Chapter 38

The following day, Emery was not surprised to discover Randy had taken Cheryl home for the rest of their days off and Paul had vacated as well. She asked Mark to come home with her to Sedona and he responded by kissing her breathless, not having any plans to leave her yet. After they talked everything out in a longer conversation, Emery came clean about the comic books and Mark simply waved her off dismissively. He wasn't angry about them, understanding why she destroyed them.

It was the final day before Mark had to go back on the road and they hadn't made love yet, though Mark had gotten clearance the previous day about his injury. She meant what she said; no sex until after he was healed. Surprisingly, Mark complied and hadn't tried anything with her sexually, just stuck with holding her at night and kisses. It felt like they were actually dating and taking things slow, starting over from scratch. Currently, they were sprawled on the couch with her laying on top of him and the television was on in the background for noise purpose.

"I'm gonna miss you." She kissed his chin, rubbing her mouth against his goatee and then pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "Are you excited to go back?"

If Emery was surprised by his amicable agreements to no sex, he didn't think she should be. Mark wasn't jeopardizing his official return to the ring. He had been doing promos and whatnot these past few weeks, but that was about it. He had make sure people knew he was still lurking, keep that finger on the pulse so to speak. David was returning soon apparently as well, but as far as he knew, the other man was going to mind his business and manners from here on out.

"Yeah, I'm ready to get back to kicking ass." He admitted with a smile, always having a deep raw passion for chaos and violence. "Now darlin', I did put in for a lighter schedule. I'll do the full tours when it comes to Europe and WrestleMania, but… from here on out, I'll be doing just Smackdown and pay-per-views, along with promotional shit every now and then." He wasn't a spring chicken anymore.

"You come see me when you have time, Mark. Don't worry, I can keep myself entertained and I know you have other obligations besides me." His kids, for example. "That's what the phone is for anyway. We can talk and maybe I'll even get you back on World of Warcraft." She giggled at his growly 'no' and nuzzled his chest, enjoying the tranquility that washed over both of them. "I'll be going back to work soon. Just gotta figure out what I wanna do, which I will. So I'll be busy too."

Winking up at him, Emery rubbed her nose against his gently while caressing his side. He was bare from the waist up and it was both sexy and relaxing at the same time. They would figure things out as the days passed by.

"Why not get involved in games?" He yawned, this was just too relaxing, laying with her, threading his fingers through her hair. "You could probably help develop the stories and all that…" She did love her games.

"Gaming is fun and if I do that for a job, I'll get burned out on it."

Even Emery knew when there was too much of a good thing and she didn't want to warp her mind either. It'd been warped enough with the WWE fiasco that nearly cost her the love of her life. Mark hadn't mentioned his kids to her and Emery was fine with it, not needing to delve into that part of his life. They were together and would see each other whenever he could visit. That was just the way things would be. Maybe down the road Emery would want more, but then again she already had his heart and it was enough. She would never, ever admit this to Mark, but Emery did miss her job at the WWE.

"So come back to the WWE." It was almost as if he read her mind. "You can't have your old job back. Cheryl is enjoying it too much." He snorted, knowing she was enjoying leading the writing team. "But doesn't mean you wouldn't have a spot." Mark doubted Vince would give her a position in any tier of management ever again. Too many problems, even if they weren't all her fault. "Or be my… personal assistant." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh yeah, sure. Personal assistant meaning I'd be distracting you so badly, you'd miss half your matches." Emery joked, shaking her head and nipped his bottom lip lightly. "I do miss the WWE, but…no." Batista would be there and Emery never wanted to see him again, if she could help it. She would never forget what he did to her and hated him far more than she did Mark, even after he wrote with sharpie on her forehead. "I left and put it behind me. I'll figure something out, even if I have to take a regular boring 9-to-5 job somewhere here."

