night of their last match.
That night, right after she had lost, he had found her in her dressing room. He remembered her surprised expression when he had come in the door, her hopefulness that he wouldn't make her leave the company, wouldn't make her keep her end of their bet, he knew. But instead, he had told her that he hated her for her lies, her schemes and her manipulations. She had allied herself with Jericho in order to hurt him and she had more than succeeded. She had told him she was pregnant, knowing how badly he wanted to be a father. She had humiliated him on National Television, in front of millions of people with the inner workings of their marriage. She kept trying to take complete credit for all of his work in the WWF. He knew how much she had helped with his career, but he had worked his ass off, and she knew that, she knew that, damn her! It had made him so angry that she could even speak to him that way, like he had been nothing before her. Maybe he hadn't been anyone before her in his personal life, but professionally, that was a different story. He had had enough with her pettiness and told her so, and much to his shock, she had actually started crying and said she didn't know why she had acted the way she did, she only knew she was sorry and she'd sell her soul for another chance to make things right again in their marriage. But he had told her that she just needed to leave, give him some space, and he didn't believe one word that came out of her mouth. Then then she had looked at him like a wounded bird and he had wanted so badly to just ignore the past months, tell her he loved her despite it all, and they would work it all out. Her eyes had begged him to say all of that.
But the words just wouldn't come out of his mouth. He couldn't trust her anymore. So he told her to go wherever the hell she wanted, so long as it was thousands of miles away from him. He still remembered every single word of her parting shot, McMahon to the core: "Hunter, you may think this marriage is over, but it's not. We are meant to be together, and there is nothing, nothing you can do to change that fact. We're inevitable. We're like...we're like two halves of a puzzle that no one ever would have thought could possibly fit together, but we just somehow do. I screwed up, I've known that for a long time now, and I just keep digging myself in further. I know that, I just can't seem to do anything to fix it! I don't know how, but I know you'll forgive me someday. And when you do, hopefully you'll be able to find me. I...I love you. I'm not saying good-bye, because this is not good-bye."
And with that, Stephanie had limped out of the room, down the hallway and into her car, driven off to parts unknown, leaving Hunter stunned with the calm certainty in which Stephanie had just spoken to him. And that had just made him even more angry, she was soooo damn sure that she would be forgiven. The hell he would forgive her.
Hunter's head had been drooping slightly but it snapped up with a start, realizing Stacy was massaging his lower back. The only reason he was thinking about all of this now, he told himself, was because of Stephanie's devastated expression when she had first seen Stacy and him in the bed. He had been tempted to just stop this whole thing right then. But then she'd recovered so well. He wondered if maybe it had just been her pride which was wounded, if the actual thought of her husband having an affair didn't bother her one iota. As soon as he thought that, he dismissed it as untrue. Steph didn't let people in without one hell of a fight, but once they were in, they stayed in. So he had known it would take something big, something monumental, to get her to give up any illusions she had about their "inevitable" reconciliation. So he had thought on it, thought about simply calling her, telling her he wanted a divorce. But he knew she'd just try and find some way around it. He'd thought about just flying down to her, putting the papers and a pen in front of her and telling her to sign, but that wouldn't work either, he knew. She was a fighter, like him. She would fight for a marriage that was already dead, and he just didn't have the energy to fend her off at every pass, so he had known something drastic was required. He knew the plan was pretty stupid, having his wife believe he was having an affair when he actually wasn't, but it was the only thing he could come up with that Stephanie wouldn't be able to forgive and forget. And he had been right. Stephanie had said she was going to give him the divorce, and his life would be back to normal again, no more thinking about Stephanie 24/7, no more wondering what she was doing at all times of the day, and most importantly, no more weird dreams about Stephanie being in danger, or that she needed his help. He had cut their connection, whatever it was, for good now. And he was happy about it.
He was.
He really was.
But apparently he still had Ms. Keibler to deal with. With a sigh, he turned around to face Stacy. Her eyes were shut, there was a small smile on her face.
"Having fun?" he queried. He watched her eyes snap open.
"He speaks!" Stacy teased mockingly. And then, answering his question, "Actually, yes."
"I'm glad someone is. What you said to Stephanie, the way you acted, that was completely uncalled for. We accomplished my objective, which was only to have her find us together. There was absolutely no need to rub her face in it like that!" Hunter berated Stacy angrily.
She finally stopped her massage. "You sound like you actually care about her." she said slowly.
"Of course I care! She's my wife! I love--loved her! I didn't want to hurt her any more than was really necessary."
"Hunter, I hate to break it to you, but people don't do things like this to people they love."
"Yeah, most people don't. But I'm not most people, Stacy."
