Chapter Twenty-Two

Celeste's ears perked up when she heard the key card slide into the door of the hotel room they were sharing. Her eyes shifted from her issue of Cosmo with Angelina Jolie on the cover when she saw Mark walk in. He was stitched up and battered, walking with a very visible limp. It had been a violent match between him and Brock; Celeste knew he was going to be feeling the injuries for days. Putting the magazine down on the bed, she rushed to Mark and hugged him. He groaned at the initial contact, but hugged her back anyway.

"Jesus, I've been so worried! Are you okay?" His clothing was still covered in blood that had dried, but at least he had washed it off his face. Hell In A Cell is never easy to bounce back from, he had told her. She was inclined to agree after surveying the damage. He ignored her concern.

"I heard an interesting story from Stratus earlier…"

"Is she all right?"

"Feeling rough, but she'll make it. She's a fighter. How's the haymaker?"

"Fine, believe it or not. I sent him down to the floor, though I think the shot to his groin did that more than anything else." Mark noticed the redness on her ear and touched the swollen lobe. He could feel the indents. She winced, a stain of embarrassment blushing her cheeks.

"The fuck is this?"

"He, uh…well, he kind of…well, he bit me."

"He bit you?"

"Yeah."

"Does it hurt?"

"A touch, but I took some Tylenol. Don't worry about me, though. Go get yourself cleaned up." Mark nodded; his every muscle ached and there was still some blood. He didn't bother showering at the arena after what Trish had told him. Mark had just wanted to get back to Celeste and make sure she was all right. Mark disappeared into the bathroom and in minutes Celeste could hear the water running. She bit back a giggle as she heard a loud, pleasurable groan from the hot water hitting his aching skin.

The contact of the hot water to his sore muscles felt incredible. He was hurting, and he would be for a few days, but Mark knew that Brock was hurting just as much. Even if he lost out on winning the WWE Championship, Mark knew that Brock was limping to bed tonight as well, and he would be doing it without Celeste. These thoughts alone were enough to let Mark sleep peacefully tonight.

When Mark emerged from the shower, changed into black drawstring pants and a white muscle shirt, he found Celeste sitting on the bed, dressed in a white cotton nightgown, her hair back in a low ponytail. He smiled; even if she were to greet him in a potato sack, he was pretty sure it would be the most beautiful outfit on her. She had gone back to reading her magazine.

He sat down beside her on the bed. "What are you reading?"

"Cosmo?" He grimaced; his ex-wife had sworn by that shit.

"You read this shit?"

"Guilty pleasure." They were encased in silence. Celeste felt a little awkward, but she kept to reading her magazine, turning the pages slowly. Mark cleared his throat.

"I, uh…I think I need to talk to you about Traci…"

"No. You don't."

"I don't?"

"You don't owe me any explanation. It's not like I'm your girlfriend or anything." Mark smirked. She never looked up from her magazine, so he questioned her sincerity. Or was it jealousy? What she said next had the ability to put a harpoon through his heart. "I'm thinking of heading back to Minneapolis next week."

"You're going home?"

"I probably should. It's time I start getting my stuff out of Brock's house."

"Where are you going to stay?"

"I can stay with Elise for a while. Worst case scenario, Jacob will take me. I've imposed on you for long enough." Mark dismissed her words with a wave of his hand. Now she looked at him. There definitely was something different in her eyes, and he was pretty sure it had to do with Brock digging up Traci from his past.

"You haven't imposed on me, Celeste. In fact, I've loved having you around."

"Mark, how do you expect to live your life like a normal human being when you're constantly dealing with a basket case like me?" Mark snorted.

"You are not a basket case."

"Mark, you deserve normality. You deserve a good girlfriend. These are things that don't seem to come with this package." Mark scoffed.

"Maybe I don't want to find anybody else. Maybe I just want you." Celeste laughed.

"You don't mean that."

"I do mean that. Celeste, I want to be with you."

"How do you know that this just isn't a case of being attracted to what you've saved? It's not healthy, Mark." Mark sighed; she was right about that. But she wasn't at the same time.

"I know that's not true. What do I need to do to prove it?"

"Just let me go home for now. Time to give us some space. If you still want me in, say, a month or two, then come and get me. But I want you to be sure. Not because you've put your life on hold to save me from my troubles."

Mark sighed. He wasn't sure if it was possible, but he felt even more defeated than he had an hour before.