Mark openly snorted at that one, letting her know just what he thought about that. "Sure darlin', send me pictures… I want to know how you do with a 9-to-5." Insurance, benefits, same boring crap day in and day out and she'd lose her mind. He'd give it… 2 months, tops. "Don't be too hasty, turning down that personal assistant offer. I might not make it again." He teased, knowing her being his personal assistant was actually kind of offensive, given her former position. "Darlin'." Mark sat up, moving her so she was straddling his lap. "Why not open up a comic book and game shop?"

It was her turn to snort. "You're kidding me, right? I don't want to do anything that involves games or comic books because that's fun to me. That's my escape from real life. I know wrestling is your passion and you could never imagine yourself doing anything else in your life. I just don't have that…type of passion for games and comic books. I love them, but they're also my escape." Emery probably didn't make a lick of sense to him, but in her mind it was understood perfectly. "A regular 9-to-5 might be just what I need. Something normal…no stress or being tricked to do something I don't want to do." She shrugged nonchalantly, feeling him press a kiss to her forehead. "Besides, I refuse to do that to Frankie." Comic book stores and even gaming stores these days had TOUGH competition because of the internet stores like Amazon and eBay. "And being your personal assistant just doesn't set well with me. I don't want to work with you in any capacity after what happened, no offense. I love you, but the WWE needs to stay out of our relationship completely."

Hadn't he said that before? Professional and personal didn't mix, at all. Shrugging, he decided to let her handle it, she'd sort it out. Mark figured running a comic book and game store would be fun for her, a way to indulge her hobby, as well as have insider access to anything she wanted.

"Agreed. Now go cook me dinner, woman." He ordered, receiving a well-placed sock to his jaw for that one, laughing. "It was a joke!"

"Uh huh."

Sliding from his lap, Emery sauntered into the kitchen wearing black cotton shorts and a red tank top. It was too hot this time of year, even with the central air kicking. Turning her radio on, Emery began making spaghetti – something simple and filling. She would miss Mark when he left in the morning, but at the same time, her life had to be pieced back together after what the WWE did to it. Halfway through cooking, Emery's cell rang and it was Cheryl, crying her eyes out.

"Cheri, what's wrong?"

"T-The baby…" Cheryl sobbed, feeling Randy's hand on her back rubbing it. "S-Something's wrong, Em…"

Mark rushed into the kitchen as Emery held her hand up in a one second gesture, her eyes widening with every word that came out of Cheryl's mouth. "Oh my god…" Leaving the kitchen, Emery began pacing in the living room, nodding. "Uh huh right…so you're not gonna be able to travel until after the baby's born, is what you're telling me?"

"Y-Yeah…I already called Vince and…Emery…"

"No. NO! I'm not doing it, no Cheryl. Get someone else. I can't…I can't go back there. My life was torn to shreds, I nearly lost Mark – no scratch that – I DID lose Mark for a while! How can you expect me to go back after everything that happened?"

"Emery, nobody else can do this." Cheryl's voice had grown stronger. "I need you to do this, please. Mark will have to understand…"

"No, Mark is not gonna understand a damn thing because I'm not doing it." If she went back into the lead writer's position, their relationship would be in shambles all over again. "I can't, Cheri, I'm sorry…"

Taking the phone from her, Mark placed a hand on Emery's head to stop her from trying to take it back. He had already gotten the text from Randy. "She'll think on it." He hung up, eyeing her. "It's temporary, Emery, and it's not going to have any effect on our relationship." When she began shaking her head, he sighed. "Em… she needs you. Placenta previa is no joke. She won't be able to travel and need to be monitored constantly." He bent down, staring into her eyes intently. "What are you afraid of, darlin'?"

"That is a dumbest question you've ever asked me, Calaway. You KNOW damn well what I'm afraid of!"

Emery understood Cheryl's condition could be fatal to the baby if she wasn't on strict bedrest for the duration of her pregnancy, but why did it have to be her? Why couldn't they pick someone else from the writing team to take her place temporarily?

"What if I go back and…and things fall apart because you don't like something I write for your character?! Or what if Batista tries to…"

She was having a panic attack and suddenly dropped on her backside right in front of him to put her head between her legs. Breathing in and out as slow as she could, tears stinging her eyes. The pain she felt when her and Mark ended last time…Emery wouldn't be able to handle the heartbreak and agony a second time around.