"No, you really aren't." Stacy muttered, under her breath.
"Look, thank you for playing along with this charade. It helped me more than you could ever know. But that's all this is, all this will ever be, a charade. This isn't the beginning of some kind of real affair for us, and you need to realize that."
"I do, Hunter, I do--"
"No, I don't really think you do get that! You keep coming on to me, and I don't appreciate it. I don't want to be cruel, but I'm just going to tell you straight out: I'm not interested. Not in you, not in any woman. I'm not going for a relationship with anyone, I just want to focus on my career and hold on to my belt for as long as I possibly can. I don't want any other entanglements, I don't want a bedtime buddy. You got that?"
Stacy couldn't stop blinking at this about face of Hunter's. But she knew when discretion was the better part of valor, and she knew when to get the hell out of somewhere. This was definitely one of those times, because Hunter looked like he was about to blow.
"Fine. You want me to go, I'll go. There are plenty--PLENTY of other fish in the sea, you--"
"Oh, just go catch one! Get out!" Hunter yelled as he flew up from the bed, yanked open the door to the adjoining suite and motioned for her to leave. She walked past him haughtily as he slammed the door behind her, locking it. He leaned his head against the door for a brief moment and then threw himself back onto the bed. The back of his head landed on the roses. He didn't move. Despite all of this, despite the desperate game he had just played, and--won?, he still found himself wondering where Stephanie had run off to.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!! Damn IT!" He yelled, frustrated over the whole mess. Then he pulled the crushed roses out from his head and flung them at the door, watching as the petals flew off the stems and floated downward to the floor. "There's your freaking flowers!" He yelled at no one in particular.
But that had been his life before Stephanie. Now, he didn't want to do that, not to any woman, not even with Stacy, who was no stranger to it all, he was certain. He wasn't blind to the fact she was manipulative and devious...it was why he had asked her to accompany him to New Orleans in the first place. He had known Stacy would have no problem in helping him blow up his marriage.
Stacy, frustrated at Hunter's reaction--or lack thereof--decided to try another tact. She maneuvered herself behind him on the bed and began massaging his shoulders.
It didn't even register to Hunter that Stacy had moved, so lost was he in his own thoughts. He couldn't get Stephanie's expression out of his mind when she had walked in the door of the suite. For a moment he swore his heart had stopped because she looked so breathtakingly beautiful, her hair shining in the light from the hallway. He had been so hungry for just the sight of her that he felt like a man in a desert finally getting his first drink of water in days. He had wanted to get up from the bed, grab her, throw her on the bed, show her how much he had missed her. It was the impulse of a crazy man.
But that would have kind of defeated the whole damn plan, wouldn't it now, Hunter? His conscience taunted him. He had come down here with one express purpose in mind, and that was to cut his connection with Stephanie, no matter what it took. And he knew it would take a lot. No one knew, no one understood Stephanie the way he did. She would claw, scream and pick her way back into his life, no matter if he wanted her to or not. It was just the way she was, she just never knew when to give up.
He remembered back to the night of their last match.
That night, right after she had lost, he had found her in her dressing room. He remembered her surprised expression when he had come in the door, her hopefulness that he wouldn't make her leave the company, wouldn't make her keep her end of their bet, he knew. But instead, he had told her that he hated her for her lies, her schemes and her manipulations. She had allied herself with Jericho in order to hurt him and she had more than succeeded. She had told him she was pregnant, knowing how badly he wanted to be a father. She had humiliated him on National Television, in front of millions of people with the inner workings of their marriage. She kept trying to take complete credit for all of his work in the WWF. He knew how much she had helped with his career, but he had worked his ass off, and she knew that, she knew that, damn her! It had made him so angry that she could even speak to him that way, like he had been nothing before her. Maybe he hadn't been anyone before her in his personal life, but professionally, that was a different story. He had had enough with her pettiness and told her so, and much to his shock, she had actually started crying and said she didn't know why she had acted the way she did, she only knew she was sorry and she'd sell her soul for another chance to make things right again in their marriage. But he had told her that she just needed to leave, give him some space, and he didn't believe one word that came out of her mouth. Then then she had looked at him like a wounded bird and he had wanted so badly to just ignore the past months, tell her he loved her despite it all, and they would work it all out. Her eyes had begged him to say all of that.
