A/N: I think if I update every week it sorta gives that extra feel of enthusiasm dontcha think? . . . nah maybe not, anywho. Tonight I gotta thank Me, and Definitely Not You (yeah, tht para was supposed 2 b at the end but I varied it a bit. It looks cooler that way rite? I dunno. Lol.) Lil Mary (HEY! thanks for loving my story RAW) Trish and Jeffy 4ever (don't worry, I think you're nickname will b one of the key points of the Jeff-Trish-Y2J part of the fic soon!) Soul Charger (thanks for reviewing!) and XxDragon-WingzxX (I updated!) Well, Wrestlemania 20 is over. And I got the answers to those Matt-Lita questions from last week, it turned out that they weren't added to the WMXX matchcard bcoz neither Matt nor Amy has friends with the Eric Bischoff management. Sounds familiar? Hmm . . . maybe I can use that in the fic? lets see!

Chapter 23

'Too much of something is bad enough. But something's coming over me to make me wonder; Too much of nothing is just as tough.'

--- Spice Girls

Her heart already cracked before she even began talking. Her eyes burst out tears before the reason for it was given; Amy was breaking apart from the inside as she continued to just try to say out the words. But she couldn't, she was still too weak, too scared.

"Amy . . ." Matt whispered her name. But the way he said it, placing every ounce of love in his soul to her name, it only made her emotions cripple more than it already was. This was the man she loved; she wanted to be with for the rest of her life. The thought, or remembrance, of her betrayal for the man who gave her his life his —soul— only compelled more tears to her hazel eyes. Amy Dumas wasn't ready.

She found herself leaning against his broad shoulders when Matt embraced her, wrapping his hands around her curved waist and letting her bury her face once again to his neck. Amy was crying very deeply, Matt could sense this, she was hurt in more ways than one. Something happened that caused this, and in his own mind Matt wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he didn't find out the real reason behind his lover's broken heart. What could be wrong? "Amez . . . is everything okay?" He landed a soft kiss to her ear, trying to calm her from this. "It's alright, you can tell me anything."

What hurt her most was the way Matt talked to her, it drove her mad to think of the love he had for her and how she 'threw' it away. She couldn't stop crying. "I'm sorry Matt . . ." She wept, panting at every breath. Her heart was pounding and Matt could feel it through his chest. She was already sniffing from the tears, that meant something . . . she was crying for a long time. "I'm sorry . . ." Amy's mouth could barely let her speak, it was about time she forgot about everything, she didn't hold back the tears. She couldn't hold back the tears, not anymore, not from him, not from her Matthew. So Amy cried, releasing every stored piece of emotion in her heart, setting them free and not caring about what anyone would think. She cried against him, to him, holding onto Matt as if she feared if she let go . . . she could lose him forever.

"I wanted to tell you before," She sobbed, barely being able to talk.

"It's okay Amy . . . just . . . relax . . . I'm here. You don't have to be sad." He told her, giving Amy a tighter grip to make her feel this. "It's alright . . . lay still."

"NO!" She rejected. "I NEED to tell you NOW." She told him. "I NEED to Matt!" Amy dropped her head to his chest . . . whispering the words, sobbing the words 'I need you'. She finally closed her eyes.

"I'm here for you babe." Matt could hear her sniffs against his bandaged ribs, she was tired, broken. Whatever it was, Matt knew it was a deep wound. One of those wounds which takes years to heal . . . it had to be something troubled. Very corrupted, otherwise, Amy would never break herself to him like this. He let her remain there . . . resting her head, "You can trust ME Amy, you can tell me anything, anytime, anywhere. That's why I—"

But she didn't let her man finish.

"—Matt . . . please," Her voice was still torn. "I . . . I wanted to tell you before but . . . . . . . Jeff was just in the hospital after his accident. I . . . I didn't wanted to hurt you."

'Jeff's accident', so this was related to that. Matt thought. "Amy," He said, "You don't have to 'wait' for anything, you can tell me. What happened? Why are you so hurt?" He asked, she was holding this back when Jeff was INJURED?! Why didn't he listen to her when she told him about it last night, or the night before or before that? That was one of the reasons Matt blamed himself.

