A/N: Originally, I was planning on re-writing every chapter until I was happy with them because, at the time I wrote this story, I was so oblivious to how much I suck at multi-chaps (and writing in general). But I'm kind of stuck with the plot and have no idea to how to fix it and conclude it. It's been what, almost two years? I'm so sorry. If you've kept tabs I'd like to thank you. And apologize. The characters have been so awfully-written and I've executed the conflict so poorly. I don't know whether I want to delete this fic or try and salvage it. Is there even a point to uploading this? I'm so very confused and so very remorseful. But hey, you got to start somewhere.
Pure Intentions
Chapter Twenty: Contemplation
She hadn't seen or spoken to Mathew in well over 5 years.
And given the fact that he had cheated on her with three different girls, including not one, but two of her bridesmaids, even before they could be married, she was okay with not seeing him again after that. Things had, unsurprisingly, ended rather badly. There were no attempted apologies or incensed confrontations – just a simple declaration that their engagement was indeed over. To her surprise, he wasn't very shocked that she had found out, unlike many other unfaithful husbands-to-be that probably wouldn't expect to be caught. Instead, he was just disappointed.
Why was he disappointed? She had most often figured that he had thought he'd get away with it until the actual marriage. But, he had said, tone feeble and resigned, that that wasn't it at all. He explained that he was disappointed because he failed himself...failed her, more importantly.
To this, she had scoffed. Over time she had begun to doubt his words more and more and when she reached that point, she couldn't believe she had stood to listen to them in the first place, let alone allowed them to charm her into an engagement – a relationship – she had initially had a lot of faith in.
Out of blinding fury after finding everything out, Chris had called her naive during a conversation over the phone. He happened to be touring across Europe when it occurred and, for Mathew, it turned out to be a good thing that he wasn't in the same country as him. He later apologized for it, citing that he had somehow wanted to blame her, though it was really all Mathew's fault. But she agreed with him. She was naive. But was there a difference between being in love and being foolish? Barely, she thinks.
Several seasons later, here he is, right before her. Like a ghost of the past lingering to an attachment of the living. If she wasn't so sure she wasn't dreaming, she'd have thought she was making up this in her head.
Unable to speak, her mind speaks for her, flooded with questions she can't answer. 'Why now?' is what she hears repeatedly. 'What is he doing here, specifically?' is the next most frequent. And coming up in third is the timid conspiracy that her talking to Shawn about him last night somehow summoned him.
'I said his name too many times,' she decides is what happened. 'Like Beetlejuice,' she then adds automatically, pausing before giggling a little. But reality steps in immediately when Mathew, taking her suddenly amused expression as a good sign, smiles a little too, like they're sharing an inside joke. "Vi," he says, eyes that always reminded her of a stormy sea bright with what appears to be honest pleasure. That, above everything else, serves as a dead-cold reminder of who he is.
She stops laughing and steps back, as if his mere presence has scalded her.
In hindsight, it kind of has.
"Mathew," she finally mutters, voice not as shaky as she thought it would be, but still noticeably strained. She can't look him in the eye. Not yet. But she's said something and it's enough.
"Hey." If he notices her actions, or is offended by them, he doesn't give any physical evidence to show it. He just remains still as she sways slightly from utter confusion and disbelief.
"I..." is all she can manage before she's shaking her head vehemently, realizing that she can't do this. It's too sudden and unexpected. Over the years they'd been broken up, she'd been building up pages and pages of words she was planning to say to him once she had the chance – if she ever got it. And now that she truly has said opportunity, she's seemingly forgotten it all.
"I have to go," is her excuse, rushed and maybe only a bit panicked. She doesn't wait for his response, but catches his face fall rapidly. She turns towards the elevators and for a minute she's afraid that he's going to grab her wrist and pull her back to him like he once had when he had lost his temper. But he doesn't. In fact, he doesn't move or say anything at all in objection to her leaving.
Unlike her decision 5 years ago, this time she does look back.
He's still there. But instead of looking at her with meaningless sorrow, his expression, for the first time, actually resembles something like genuine realization of what he's done and how sorry he might be because of that.
