Am I on a roll this week, or what? Lol I hope you guys have been enjoying all the updates. Thank you to absolutely everybody who's reviewed and favorited my stories. This update gave me all kinds of trouble. Let me know what you think :)
November 2003
"Memories"
Hunter had been struggling. Despite outside appearances, Evolution was stronger than ever, he was struggling with his own demons. He had never partied more. He visited clinics every other week to be tested for STDs. His drinking was out of control. Even his world-renowned fitness regime couldn't keep up with all of the liquor's calories.
His mother made a note of such as he entered her home to celebrate Thanksgiving with their family.
"Well, you look healthy."
"Thanks, Ma."
His father scolded her and clapped his son on the back.
"It's good to have you here, Hunter. You look well. Don't listen to your mother. She's cranky cause the turkey overcooked."
"Oh shut up, Paul."
Listening to his parents' bicker made him smile but not laugh. His sister eyed him skeptically.
The holiday was a successful one. The Helmsley's ate, drank, and were merry. They talked and joked, and enjoyed each other's company as always. They were a close family. A loving one too. Hunter enjoyed the evening of peacefulness. He only drank one glass of wine with dinner. His first moment of secret depression occurred while his father said grace.
"Let us be thankful for all of our loved ones, not just the ones at this table. And appreciate the fact that not everyone is as fortunate as us. There are others out there alone. Let's hope and pray God cares for them."
Was she alone? Probably not. Linda would be with her. And Shane too. Was she better? Had she healed? He still couldn't believe what Vince had done.
But then Mr. Helmsley finished leading his family in prayer and they all dug into the feast his mother had prepared. Hunter shook off his thoughts, and pulled faces at his niece and nephew as they ate. All was well for the meal, and he was grateful.
Afterwards, Patricia Helmsley shooed away her son's attempt to help her clear the table.
"Go get into PJ's. We're playing charades as soon as Lynn gets the kids down."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, seriously. It's a tradition. Don't think that big gold belt excuses you."
Rolling his eyes, The Game made his way upstairs to prepare himself for a night full of forced family fun. It took no time for his morbid thoughts to return.
She would leave almost every night. Off to ruin the WWE with her brother and Paul Heyman. The Alliance had no chance. He knew it. She probably did too deep down. But they didn't discuss it. He wanted her gone. He needed space to heal and spiral. So he said nothing. She probably wanted to leave, to get away from him. They'd done nothing but bicker and fight since his surgery.
When he tore his quad that night in the ring, he'd experienced a fear like no other. He saw everything he had vanish before his eyes. The title, his career, his passion, his friends, her. Everything. He knew if he didn't recover, he'd be put out to pasture. And everything he'd ever dreamed of having, everything he'd ever worked for would be gone. She would be gone.
And yet he clung to her. In the ambulance, on the way to the hospital, he had gripped her hand like a lifeline. When the doctor told him the damage, and how difficult it would be to recover, Hunter didn't even look at him. He had stared into her eyes the entire time, swimming in the blue and finding the buoy to hold on to, to make it through.
He sobbed that night. For the first time in his adult life, he wept shamelessly and mourned his leg and career before they had even left him. She had pulled his head to her chest and held him. For hours, he breathlessly cried and soaked her shirt with his tears. She held him until morning, raking her fingers through his hair, kissing the top of his head, and whispering that everything would be okay.
But once his surgery was completed, a week later, their marriage had begun to unravel. His surgeon was not one hundred percent confident that Triple H would be able to enter the ring once more, and even less confident that he would be as effective of an athlete. The doubt, pain, and cocktail of prescription meds ate Hunter alive. His fears, fatigue, and emotions spread like a virus inside him. He lashed out like a wounded animal. And she was the only one close enough to attack.
Her own infamous temper could only take so much. She allowed him three days of undisputed tirades, taking his snaps and snarls like a human punching bag. On the fourth day, she snapped back and their endless arguments turned nasty and hurtful within a week. She slept in the guest room for almost a month. The doctor had suggested it. If he wanted to recover to his former, lethal self, then they could take no chances.