Looking down to her wet, brown eyes, Matt saw the tears falling from Amy's scratched inner soul. She started whimpering, trying to hold back the tears as he clearly saw, but she was failing. "Matt . . ." Her voice was thick, "I . . ."

"Amy you can tell me, ANYTHING." He had to swallow hard, she was sitting on the bed now, so Matt could be eye-to-eye with his girlfriend. But those eyes were now closed, and streams of tears soaked her cheeks while they flew from her sealed eyelashes. "Tell me," He held her hand, gripping it, urging her to have faith, to keep her strong and face the truth. The fear Amy felt was washing away from his words, "Trust me," he said again, she just had to say the 4 drastic and hellish words. The 4 words which sank her heart and she knew that it would make Matt's heart crash into tiny pieces. But she said it, her eyes closed, tears dripping from it, but she had Matt's hand, she still had a small amount of faith to face the truth. And the truth was to face Matt Hardy himself.

"I—" For Matt, the waiting part was the hardest, but after hearing what his girlfriend had to say, even Matt would regret he even heard it. Because, she said the words that would break any boyfriend's heart, she said something, which had already broken her heart. "I . . . slept with Batista." But she couldn't keep a secret . . . not from him.

~ Meanwhile ~

The sunrise of another morning came in sight when the bright rays fell on her face, waking her from the best night of sleep in weeks. The warmth from the comforter in the snowy January morning was one of the most welcoming feelings for a person to stay in bed. And sharing that bed with your soul-mate has to be even more pleasant. Stephanie McMahon stretched out to pop her senses back in her body, yawning a big breath, last night was the night she once again spent with her husband. Once again shared love with him which was something missed out in the last couple of weeks, or months for that matter. But now it was over, a good night's rest was finally finished and they could once again look on forward to a brighter day, her eyes were still shut.

Steph reached out for her husband on his side of the bed, but found it empty. Her eyes opened and she saw that in crystal vision, Paul Levesque, or Hunter Hearst Helmsley as he is better known, wasn't in the master bedroom. She looked around, trying to find a clue to where he was, but found nothing. He wasn't there.

She sighed and fell back to her pillow in disgust. "You are gonna be SO much in trouble when you get back Paul . . ." She muttered to herself. Last night was a special night for the two of them, but he bailed on her. Letting out another sigh, Stephanie decided to get out of her futon and get ready for the morning. Hunter was leaving for New Jersey the next morning for the RAW House-Show there. She needed to prepare his stuff. Most of the time however, she needed to get a hold of where exactly her husband is. She exited the bed, wrapped a robe around her body and headed for the bathroom.

~ New York ~

Words couldn't describe what Matt was feeling, speechless? Shocked? He felt something more. Amy told him everything, the night when Batista came to her room, how Chris Jericho was behind Jeff's accident and how she heard it, every single detail. "He's now blackmailing me." She sat on the couch near the window, looking at the outside snow falling so softly. How humble it seemed, the golden beam of the sun in the dawn of the morning, the sight would fool anybody to think this was a good day.

It wasn't.

The room fell into silence, you could hear a pin dropping, but the only thing that 'dropped' or rather 'broke' were hearts of the only two occupants. The pain in Matt's spine felt nothing to him compared to the pain in his heart. His breathing was slow . . . and his eyes were locked onto the blanket that was covering him. Matt sat on his bed, shocked. Through the corner of his eyes he saw Amy turning away from the light of the outside world, a single tear sparkled against her eyes. Her voice never sounded more broken than it was today. "I'm sorry Matt." Was all she could say . . .

Ashamed as she was on herself, Amy looked at Matt, searching for an answer, searching for—something—. She couldn't hope for his happy-pat-on-the-back, she at least hoped for her Matthew to tell her how he really felt. She hoped he would forgive her, in some, though miraculous, way IF he could forgive her. But what she found was something else. Amy never stopped crying, but when she saw Matt, he had his face on his palms. When he drew them away to look back to her eyes, she saw tears in his. Tears she thought she would never see in Matt's eyes, he never cried easily, just like any other champion, he never cried. He did today, and it made her heart loose its balance and cripple.

A whisper was everything she wanted to hear; one word from him, one word she could learn. This was one of Amy's worst fears; Matt hating her was unthinkable. She didn't want him to hate her, not MATT. She loved him, with all her heart she still loved him. If Matt hated her, she didn't know what her mind would do, she wouldn't —couldn't— live with herself. She needed love. She wanted truth. All she wanted was for things to go back the way they were. All she wanted was for that night to never happen . . .