She presses for the doors to close and shuts her eyes as the elevator hums and gradually takes its ascent.
/
When Chris doesn't call or knock at her room door later that evening, she doesn't try to look for him. He doesn't know anything about why she decided to 'retire early' for the night and she doesn't think he needs to. She attempts to shrug it off. It wasn't a big deal that Mathew was there, and a part of her regrets her reaction. But she's never been good at dealing with the past and just because she has somewhat of a new life doesn't mean that that's abruptly changed along with it.
When she saw his eyes, she instantly thought of how they used to gaze lovingly at her. That, in turn, brought up the recollections of his lips against hers, his arms around her body, safe and warm. And with good memories come bad; for her, anyway.
Eyes soon turned distant, like every time he looked at her, he looked through her. Lips soon turned poisoned with lies. I'm going to be late for dinner, Vi. Work is demanding, you know. You understand, right? That's why I love you, babe. And his embrace...she didn't want to think of it...of how after he held her, he probably held some other woman like it meant nothing.
It all reminded her of how she wasn't enough for him, and that being one of her greatest insecurities, it suffocated her.
The odd thing is, being in an elevator alone, wasn't as fearful as being in a crowded room with him.
If she currently wasn't in a chokehold with unavoidable reminders of her history, she would've laughed at the paradox.
When Shawn calls at midnight, she ignores it and takes a shower, pretending the multiple rings are coming from the television set that isn't even on.
She slips into bed and doesn't sleep, lying wide awake for five hours straight, thinking repetitively about only one thing – not one person; it's not Mathew, astonishingly.
It's her life.
/
When Violet was only 4, and Chris was 17, there was an accident. No one ever explained to her exactly what had caused it (she believed it was faulty wires rather than a candle or cigarette gone awry), but as she watched the fire encase her home on a late September night, it didn't really occur to her that she had lost not only her beloved household, but her parents as well.
It didn't take long for that to sink in, though.
All her life she had been regarded with carefulness and pity, something she hated. It wasn't that it bothered her, per say, but what did bother her was that she thought it was better than having people pretend that nothing had happened. At least they were acknowledging it, she thought when her classmates and teachers looked at her in sympathy, but it still hurt sometimes.
People constantly had to watch what they said around her, not only for her sake, but for Chris's as well. In grade six, when one of her friends had mentioned a joke about an orphanage, Chris, who had been attending University at the time and afforded in a cheap one-bedroom apartment to live in with her, had given the girl a stern lecture that, if Violet wasn't mistaken, included a grumbled swear word or two.
That friend never visited her again for a while, and she didn't really blame her. Chris was terrifying when he was mad and their parents and references to them or the fire was always a very sensitive subject. Instead of anger, she dealt with the truth in tears, which, she admits shamefully, is why she prefers not to talk about it.
And while she could cry for hours, Chris could take it out on someone.
Throughout both high school and post-secondary, Chris had always had a problem for getting into fights. Whether it was because he was on the hockey team or because some guy looked at him funny, he was always looking for a reason to make his knuckles bleed. His temper had increased dramatically and little things no matter how insignificant they were, always found a way to piss him off.
It was during his junior year in University that he finally made fighting a hobby. The counsellor he had been seeing for the past two years (the school had recommended it and he had been considering a therapist for a while, too) suggested that he should channel his emotions in physical activity to prevent more violent outbreaks. And he, not being quite a fan of sports like basketball or volleyball, dove right into hockey and wrestling.
The latter almost immediately consumed him. He had always been a fan, watching the televised contests on TV every day they were on and attending the school's own competitions, but now that he himself was participating in the action, he grew to love it even more.
It was the restlessness, he once said, that drew him in, the consistency. How hardly anybody stopped moving for more than a minute. He enjoyed hockey, honestly he did, but he could hardly stand being benched for a period or taking the breaks between them. In wrestling you gave it your all for as long as you could, a battle between two constants, and in the end, the exhaustion always paid off.
He ended up placing high in a many provincial competitions and, hanging up his every medal, he always declared that he had finally found something he wanted to pursue for the rest of his life.