His third week appointment granted her return to their marital bed. It defused the tension for a bit. Despite how much they fought, he found solace in her sleeping body beside him. But then one night, she rolled against him in her sleep. And his own unconscious self was happy for the contact. Their legs entangled and he howled in pain. The fear came next and it turned him into a monster. He screamed and swore until she was bawling. An appointment for the next day was made first thing in the morning. He had demanded an MRI, convinced she had just destroyed all his hopes and dreams.
She hadn't. His quadricep was healing perfectly. The medicine and grueling physical therapy was working. He needn't be so worried. His doctor assured him that everything was fine. He asked if Hunter was experiencing heightened dependency on the painkillers prescribed to him. Hunter lied and said no. When he limped into the waiting room on his crutches, Stephanie was as pale as a ghost waiting to hear the verdict. He grunted that his leg was okay and she almost fainted from the relief. After that, she lay stiff as a board on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible.
They hardly spoke. The atmosphere was thick and awkward. But she drove him to therapy every day nonetheless. Only when in the presence of trainers and doctors did they act normally. The facade was effective. They were both talented that way. No one suspected a thing. So eventually they continued the act at home too. Being cordial and courteous, but dying on the inside. He thought of nothing but his pain. It had morphed from physical to psychological. The medicine convinced him it was still there, in his leg. His fear wouldn't allow him to lower the dosage and wean himself off of the narcotics. She suggested it once. He insulted her intelligence, questioned her loyalty to him, and dared her to leave him. She spent the weekend in the city. But returned home for his Monday morning check-up. He apologized and promised to take his prescription as needed only. He never followed through.
Stephanie had all but jumped for joy when Shane turned up. He was starting a coo with Paul Heyman. He wanted her help and Hunter's too. Hunter said no. Shane's eyebrow quirked with how quickly his offer was shot down. But Stephanie took her husband's hand and put on the performance of a lifetime. Her brother left their home a bit jealous of how perfect his sister's marriage seemed to be, given the circumstances. He and his wife had just gone through a rough patch. His car had not fully reversed out of their driveway when the couple had begun arguing.
So she agreed to join the Alliance. She left almost nightly and got to step into the ring and feel the electricity of the crowd. She got to experience the world that he had been torn out of. His resentment of her was paramount. She barely felt it. He had already cut her out so expertly that she was immune to his cold shoulder. When she left, she prepared her luggage away from him, hiding it like a dirty secret. He always wandered to the opposite side of the house when she did this. A moment before she walked out of the door, she would call out to him and say goodbye. He responded with 'alright' or 'okay.' Never did they say 'I love you.' They hadn't done so since right before his surgery.
He had been dressed in a hospital gown with the silly cap on his head. He'd been petrified.
"You're going to be okay, Hunter. I promise."
"Steph," his voice was shaky.
"I know, baby. It's gonna be okay."
"I love you."
She stared into his eyes and brought her face close to his.
"I love you way more."
Hunter's anxiety finally lessened with her smile.
But by the time the Billion Dollar Princess purchased ECW, their loving departure before his quadriceps was repaired just over a month prior, felt like a century.
Stephanie's return to the home was much different than her departure. She would arrive just before sunrise and creep upstairs. She would use the guest bathroom to change and sometimes shower. She wouldn't turn on the hallway light. She did absolutely nothing to disturb his slumber. He knew she did this because more often than not, he was awake. He had wanted her to go away, to collect his thoughts. But once she'd left the first time, he learned that his mind did nothing but race whenever he was alone. This added to his resentment.
