Chapter Eight

Something's Gotta Give

Mike and Alex were sitting in the rafters, staring down at the tech crew putting together the show for the evening. Raw was airing live from Houston, Texas, the birthplace of many great WWE stars, including Stone Cold Steve Austin. Sitting on the other side of Mike was Eve and John Cena, the three of them staging a mock intervention about the direction Mike's personal life was heading in. Maryse was running wild backstage with Brie, Nikki and Melina, giving everyone the perfect opportunity to talk to him.

"Mike, we're not saying that you need to dump her. But the way things are going right isn't good for either of you. Mike...she knew you had a concussion, and she still threw something at your head," Eve reminded him, shaking her head. "Sure, she grazed your ear, but you and I both know that it could have been a lot worse if she'd hit the target she intended."

"I know," Mike agreed with a sigh. There was nothing that he could say that was going to excuse Maryse's behavior. Not that he wanted to justify or excuse it; with every day that passed, she seemed to get more and more out of line. Buying her diamonds and jewelry and lingerie...he was telling her it was okay. He only wanted someone who was going to love him unconditionally, and not be jealous while he was on the road working.

"She threw something at your head?" John asked. There was no hint of a joke in his voice, his tone was somber. Mike nodded, motioning to his ear.

"Yeah. It seems like we fight over everything and anything these days," Mike replied. "The sad part is I keep convincing myself that I can make this work. But I don't know..." He had come home after their fight, and she noticed he hadn't brought anything home with him. It had triggered another fight; despite all the things he bought her, she told him he never got her anything before leaving in a huff.

"We all can't tell you what you have to do," Alex told him, clapping a hand on Mike's shoulder. "But she's getting out of control, and one of these days, she's going to hurt you. The vase...that shit's inexcusable, Mike. We both know it." Mike looked at Eve and John before hanging his head, ashamed that these incidents were making their way to the ears of his colleagues. Mike sighed; he had a lot to think about.

Cristina's interview had gone extraordinarily well. Every quote seemed to find a place somewhere in every article she was working on, giving everything the perfect "oomph" that her writing needed. Her managing editor had been over the moon that she had put together everything, that the articles had been so thoroughly researched. He told her that her writing had gotten so much better before announcing that he was sending her to a Battle of the Bands show on Saturday night to cover the bands that were performing. All of her friends were going to be on the road that night, so she would have to go alone. Earlier in the day, Eve had messaged her, telling her that she would be by on Tuesday for "Girl's Night". She wanted to give Cristina a makeover.

It was a quiet Monday night for Cristina. She was sitting at her computer, brushing up on WWE history and watching old YouTube clips of Mike, Eve and Alex. Cristina was impressed by Eve's athleticism, especially the back flips and front flips. She watched old episodes of The Dirt Sheet, laughing at the antics of Mike and John Morrison. She was still having a hard time reconciling the Mike Mizanin she knew with the Miz she watched.

She was still thinking about their dinner together, about Mike's injuries and the claim that Maryse had thrown something at his head while he was hurt. What kind of a woman would do that? She had no idea why Mike would go out of his way to buy her diamonds and gifts when she would treat him so badly. Cristina couldn't begin to wrap her head around it. She watched some videos of Maryse and while she was willing to admit the woman was beautiful, she couldn't understand why Mike would stick around if she was going to treat him so badly.

After Raw, Maryse went out with Candice Michelle and the Bella twins to a Houston hotspot. The drinks were flowing freely and she had a good buzz going by the time she hit the dance floor. Under the lights, she swayed, moving her hips, her hands above her head. He slipped in behind her, wrapping his arm around her waist, pulling her close as she ground her hips against him. She leaned forward, doing her trademark hair flip, leaning back into the man's chest and staring into the face of Dolph Ziggler. She kept moving, smiling when she began to feel him reacting to her movements.

"Oh, mon...quelqu'un heureux," Maryse whispered, licking the outer shell of his ear. She grinned to herself when she heard Dolph groaned. His grip tightened on her.

"Maryse, you're killing me," he whispered. She kept moving. It was the kind of night she needed desperately. There was nothing like this with Mike anymore, no passion. Maryse asked him to come out with him, but he was still complaining about his head. He didn't want to be noticed; he wanted to keep a low profile. Maryse wanted to go out and party and live her life, and if Mike wasn't with her, she would find the party on her own.

She arched her head back and he kissed the crook between her shoulder and neck, letting his tongue run up to her ear. "We should go back to my room," he whispered in her ear. "What do you say to that?"

"Your car or mine?" she asked.

Back at his hotel room, Mike sat alone with a hot fudge sundae and old episodes of Family Guy. Maryse was angry that he didn't want to go out, but he still wasn't feeling quite right. He told himself he would be surprised if she came back to the hotel room after her night out; he assumed she would probably stay with the Bella twins or Melina.