The travelling, which was only another source of the consistency he thrived on, had him chasing his dream. Quite literally.
And while Violet couldn't follow him, she did fine on her own as well for the time being. Unable to remain in Manitoba, she moved to Toronto with their aunt Susan. Someone Chris didn't necessarily get along with, purely because she treated him the way she had his father – with disdain. Never approving of her sister's husband, she only agreed to keep Violet because she, unlike Chris, resembled their mother, acted like her most often, too, and was too young to fend for herself.
So Chris left for tour with many minor league indie companies and Violet completed middle school and half of her high school grades in Toronto. After this long interval of time, Chris had returned with the news of higher prospects on the horizon, wanting to reunite with his sister and possibly take her with him when he explored these options.
But when he did arrive, he found out from his cousin – Susan's oldest daughter, Carolyn – that her mother had moved to New York and had taken Violet with her, with no intentions of ever telling him this.
When he finally located them in NYC, he was livid.
He asked if Violet wanted to come with him, which she did, and left with her to California, cutting ties with Susan completely.
Violet misses her often, but when she thinks about how she attempted to separate her and Chris for good, she thinks what he did was the right choice.
After this fiasco settled down, the two resided in Stanford. During their first year there, Chris made major appearances in higher-up wrestling companies and was eventually signed to the WWF – something that brought much-needed joy to their lives and gave them confidence that things were finally turning around. But with Violet turning eighteen and graduating high school while he was on the road, her consideration for post-secondary was growing.
It was a fast decision they made together. She was going back to Canada to attend the U of M in Winnipeg. It was also a hard one to make, but they affirmed that when she was done, she would rejoin him.
They went their separate ways for a second time, him visiting her when he could or when he was in Canada. But at the end of this time, more benefits were reaped. His career grew to fantastic levels and her education was furthered. They were finally able to reunite and that, above all, was what they had been waiting for most.
When she played it out in her head, it sounded almost like a fairytale. There were obstacles, clearly, and villains (evil aunts and jack-ass boyfriends, if you would), but there was also a happy ending. Well, as close to a happy ending you could get without the actual end. But, almost perversely, she wanted more. 'Is that selfish?' she asks herself, 'even if that "more" does more good for the people you love than you yourself, does it still make you selfish?'
Because sometimes she can't take that she adds more stress to Chris's life than he deserves. That she prevents Shawn from enjoying his career and spending time with his children. Hell, she still feels guilty that she led Evan on for as long as she did, and kissed someone else while they were dating, no less. He says he forgives her, he says it all the time, but there has always been a niggling thought at the back of her conscious that has asked, time and time again, 'if you had left, just left and not bothered as much lives as you do, where would those people be?'
More often than not, she answered with 'better off' because it was mostly true.
But if she left now, took off in the middle of the night back to Manitoba, how would that seem? Selfish is what she believes it would seem like. Because who is she to walk away from this life? She's blessed, extremely so, but what she wants everybody to understand is that by leaving, she'd have been doing something good for once in her life.
She's had many a conversation with Chris about this particular issue, but she still firmly thinks that she does more harm than good, while he argues that she doesn't, and she promised him she'd never leave.
And in the end, she doesn't want to disappoint anyone else – though it really seems like she is doing so even now, by not jumping a plane back to her home country. So, for Chris's sake, she stays.
For Shawn's, she texts him, knowing full well that he shuts off his phone during the night and feeling relieved that she probably won't be waking him from a good night's rest. She makes up a believable excuse as to why she never answered his call and sends it, adding an 'I love you' because unlike the previous message, this one isn't a lie.
She finally falls asleep with the thoughts of him in mind, thinking also of Canada, her aunt, and Mathew.
/
In the morning she goes through her normal routine – gets up, has a shower, gets dressed, and heads downstairs for breakfast. When she returns after consuming a simple bowl of Cheerios and orange juice, she turns on her cell phone to find that Shawn's texted back.
