Rising from the ashes...it's just me. Sorry about the fake out last week. I deleted the author's note chapter and didn't realize it would tell people the story updated. This chapter is brought to you by 2 weeks of Muse's "Madness" on repeat. That song got me in the perfect mindset for this chapter. It's sort of become my anthem for these two. Give it a listen. I hope the chapter feels worth the wait.

My face wrinkled in disgust the moment my eyes locked with his. I stepped back and closed the door as quickly as I could. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed that he didn't try to put his hand out to catch the door. I would have reveled in his scream of agony when I broke his fucking hand.

"Yeah, that's pretty much what I expected. I deserve that. I came here to talk, Lana."

"Go fuck yourself, Jon!"

"Expected that, too. Look, how about I give you some time to cool off and then we can talk, okay?"

"How about I give you the rest of your life to go fuck yourself and then I never have to hear your voice again?"

"I'm serious. This is important."

I stared at the door, silently grimacing.

"Now you're ignoring me. Fine, but I'm not leaving until you let me in so we can talk and get this over with."

I smirked. Those are famous last words before someone gets hungry, gives up, and leaves.

"Fine then, we'll see how long you last with that!" I yelled at the door.

No response.

Good. Fine. That's what I wanted. I checked the clock and it had just turned ten. Still no sign of Dave. I took out my phone and shot him a text.

Hey, just meet me at the restaurant. Looks like you're running a bit late, so I'm going to head over.

Throwing my bag over my shoulder, I reached for the doorknob before I stopped myself. Fuck. How was I going to leave? I didn't dare open the door and risk him trying to come in, or worse, trying to grab me as I walked by. I paced around for a moment before heading toward the window. If that asshole could get in through it, then I could get out.

As I lifted it open and climbed outside, I immediately had second thoughts. Fire escapes certainly aren't made for regular use. Still, the rickety metal sure beat dealing with the giant rodent outside my door. Once I made it down to the ground safely, I headed straight for Betsy's. It was already busy at the popular breakfast and brunch spot, but it didn't look like there was a wait. I popped my head in and did a quick scan for Dave. No luck.

I went back outside and paced up and down the sidewalk. What could be taking him so long? This had been his idea in the first place. I took my phone back out and checked to see if he'd texted me back. Nothing. Sighing, I sent another text letting him know I was inside waiting.

I went back inside and approached the bar. I smiled at the bartender as I slid onto a stool and ordered a mimosa. She slid me that sparkling orange deliciousness and I slid her a ten. I checked the clock at the front of the restaurant. Ten twenty. The day had barely began and it was already not going how I'd imagined it would. I just wanted to go back to sleep and hope that it'd be a different day when I awoke.

I rubbed my temples with my hands and let out an exasperated groan.

"What's going on, sugar?" the bartender asked.

"Ahh, I guess it could be summed up with 'dude problems'. Both of them are giving me a headache."

"Juggling two men at once, huh? Sounds stressful."

"No, I'm not with either of them. I mean I was sleeping with both of them, but that was..." I paused, realizing this wasn't what I wanted to talk about right now. "They are just two very frustrating people in my life at the moment. So this mimosa is helping more than it probably should."

She nodded back at me and gave me a small smile before turning around to prepare more drinks. I sat in silence, sipping my brunch booze and trying to not think about how I was stood up by one guy and couldn't get rid of the other. The sound of the straw struggling to suck up those last drops of orange juice and champagne brought my back to the present. I put two extra dollars under the empty glass and headed back outside.

Ten forty, my phone said. Still no word from Dave. Seriously, what the fuck. He's never been flakey like this before. I decided to finally call his phone directly. Maybe that would get him to answer me.

"Hello?" A woman's voice greeted me from the other side.

I was stunned into silence, only finally answering when she repeated herself.

"Uh...hi? Can I speak to Dave please?"

"He's still sleeping at the moment. Who is this?"

Who the hell was she? I so badly wanted to throw the question back at her, but I knew that wouldn't help matters right now. "This is Lana...his friend…coworker… Uh, just tell him to call me when he gets a chance, please." I hung up quickly, afraid I'd snap if I stayed on the line any longer.

I sighed again. I was still hungry, but didn't feel like going to brunch alone. I could make my own breakfast, but I didn't want to risk seeing the beast outside my door. I decided to go for a long walk to kill time, assuming that Jon would eventually give up and go away. Probably to fuck some woman he just met. I walked for about an hour. It helped distract me from my hunger, and eventually the rumbles in my stomach passed.