He messaged Cristina a little. She told him about her upcoming assignment at a Battle of the Bands show on Saturday, and Mike couldn't help but feel a little jealous that he wasn't going to be there. He used to spend a lot of time in underground clubs in Parma, Ohio, watching those kinds of competitions growing up. Mike smiled as he read about her boss being happy with her article and her interview. It had been a few days, but he was still thinking about the dinner he had with her, Eve and Alex. It had been one of the most fun nights he'd ever had. He was a little jealous that he was missing out on such good food. Maryse never cooked. They were about going to trendy restaurants and being seen. He cooked from time to time, but he still cooked like an eighteen year-old bachelor, throwing everything he could think of into a pot and hoping it worked.

Mike thought about the mock intervention that had been held in his honor earlier in the night. He thought it was a bit much, but it was apparent the turbulence in his personal life was becoming public knowledge. It was embarrassing. Things had deteriorated with Maryse so quickly that he couldn't pinpoint where things had gone wrong. Short of breaking up with her, Mike had no real idea how to fix things. He was beginning to think that their relationship was beyond saving.

Eve tossed and turned in her hotel bed. Across the room, her friend Natalie Neidhart slept, her cat Gizmo sleeping at her feet. With a deep sigh, Eve rolled onto her back and stared up at the dark ceiling. She was pretty certain that she was once again going to have to get her sleep on the road.

With every day that passed, Eve was becoming convinced that Mike was never going to untangle himself from Maryse, and the knowledge of that made her heart sink. She treated him so badly, but he was never going to leave. He seemed intent on staying miserable, all because his girlfriend was hot. It made her shake her head; how did the nice guys always end up with the worst women?

She thought about Cristina, who had shown more concern and care for Mike in a few weeks than Maryse had in their entire relationship. The fact that Cristina saw Mike as some kind of guardian angel made Eve smile. She wished Mike could find a sweet and caring woman, somebody like Cristina. Better yet, Eve would have loved to see the two get together...

Eve sighed, pushing the thought out of her head. There was chemistry between Mike and Cristina; everyone with a working set of eyes could see it. But she wasn't sure if it was going to happen, if Mike was every truly going to be rid of Maryse. Everyone deserved to be happy; she didn't understand why the miserable stayed when they could be happy.

Cristina lay in bed, watching the clock count down to daylight. She couldn't fall asleep; something in her bones told her that there was something wrong with somebody she knew. It was a strange feeling; she had called her family in Italy, and everybody was okay. She wondered if it was Mike, but he was messaging her like nothing was wrong. He mentioned nothing out of the ordinary. It was a strange feeling she had. It made her head swim with worry and her stomach feel heavy.

Turning on her side, she sighed at the empty side of the bed. She couldn't figure out why she had let the store talk her into a double bed when it was just her. But she had splurged, and now she was left with an empty bed, the other side usually cluttered with notebooks and pens. Sometimes the empty side reminded her that she was lonely.

She hadn't had a boyfriend since middle school. They had been intimate once, when she was sixteen and her mother was at work. Cristina thought it was nothing to write home about. It had been awkward, painful and the condom had gotten stuck. She had been so embarrassed; an act she tried to keep secret had been made public. Her mother had blown a gasket when she picked Cristina up from the hospital. Shortly after she broke up with her boyfriend, and she threw all of her energy into getting ready to move to America. Ten years later, Cristina found that she wished to have someone beside her while she was forging her own path. Sure, she felt urges from time to time, but she was too busy to really stop and think about things. Besides, if having a relationship was like what Mike was putting up with, she wasn't all that eager to sign up.

It took a coldhearted person to throw something at an injured man, spouse or not. Cristina wondered why Maryse couldn't look after Mike, get him the things he needed and the support he deserved. It seemed like common sense. She couldn't imagine being so cold towards another human being.

Realizing she wasn't going to fall asleep, Cristina sat up, turning on the bedside lamp and picking up her copy of The Dark Tower off the nightstand. Opening the book to the marker, she began to read, but her mind was in Houston with Mike.

Maryse thought Mike was asleep when she arrived back at their hotel room just after three in the morning. Her hair was mussed; she moved with the swagger of someone who had too much to drink. She was murmuring curse words under her breath in French as she put down the high heel shoes she held in her hands. Maryse knew she was going to feel the alcohol when she woke up, that she was going to feel the things she had done with Dolph for the rest of the day. Mike thought about opening his eyes and confronting her about where she had been, but he thought better of it, shutting his eyes and keeping them that way, no matter how loud she got when she stumbled into things.

He heard the flick of the light switch of the bathroom, followed by water hitting the bathtub. His eye peeked open; it was quarter past three. He shut his eyes again, listening to her shower in the other room. He wasn't going to acknowledge her or what she had done at this hour; he needed to sleep. He had to be up in two hours to make it to the next town. She was in the shower for almost twenty minutes before he heard the water shut off. He kept his eyes closed when she slid into bed beside him. She made no effort to make contact with him, to speak with him. He sighed and shook his head. Something had to give.