Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or it's wrestlers, but front row seats would be nice! :)
If you would like to borrow this story, please ask first, thanks!
Chapter 4: Do You Dream of Me?
Sleep deprived, Amy spent the next few days restlessly wandering Gilbert Hardy's house. Very depressed, she didn't know what to do. She missed Matt terribly, but knew deep down he was right, she needed the space away from him. Sighing, she looked out the window and stared up at the full moon. *He hasn't called since he left 3 days ago. I wonder if he is okay, or maybe wrestling just has his complete attention right now. That's what usually happens.* Ruefully, she watched as moonlight flooded the floor of their bedroom. Closing her eyes, Amy let her mind drift . . . 'Our room . . .*
Flashback:
Matt sat down on the bed and pulled her into his lap, "Red, you could
be wearing a potato sack and I would still think you are gorgeous - inside
and out."
"Face it, I'm too much for you," Amy said, a saucy grin on her face.
"Never!" Cupping her face in his, Matt's lips passionately claimed hers. Caressing his face with her fingertips, Amy fervently returned the kiss.
Flash forward to the present:
As her body relaxed due to sheer exhaustion, she whispered longingly, "Matt, do you still dream of me?"
In Connecticut:
Frustrated, Matt flopped back on the hotel bed. Taking a deep breath, he slid his hands behind his head. *This is not what I need right now. I need to speak with Amy, be with Amy, set things right.*
Flashback:
Quickly Nora turned away, biting her lip, as Matt gave Amy one last,
lingering hug.
"Now don't do anything that I wouldn't do," Matt whispered into her ear,
a smile in his voice.
"Mm hmm, " Amy nodded, unable to speak. I, I don't know why I'm getting so weepy, it must be the hormones," Amy mumbled weakly.
Matt chuckled. "Take it easy on your mother little one," he whispered against Amy's stomach, patting it gently.
Flash forward to the present:
Troubled, Matt wearily got up off the bed and pulled open the curtain to reveal a full moon glittering back at him. Sighing, he closed his eyes and whispered longingly, "Amy, do you still dream of me?"
"Amy, sweetheart."
"Mmm," Amy mumbled as a gentle hand shook her shoulder. Wearily, she opened one eye, focusing on Gilbert Hardy. "Oh, Mr. Hardy!" she exclaimed jumping up, "I must have fallen asleep," Amy apologized.
"You've been exhausted, you needed the rest. I hope you don't mind me waking you up, but you have a visitor who would like to see you."
"Okay," Amy hesitantly replied. She couldn't refuse his gentle, imploring eyes. Slowly, she raised herself from the window seat and made her way to the drawing room. Quietly, Gilbert Hardy closed the doors behind her. Feeling trapped, Amy whirled around to see a timidly smiling Trish carefully watching her.
"I'm fine!" Amy cried, exasperated.
"Uh huh, you look fine. Shutting Matt and everyone else out," Trish quietly added.
"How dare you!" Amy seethed.
"Amy, look at yourself. It's not hard to see what has been happening. You and Matt have a wonderful relationship, and it's deteriorating before your very eyes. Don't let the two of you become nothing more than a memory," Trish pleaded.
"Thank you Dr. Freud," Amy replied tartly.
"Alright fine. If you are going to treat the people that care about you, like crap, I'm just wasting my time." Trish slowly wobbled to the door.
"Trish," Amy pleaded. "Hey. I'm sorry. I know you are trying to help." Trish turned around, but not without difficulty. "I feel horrible inside," Amy continued. I have awful feelings of hate and anger towards Matt, and I don't know how to cope with them."
Trish's eyes widened, "You're blaming Matt for this?"
Amy hung her head guiltily. "I know it's not 'the right thing,' but the feelings come so easily," she confessed.
Trish shook her head. "No, I should have known. Actually, I wondered about it. Matt looked devastated. The light, the fire, in his eyes died. Like yours, actually," Trish finished softly.
Tears sprung up in Amy's eyes, "I know this has hurt Matt as much as it has me. I haven't made it any easier though by lashing out at him. In the past few weeks, I have said very little to Matt and any physical contact with him has been out of the question. I don't understand. We have been through so much, weathered so many storms, why can't we tough this out?"
"That's just it Amy, you and Matt don't have to tough it out. Have either of you spoken to a counselor about any of this?" Trish asked in concern.
Amy shook her head. "I thought, was hoping, we could work through this. So was Matt, but I don't know any more Trish." Helplessly, Amy collapsed onto the couch as Trish sat down next to her. Trish wrapped her arms around Amy, as she let the torrential downpour of tears fall.
"Come on. Let's get you something to drink and then you need to speak to Ma.." Trish let out a gasp as a spasm clenched her stomach.
Hesitantly, Amy pulled back. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Trish answered through clenched teeth.
"Getting back to the subject at hand, why didn't you tell me about all of this sooner?" Trish chastised, trying to smile.
"You know me," Amy answered wryly.
"Yeah, a little too wel.." Trish let out a yelp.
"Trish, I think we should get you to a hospital," Amy answered.
"No, no I'm okay. Really. I have been having false labor pains all week."
Suspiciously, Amy cocked her eyebrow, "How do you know they are false?"
"Because last week, I went for a check-up and my doctor explained that I was having false labor pains," Trish replied irritably.
"Alright, alright, just sit down, okay? It will make me feel better. Let me get you something to drink and I'll be back in a second."
Amy leaned out the sliding glass door and asked, "Mr. Hardy, would you like a glass of ice-cold tea?"
Mr. Hardy shook his head and smiled. "No thanks." Just then, a loud scream erupted from the drawing room. Instantly, Amy rushed back into the room, followed by a concerned Mr. Hardy.
