Disclaimer: I don't own Randy Orton or Jackie Gayda or basically any characters in this story.

I was going to write a story out of this storyline with many chapters, but for now I've decided to write only a one-shot fic. Don't ask me why, cause even I am not clear. I just know that this have been in my mind for a while and I decided to write about it now. Maybe this will be a mini-series or maybe I'll write a novel fic. It all depends on your comments (ahem) and my current mood. Enough for now, enjoy my story!

The television was turned on, and in her hand was a bowl of rocky road ice cream, her eyes focusing intently on the program in front of her. Eternity was her favorite soap opera and she never missed an episode. Even when on Raw, she always had someone taped it for her. It can be said she watched it religiously. Today's episode was an especially riveting one as Tony, the handsome son in his mid-twenties and heir to his father's empire, was betrothed to Melinda, the rich spoiled granddaughter and heiress to her grandfather's prosperous hotel chain. They despised each other yet were forced to participate in the arranged marriage. She leaned closer to hear every word of their conversation- or rather argument.

"I don't want to marry you!" Melinda screamed to the man before her.

Tony glared at her coldly before stating, "The feeling's mutual."

Melinda screamed again and stomped her foot angrily. "I hate you! You- you- despicable excuse for a human being."

Tony stepped closer to her, his eyes filled with anger and rage. "At least I'm not some spoiled bitch," he retorted icily.

She hadn't even noticed when the door opened behind her and a clear, familiar voice filled the room. "What are you doing?" were the first words that came from his mouth.

She didn't answer him and concentrated on the television screen. She could sense him moving closer behind her and began to tense up. But not in the usual way one would have thought, she wasn't scared of him. But she couldn't explain what the feeling was either. She just knew she was in an uncomfortable situation. She almost jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Jackie…" his voice trailed off, but still no response from her.

Was she playing hard to get, she didn't know. She wanted to laugh at the thought. Playing hard to get were for people who were in love, yet one of them didn't want to admit it. That wasn't her, was it? She mentally shook her head. No, she had no feelings toward him. Not in the beginning, and surely not now. Then why was she here? The question led her to the beginning.

"What?! I have to marry him?" Her mouth gaped open in shock and her eyes were wide as saucers. This couldn't be happening.

The woman across from her gazed at her sadly. She knew how much her daughter didn't want this, yet there was no other way. "I'm sorry. It's just…I promised his mother when she was very ill. She would not rest-at least not with peace-until I promised. I didn't want to."

She could feel the tears springing from her eyes, making her vision blurry, yet she didn't care. "But why me?" she inquired with despair and curiosity.

The woman sighed. "His mother felt you're the one who could make her son happy, that you're his soul mate."

She clenched the edge of the table tightly, not daring herself to let go, for fear of the consequences. "That's crazy! We hate each other!"

Her mother looked at her. Her eyes were understanding yet filled with pity. "I know. But she felt that your open hatred was masking your true feelings for one another."

Suddenly the atmosphere was warmer, the walls were closing in, and she found herself struggling to breathe. She clutched the front of her silk blouse, as if attempting to draw in air. She closed her eyes, and inhaled deeply, trying to clear her mind. She wished someone would knock her unconscious so she would not have to face this nightmare.

"…in sickness and in health, until death do you part?" The minister looked up from his book and peered at them.

She looked around the room, sublimely hoping someone would stand up and object; or for a huge crater to drop in through the roof of the chapel and prevent this predicament. But no such luck. She averted her gaze to the groom in front of her and hesitantly replied, "I do."

"I'm getting the master bedroom and you're sleeping in the guest room," she declared.

"Why do you get the master bedroom?" He jabbed a finger at her.

"Because-because…" she paused, thinking of an answer, "I said so." She grinned triumphantly as if her reasoning was pure genius-at least she thought so.

He huffed and scowled, "Fine."

