Chapter 4

It'd been three months since the burial…Three months since she had lost her soulmate and Tressa only wished for the pain to go away.

Her eyes opened, seeing Jon standing right in front of her and all she could do was burst into tears. Dropping her cigarette, Tressa fell to her knees, burying her face in her trembling hands. Jon had realized something was beyond wrong when he had seen the shock immediately replaced by soul-crushing grief in those gray eyes. He had walked around the car, staring down at her, saying her name, but her mind was far away from him for what seemed like an eternity. When she had 'snapped to' and dropped, he just barely caught her before her knees could hit the pavement, his hands gently but firmly catching her elbows. She wasn't even aware, as he pulled her up, she was crying.

No…she was bawling, sobbing violently, and these were cries he had maybe heard only once or twice in his life. "I got you, darlin'." He whispered, unsure if she heard him or not, lifting her up into his arms. She was shaking so badly, he could feel it vibrating his own body. "I'm here, Tressa…" He stroked her hair with one hand, keeping the other arm firmly locked around her.

He had a feeling and it left a sour taste in his mouth, a sick feeling in the pit in his gut because there wasn't anything he could do to change it, that he wasn't the one she wanted. Truthfully, if Tressa met Jon before Joseph, she would have been with him in a heartbeat. They had a lot in common, they enjoyed hanging out with each other and could talk about absolutely anything. Well, almost anything. Tressa clung to him for dear life, knowing if it was anyone else, she would've tried to get away from them immediately.

Not Jon.

His comfort, the warmth of his body against hers, and his low, gritty voice in her ear, trying to soothe her, was a welcomed change. It took her quite a while to calm down the sobs, but the crying didn't stop as her arm tightened around his neck, her face remaining buried in his neck. She had soaked his neck with tears, and he hadn't complained once, letting her release the turmoil deep within. Tressa hadn't meant to break completely down, but the moment, the second, that question left Jon's mouth, it hit her like a ton of bricks. It brought her back to the morning she found Joseph dead in the home they had shared their lives together.

She didn't even have to say it, not that she could anyway with the way she was breaking down. This was grief – pure and raw grief. Joseph hadn't cheated, there wasn't a divorce. The man was dead, and Jon didn't need to ask or for her to say it aloud. He just held her, caressing her hair and letting her have this breakdown on him. Jon wondered how many she'd had. How many nights she had laid awake crying herself into a sleep that didn't bring anything except more pain because the mind wouldn't let it rest?

When she finally stopped crying, he just held her more, slowly rocking his body back and forth, listening to her ragged breathing, the wild pounding of her heart trying to leap from her chest to his. He let out a ragged sigh of his own, kissing the crown of her hair. It took an hour before Tressa finally calmed down all the way, her body sagging against Jon's and she slowly lifted her face from his neck.

"W-We need to get going." She muttered, wiping her tears away and lifting her red-rimmed, swollen eyes up to meet concerned, worried blues. At least there wasn't pity in his eyes. She wouldn't have been able to tolerate that because she didn't need anyone pitying her. "Jon, you have to put me down, so we can make it to the show tonight."

Jon had a momentary mind blank. He almost asked her if she SHOULD be working, if she really wanted to, but…he didn't. There was no way she wanted to hear those tired old platitudes that people used to convey their condolences or offer her support. She already knew it and she had probably already heard it, more times than she could count. He just nodded, letting her down, and took a step backward, putting space between them both. He lit a cigarette, offering it to her before getting himself another.

"We've still got time, Tres." His voice came out its normal rasp, no pity or sympathy in it because she'd shut him down quick. Hell, who wouldn't?

Nodding, Tressa took a very long, deep drag from the cigarette, almost to the point of it cutting off her air supply, and slowly exhaled while shutting her eyes. Nicotine did calm her down, surprisingly enough. "Joe's dead." If Jon didn't have his suspicions or figure it out by her breakdown, she just confirmed it for him. "I found him." Her voice was low and full of sadness, anguish, and pain. "Autopsy revealed a heart attack and he had an enlarged heart and was probably born with it." Another drag forced the tears to stay in her eyes. "And here's the real kicker – not only did I lose my husband, but I lost our baby I didn't even know I was carrying." Miscarriage, one month after the funeral. "We'd been trying to have a baby for years and I finally got pregnant…and lost it because I lost him. Irony at its finest."

Wow. Jon didn't even know what to think, let alone say, and he did the wise thing and didn't say a word. He just smoked his cigarette and watched the vehicles on the highway pass them by. "I'm sorry for both your losses, darlin'." He said gravely when the silence had gone on long enough to become uncomfortable. There really wasn't anything else he could say and that explained everything that had changed with her. Jon flicked away what was left of his cigarette, turning to stare down at her. "Can I drive?" He held out his hand. She looked like she needed to try resting; he highly doubted she'd be able to, though. Well, not her mind at least. "Come on," He gave her a half-smile. "You drive like a snail anyway and we're pressed for time."

"And you drive like you're being chased by the cops." Tressa shot back dryly, having some kind of humor still, and tossed the keys at him, scrubbing a hand down her face. "Only because I'm exhausted from that breakdown." She added, not sure why she told Jon the truth about everything, but now he knew.

Maybe he would take the hint and leave her alone after this, though Tressa doubted it. If anything, he would probably swarm her and constantly check on her to make sure she was all right. She was far from all right but had to keep living her life the best she could. Buckling up, Tressa leaned her head back against the seat as Jon drove off from the rest stop, placing a hand over her flat stomach and silent tears slid down her cheeks freely. Crying in front of Jon wasn't a big deal now that he knew the truth.

Everyone else – absolutely not.

