Sneaking around was tricky at first. Sometimes I'd take a cab to random rest stops where his bus would be parked, waiting. Sometimes I'd catch a ride to a hotel and he'd sneak up into the room I was staying in by myself. The trickiest was trying to get to his bus while the show was still running and no one was really around to spot the tiny hooded girl sneak onto the bus before it left for the next city. It was hard, but we did it, and it was worth it once we were alone.
"I think a production guy saw me," I rambled one night as I paced the small 'living room' area, waiting for him to join me once the show ended. "He saw me and has probably told everyone by now." I had hid in silence for the rest of the night until he got there, all smiles and happy to see me. "Maybe I should go."
"Whoa, whoa, calm down. I'm sure it's fine." He came over to me, placing his strong reassuring hands on my shoulders. As always, he wore a smile on his lips that made his dimples show. "You'll just stir up more questions by trying to find a ride last minute."
"I knew sneaking on so close to everyone was a bad idea," I mumbled, ever the pessimist.
"Alright, fine, we won't try it again. I'll get you a room at the next few spots and I'll meet you there. You can catch a ride with your friends. Of course that means less time together," he told me, giving me a knowing look. We were trying this so we'd be together more and he knew that's what I wanted.
"No," I whined, feeling like there was no winning here. "No, I want more time with you," I admitted. I slipped closer to him, tilting my head up as my arms slipped around his middle. He met me with a kiss and instantly everything was ok. I'd sneak around as much as necessary to spend every possible second with him.
I had gotten so good at being stealthy that avoiding him after the hotel fiasco was easy. I avoided crowded areas backstage, hung out in deserted hallways or in the nosebleed seats of arenas. I caught rides to the next city at the last minute and stayed in my hotel room when most others were out being social. I didn't want to chance seeing him, though it was hard to while the shows were going on. More than once our paths crossed and he tried to stop and talk to me. The more he tried, the more I retreated. I was embarrassed about what I'd done, how I reacted. I was angry at what he'd done, how he could kiss someone he barely knew, someone who wasn't me. I just couldn't face him.
I heard through the grapevine that it was affecting him, as well. I heard whispered conversation between the make-up and hair lady that he wasn't his usual self. The co-workers I rode with from city to city gossiped about his latest piece breaking his heart. No signs pointed to me, thank God, but it hurt to know he was hurting. All I heard were rumors but I knew what I saw. The image of them kissing would never leave my memory. It haunted my dreams and invaded my waking hours. How could I let him consume me so much? I guess love did that.
It took time to get back to normal. After a few months it felt ok to pass in the halls, though if I dared eye contact I could see sadness there, still. Next was lingering in crowded public areas backstage. Then it was leaving the arena with the group. Finally it was joining in when the gang went out for food or drinks at a local bar.
All the while work progressed in the right direction. I continued to act professional and work hard and it paid off. I was in the title scene, losing a few matches but my on screen character was relentless. It all led up to a pay-per-view match and I was booked to win my first title. The Sunday of the show ironically fell on what would have been our one year anniversary. I took this as a sign. It was time for us to talk.
While I had relaxed some backstage, I had still made it a point not to purposely be around him. This usually meant excusing myself from catering if he entered or hiding out backstage if he was in the ring before a show for whatever reason. I knew how his brain worked so I made myself available by sitting in seat in one of the lower sections to watch him as he went over a few spots with his own opponent that night. He caught me watching him and when they were finished, he leaned on the ropes facing me, looking right back at me. I silently placed my hand on the empty seat beside me and he took the queue and slide from the ring, jumping the barrier and making his way to me. I was aware that more than a few eyes were on us, but it was ok. If we were finally going to speak again, it would be in public.
He slide into the seat next to me, facing forward so we were both watching the ring as a new set of people took it over for some practice. "So what'd you think?" he asked, trying to be casual.
"The last spot is ridiculous but you're gonna do it no matter what so what does my opinion matter?" I told him bluntly. Maybe I was still hurt after all this time.
"You know me well," he sighed.
"I thought I did."
"You finally gonna fill me in on what made you jump off the deep end?" he asked. Did he really have no idea why I had been so mad? I turned to him in a huff.
"Don't act all innocent," I told him, my voice raising and drawing some attention but I kept going. "You know what you did. You know it was wrong. Well I saw it all, ok? I saw you ramming your tongue down her throat when you thought no one could see you." Once I started I couldn't stop. I jumped from my seat to get some height leverage on him and he just took it all. "Did you think I'd never find out? Who else were you seeing behind my back?" I asked him angrily, even going as far as to jab my finger into his shoulder accusatorily.
The hard prod got him and he stood then, looming over me. I always lost the height battle. "I never cheated on you, if that's what you're getting at," he spoke calmly at first but when a quick exhale of disbelief left my lips and I rolled my eyes, he started to get angry. "I don't know what you saw, but your delusional little mind is making…" He paused, I could tell his brain was working overtime. "Wait a minute. That night. That night was…" he trailed off and I picked it back up for him.
"That's right, I saw you kissing her backstage. I saw your hands in her hair, on her cheek, and I could see with my own eyes how you wanted it." My voice was raising again and we were drawing a crowd from the ringside area watching us.
"It's really not what you think," he tried to protest, reaching his hand out to touch my shoulder but I slapped it away roughly causing a few 'ohhs' from the guys near the ring. I ignored them and charged on.
"Don't touch me!" I roared. "You're not allowed to touch me anymore. You lost that privilege when you made out with… with that trashy whore! Did you think I wouldn't find out or that I wouldn't care? Did you think that six months of sneaking around was just fun and games for me? Did you really think I didn't love you?"
"You didn't love me," he voice boomed back.
"Of course I did!" I screamed back. "Of course I did and I still do!" Saying it released the floodgates and I only realized that tears were washing down my cheeks when his fingers touched them to wipe them away. I dropped my gaze to the floor, feeling embarrassed and ashamed all over again. "I love you," I told him, my voice absolutely defeated. "And you ruined it."
"I didn't ruin it," he told me in a near whisper. "She came onto me. There was a speck of dust or an eyelash or something on her cheek. I went to wipe it away. She kissed me and maybe it took a few seconds too long to react but I pushed her away. I told her I was in love with someone, I was off the market. She asked me who and I couldn't tell her it was you. I couldn't spoil our secret. But then you trashed the room and you ran and you wouldn't talk to me. I didn't know what happened. I was so lost for so long."
I looked up into his eyes again, believing every word he said. "You love me?" I squeaked out.
He nodded, those dimples so prominent on his cheeks. "I love you. You don't just turn that off like a switch."
I smiled a little, fully aware that everyone was watching us now, standing so close together with his hand on my cheek and my face tilted up to his. "Well don't tell anyone," I teased because he knew everyone had just witnessed our blowup as well.
"I won't," he chuckled and when out lips met I only heard the whoops from the crowd watching us for a second before everything shut off and it was just me and him together again at last. Love did that, I guess. It let you block out everything and focus on it and only it. It made you go crazy and trash hotel rooms, it tormented you when you tried to push it away. It makes you do a lot of things, but one thing remains. It always brings you back together in the end.
