Ricardo's week goes by slowly. His time in England is slowly slipping away and he almost looks forward to going back home, to get away from the Knights. They mean well, he thinks, and Paige's brothers hadn't mentioned her since that first week, but still. It's tense and awkward whenever he walks by them behind the scenes, relieved to go into the privacy of the bedroom they've provided him with and sink into bed every night.
By Wednesday, the news reaches him. Alberto had used the out in his contract, had left WWE for the second time in as many years. Ricardo closes his eyes, wondering how different things might be had Alberto just stayed on the indys, wrestling for ROH, Lucha Underground, AAA, and all of the places that had loved him in that year. I might still have my brother to talk to right now, Ricardo thinks, picking at some frayed threads on the sleeve of his shirt. He sighs, reluctantly going to begin another round of training with the students at WAW.
By night, he's so exhausted that he's nodding off while still standing, so it's through blurry eyes that he realizes his phone is lit up. He tries to scroll through the many messages waiting for him but only a few words register here and there and before he realizes it, he's fast asleep, the phone still held between his loose fingers. He sleeps hard, better than he has in awhile, his body finally giving up to its desperate need for some healing rest. For this reason, he's groggy and can barely move when he wakes up hours later, staring in confusion at the grey sky beyond his window. He groans and reaches up to run his hand through his hair just to drop the phone on his own face.
Crying out at the sudden, unexpected pain, he sits up sharply and rubs at his aching nose, glaring down at his phone. Picking it up, he's about to toss it onto the bedside table when he freezes, seeing a familiarly awkward mix of Spanish and English scrolling along the screen, Alberto's name assaulting his eyes. He grimaces and goes back to the start of the texts, reading them with an unreadable, dark look on his face.
Hola, Ricardo.I know you probably don't want to hear from me now, much less ever, but I needed to talk to you, even if it is by text, mi hermano. I know when I re-signed with WWE, you had your reservations. You were never rude about it, you accepted me for what I intended on doing, and you never judged me. So now that it has crashed around me spectacularly, I feel the need to text you with something you'd never ask of me: To say that you were right. You were always a good friend to me, even when- especially when- I didn't deserve you, and I promise if I ever earn your forgiveness enough to receive suggestions from you again, I will pay them more respect in the future. If we end up working together on the indys again, I promise I'll not force you into an uncomfortable situation.
Ricardo reads it through a few times, his eyes slipping closed as he drops back against the pillows, aware he has to leave soon to start the next day of training, but instead he lays there and reads it again, trying to think of a good way to word a response. He has nothing, his friendship with Alberto so shattered that he can't think of anything to say to him, or even find enough interest to pretend. He sighs and opens his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a minute before swinging his legs out of bed.
Desperate to stop thinking, he rushes through a shower and getting dressed before returning to the ring. Soon enough, he's back at it, helping the greener wrestlers learn and grow as talent, relieved that here, at least, his thoughts quiet and he can focus on something that actually matters.
So many rumors and speculations are spread along the internet the rest of the week that Ricardo's glad to be overseas, where the wifi is iffy at times. He sighs as he takes one more trip to PCW that weekend, eager to wrestle in a tag match with El Ligero. The match goes in a way he definitely wasn't expecting and then he loses. It's disappointing, but it is what it is, so he returns to the hotel booked for him and stares once more at his phone, debating still how to respond to Alberto's texts. There's nothing really to say, still, but he can't bring himself to delete the texts yet, so he closes them out and instead goes to "New message" and sends a new text to Alicia. Just a little longer now and I'll be home.
Counting the days, Alicia responds about ten minutes later with a small smiley face following it.
Ricardo smiles at the text before putting the phone down and settling in to sleep. Unlike earlier in the week, sleep isn't easy to find but he's content enough to lay in the bed and work on meditating, trying to find his center.