"Woman, slow the fuck down." Mark dropped down before her, cupping his hands over her face to help her breathe in her own air. "Now, first, you ain't writing for me at all. That was something Vince had to add to my contract a while ago. You are not to have any say in my business." It wasn't because he didn't like her lines, but because he was trying to keep business and pleasure separate. "And anything the other writers try, I get final say. As for Batista, if he comes near you, he's going to have three pissed off men out to kill him."

Emery just kept breathing, feeling nauseous about this entire situation and nodded to let Mark know she heard him. She didn't blame him either for putting that stipulation in his contract. It went for all the writers, not just her. Batista had really scared her with the kidnapping and ether overdose though. He could've killed her had Mark not known what to do. Stepping back into this company…Emery couldn't make a decision right now, not this fast.

She heard her phone go off and ignored it, already knowing who it was. Vince wanted an answer and she wasn't ready to give him one yet. Cheryl had told him she was the best replacement option since the other writers didn't know their heads from their asses, which she was inclined to agree with. They were a herd of sheep and her and Cheryl had been the shepherds of the flock. Her worst fear, above all, was losing Mark after just getting him back and starting their relationship over.

Mark let her be, helping out in the kitchen to salvage supper. She had been halfway into it when Cheryl called and now it was a little… iffy. When Emery tried to take over, he bumped her away with his hip. He was taller and bigger, he did it gently so she didn't go flying.

"Just… sit down, have a drink. I got this, darlin'." He ordered, knowing her mental state had gone out the window for the evening.

The sauce had burned on the bottom a little bit because the heat on the stove was too high, but other than that it was fine. "You gotta boil the water for the noodles next."

Emery felt like her world was unraveling all over again because of WWE, frowning while sitting down at the table. She did not drink whiskey of any kind anymore, but…wine was a necessity. Pouring Mark a glass as well, she drained the first glass and then poured another one, feeling the edge slowly tapering.

"I don't have a choice in this, do I?" It was more of a statement than a question, her eyes remaining lowered. "Was that Vince that called?"

"No." He said flatly, scowling at the pan.

No shit the noodles had to be boiled! Granted, he wasn't a natural in the kitchen, but he had nuked himself Ramen's before… same principal here, but with a stove. Mark wasn't about to tell her he had a text from Randy, not a call. He still wasn't sure why Orton considered him a member of their little posse, but the man did.

"You have a choice Em, but if you do it, remember you're making that choice. Don't go in a martyr."

"Since when do you call me Em?" She couldn't remember the last time he called her that, raising a brow at his scowl. Randy, Paul and Cheryl did, but never Mark. "Whoa, back up!" Emery shoved him away from the stove and turned the heat down, jumping back when the water overflowed out of the pot and nearly missed her hand by a second. "Mark, darling, I love you, but get the hell out of my kitchen or sit at the table."

Now she was annoyed for several reasons, pulling holders on her hands to grab the pot and put it in the sink. Filling it up with water all over again after turning the heat down on the sauce. How did this man survive whenever he was at home by himself, she wondered, deciding not to voice that out loud.

Parking his backside at the table, Mark finished both their wine glasses, frowning. "What the fuck, Emery? It's just like those packets of noodles, right? Boil 3 minutes and done? And I call you Em, since Orton doesn't use your actual name." He wasn't amused when she began laughing, not sure which part she found funny. Mark might spank her bottom until it was as red as that sauce.

"Oh Deadman…my poor, sweet, man." Emery couldn't help laughing at him, shaking her head and pointed at the box of spaghetti noodles. They were even labeled that. "You have to boil the water and then pour the noodles in. It takes about 10 minutes before they are done, then you take one out, test it by eating it to make sure it's slick enough and soft. It's right here on the box." She could see his ears turning red and bit her bottom lip, proceeding to put the pot back on the stove to start boiling the water again. "Just let me handle it. I think we're gonna start giving you cooking lessons when you come to see me."

If she decided not to take this job with the WWE…again.