My feet were pretty sore by the time I looped back around to my neighborhood. I decided to stop at the grocery store to pick up some things, namely bacon and eggs. It was time to have a brunch of my own.

As I turned the corner on my floor, I nearly dropped the bag of food out surprise. Jon was still there, sitting against the wall by my door, and sleeping. I snuck past him, quietly unlocking my door and slipping inside without waking him. What was he still doing here? Did he have nothing better to do? Nah, I knew the answer. He's as stubborn as I am. He'd never be able to outlast me, though. He'd have to leave by tonight or early tomorrow morning to make it to Raw. It seemed odd that he didn't have to work a house show tonight, but he probably just wasn't booked this time.

The scent of the breakfast cooking calmed my nerves. I was still pissed that Dave had stood me up, and I still hadn't heard from him. He'd be getting an earful from me at work tomorrow. I leaned against the counter and quickly scarfed down the food. The taste of fluffy scrambled eggs and apple-smoked bacon made me feel like a person again.

When I left the kitchen after washing my dishes, something by the door to the hall caught my eye. I bent down and picked up a bar napkin with something written messily on the front.

Torturing me with the smell of bacon, Lana? Mean.

I snorted and the corners of my mouth rose a little bit. Frustrated by my reaction, I rolled my eyes, crumpled the napkin, and threw it in the trash. It made me feel uncomfortable that he could still make me laugh even while he pissed me off.

I started off my Monday shift in a sour mood. When I had left my apartment at 2pm, I found Jon staring up at me from his spot on the floor. His hair was more disheveled than usual, which said a lot. He was still wearing the same clothes from the day before. I looked down at him, sour with pursed lips. He looked up at me with a charming smile. Fuck him. So I was already salty to begin with when Dave showed up.

"Hey El," he greeted me as he came behind the bar.

"Don't you 'hey El' me, David!" I whipped a dishtowel at him. He let it land on his face.

"I know I was a shitty friend yesterday," he said as he pulled the towel off and started cleaning with it.

"Yeah, what the hell was that all about? You could've called me to cancel or at least answer your own phone. So who's your new secretary?"

He shook his head at me. "Stop acting crazy."

"I'm not acting crazy. You stop being secretive."

"Alright, here's what happened. That woman who answered my phone is one of my neighbors. If you remember when we went out to karaoke that time when we slayed the Thong Song together, she was one of the girls who I was hanging out with us. Her name is Melody. Anyway, when I got home Saturday night, she was sitting in the hallway messing around on her phone. I asked her why she was sitting outside her apartment so late. She said she had been sexiled by her roommate at the last minute and she hadn't been able to make arrangements for a place to sleep, so she was looking at hotel rates on her phone. I offered for her to sleep on my couch and she accepted."

"Okay that's all well and good, but how would that cause you to oversleep and leave me hanging?"

"Well, that's because I didn't get to sleep till five-ish…" He smiled and bit his lip, just like he used to after we'd...

"You guys had sex?!"

I know it wasn't logical, and who he had sex with wasn't my business, but my stomach dropped when he nodded. I forced myself to smile for him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't plan it or anything. I'd always thought she was hot and apparently she felt the same about me, and the opportunity arose, so to speak."

"Dick jokes, Dave? Seriously?" I sighed and rubbed my forehead. "I waited for almost an hour at the restaurant, left a message with her and never heard back from you.

"Really, I'm sorry Lana. Consider us even? In regards to how I was pissed at you for having angry sex in the bathroom of our workplace and how you were pissed that I stood you up because I was sleeping after having not-angry sex?"

"Fine, we're even," I grumbled. Dave lifted his arms and came in for a hug. "I'm sorry I'm so cranky. I've just been on edge since yesterday morning."

"I'm sorry my lack of penile control got you that upset."

"No, no, that's not really it. Jon showed up at my door yesterday morning."

"What?"

"Yeah, I thought he was you coming to get me for brunch. He said he wanted to talk, but I didn't let him in. I thought he'd go away on his own, but just now when I came down for work, he was still there. He gave me this smugly charming smile when he looked at me, like he knew he was going to win. Fucking pissed me off."

"Do you think he wants to talk about his betrayal of your trust? Do you think he wants to get back together with you?"

"Probably? I don't know. That or he thinks I'll just bend over against a wall or hop up onto a sink for him again. Whatever, it doesn't matter either way. I'm done with him." I mimed washing my hands and shaking them dry.

"No you're not."

My brow furrowed at his comment. "Why would you say that?"