She smirked as she watched him stomp away to his guest room. She peered inside the master bedroom and couldn't help fawn over the fancy furniture and palatial size. She could fit twenty people in there! She kept grinning as her eyes checked out the king size bed with silk drapes. She could get use to this.

"Help me," she instructed the man beside her, who was busy wrapping Christmas presents.

He looked up at her and his brows furrowed as he watched her struggle to put the star on top of the tree. She was standing on a steel chair, tip-toeing to gain some height. "You're going to fall if you keep doing that," he pointed out, and then went over to help her. He hoisted her on top of his shoulders so she could reach the top of the pine tree.

She stretched her arm and smiled gleefully when alas the golden star was on top of the Christmas tree. She clapped her hands together and gushed, "It's so beautiful." She looked down at him and grinned. "Thanks." She had meant it too, which surprised her.

He didn't respond, and just smiled-a sincere smile, which was rare, for them at least. She then started moving and he looked up at her. "What are you doing?" he questioned in confusion.

She didn't say anything and jumped off his shoulders. He watched her run upstairs. A few minutes later, she bounced down the stairs holding a small box.

"This is for you," she had said, holding out her hand.

He retrieved it slowly and glanced up at her.

"Open it," she told him, smiling.

Curiously, he pulled off the lid, and inside was a ring. He stared at the ring and looked at her, wondering why she gave him such a gift.

She took the ring from his hand and slipped it onto his finger. It was a perfect fit. "For you," she said quietly.

He kept looking at her, confused and searching for answers.

Almost as if she could read his mind, she replied, "It's a friendship ring. It means we'll be friends forever."

He continued staring at the ring, not able to keep his eyes off of it. He smiled slowly as he thought of the meaning behind it. He gazed at her, seeing her sigh in relief. She probably interpreted his silence as a sign of distaste. "Thanks," he said sincerely.

"You're welcome."

She rolled the snow into a small, yet effective round ball and threw it at him. She pouted as he ducked. "You can't get away!" She threw it again and he ducked. While she was busy gathering more snow, she felt cold ice hit her arm, nearly knocking her over. "Hey!" she cried in mock indignation. She threw her ball of snow and this time, it hit him squarely in the face.

"Ow!" he cried.

She quickly rushed over to him. "Are you okay? I'm so sorry." He was covering his left eye with his hand.

Then suddenly, he removed his hand and grinned. "Got you!" He laughed at how gullible she was.

She clenched her fists. "Randy Orton! You had me worried. I thought you were hurt." She turned away so he could not see the tears springing to her eyes. She felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, "I'm sorry. It was just a joke."

She turned to face him, face flushed with anger. "That wasn't funny! Couldn't you joke about something else?"

He looked down, kicking the snow beneath him. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

"Look!" She pointed to the ceiling.

He glanced up and notice there were some mistletoe hanging above. "Mistletoe…so what?"

She rolled her eyes at his dense question. "It means we have to kiss," she replied matter-of-factly.

His eyes opened wide. The only time they kissed was on their wedding day. "W-What?" he stammered.

"It's a tradition," she stated and before he could reply, leaned towards him and pecked him on the lips.

And now she found herself sitting on the couch with him closely behind her.

"You know the deadline is up," he broke in calmly, his blue eyes emotionless.

"I know," she acknowledged, not tearing away from the screen in front of her.

"Damn it, Jackie," he raked his fingers through his hair frustratingly, "say something! Don't you care?"

Does she care? He asked her if she cared. The whole year they spent together, through good times and bad, and he asked if she cared. She whipped around sharply, piercing hazel eyes glaring at him. "Of course I care!" she burst out.

He took a step back, shocked at her sudden outburst. He surely didn't expect that reaction. "If you cared," he started after regaining his composure, "then why are you paying attention to the show more than you do me?"

She looked down at the leather couch, admiring its smoothness. Then finally whispered, "You don't know how hard this is for me." She shut her eyes tightly. "You don't know how hard it is for me…knowing I have to let go."