DISCLAIMER: As much as it breaks my heart to admit it, I do not own anyone or anything connected to Vince McMahon and his awesomeness. I can only claim property rights of OC.
***A/N – This is Part 1 of 3 (I think)***
Claire woke slowly, more warm and comfortable than she had ever been. They had stayed up late into the night, snuggled in bed, just talking. She was slightly surprised that Randy hadn't tried to pick up where they left off before dinner. He had been content to simply hold her as they talked. It was something she hadn't expected but it was a welcome surprise. It was nice to think that Randy wanted more out of their relationship than what they shared between the sheets. Not that she could complain; she and Randy were more than compatible when it came to intimate matters. But again, it was nice to know that there was something deeper between them. Rolling onto her side, she reached for Randy. Her fingers met with the cool, empty space where he had been. Apparently he isn't a late sleeper. Claire thought as she yawned and stretched. Slowly pushing back the blankets, Claire forced herself to get out of bed. She wondered where Randy was. The only way she was going to find him would be to look for him.
After pulling on her robe, Claire made her way downstairs. The house was utterly silent as she stepped into the living room. She scanned the room before moving into the kitchen. Again, she found herself alone. She turned slowly to look at the room. A long stemmed red rose sat on the breakfast table. She smiled as she crossed the room and looked at the creamy envelope propped against the vase. Her name was carefully scrawled on the heavy paper. Opening the missive, she smiled as she looked at the cream colored stationary. Randy's initials were embossed into the heavy paper. Claire couldn't believe that a man like Randy had his own stationary. It was odd but cute. She carefully opened the card and read it,
Good morning, Baby
I'm sorry I wasn't with you when you woke up. I had to run a few errands before lunch. Try not to miss me too much. I'll be back soon.
Love, Randy
Leaning against the table, Claire read the note again. She carefully folded it and held it against her chest. How sweet of him! He was just too thoughtful. He knew she would worry when she woke alone. Glancing at the clock, Claire realized it was shortly before 10 o'clock. The wording of the note made her believe he would be back to share lunch with her. She quickly poured a cup of coffee and went back upstairs. She moved to the bathroom and turned the shower on. She pulled off her nightgown and let it fall to the floor. After checking the temperature, she stepped under spray. Letting her eyes close, she enjoyed the steamy warmth. As hard as she tried, she just couldn't believe the change in Randy. This new version of him was surprising, to say the least. Claire thought back to their first meeting in the airport. It seemed like a lifetime ago. And yet somehow it also seemed like it was just yesterday. Sometimes she still saw glimpses of that tough asshole. He was always very direct and didn't have time for bullshit. He said exactly what was on his mind, consequences be damn. At least he was that way when he was with the guys from the roster. When he was with her, now that was a different story. He was kind and considerate, loyal and loving. Randy still had his Jekyll and Hyde personality but at least now she understood him. That made all the difference in the world.
Claire stepped from the shower just as the hot water was turning cool. She wrapped a thick towel around herself and stood in front of the mirror. She reached for her hairbrush then frowned. She must have forgotten to unpack it last night. It must still be in the luggage. Taking a quick sip of coffee, Claire stepped into the bedroom. She kept her eyes and thoughts away from the bed. It was going to be an incredibly long day if all she could think about was what would eventually happen in that bed. She pulled the larger of her suitcases out of the closet and quickly rummaged through it without success. Next, she pulled out the smaller of the two and again, didn't find it. Glancing into the closet, she spotted her carry-on perched on a shelf. Standing on tiptoes, she reached for the bag and pulled. After a moment of it not moving, Claire wiggled the bag slightly and felt it give. It slipped free from the shelf. She set the bag on the floor in time to see a box fall off the same shelf. Apparently her bag had been snagged on a box that was slightly larger than a shoe box. Claire watched as the contents spilled over the light colored carpet. Shit. I hope nothing breakable was in there. Tucking the towel tighter around her body, she knelt on the floor and picked up some of the things that had scattered onto the carpet. She smiled as she looked at down at a picture of Randy. She guessed it was at least two or three years old. He was younger and a little thinner but he still had the same smart-ass smirk. The next was another picture of Randy, this one showing an even younger version of him. He was standing with his arm around an older man, which Claire assumed to be his father. It was amazing to see how much he had changed but somehow still stayed the same. Claire carefully placed the photos back in the box and reached for another handful. She placed them into the box without looking. As curious as she was, she couldn't bring herself to invade his privacy any more than she already had. Claire reached for a piece of paper that had missed the box and had fallen onto the floor. She glanced down at it and felt her self control drain away. Her eyes quickly scanned the letter and her curiosity turned into dread.
I can't wait for you to come home. I miss you. I miss making love to you. I want you so much it hurts. I know why you can't be with me now and I want you to know that I understand. I know you're making a better life for yourself, for us. Knowing how much you love me makes it easier to be away from you.
Claire forced herself to skip to the bottom. She didn't think she was strong enough to read the rest of what had been written. She stared at the name signed with a flourish, Rosalyn. Who the hell is Rosalyn? Clare felt a flash of jealousy, stinging and white hot. Why had Randy never mentioned her? Was she someone in his past? Or worse, was she someone he didn't want her to know about? The possibility made her feel nauseated. Shoving the paper back into the box, Claire grabbed the last few photos from the floor. She knew she should resist the urge to look at them. She couldn't. The first one was one of Randy with his arm wrapped around a petite blonde woman. They were wrapped around each other as only lovers would be. Claire looked at the next photo and wished she hadn't. It was one of Randy and the blonde again, this time she was bent backward over Randy's arm as he kissed her. And it sure as hell wasn't the way he'd kiss his mother. This woman was definitely a lover. Turning the photo over, Claire read what was written there in a delicate, feminine hand "Randy and Rosalyn; Summer 1999."