He could hear birds chirping outside by the time she snuck into their master suite. She tiptoed on the carpet and pulled down the sheets with extra care. He kept his breathing even and his eyes closed to avoid communicating. He would feel the bed dip when she climbed in beside him, and he waited to hear her settle before resuming his brooding. But she did not settle until carefully leaning over him and pressing her lips to his temple. Hunter flinched the first time she did so. She hovered over his head, scared she'd woken him. When he continued to lay perfectly still, she whispered, "I love you."
As the Alliance continued to infiltrate the WWE, and Hunter's rehabilitation progressed, this act became ritual. He would sleep only a few hours each night, anxious for her return. And from the second he heard the front door open, he would lay still. Her stealth improved with time. Sometimes he didn't even hear her enter the bedroom. So he just anticipated the unavoidable dip in the mattress and waited for her to kiss him. She always did. The location varied. She seemed to prefer his head, but sometimes she would gently kiss his cheek or shoulder. Once she kissed his hand.
It had been laying flat in the center of the mattress. He assumed she was tired, too tired to lean over him. So her lips had brushed his knuckles and he spent three days wondering if anyone had ever kissed his hand before.
She said 'I love you' every single time.
When the Alliance began to unravel and he was cleared to re-admit 'leg day' into his training, his doctor suspended Hunter's prescription to Vicodin. Just one day free of the pills and he called the physician to report a fever, the chills, and nausea. It was explained that he was detoxing. He told Stephanie that he had the flu. She made him soup and pressed a cold towel to his forehead, but her mind was absent. He was surprised, in his haze of withdrawal, that she barely looked at him. While caring for him, she stared at the floor. He passed out and never felt her fingers raking through his hair.
As the drugs left his system, and he began to see clearly again, he was shocked to find the state of his marriage to be in shambles. They hardly spoke. She didn't touch him anymore. They hadn't had sex since the night before his injury. But she had still held him for a while. For weeks, she hugged him, kissed him, and rested her head against his shoulder. Not anymore. The dark hole his pain and addiction had sucked him into, had held him captive for too long. When the Alliance fell, officially, he heard her crying in the shower. He wanted to comfort her. But he had forgotten how. He couldn't remember the last time he had initiated contact between them. It would seem like he was pitying her.
Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley hated pity. She didn't believe in it.
Despite her unemployment, she still managed to avoid their bedroom most nights. He had never seen her clean until there was nothing left to do but interact with him. Then she went about reorganizing their closets and scrubbing the shower tile after, apparently, their maid had not done a good enough job. When she ran out of mini-projects to conquer, she moved her daily training to the evenings.
He had converted the pool house to a state-of-the-art home gym just a few weeks before they married. She had added yoga mats, lighter weights, and a spin bike. They hadn't ever worked out together. They had always done everything else together. So training was something they kept to themselves. Before his quad tore, he would head straight to the gym first thing in the morning. She slept in, or in the summer, lounged by the pool and watched his muscles release and contrast through the glass walls of the old pool house. More than once, she helped him along his cardio routine by beckoning him into the water with her pointer finger. He would strip naked, dive into the deep end, and swim to where she sat on the pool steps. Then she would promptly straddle his lap and elevate his heart rate.
When he was satisfied with his workout, he would head inside to shower, change, and get to work in cementing his title as the cerebral assassin. He would review his ring work, study his opponents, and strategize his future moves within the company. She used this time to complete her own training.
By the time Thanksgiving 2001 rolled around, she hardly looked him in the eye.
"Hunter? Hunter?"
He jumped at the sound of his sister's voice. He had been rummaging through his gym bag on top of the king sized guest bed.
"I'm sorry, I was calling you."
He laughed and shrugged off her apology.
"Sorry, I was thinking."
"Yeah, I could tell," said Lynn a bit seriously. "You okay?"
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
"Yeah," he threw over his shoulder as he went into the bathroom to change.
Lynn projected her voice just a bit, to continue speaking with him.
"So," she started, "small world. My neighbor's daughter is in college in Texas. Beaumont, actually."
"Oh yeah," he called from the bathroom.
"Yes. She's a bartender at the Marriott there."