"You should've told me earlier." She heard him saying, whispering and trying to keep his voice audible. Amy Dumas felt the suffering he was going through, she knew how he must've felt, she thought she knew. As for Matt, the feeling was beyond pain. No, he lived pain, he was having one in the center of his spine, but this pain was far stronger than that. He didn't know if there was any medication to heal that wound. "Why didn't you tell me?" He barely spoke a second time. Urging her to answer, begging for a reasonable response. He needed to know.

Her face was a mess, tears running down her skin, Amy didn't feel as bad as she was feeling right there. "Matty—" Her voice didn't make a sound.

"You should've told me," Matt almost stood up from his bed, as he spoke more tears formed and fell. "You should've told me when it happened. At least I . . . at least I could've DONE something about it." His voice tore apart, not normal anymore. "It's my fault," He said, "MY fault that son-of-a-bitch came to your room . . ."

"Matt!" She screamed, "NO! Why are you blaming yourself?!" She shouted, she stood up from the couch, she once again burst into the painful state of a sob.

"Then who WILL I blame Amy?!" He shouted back. "YOU?!"

Amy paused, shocked to what her ears were telling her. "Matthew . . ." She never saw him this hurt, she really couldn't argue with that fact.

"I . . . I can't blame you." Matt cried, his voice lowered, as he spoke, "I just can't."

"Matty . . ." She came closer, tried to hug him, to comfort him,

"NO!" But Matt jerked away; he was confused. Too confused, too fast.

"Matt . . ." Her voice was softer than a snowflake, "Don't blame yourself . . . don't DO this." She told him. But why was she telling him this? He was jerking away . . . could it be? That Matt started to hate her?

A third voice was heard; interrupting both of them, the door of the room suddenly opened and in walked Trish. "Hey guys! I thought I'd—" But even the blonde diva was shocked to see her best friend and her best friend's boyfriend in a situation like that. They were crying?

Matt's eyes looked up from the floor to see the visitor standing there, a flower was in her hand. "Is Chris with you?" He boldly demanded.

Trish was frightened, innocently she nodded and pointed towards the hallway outside the room. Matt was standing there only in a pair of black shorts and the bandages wrapped around his midsection and chest. Other than that, he was bare. And he did not wait another second before dashing out the door, practically running to slam open the door and look for Y2J's form. Chris Jericho had gotten far, noted Matt, it was him all the fuck along and he was playing mind games with him and Amy?! Jericho would wish he wasn't born as angered as Matt was, the Hardcore Champion ignored every ounce of pain in his back. It felt like snapping in two as he ran out the door, Amy was screaming for him to stop, but Matt didn't.

When he reached the hallway of the hospital he searched right and left to look for Jericho, he found the blond man running the opposite direction of him with a speed Matt knew he couldn't match in that state. But he didn't stop.

He would murder if he had to, the boiling point of beating someone senseless and it was Jericho. After all it was Chris himself who put Matt in that injured position with the chair only last night.

"GOD DAMN!" Jericho screamed in terror as he ran and saw Matt running at him with all the strength he had left.

The pain in his back started getting worse, as he ran with every tissue in his body moving and a lot of people shouting at him to stop, Matt didn't. But half way there, he felt the spine in his back completely break into two with unbearable pain screwing through his center, Matt screamed out with that pain, he lost his legs in feel and fell to the floor. Shouting for Y2J to come back and face him. Everything hurt, his body, his heart, his complete being. Matt couldn't tolerate it anymore, he couldn't get himself up, Amy and Trish came to him and pulled him up thankfully. "Matt! What were you thinking?!" Trish yelled at him.

Truth was, he didn't think. His head was pounding with pain just like his soul, what Matt really felt was hatred, or angst was the most appropriate word. The pain in his back grew so much that tolerating it wasn't possible anymore. Jericho ran to an elevator as Matt saw through his eyes, turning his head rightwards, he saw Amy, Lita, holding him up by her shoulder, trying to keep Matt on his feet. She was there for him . . . but why? The question will always remain why?

(To BE Continued)

A/N- Next Update on Tuesday/Wednesday! Be there!