So the blonde was named Rosalyn? Didn't that just figure? The woman in the photo was a delicate, blonde creation. She was a perfect match to Randy's darker complexion. They looked like the typical Ken and Barbie couple. They were so damn perfect together that it made Claire's stomach ache. Biting back a wave of nausea, she tossed them into the box and slammed the lid on. She left the box on the floor and quickly pulled herself up. She went back into the bathroom and turned on the cold water in the sink. She scooped up a handful of water and quickly scrubbed her hands over her face. The coolness made her feel just a little better. The urge to vomit wasn't as strong now. She breathed deeply and turned the water off. Surely there was a reason Randy had never mentioned Rosalyn yet kept a box of mementos in his closet. Instinct told her that she should get dressed and leave. If Randy was keeping secrets then what was the point of sticking around? Squeezing her eyes closed, Claire tried to silence the nagging voice that was telling her to do what she couldn't. Leaning against the counter, Claire forced herself to think rationally. It wouldn't be fair to Randy or herself to just walk away. They were at a different stage of their relationship now. When you were involved with someone that you really loved, you didn't just walk away. You tried to talk things out and tried to fix it. The least she could do was give Randy a chance to explain. She owed them both that much.
"Claire? I'm home." Claire straightened as she heard Randy's voice coming up the stairs. She was not going to have to wait long to get that explanation.
Randy stopped just inside the doorway of the bedroom and watched Claire as she stepped out of the bathroom. She was wrapped tightly in one of the luxurious gray towels and nothing else. Her hair hung in damp waves, the dark curls tumbling over one bare shoulder. He couldn't believe she was really standing here, in his bedroom. It was a dream come true. He had finally found the woman he was destined to be with. He was one lucky bastard.
"Did you miss me?" he asked with a smile and he took a step into the room.
Claire's fingers clutched the towel and pulled it tighter against her. She took a deep, fortifying breath as she looked Randy in the eyes, "Who is Rosalyn?"
Randy froze mid-stride. All at once the world fell away. He heard a sharp, high-pitched buzzing in his ears. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly. No way in hell she had just spoken that name. Her name. The name that had not crossed his lips in years. How in hell did she know? Instantly Randy began to list the ways she could have possibly found out. He could count the number of people who knew about HER on one hand. So who had started running off at the mouth when they really shouldn't? Crossing the room in three strides, Randy grabbed Claire by the shoulders. He stared down at her as he asked, "How do you know?"
Claire shook her head slowly, hating to tell him what happened with the box. She knew he would be upset that she had looked at his private things, "It was an accident."
"Tell me." Randy didn't realize he was shouting until he saw the flash of fear that crossed Claire's face.
"You're hurting me." Claire said as she looked down at Randy's fingers biting into her skin.
"I asked you a question." Randy's voice was surprisingly calm, considering the death grip he had on her.
The words came tumbling out of her so fast, she barely understood what she was saying,
"I pulled my bag off the shelf and the box came with it. The lid came off and everything came out. I swear I wasn't snooping." Claire felt a wave of unease come over her. She'd never seen Randy like this. He looked positively enraged. He hadn't even been this upset after he had found Jake molesting her in the parking lot. "Let me go."
Randy didn't realize he was squeezing Claire until he heard her soft gasp of pain. It was almost as if he was outside of himself. He felt like he was floating somewhere above them, watching some crazy person hurt Claire. He moved closer to her, causing her to take a step back. He kept moving them until she felt the wall pressing into her back.
"Randy, stop. You're scaring me." Claire whispered as Randy leaned down and looked her in the eyes. She saw the glassy, vacant stare there and knew true fear. She'd never seen him like this and it scared her senseless.
"I want the fucking truth! Start talking. Now!" Randy unconsciously shook her, his fingers digging deeper into her skin. He would keep shaking her until she told him the truth.
"Let me go." Claire whimpered as the pain intensified. She didn't know how to get through to him. He was positively unhinged.
"TELL ME." Randy shouted at Claire, his nose bumping against hers.
"¿ Señor Randy?" Claire sagged in relief as she realized they were no longer alone. She had never been so glad to hear another person in all her life. Monica stood in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. The poor woman had no idea what she had interrupted.
Randy felt himself slowly returning to his body. He came to his senses by slow degrees. He looked down to find his fingers digging painfully into Claire's pale skin. His hands quickly dropped to his side and instantly hated himself. The impression of his fingers were a bright red mark against her skin. His eyes focused on her face and the fear so clearly written there. What have I done? Randy forced himself to take a step away from her, his hands curling into fists at his side. He swallowed hard and took a second step away from her. His eyes returned to the angry red marks; he couldn't look away. His attention was drawn away from Claire as Monica moved past him to stand protectively in front of her. What kind of monster am I? Randy swallowed a wave of self loathing and quickly turned on his heel. He left the room and bolted down the stairs. The heavy front door slammed behind him as he left.
***A/N – Come back soon for Part 2. Please review!!!***