Hunter reemerged.
"Oh," he said.
"Mm."
He offered his sister a cheeky smile.
"Don't you give me that grin. I'm immune to it."
Chuckling, he said, "I didn't sleep with her, did I"
"No, but I got a pretty descriptive recount of what 'Evolution' gets up."
Hunter blushed a bit at the seriousness in his sister's tone.
"It's nothing bad, Lynn. Just stupid guy shit. Cars, parties –"
"Women."
He smirked again, "Sometimes."
"Are you okay?"
Her tone implied that they were switching gears. Hunter didn't like it.
"What's this about, Lynn?"
"I'm worried about you."
"Why?"
"You've gained some weight."
"Jesus. It's a couple of pounds, and I'm still the most in-shape of this family so –"
"Don't be a dick."
The tension was broken. The siblings laughed together for a moment before Hunter suggested they make their way back downstairs.
"In a second," Lynn persisted, taking her little brother's hand. She sat on his bed, looking up into his scowled face. After a moment, Hunter's stern expression softened. He blinked slowly, and his sister was able to see the sadness behind his droopy eyes.
"You can't lie to me, Hunter. I know you too well."
Nodding, he looked away from her eyes and swallowed.
"I miss her."
Lynn sighed before tugging his hand and guiding him to sit beside her.
"Have you talked to her?"
Hunter let out a quiet laugh that held no humor.
"No. She changed her number."
"You called her?"
Scratching the back of his neck, Hunter reluctantly responded with a mumbled, "Kinda."
When Lynn continued to look at him confused, he continued.
"I saw her. Last month after her match with Vince."
"She and Vince had a match? Against who?"
"Jesus, Lynn."
"What? Not everyone's life revolves around wrestling. You're lucky I watch Raw. If you quit tomorrow – Sorry."
She could tell he was getting legitimately annoyed.
"Okay, so they had a match."
"Against each other," Hunter clarified.
Lynn's eyes widened.
"Yeah. It was awful."
"What the fuck," whispered Lynn.
Hunter looked into his lap.
"She was in the hospital. I was there with Ric. It was a coincidence more than anything but seeing her…"
His sister allowed a moment to pass before speaking again.
"I'm sure you could get her number from someone."
"I know," he said heavily. "Do you think it's pathetic? For someone to forgive what she did."
Lynn sucked in a large breath, puffing out her cheeks before exhaling.
"I don't think anyone has the right to judge something like that. Personally, I don't know if I could look past it, but I'm not in love with her. I can't make that call."
Hunter averted his sister's gaze again. His face fell even further, but he shook his head.
Reaching out to hold his hand again, Lynn whispered, "You don't have to deny it. I know, Hunter."
Her heart broke for him.
"I'm sorry," he said. "You're the only one who knows how things really were. I can't talk about this with anyone else. Mom thinks –"
"That Steph's the devil, I know."
They exchanged a smile.
"You were there," he said. "You saw more than anyone."
"And yet, that was nothing. I don't know the ins and outs, Hunter. Only you and Steph do. And I think that was part of the problem. The two of you shut the world out."
"Yeah because -"
"I know why," she interrupted. "But that doesn't make it any healthier."
"Paul? Lynn?"
Their mother was calling them. And then so was Lynn's husband. Forced family fun was all inclusive during the holidays.
Hunter tried to enjoy it. He tried to be engaged. But only half his mind and none of his heart was in it. Emotions and memories swirled within him as usual. But he was with his family and they didn't provide the same level of noise as women, liquor, and nightclubs.
He hadn't meant to come into the room quietly. There was just no avoiding it. His feet were bare and the rugs were brand new.
And she was playing music. She usually did when getting ready for the day. So it wasn't a surprise to him that she was in there, in the walk-in closet of their master suite.
