She had accepted all of the congratulations and the well-wishes with her signature dignity and style. She had hugged each of her co-workers, and a lot of the fans. She had shared memories and laughs with the people who had become like family to her.
And now, standing in at the entrance to one of the arena tunnels, she watched as the roadies loaded the final pieces of the ring into crates. They would move it to the next city and set it up in record time. It would support more wrestlers. It would collect more sweat. It would see more blood, and absorb more tears.
The ring would go on to the next city. She would not.
"You ready to get out of here, Champ?"
The voice behind her startled Trish, as she turned, offering a bittersweet smile to the man standing over her shoulder. "Can I just have one more minute?"
He nodded and dropped a kiss on the crown of her head before leaving her alone to ponder. Though she insisted she was ready for this evening, and for her chance to move into a new portion of her life, he could see the pain in her eyes. And he knew better than to rush her.
Did I make the right decision?
The question had flooded her mind since the end of her match on Monday Night's edition of Raw. The love from the crowd had blown her away. Sure, it was her hometown, but it had caused her heart to jump into her throat when the "Thank You, Trish" chants started to echo through the arena.
And now it was over. She had been reliving memories for weeks, but realizing that now it was all just that, a fleeting memory of who she had been for seven years of her life, was hard to swallow. Especially considering all of the circumstances surrounding her decision to walk away.
As though someone else was watching, the lights in the arena began to go out as the last of the roadies left the floor. And even as the room faded into darkness, Trish felt her own heart breaking inside her chest. They would never know just how hard it was for her to walk away.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she sighed and hung her head. Over. It all sounded so final. They said she could come back, but she knew that it would never be the same. It would never feel like it had that night, like it had for the last seven years. Nothing would ever feel like those years had felt.
"Trish?" The deep voice behind her startled the petite diva as she stared at the floor, unable to face him. He sensed the tightening in her shoulders as he approached, standing at her left, their arms brushing in the darkness. "I thought you'd be long gone by now."
"I'm not ready to let go."
They both knew that her words were about so much more than the business. And the silence that enveloped them screamed volumes into the echoing hallways. "It's not to late."
She instantly regretted raising her face to his. His piercing blue eyes embraced her, pulling her in without permission. As though disconnected from her mind, her body moved toward him, pressing her chest against his. Strong arms wrapped around her waist immediately and she buried her face in his chest.
He ran his hands over the exposed skin on her back, savoring the soft warmth for what he couldn't believe was the last time. He had tried everything to convince her to stay, and nothing had worked. She could tell the whole world that she was leaving because it was time, but only the two of them would know the truth.
She was engaged to a great guy who loved her more than anything. He was the one her family loved, the one they all got along with. He was the one that was right for her, the one who had been there for her since high school. He was everything she had always wanted.
While the infidelity and vices of the male Superstars was legendary within the WWE, Trish could personally attest to the fact that the women were just as susceptible. She had never meant to end up in his bed that night. She had never intended to feel such a strong connection with him. And she had never expected to let him so far into her heart.
Her ailing mother had said it best, when Trish had sat beside her hospital bed and sobbed a confession of all her infidelities. "You are my princess. My Cinderella. You deserve to be with your Prince Charming."
Pulling back from the last embrace, she wiped the tears from her face and then reached a thin hand to wipe one wayward drop from his cheek. "It's over," she whispered, turning and walking toward the exit.
Fairy tale writers couldn't have scripted the end of her professional life any better. Maybe she deserved the same for her personal life If that was the case, he realized as he watched her go, then he wasn't the guy for her, after all. Because if anyone knew Randy Orton was no Prince Charming, it was the Legend Killer himself.
As the heavy door clanked behind her, Trish stifled another sob and almost turned back. He promised to be there waiting, if she decided that she wanted a life with him. But a promise from him was no garuntee.
"I'm thinking this night calls for some Double Fudge Mint Chip in a waffle cone, don'tcha think?"
With a smile, Trish squared her shoulders. This was her life now. And it would be beautiful. As soon as she got used to it, it would be beautiful. It will be beautiful.
