Part 5
Lita
walked slowly down the hallway, her head hanging miserably. Tonight
had been the worst night in her entire life, no exceptions. When she
thought about what had happened, she was kicking herself... she
should have seen it coming. When Chris Jericho called her for the
Highlight Reel and brought out Matt Hardy, she should have known. She
should have known a week ago, when Matt himself called her to explain
to her that he was jumping to Raw. She should have known when he told
her he was sorry for all he had done in the past, and that he wanted
their old relationship back. Matt Hardy could not be trusted, period.
She should have been smarter. Matt waltzed down to the ring and acted
as though nothing ever happened between them, grabbing her and
hugging her tightly. Even when he got down on his knee and told her
he had a question to ask her, Lita's mind was screaimg at her the
whole time to not even give the idea of being with Matt again a
second thought. To think that that sorry excuse for a man would have
the nerve to call her selfish.
Lita paused for a minute,
hoisting her bag up over her shoulder and blinking back tears. She
was just so heartbroken... first Christian, and now Matt all over
again? Why were men always out to make a fool out of her, to get a
cheap laugh at her expense? The feeling she got in her stomach when
Matt jumped off of the apron earlier that night, refusing to be
tagged in during their match against Molly and Eric Bischoff, was
inexplainable. She knew right then and there that the whole thing was
a setup. As if Eric Bischoff pinning her - thus costing Lita her job
- wasn't enough, then Matt had to get in the ring, dumping her on
national television... for the second time. What an ass that made
her look like. She thought back to when she stood in the corner of
the ring, watching painfully as Matt glared down at her.
"All
you had to do was join V1 on Smackdown," he told her, as if he
didn't know how important competing on Raw for the Women's
Championship was to her. The idea of going to Smackdown had bikini
contest written all over it, and Lita was not about to be turned into
a redheaded version of Torrie Wilson. Finally, she heard the three
words that hurt her the most.
"We are through!" Matt
Hardy's voice bellowed through her head, painfully slicing her
heart.
Lita once gain forced the tears back, glancing up as
she finally saw the door. It was only down the hall, but it still
seemed so far away. To be honest, though, as much as she wanted to
get the hell out, she was dreading it at the same time. She wanted,
even more than to reach the door, for it to just disappear. Lita
wasn't dumb... she knew that once she stepped outside that door,
everything was over. Once she left the arena, everything - her
career, her relationship, her life - was
all over. Glancing down at her bag, her lip quivered as she caught
sight of her dog, Mason. Tears finally escaped and slid down her
cheeks as she met his tiny eyes, ones that almost looked as though
they held sympathy. Christ, even her dog was feeling sorry for her.
Then, a thought occurred to her. All of her friends were in the
wrestling business. Now that she would be off the road, away from all
of them, she would be all alone, with her dog as her only companion.
God, how pathetic would that be?
Trish had approached her
earlier in the Women's Locker Room while Lita was getting her things
together a short while earlier to assure her that their friendship
would remain intact, regardless of what happened to her. "Lita,
just because you aren't a WWE employee anymore does not mean you
and I aren't going to be friends," she had said. "You're
one of my best friends. I love you, and nothing that Eric
Bischoff does will change that." As confident as Trish had
sounded, Lita was afraid that it just wouldn't happen that way. Sure,
for a few weeks or so after everyone would call to check up on her,
and people would come visit her on their days off, but she knew that
soon after, they would forget. It would be just like her neck injury
all over again. Once people got the idea that she could make it on
her on, they'd forget, leaving her to fade away.
"What am
I going to do?" she asked herself.
Never before in her
life had she experienced such feelings of despair, nor had she ever
felt so lost, out of place. Even with all of the moving she did when
she was younger, the constant jumping from place to place, never
during all of that time did she feel the way she did now. That was
because she had stayed here, in the WWE, long enough to form
relationships with people, long enough to get attached to her
coworkers and to her job. She didn't think she could ever get over
it.
As she continued to silently trudge down the hall, her bag
flung over her shoulder, her keys slipped from her grasp, dropping to
the floor. On any normal day, she would have simply bent down to pick
them up, but because of her day, and the amazing amount of stress she
was under, she wanted to scream. All she had done was drop her keys,
and she felt like picking them up and chucking them down the hall as
hard as she could. Sighing exhaustedly, she leaned down to pick them
up. When she grabbed a hold of them, she glanced forward, noticing a
pair of feet in front of her. Great, she thought to herself, I
wonder who that could be. She had been expecting someone like
RVD, or Tommy Dreamer, or maybe even Jericho to be standing in front
of her, but she knew it was none of those three. She stood slowly,
her eyes widening slightly as she discovered who was standing in
front of her.
"Christian..."