Her state of dress was a shock. It shouldn't have been. He'd seen his wife naked hundreds of times. But not lately. Not in a long time. Her back was to him so she didn't see him come in. And she couldn't have heard him either. The music was too loud. Hunter didn't recognize the song. It was some pop hit playing from the FM radio. He didn't like it.
What he did like was how her hips rolled in time with the beat. And how her bare bottom bounced from her movements every so often. He watched her hungrily, eyes moving over every curve he could see and practically begging her to turn around.
When she did, just a few seconds later, it was chaotic. He'd slipped into a trance, ogling her, mouth dry. She nearly had a heart attack. Thinking she was home alone, the sight of him in the doorway triggered her fight or flight.
Stephanie yelped and flailed her arms, gasping for breath and trying to calm her heart rate. It was funny, to him, at first. But then a deep red flush covered her face and she was quickly wrapping herself in an oversized bath towel.
They were joking and laughing, and he did his best to play along. His dad was up waddling, doing a hilarious rendition of Donald Duck's walk. The Helmsleys were roaring with laughter. Hunter mimicked them.
"Who does that?"
"What the fuck are you talking about?!"
"The duck from Disney," cried Lynn.
"Oh my God! How much wine have you drank? It's Donald Duck," laughed his brother-in-law.
"Why are you hiding from me?"
"I don't hide," she seethed.
"You're my wife!"
Her cynical laugh infuriated him. He hardly registered that the blush of her cheeks had not faded.
"What? So you're showing it to someone else?!"
She tightened her grip on the towel wrapped around her and promptly lost her temper. He had only a second before she was screeching at the top of her lungs.
"Hunter!" You're up."
"Nah, nah, nah," he stammered. He was fine to play along, guessing the charades. He wasn't about to actually stand in the middle of the living room and act like a buffoon.
"Oh, don't be like that," insisted his mother.
"Not tonight, Ma."
Disappointment filled Patricia's eyes. Hunter ignored it.
She didn't look up at him. She hadn't in days.
"Lynn's here," she said to the floor.
"Why?"
She shrugged, "I figured you invited her."
"I didn't," he answered quietly. He was upset with himself. He shouldn't have spoken to her like he had.
"Leave him alone, Patty,"
Mr. Helmsley chastised his wife, but shot Hunter a concerned look. Their baby boy had once been the most playful of the family. No one enjoyed having fun more than him. Now, he half-heartedly paid attention as those he loved bounced around him, and he made a lame excuse to visit the bathroom and avoid the holiday cheer.
Hunter tried his best to avoid talking about his marriage. For almost an hour, he steered the conversation away from Stephanie. He and Lynn discussed their parents and other family members. Lynn vented a bit about the struggles of being a mother with two young children. Hunter caught her up to speed on his recovery. They joked and laughed in between, grateful for the time together.
Lynn, however, could be as stubborn as her brother when she wanted to be. He may be the most ambitious, but all of the Helmsley's possessed sharp and intuitive minds.
"So," she started after a quiet moment. Hunter stilled, knowing where this was going. "What's going on with you and Steph?"
Looking around the empty kitchen, Hunter couldn't find a way out of her questioning so he shrugged.
"I'm not sure."
"You're usually all over each other."
"I know."
"What happened?"
"Nothing. The honeymoon stage ended, that's all."
Lynn eyed him skeptically.
"I could accept that if things weren't so awkward."
Her brother just shrugged stupidly again.
"Did you guys fight?"
"No."
It was too quick of an answer.
"What was it about?"
"It was stupid."
"Let me decide that."
An annoyed look was thrown her way. Lynn couldn't have cared less.
"I asked her if she was cheating on me."
Astonished, Lynn stuttered to respond.
"You think she's cheating? Don't you dare shrug again!"
Hunter smirked despite the seriousness of the moment.
"I'm not sure."
"Well why do you suspect something then?"
"I -" He paused, unable to lie to his big sister. "She doesn't change in front of me. I walked in on her, by accident, the other day and we fought."
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"So you guys haven't…"
"No. Not since I've been hurt."
