Things do not go according to plan. Miz tries, Maryse fights as hard as she can, it's just in the end, pitting the reality show couple versus a couple who's actually been married for the last decade, with children, and routines and who know each other inside and out... doesn't translate. So all their efforts, all the media spent talking this night, this match, everything else riding on it up, hell even another one of Maryse's purses do nothing to help them in the long run because they still lose.
Mike's laying on his hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling, thinking. Imagining. Daydreaming about if it had been AJ healthy enough to be by his side, a smirk on her face as she tags in and completely runs circles around Beth, leaving the Glamazon disoriented and uncertain where to look, re-energizing Mike enough to truly kick Edge's ass and leave him laying for the three.
Alas, that had not happened and Mike turns his head and looks when Maryse ventures back into the main room, putting her cell phone away. "Heath good?" he asks, yawning into his fist as she settles down on her own bed, folding her legs primly under her.
"Yeah," she sighs. "He and the girls are great. They're asleep and he's watching a movie before he crashes too." She fusses with her hair and then smiles tensely. "I wish I was with them now."
Mike grimaces. "I'm sorry tonight went so poorly. I know we both wanted more."
"Well, it'll be good footage for the next season of Miz and Mrs., right?" she asks, her lips trembling a little as she adjusts herself and sinks down into her pillows.
"Yeah," he whispers, frowning at her. "It will be that." She doesn't say anything and, after a few moments, he reaches over to shut his lamp off, deciding maybe an early night will do them both good.
Come morning, Mike's slept more than he has in awhile, and he's determined to make Sunday a good day, travel on to where Raw is going to be held, and maybe do some sightseeing in their down hours. But when he wakes up, Maryse is already up and at them, a determined look on her face as she drags her luggage towards the door.
"I'm going home," she informs him, sitting on her bed facing him. "I don't think there's any reason for me to stay right now, and I miss my husband. I miss my daughters. I may come back for Wrestlemania, but for right now, I need to get my head back on straight. Will you..." She hesitates, breathes in slow. "Will you be alright?"
Mike is still a little bit groggy, but he can just sense his answer has to be just right. "Yeah, of course," he tells her, watching as the tension bleeds from her. "Don't worry about it, go home, do what you need to do. I understand."
She smiles at him, eyes warm with relief. "Thank you so much, Mike. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're always so understanding and helpful."
They hug before she leaves, and then he's all alone in the hotel room, gazing at the empty bed across from him. "Well," he mumbles. "On we go, Mike."
Traveling to Raw solo feels weird, because he's gone from having Morrison by his side to Maryse, and it's the first time in a couple years where there's no one in the car next to him, no one to debate flight details with. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel and shakes his head slowly, never doing well with loneliness.
All of this negativity builds and fills him up until he finds himself taking it out on Dominik Mysterio the next night on Raw. Well, it's the road to Wrestlemania and right now, he doesn't have much else better to do, so why not?