It's okay, I understand. :-) Love you too xo
It makes her smile, giddiness practically seeping out of her chest. Just then, a few more messages arrive; one from Chris, reading 'good morning lil sis!' with several happy emoticons and another from Evan reading 'Thnx for last night! Ellie's amazing!' followed by a parade of arrows and threes, which she takes to mean that they're now dating.
The sun pours in from the window and things are just as bright as the weather, as it happens.
The third is another from Shawn.
I have great news. Call me when you've got the time :-)
When she dials his number, she's so excited to hear from him again that she isn't aware that her heart's pounding until it echoes in the interludes of the ringing.
"Vi?" he sounds like he didn't expect her so soon, but delighted nonetheless. She presses a fist to her heart absently and grins like she's a lovesick teenager. "Shawn."
"I've got great news," he says, and he's most likely grinning, too. She can practically feel it; the happiness radiating from him.
"Yeah, I know, I got your text," she giggles. "What is this news?"
"Joint custody," he replies, suddenly breathless, like he's so happy he can't gasp in any air. But he takes a breath and continues. "For the most part, the kids are going to be living with their Mom. But, until I retire and can be with them full time, they get to visit during the weekends and holidays, including summer."
She knows this is a big deal for him, because he went to Atlanta with the worries that he wasn't going to lose custody of his children completely, due to the steady inconvenience of his profession. But it was better than he thought, because he still got to be with his son and daughter.
Honestly, the sheer joy in his voice was making her elated, too.
"The best part is that they're going to be living pretty close. Only a few hours' drive away from the house."
"That's amazing, Shawn," she says, regretting her thoughts last night. Because if hearing him this way makes her happy, seeing him this way would be too hard on her to leave in the first place. "I'm so glad."
"Me too," he says. Then adds: "I miss you a lot."
"I miss you too," Violet returns, "can't wait to see you again."
He makes a noise of assent and laughs. "I can't wait either. Do you know how it feels to sleep at night and not be cuddled to the point of near-strangulation?"
Violet giggles again, shaking her head in amusement. "I bet it feels horrible," she jokes, "waking up and your circulation is still flowing."
"Yes," he says, chuckling, "worst feeling in the world."
The couple laughs a little more before he asks her about the gala. She kind of verbally shrugs it off. "It was okay. I enjoyed myself, had fun, drunk a little champagne, did nothing too rowdy or mentionable."
"Did you dance?"
"Yes, I did," she smiles. "With Chris, Evan, Jay, and Ellie."
Instead of teasing jealous remarks, he questions "Ellie?"
"Long story short: she's the WWE make-up artist Chris sent to my door that I set Evan up with," she explains.
Shawn 'ooh's in interest. "And?" with a knowing voice she, a long time ago, used to confuse with superiority.
"They're dating, I'd say," she laughs, "he sent me a text that had so many hearts I thought I was talking to Chris about Iron Maiden."
Shawn bursts out laughing at that and right then it's decided – she's not going anywhere. Just because she ran into Mathew doesn't mean he has to mess up her life anymore by making her doubt it. She was just being dramatic, she concludes. So she doesn't tell Shawn about last night.
It's not important anyway.
/
Shawn's due to be back by tomorrow, and with them scheduled one more night in San Antonio, she decides to go out into the city on her own.
She borrows Chris's rental and just drives, undecided on where to go first. After a while of this aimless wandering, she ends up in a neat little ice cream shop downtown.
It's not really busy, there are only a few people occupying the booths and standing in line, but clearly is a favourite stop for people living around the area. She hears the servers call the customers by name, like they're close friends, and maybe they are – the atmosphere is friendly enough that when she orders her Cookies 'n Cream ice cream, she has a nice chat with one of the girls, a young, curly-haired grad school student named Marley, about Texas.
Her southern twinge is prominent and kind of adorable when she speaks about the state and whens he hands her the cone she asks her where she's from.
"Canada," she says, proud, handing over a dollar and fifty cents and delighting in the first taste of her ice-cream.
She opens the register and then straightens up with a wide grin. "Have a good day, eh?"
Putting on her best Texas drawl with a not-so straight face she replies coolly "You too, partner."