"Oh."
Hunter looked again around the room. His sister carefully continued.
"That happens, you know. People get into ruts."
"Not us."
"You've only been married -"
"Exactly."
Matching eyerolls halted the conversation for just a second.
"Okay so you guys stopped being intimate because of your leg, that makes sense. What about now? Can you," she gestured awkwardly to the lower half of his body and laughed when his ears turned pink.
"Yeah."
"Have you initiated anything?"
"Lynn, she doesn't change in front of me."
"I get that, but it's not like she was nude last mother's day. You were practically dry-humping her in my driveway."
He shot her an annoyed look but said nothing.
"What about when you kiss?"
Her question resulted in a deafening silence. Lynn's eyebrows rose.
"Have you not -"
"It shouldn't just be the husband who -"
"I know. And you're right about that. But Hunter," her voice softened," if you haven't even kissed her in months, she probably thinks you don't want to."
He shifted in his seat.
"Steph's not insecure like that."
Lynn's eyes nearly popped out of her head.
"We're all insecure like that. Even you. How can you expect her to have the confidence to initiate sex, when you haven't felt confident enough to even kiss her."
"What? It's not an ego thing. I -"
"So you don't want to kiss her?"
"I didn't say that."
"Hunter -"
"No. Forget it. We'll be fine. It's just a weird time right now. Things will be better when everything's back to normal."
"You mean when you go back to work?"
"Yeah."
"The same place she's now exiled from?"
Hunter said nothing.
"Problems don't go away with a change of scenery. They need to be fixed."
He didn't reply for a second time. Lynn took the opportunity to talk some sense into him.
"This has been hard on her too, Hunter. I'm sure it has. She looked exhausted earlier. You should try and talk to her. I can't picture Stephanie turning you down."
"Why are you defending her like this? You and mom hate -"
"I don't hate Steph. And mom doesn't either, even though she'll never admit it."
"Seriously? Steph's been -"
"A brat, selfish, stubborn. She monopolizes your time. She's easily offended and rude on the best of days."
"That's my point."
"But she loves you, Hunter."
Her inflection of the word was wistful. Hunter blushed.
"She looks at you like there's a crown sitting on top of your head. We never have to worry about you. We know she's here, taking care of you. It's almost impossible for me to picture her leaving you, or cheating on you."
"She flirts with -"
"She's insecure."
"Steph's not -"
"Your wife is one of most insecure people I have ever met, Hunter. Wake up! She might not be shy in the bedroom, but everything about her screams 'love me, fear me, just don't leave me.' That family of hers -"
"I know," he interrupted, voice rough. "Believe me, I know."
Lynn watched her brother's face fall as he lost himself in thought.
"Are you mad at her? Has she not been supportive during all this?"
A sad smile pulled at the corner of his mouth as he watched the fire.
"No," he said. "Nothing like that. She's been great."
"Hunter?"
"Just a second, Dad."
Shaking his head, Hunter refocused his sight onto his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He'd been washing his hands for almost five minutes. Quickly, he grabbed a towel to dry his hands and then opened the door. His father stood on the other side of the threshold, looking concerned.
"You alright, son?"
"Yeah."
Paul tilted his head at the wrestler, unconvinced.
"You don't have to lie to me."
"I know," answered Hunter, a bit exasperated. He was getting tired of his family's meddling. Good intentioned or not.
"Okay," said his father, his hands up in a surrender. "I just wanted to check on you. I told the others you should probably go up to bed. I can't imagine you've gotten enough sleep. You never do."
A deep sigh deflated the Heavyweight Champion. He suddenly felt exhausted. And sad.
"Yeah. Thanks, dad."
His father patted him on the shoulder, looking like he wanted to say something. But Paul Helmsley knew when to pry and went to grant space. He offered his son a tight smile before sending him up to bed. Hunter obliged absent-mindedly, his mind two years in the past.