But the words just wouldn't come out of his mouth. He couldn't trust her anymore. So he told her to go wherever the hell she wanted, so long as it was thousands of miles away from him. He still remembered every single word of her parting shot, McMahon to the core: "Hunter, you may think this marriage is over, but it's not. We are meant to be together, and there is nothing, nothing you can do to change that fact. We're inevitable. We're like...we're like two halves of a puzzle that no one ever would have thought could possibly fit together, but we just somehow do. I screwed up, I've known that for a long time now, and I just keep digging myself in further. I know that, I just can't seem to do anything to fix it! I don't know how, but I know you'll forgive me someday. And when you do, hopefully you'll be able to find me. I...I love you. I'm not saying good-bye, because this is not good-bye."
And with that, Stephanie had limped out of the room, down the hallway and into her car, driven off to parts unknown, leaving Hunter stunned with the calm certainty in which Stephanie had just spoken to him. And that had just made him even more angry, she was soooo damn sure that she would be forgiven. The hell he would forgive her.
Hunter's head had been drooping slightly but it snapped up with a start, realizing Stacy was massaging his lower back. The only reason he was thinking about all of this now, he told himself, was because of Stephanie's devastated expression when she had first seen Stacy and him in the bed. He had been tempted to just stop this whole thing right then. But then she'd recovered so well. He wondered if maybe it had just been her pride which was wounded, if the actual thought of her husband having an affair didn't bother her one iota. As soon as he thought that, he dismissed it as untrue. Steph didn't let people in without one hell of a fight, but once they were in, they stayed in. So he had known it would take something big, something monumental, to get her to give up any illusions she had about their "inevitable" reconciliation. So he had thought on it, thought about simply calling her, telling her he wanted a divorce. But he knew she'd just try and find some way around it. He'd thought about just flying down to her, putting the papers and a pen in front of her and telling her to sign, but that wouldn't work either, he knew. She was a fighter, like him. She would fight for a marriage that was already dead, and he just didn't have the energy to fend her off at every pass, so he had known something drastic was required. He knew the plan was pretty stupid, having his wife believe he was having an affair when he actually wasn't, but it was the only thing he could come up with that Stephanie wouldn't be able to forgive and forget. And he had been right. Stephanie had said she was going to give him the divorce, and his life would be back to normal again, no more thinking about Stephanie 24/7, no more wondering what she was doing at all times of the day, and most importantly, no more weird dreams about Stephanie being in danger, or that she needed his help. He had cut their connection, whatever it was, for good now. And he was happy about it.
He was.
He really was.
But apparently he still had Ms. Keibler to deal with. With a sigh, he turned around to face Stacy. Her eyes were shut, there was a small smile on her face.
"Having fun?" he queried. He watched her eyes snap open.
"He speaks!" Stacy teased mockingly. And then, answering his question, "Actually, yes."
"I'm glad someone is. What you said to Stephanie, the way you acted, that was completely uncalled for. We accomplished my objective, which was only to have her find us together. There was absolutely no need to rub her face in it like that!" Hunter berated Stacy angrily.
She finally stopped her massage. "You sound like you actually care about her." she said slowly.
"Of course I care! She's my wife! I love--loved her! I didn't want to hurt her any more than was really necessary."
"Hunter, I hate to break it to you, but people don't do things like this to people they love."
"Yeah, most people don't. But I'm not most people, Stacy."
"No, you really aren't." Stacy muttered, under her breath.
"Look, thank you for playing along with this charade. It helped me more than you could ever know. But that's all this is, all this will ever be, a charade. This isn't the beginning of some kind of real affair for us, and you need to realize that."
"I do, Hunter, I do--"
"No, I don't really think you do get that! You keep coming on to me, and I don't appreciate it. I don't want to be cruel, but I'm just going to tell you straight out: I'm not interested. Not in you, not in any woman. I'm not going for a relationship with anyone, I just want to focus on my career and hold on to my belt for as long as I possibly can. I don't want any other entanglements, I don't want a bedtime buddy. You got that?"
Stacy couldn't stop blinking at this about face of Hunter's. But she knew when discretion was the better part of valor, and she knew when to get the hell out of somewhere. This was definitely one of those times, because Hunter looked like he was about to blow.
"Fine. You want me to go, I'll go. There are plenty--PLENTY of other fish in the sea, you--"
"Oh, just go catch one! Get out!" Hunter yelled as he flew up from the bed, yanked open the door to the adjoining suite and motioned for her to leave. She walked past him haughtily as he slammed the door behind her, locking it. He leaned his head against the door for a brief moment and then threw himself back onto the bed. The back of his head landed on the roses. He didn't move. Despite all of this, despite the desperate game he had just played, and--won?, he still found himself wondering where Stephanie had run off to.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!! Damn IT!" He yelled, frustrated over the whole mess. Then he pulled the crushed roses out from his head and flung them at the door, watching as the petals flew off the stems and floated downward to the floor. "There's your freaking flowers!" He yelled at no one in particular.