"Because you still love him, El. It's rare to get over someone immediately, even if they hurt you. …And what he did was a fucking doozy. If you didn't still love him, I don't think you would be so pissed right now. You wouldn't care that he was sitting outside your door, or you would call the police and report that there was a suspicious man loitering in your apartment. But no, you haven't done anything to actually remove him, and you clearly care. Three weeks ago, you had sex with him, even though you had sobbed to me about how he broke your heart. I can tell you it wasn't because it was just 'revenge sex' because you were the only one who looked hurt afterward. It was because you were still in love with him, angry as he made you, and you're still in love with him now. I've accepted it, why can't you?"

The two of us stared at each other for a moment, only breaking when the door opened and some customers entered.

"Let's just drop this and work out shift, okay?" I asked.

"Fine. Just promise me this, El. If the guy is still sitting outside your door at the end of the week..."

"Oh God…" I covered my face with my hands.

"...just let him say his piece. He'll have earned it at that point."

He was still outside my door when I left for work and when I returned on Tuesday. I assume that he must have been using the bar bathroom and eating at one of the small cafes a couple buildings down. He was still wearing the same clothes that he had shown up in on Sunday. He looked scuzzier than usual.

When I left for work on Wednesday, there he was, yet again. I didn't really even feel angry about it anymore. Like after four days, I was just used to it. Like I had accepted that he was just going to live outside my apartment forever.

I worked a two to ten shift that afternoon and had just clocked out for the night. As I was heading up the stairs, I happened to pass by the landlady of the apartment complex, Mrs. Dalton. She was a prim sort of woman in her mid-fifties and she usually didn't cause me any issue.

"Oh, Miss Lana, I was just going down to the bar to speak with you."

"Really? I just got off my shift. What can I do for you, Mrs. Dalton?" I asked.

"It's about that boyfriend of yours who's been sitting outside for your apartment for days."

"Oh, no ma'am, we're not-" I tried to interject, but she wasn't paying attention.

"He's been making the other tenants uncomfortable. I don't know what sort of weird sex game you two are playing, but it needs to stop. It's not polite to shove your 'alternative lifestyle'," she emphasized with air quotes, "in the faces of your normal neighbors."

I had to use all of my mental energy to hold my tongue and just smile and nod at her. "You're so right, ma'am. I apologize to you and my neighbors. I'll get right on that."

She patted me on the shoulder and headed back up the stairs. I smacked my hand on the wall and let out an agitated growl. I was forced to do what I didn't want to. I was forced to let him in. He was going to win. I sighed and turned around going back out the stairs and out the side entrance to the building.

I walked two blocks away to a sandwich shop called Heroes of Hunger that was always open till midnight. I ordered a large steak sub and a bottled water, and thought about how I was going to approach this while I ate. I really didn't want to deal with him right now. When I felt full, I wrapped up the remainder and went back home.

He was slumped slightly to the side when I reached my floor. His eyes were closed and his mouth with slightly ajar. He couldn't be comfortable sleeping like that. I approached my door and the sound of my footsteps jolted him awake. He rubbed his eyes and swept his hands over his head to get some loose strands of hair off his face before he looked up at me. I tossed the bag at his chest and went to unlock my door.

"Thanks," he said as he looked inside the bag.

I didn't answer, only opened the door and stepped inside. I waited for a moment in the doorway, but he didn't move.

"Well? Are you coming in or what?" I asked.

"Oh," I heard him mumble as he stood up. Watching the way he moved, I could tell that he really had spent most of the past four days sitting in the hallway.

He followed me inside and closed the door. I put my purse down on a chair, but then thought otherwise and picked it back up.

"You smell terrible. I'm going to assume that you haven't changed your clothes or showered since Sunday?"

He already had a mouthful of sub, so he just nodded.

I sighed at the hassle. "Fantastic. Alright, whatever, there's a thrift store down the street that is open surprisingly late. Stay here and finish the sub then take a damn shower, and I'll run down there are get you some clean clothes. It's like I'm your fucking mom or something."

I grabbed the keys just in case he was going to try to lock me out, and I walked toward the door. "And I swear, Jon, if you fuck up anything in my apartment, I will murder you and happily go to prison for it."

I felt like an idiot paying for clothes for him. Sure they were used, cost five dollars total, and the money went to a local charity, but still. This was doing something nice for him. I could've made him stay in his smelly clothes. Then again, I guess that would've been a loss for me, too, and I'd really rather not smell him. While I walked back home, I kept thinking about how I really didn't want to do this. Just let him mumble for ten minutes and then you can be rid of him for good, I thought. Still, I think I had a bad feeling about this because being around him causes me to make stupid decisions.