"Who's a good girl? Huh? Who's a good girl?"
He almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. Quieting his footsteps, he moved down the hallway and peered into the kitchen.
Stephanie was on the floor, cooing at his dog and rubbing her belly. Lucy squirmed happily as Stephanie's nails scratched all the places her squat bulldog legs and feet couldn't reach.
"Look at this belly! Where did it go? Huh? Where did it go? The doctor's so proud of you!"
The vet! Shit! He was supposed to bring Lucy to the veterinarian today. She was on a new diet for weight loss. She'd gotten a bit pudgy with his recent inability to walk her.
He watched her scoop Lucy up and deposit her onto the counter. Hunter jumped in alarm. If the dog fell – but Lucy sat down. Her bum wiggled impatiently as Stephanie opened the refrigerator. They'd done this before.
"I think you've earned us a cheat meal, Lucy."
The dog tapped her front paws on the granite.
"Carrots and peanut butter it is then," said Stephanie, closing the fridge door with her elbow, "But it's right back onto our diet tomorrow." She promptly dipped a baby carrot into the jaw of peanut butter and offered it to the dog. "The bitches of this house have been doing far too much emotional eating."
Hunter couldn't stop the small smile stretching his lips as he quietly stepped to the kitchen's threshold. Stephanie didn't notice him. She watched in amusement as the bulldog consumed her snack with happy grunts. She was practically a pig.
"I think you guys look good."
His voice startled both his wife and his dog. They both jumped and looked towards him. Lucy shuffled to the edge of the counter.
With his eyes on Stephanie, he moved towards them and lifted the dog.
"I see why she's turned into such a beggar."
"She's lost six pound," Stephanie rebutted. "Four more to go."
"Thank you."
Stephanie's head ducted as she smiled. Dipping another carrot, she offered it to the dog and made a face as crumbs fell from Lucy's mouth onto Hunter's forearm.
"She's disgusting."
But there was affection in Stephanie's voice and Hunter couldn't stop looking at her.
"You two do this a lot?"
"Just sometimes."
Smiling, Hunter gently lowered Lucy to the floor and brushed himself off. Stephanie put away the snacks, expecting him to leave.
When he didn't, she finally looked up to his face. Hunter did his best to not look too pathetic as he stepped towards her and took a gentle hold of her hips. His anxiety heightened as her lips parted in surprise. His intent was clear.
His eyelids grew heavy as he lowered his face to hers. She stood frozen, but her own eyes fluttered shut when his lips grazed her own.
It was like an electric shock. He pressed his mouth to hers for less than a second, then they both pulled back an inch. Big, blue puppy dog eyes stared up at him. Hunter couldn't help himself. His hands left her waist to frame her face, and then he was kissing her. Properly.
For a few glorious moments, they stood wrapped in a tender embrace.
He heard knocking on the front door, but it was distant. The sound was a subtle repeating boom in the back of his mind. When it grew louder, Lucy began to bark. He ignored everything. Her face in his hands was so soft, her lips, even softer. Why had he waited so long?
His hands left her face to pull her closer. Her arms encircled his neck. Lucy was still losing it beneath them. His personal trainer was still knocking on the front door. He didn't care.
Hunter's indifference ended when his wife broke their kiss.
"Your trainer," she whispered.
"I don't care."
His mouth descended onto hers immediately afterwards.
"Your leg," she murmured against his lips.
"It's fine."
Her hands moved to his chest so she could gently push him away.
"You don't mean that, Hunter. You have to train."
He looked to her in disbelief. How could she think logically right now? All he wanted was to be with her. For the first time… in months.
But Stephanie was serious. She couldn't have him blaming her for a setback, no matter how wonderful it felt to be back in his arms. Walking away from his irritated face, she answered the door to greet his trainer.