No, Jon wasn't planning on being 'up her ass'. He would treat her as he always had, though he would also observe. Jon didn't want to push her too far, not when she was still grieving, not knowing what she was apt to do like this. He almost decided to tell her about why he had been ignoring her, biting his tongue. It was weird the way that worked. A person's pain and problems were important to the person themselves and, even then, could be slight compared to another's pain. It didn't minimize the impact, or the lingering issues it had caused, but…it still felt wrong and he felt he was handling his issues better than her. Not to mention, by pretending it hadn't happened, he did sometimes have panic attacks because now he had a legit fear, besides not being able to wrestle; he was dealing. She was a distraction, and he welcomed that.

He passed her his bandana, not saying a word.

"Please don't say anything to anyone about this. Especially Colby and Joe." Tressa requested in a murmur after Jon pulled into the parking lot of the arena.

Before he could respond, she was out of the car in a flash, grabbed her bag, and hurried inside, needing to put some space between her and Jon. It didn't take much for her to go off like a geyser about Joseph's death, but Tressa honestly wasn't expecting him to ask that question. Finding her station, Tressa sat down and put her head in her hands, knowing it was going to be a very long night. After that breakdown, she was really needing something to take the edge off and took a deep breath before pulling out her materials. Work first – then she could go back to the hotel and cry herself into another stupor with a bottle of Vodka.

Jon wasn't saying a word; it wasn't his business. Though, they may be more inclined to leave her alone if they knew. Or maybe they'd be constantly trying to do nice things to make her feel better. Who knew? He leaned against her car, smoking and busy on his cell. Joe sent him a quick reply, they were pulling in. Good, he needed his gear.

"Did you find anything out?'

"She ignored me the entire time." Jon lied easily enough, shrugging his shoulders.

"I find that hard to believe," Colby accused suspiciously. "You can be very hard to ignore when you put your mind to it."

Joe snorted. "What he's saying is you're an obnoxious dick."

"That too."

On her smoke break, Tressa was on the phone with her attorney, nodding at what she was saying. Her name was Clementine Manners, one of the top lawyers in the country. Joseph's mother was trying to take his estate away from her and she wasn't having it. The old hag had stepped over the line with Tressa quite a few times during the marriage and blamed her for the death of her son. It was preposterous considering the MOTHER had no idea her son had an enlarged heart throughout his life! She understood his parents had gone through a nasty divorce, where Joseph wound up living with his father and stepmother, who his father had cheated on his mother, but that gave the woman no right to try to take away what Joseph clearly left her. She was the sole beneficiary to everything, and the old woman could sit and spin for all she cared!

"So, she has no leg to stand on, in other words?"

"Nope, none at all. She's just grieving right now and hopefully, she'll realize the error of her ways soon enough and drop this." Or else they would destroy her in court. "It's her decision ultimately now."

"Good. Keep me posted, Clem and thanks again."

"No problem, how are you holding up, sweetie?"

"Living. That's pretty much it."

Clementine understood, not sure what she would do if she was in Tressa's shoes, and honestly had no idea what to say to make the woman feel better. "I'm so sorry his family is putting you through this."

"Believe me, it doesn't surprise me in the least."

Sad but true.

"Maybe not, but it doesn't make it right." Clementine sighed, though this didn't surprise her either.

A death always did one of two things: it either brought out the best in people or the very worst. In this case, it was the worst, and it wasn't the first time she had to deal with it on behalf of a client. She just wished people would show a little common decency because, if they let their grief overrule common sense, they'd wind up regretting their actions once the grief finally lifted.

"Fuck…"

Jon scrubbed the ever-loving hell out of the small cut he had managed to give himself with a broken metal folding chair. Band-aid…he had those antibiotic ones in his bag. No infection. Ever. Before, he wouldn't have blinked twice about something like this, but now…not so much.

Why did she care if Jon had a ride back to the hotel?

Tressa should have been worried about herself and, instead, she was standing outside of Jon's dressing room. Joe and Colby would get him where he needed to go, yet she was here, acting a fool. Sighing, she bought her hand up and knocked before pushing the door open, frowning at the sight before her. Jon was SCRUBBING his skin raw with an antibiotic wipe, his face actually turning red.

"Jon, what are you doing to yourself?"

She went to him, watching him halt in the scrubbing and the amount of fear she saw in his eyes, when he looked up at her…it took her breath away temporarily. What brought this on? This was the same man who had been in COUNTLESS deathmatches in the Indies and had bled BUCKETS full.

"It's just a cut…and it's not bleeding anymore…"

"Just…stay there, don't…" He ordered, now red from a combination of irrational fear, embarrassment, and good old-fashioned anger.

This was a stupid fear, illogical, and it was giving him compulsion issues when it came to issues like this. Petty cuts. She was a seamstress; Tressa pricked her finger routinely with her needles and whatnot and she was still alive, right? Sometimes, infections on a massive scale happened, it was just bad luck, a once-in-a-lifetime deal. Cursing under his breath, he dug for his band-aids and quickly put one on, taking a very deep breath.

"Just…no."

He didn't know what to say, other than be quiet, but she was usually doing that these days anyway. He groaned, staring at the damn bandage on the stupid, small cut. Frowning, Tressa wondered where this came from because Jon was NEVER one to freak out over a tiny cut like this. It looked like a papercut, no joke. However, Jon looked terrified of the damn thing and Tressa wasn't about to upset him more than she already had.

"I-I'm sorry. I just…came here to see if you needed a ride to the hotel. I'll…leave, Jon." She headed for the door, not looking back and Jon moved quicker than a man his size had the right to, slamming it shut just as she opened it. It made her jump back with wide grey eyes, staring at him like he'd lost his mind. "What the hell is your problem?!"