I unlocked the door again and held my breath when I saw him standing in the living room, putting his dirty clothes into a plastic bag, and only wearing one of my towels around his waist. I closed the door behind me and he looked up at me when he heard the click. His eyes peeked through those wet curls and he smiled. I felt weak, mentally and physically. This already wasn't going well.

"Here," I said, throwing the bag at him. "It's just a black t-shirt with a bald eagle playing an electric guitar on it and some jeans with a couple small holes in the leg. There's also a pair of thin cotton shorts I figured you could use as boxers or something."

"Thanks."

"No problem," I muttered while I put my purse down.

I sighed and poured myself a glass of wine to help with whatever he was going to say. Either I'd drink it and feel better, or I'd throw it in his face and feel even better. I sat down in the middle of my couch and took off my shoes while he went to change in the bathroom. Just 10 minutes, Lana, and he'll be gone and you can go to sleep.

He came out dressed and tried to sit down next to me.

"I don't remember telling you that you could sit. I let you into my apartment so you could get whatever it is off your chest, and really only because my landlady says you're freaking out my neighbors. So spill and get out."

"Fine then. I need to apologize to you for breaking the terms of our relationship, and for being a drunken asshole and intentionally provoking you in your bar...and then yelling outside your apartment...and then trying to climb in your apartment. Fuck, it sounds even worse when I say it out loud."

"Yeah, no shit. Apology not accepted, now get the fuck out of my apartment."

"I'm not done, and I'm not leaving until I'm done. I promise I'll leave immediately after if you promise to keep your mouth shut until I'm finished. Deal?"

I opened up my mouth to protest and he put his hand up to stop me.

"Do we have a fucking deal?"

"Fine," I muttered before gulping down my entire glass of wine. I put the empty glass on the floor and leaned back on the couch, crossing my arms.

"When we first started banging, I told you I 'didn't do relationships', right? Well, that wasn't always true, obviously. When I was in high school, I wasn't really popular with girls. None of them really wanted to hook up with the poor wrestling nerd, you know? That was until I met this chick named Becky when I was, like sixteen. I fell hard for her. She took my virginity in pretty much everything. She was amazing…she had a rack like…"

I reached down to grab the wine glass so I could throw it at him and he stopped mid-sentence. This was not off to a good start.

"…it's not important. Things were great for like four months, until I found out she'd started seeing this guy on the basketball team. She dumped me and a few days later, and then the bastard she cheated on me with dropped Polaroids of her sucking his dick into my locker, just to throw it in my face. That's when I decided that women were only good for one thing. My heart had felt like it'd been ripped out, and I vowed to never let myself be that vulnerable again.

"Once I started wrestling training, it was really easy to get with women just to fuck. Even at the scummiest Indy shows, there are chicks there who are willing to fuck any of the wrestlers, from the youngest rookie, to the most scarred up old vet. So, like, my plan worked for a few years, but eventually I started meeting some women I liked spending time with, as friends I mean. I dropped some of that old animosity and realized that not all women were lying whores like Becky."

He cleared his throat and took a breath when he realized he was getting agitated, and getting in his own way.

"So that's how my whole 'regulars' thing started. Friends with benefits from various cities I worked in several times a year. If any of them ever told me that they wanted a deeper commitment, I'd shut it down. I just wanted great sex with chicks I'd never see again or with women I thought were cool. That is, until I met you.

"I'd never been asked to bang someone by their male friend, so that was new, and after seeing how pissed you were that night, I craved the challenge. It'd become so damn easy to get a woman into bed at that point., you know? Anyway, you know how it went from there. The open relationship idea should have been a warning sign. I proposed it because I wanted to hang out with you more…and have more sex with you…but I didn't do relationships. That's what I promised myself for so long, but there I was, doing one. But I think by encouraging you to sleep with other people and by being able to continue banging other women myself, it didn't seem real to me. It wasn't a real relationship in my head. But with each visit, I started feeling weird. I started feeling what I had felt when I was with Becky years ago. I first really noticed it when I reacted so strongly after watching that douche yank off the necklace I gave you."

He started pacing back and forth, clenching and releasing his fist. I rolled my eyes.

"Then I felt kinda jealous when I watched you having sex with Dave. Not so much because the two of you were fucking, but more because of the way you interacted with each other. But afterward when I was making you coffee, I thought about how happy you'd looked and that you feeling good was way more important to me. That's when I finally realized I loved you. Later that afternoon when we woke up, I almost told you that, too.