Afterwards, all Hunter could do was internally reprimand himself. She didn't want him anymore. He had to face the facts. By the end of the day, he half-regretted kissing her. Slumping into his favorite armchair in their second floor living room, he huffed. She was moving around somewhere in the house. Ignoring the nagging voice in his head telling him to go find her, he opened a book.
She joined him shortly afterwards. He heard her bare feet pitter-patter down the hallway until she stopped in the doorway of their sitting room. He heard it all but didn't acknowledge her. He was too stubborn. Even when she entered the room and shuffled close to him, he stayed buried in his book.
Until her warm fingers skimmed the back of his hand that lay on the arm rest. Then he looked up and audibly gasped.
She was nude. Fresh from the shower, she stood before him naked, damp, and flushed. Hunter was robbed of breath and lost his grip on the book he had been reading. It fell to the floor with a heavy clunk.
"I'm going to bed," she said softly.
Hunter closed his mouth and fought the urge to grab her. She looked nervous despite her lack of clothing. Carefully reaching out to take hold of her hips, he guided her onto his lap. Eyes still wide, he searched her face. She straddled him, but her line of vision was just above his eyes. He pulled her closer, and was instantly annoyed with the t-shirt he wore. He promptly ripped the fabric from his body and tossed it to the floor. When their chests pressed together, skin to skin, he sighed.
Her hands skimmed his trapezius. His rehabilitation had him bigger than ever. He hoped she liked it. She was thinner. Not that it mattered. She was so beautiful. But he could feel her anxiety and it seeped into his mind like poison.
He stared at her face, practically begging her to say something. But her eyes followed her hands and continued to trace the lines of his muscles. Swallowing his nerves, he dipped his mouth to her neck. She shivered. He felt her skin shake beneath his grip and knew he'd done the right thing. Kissing her neck, he got to feel her warm breath quicken against his ear until he trailed his mouth up to hers.
On and on, they kissed, gasping for air before entangling their tongues and starting to grind against each other. Hunter had to refrain from pulling her down harder against his crotch. He was worried he'd finish in his pajama pants.
Sensing his discomfort, she withdrew from his lap. Pulling him with her, their lips never parted. It was a slow shuffle down the hallway to the master bedroom. Hunter used the opportunity to caress every inch of her that he could reach. When they arrived at the foot of their bed, Stephanie's fingers dipped into his pants. His jaw dropped at the sensation. She moved her lips to his earlobe and tugged, effectively paralyzing him. He was embarrassingly close.
"Steph," he whispered.
She released him. Pushing his pants to the floor, he gently lay her onto her back, and climbed on top of her. Their mouths met again as her legs hooked around his hips. Pulling back, he looked down into her eyes and gulped. There was still a storm in her gaze, and he wanted nothing more than to calm it.
Gruffly, he said, "I love you."
Stephane's mouth opened in surprise. Her breath hitched. Her eyes heavily blinked. She usually looked this way after climaxing. Hunter felt his affection for her explode within his chest. He bent down to kiss her and then enter. They hardly lasted five minutes, but it was the best five minutes either of them could remember.
Later that evening, in the middle of the night, they still clung together. Stephanie whispered into his ear after their second round.
"I love you so much, Hunter. It makes me sick when we don't get along."
He stroked the side of her face with his thumb, and nodded.
"Me too, baby. I'm sorry."
He sat on top of his made bed, elbows resting on his knees and hands interlocked. He stared absently at the floor. He'd done so much wrong, wasted so much time. He couldn't think of anything he wouldn't give to go back. To wake up from his surgery and re-do it all.
He untied his shoes, unbuckled his jeans, and stood to step out of both. Then he pulled his shirt over his head and pulled the tight elastic from his hair. Running his hands through his blonde locks, a gleam from his championship belt caught his eye. It rested on a lounge chair in the corner. He turned away from it.
In fact, Hunter didn't look at the title again for the remainder of the holiday weekend. That night, he crawled beneath the covers, pulled the sheets and comforter up to his neck, and did his best to sleep. It was not without difficulty. His arms felt empty.