"I..am..going..into labor," Trish panted.
If you would like to borrow this story, please ask first, thanks!
Chapter 4: Do You Dream of Me?
Sleep deprived, Amy spent the next few days restlessly wandering Gilbert Hardy's house. Very depressed, she didn't know what to do. She missed Matt terribly, but knew deep down he was right, she needed the space away from him. Sighing, she looked out the window and stared up at the full moon. *He hasn't called since he left 3 days ago. I wonder if he is okay, or maybe wrestling just has his complete attention right now. That's what usually happens.* Ruefully, she watched as moonlight flooded the floor of their bedroom. Closing her eyes, Amy let her mind drift . . . 'Our room . . .*
Flashback:
Matt sat down on the bed and pulled her into his lap, "Red, you could
be wearing a potato sack and I would still think you are gorgeous - inside
and out."
"Face it, I'm too much for you," Amy said, a saucy grin on her face.
"Never!" Cupping her face in his, Matt's lips passionately claimed hers. Caressing his face with her fingertips, Amy fervently returned the kiss.
Flash forward to the present:
As her body relaxed due to sheer exhaustion, she whispered longingly, "Matt, do you still dream of me?"
In Connecticut:
Frustrated, Matt flopped back on the hotel bed. Taking a deep breath, he slid his hands behind his head. *This is not what I need right now. I need to speak with Amy, be with Amy, set things right.*
Flashback:
Quickly Nora turned away, biting her lip, as Matt gave Amy one last,
lingering hug.
"Now don't do anything that I wouldn't do," Matt whispered into her ear,
a smile in his voice.
"Mm hmm, " Amy nodded, unable to speak. I, I don't know why I'm getting so weepy, it must be the hormones," Amy mumbled weakly.
Matt chuckled. "Take it easy on your mother little one," he whispered against Amy's stomach, patting it gently.
Flash forward to the present:
Troubled, Matt wearily got up off the bed and pulled open the curtain to reveal a full moon glittering back at him. Sighing, he closed his eyes and whispered longingly, "Amy, do you still dream of me?"
"Amy, sweetheart."
"Mmm," Amy mumbled as a gentle hand shook her shoulder. Wearily, she opened one eye, focusing on Gilbert Hardy. "Oh, Mr. Hardy!" she exclaimed jumping up, "I must have fallen asleep," Amy apologized.
"You've been exhausted, you needed the rest. I hope you don't mind me waking you up, but you have a visitor who would like to see you."
"Okay," Amy hesitantly replied. She couldn't refuse his gentle, imploring eyes. Slowly, she raised herself from the window seat and made her way to the drawing room. Quietly, Gilbert Hardy closed the doors behind her. Feeling trapped, Amy whirled around to see a timidly smiling Trish carefully watching her.
"I'm fine!" Amy cried, exasperated.
"Uh huh, you look fine. Shutting Matt and everyone else out," Trish quietly added.
"How dare you!" Amy seethed.
"Amy, look at yourself. It's not hard to see what has been happening. You and Matt have a wonderful relationship, and it's deteriorating before your very eyes. Don't let the two of you become nothing more than a memory," Trish pleaded.
"Thank you Dr. Freud," Amy replied tartly.
"Alright fine. If you are going to treat the people that care about you, like crap, I'm just wasting my time." Trish slowly wobbled to the door.
"Trish," Amy pleaded. "Hey. I'm sorry. I know you are trying to help." Trish turned around, but not without difficulty. "I feel horrible inside," Amy continued. I have awful feelings of hate and anger towards Matt, and I don't know how to cope with them."
Trish's eyes widened, "You're blaming Matt for this?"
Amy hung her head guiltily. "I know it's not 'the right thing,' but the feelings come so easily," she confessed.
Trish shook her head. "No, I should have known. Actually, I wondered about it. Matt looked devastated. The light, the fire, in his eyes died. Like yours, actually," Trish finished softly.
Tears sprung up in Amy's eyes, "I know this has hurt Matt as much as it has me. I haven't made it any easier though by lashing out at him. In the past few weeks, I have said very little to Matt and any physical contact with him has been out of the question. I don't understand. We have been through so much, weathered so many storms, why can't we tough this out?"
"That's just it Amy, you and Matt don't have to tough it out. Have either of you spoken to a counselor about any of this?" Trish asked in concern.
Amy shook her head. "I thought, was hoping, we could work through this. So was Matt, but I don't know any more Trish." Helplessly, Amy collapsed onto the couch as Trish sat down next to her. Trish wrapped her arms around Amy, as she let the torrential downpour of tears fall.
"Come on. Let's get you something to drink and then you need to speak to Ma.." Trish let out a gasp as a spasm clenched her stomach.
Hesitantly, Amy pulled back. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," Trish answered through clenched teeth.
"Getting back to the subject at hand, why didn't you tell me about all of this sooner?" Trish chastised, trying to smile.
"You know me," Amy answered wryly.
"Yeah, a little too wel.." Trish let out a yelp.
"Trish, I think we should get you to a hospital," Amy answered.
"No, no I'm okay. Really. I have been having false labor pains all week."
Suspiciously, Amy cocked her eyebrow, "How do you know they are false?"
"Because last week, I went for a check-up and my doctor explained that I was having false labor pains," Trish replied irritably.
"Alright, alright, just sit down, okay? It will make me feel better. Let me get you something to drink and I'll be back in a second."
Amy leaned out the sliding glass door and asked, "Mr. Hardy, would you like a glass of ice-cold tea?"
Mr. Hardy shook his head and smiled. "No thanks." Just then, a loud scream erupted from the drawing room. Instantly, Amy rushed back into the room, followed by a concerned Mr. Hardy.
"I..am..going..into labor," Trish panted.