"But something stopped me, and I asked you to make pancakes instead. That voice of my teenage self who had his heart stomped. The younger version of me who said that relationships were bullshit and women were only good for sex. I was reminded of how it fucking sucks to feel vulnerable. I told myself that this was all a big mistake. I needed to be in control again, and I thought pushing you away would do that. That chick you found me with wasn't the first one I'd fucked without telling you, either. When we were on tour in Europe, I…uh…took a tour of my own. I thought it would make me feel in control of myself again. I didn't expect you to show up that night, but I was glad you did. It was easier to get you to leave me."

My body felt tense all around. My ears felt hot. It took all of my effort to stay seated and let him finish his damn speech.

"After that I went back to who I was before I met you. I kept telling myself it was why I wanted, reminding myself about all the fun I'd had over the years. It worked to distract me for a moment, but whenever I was alone, I still thought of you…and it pissed me off. So when we ended up showing up that night, I was frustrated and honestly, nervous. I prayed you wouldn't be working that night, but there you were. So I took out my frustration on you. I provoked you, tried to push you…I knew exactly how to push your buttons. I thought it would make you storm out. I never thought you'd try calming yourself down in the bathroom. And my dumbass brain thought it was a good idea to follow you in, like that would send you over the edge and you'd clock out early. Course it turned out it sent you over the edge in a different way," he mumbled.

I glanced at the floor, unable to look at him. I still hated myself for giving it up to him that night…and for having enjoyed it.

"The part of me that loves a challenge came out to gloat after that. Like I was so good that I could get you to come even when you wanted to gouge my eyes out. But after you left, I felt shitty, so I drank...a lot. I'm surprised that Seth or Roman didn't try to stop me. Or that Dave didn't cut me off. They didn't know, by the way. Seth and Roman. They didn't know I'd been fucking other women without telling you first. Anyway, I don't remember much once I left the bar, but I do remember walking outside and yelling at your window. Seth filled me in on the rest after he got me back to the hotel. I don't know what happened between you and Roman either, but that motherfucker is terrifying when he's serious. Once I'd sobered up some, he let me have it. We had a long talk. He gave me some stuff to think about...about how I'm not the same person now that I was ten plus years ago. About how I based my entire opinion of women on one shitty experience. About how I was fucking up something good, something that made me happy. Then he told me I don't deserve you, and he left me alone with one of the biggest hangovers of my life.

"So I thought a lot over the last few weeks, about the stuff he said. Everything always came back to you. I don't like to be vulnerable with my feelings and whatever, I like to keep that stuff to myself, but I needed to come here and apologize for all the shit I've put you through and tell you that even though you don't want me in your life anymore, you've helped make me a better man in the end, and I'll always love you for that. I fucking love you, Lana. Thanks for the sub and the clothes. See ya."

He picked up his bag of clothes and started for the door. My heart was pounding in my chest. It felt like there was electricity in my veins.

I smacked my hand down on the arm of the couch. "No."

He stopped and stood still for a moment. My fists clenched tightly as I stood up, blood boiling.

"How stupid do you think I am?" I asked quietly, approaching him slowly. "How dare you come back into my life to tell me some grade A bullshit like that. You love me? What kind of sadistic fuck are you?"

I slammed my fist down onto his back. "You don't fucking hurt the people you love!"

Another fist to his back. He turned around to face me and got a third fist on his chest.

"Why would you purposely cheat if you loved me?! Why would you try to hurt me if you loved me?!" I punctuated every few words with my fist. "Why would you continue to hurt me after I told you I loved you? Why would you keep coming back to torment me? How could I still love you? Why do I still love you? Why…?"

I kept pounding my fists against him as he put his arms around me and pulled my body close to his. Tears welled up in my eyes, try as I did to hold them back. I gave in and buried my face in his warm chest.

"Why does Dave always have to be right?" I muttered into his shirt. "He said I still loved you, and he's right. I'm such a fucking idiot."

He pulled back slightly and smiled at me. "Maybe, but I'm a fucking dumbass who just so happen to love a fucking idiot, so I think it's going to be okay." He lifted my chin up with his hand. "I love you, Lana. It took me a long time and a lot of fuck-ups to get there, but I love you."

His eyes looked so bright. I stared into them, trying to find the lie, the trick. Searching for something to tell me not to make this mistake again, not to let him in. I couldn't find it. I saw vulnerability and genuine feeling.

"I love you, too, Jon."

He stroked my cheek with his hand and leaned down to kiss me, his lips soft and warm. I let myself go, my head finally surrendering to my heart, and I felt loved again.