In reality, I have some fundamental problems. I'm entirely faithful and absolutely dedicated, butI can't deal with myself. I can't bring up who I am and what I've done with even the slightest hope of being 90% honest about it. I thought I could, but the fact that my husband had to find out one of my biggest mistakes from Lane Stevens himself just goes to show how capable I am.
Of course, thanks to Lane, I've now got no choice but to handle my existance -- the good and the bad -- and I get to do it all under a scalding hot spotlight.
1.1. (Airlines, Appointments, Early Flights) Thankfully, these people were probably waiting around the airport or coming in on a connecting flight when Lane Stevens further sullied her reputation. Plus, she could always count on only 50 - if that many - percent of people actually hearing about what happens on some bullshit wrestling show that they can only assume is full of nonsense stories anyway. But it was the few looks she DID get that stung - not because they were from people who knew, but people who would know. She couldn't honestly look anyone in the eye, because on the off chance that they actually knew who she was, they'd have a much different opinion of her as soon as they caught wind of the truths Lane Stevens just told. That hurt even more; He hadn't been lying. He was simply highlighting low points in a life that had become so much more than bad decisions. She was sleeping in a curious sort of time vaccuum, where it was too soon for most people to know the things that had been said about her, and that bought her precious moments to collect herself as best she could before stepping straight into a nightmare at home - if there was anything left of 'home' when she got there. The turbulent landing had shaken Amy quickly out of her daydreams and back into the real world, where real people were waiting to be dealt with. A few seconds into the airport, and she found herself lost despite having been there a hundred times before. ''God damnit, how long have I lived here?!'' ''Frustrated?'' came a voice, ''How're ya holding up?'' Of course. One damned person knew what had happened only a couple of hours before, and he wanted to bring it up. When Amy turned, she recognized one of the scrawny members of the photography crew who'd apparently left early. ''I got to go home early, so I must be fine.'' As hard as she tried, the venom in her mock joy had come to the surface quickly, ''But the million dollar question is why are YOU going home early? I'm sure Lane was gonna have a big, shocking main event moment again, now there's one less guy there to capture it.'' He was beaming from head to toe and, even though Aimz couldn't so much as remember his name, she recognized it as an uncharacteristic happiness for a man who snapped pictures of sweaty men for a living. But when he spilled ''I'm having a baby tomorrow!'', she couldn't help ward off the oncoming joke. ''Who's the lucky father?'' ''Funny! I like that!'' he grinned. Apparently the impending stress of another life being in your hands makes some people un-necessarily giddy. ''My wife's set to deliver by C-section in the morning, so they let me take an early flight back. This is our third, so it's not as huge a panic as it used to be.'' Somehow, he'd gotten the idea that Amy was interested in some casual conversation. She wasn't, but this guy always tried to use flattering angles when he was staring at her ass through a lens, so he'd earned her kindness. ''Maybe pregnancy isn't the best topic right now, though...'' It was cute that he'd tried to correct himself. She gave him that much when she replied, ''It's fine. I'm fine.'' ''I've seen you backstage enough to know that when you answer someone in under twenty words, you're usually not 'fine'. Don't worry about it, though - everyone makes mistakes.'' Everyone makes mistakes was what she'd heard ten times already. Everyone did make mistakes, but not everyone's mistakes got broadcasted worldwide. Not everyone had to drive out of that airport and try to explain to their husband why they put a life in the hands of cocaine, or why they saw fit to keep that from him. ''Some people get to learn from their mistakes and quietly move on,'' she sighed, finally seeing the end of the conversation when her luggage came around the conveyor belt. Amy's bags were pink and tiger-striped -- after a dozen cases of lost luggage, she'd learned from that mistake and stopped buying the plain black cases. This always got a chuckle out of whoever was nearby, but the photographer whose name was on the tip of her tongue didn't even get a chance to make a comment about them before she brushed him off, knowing that he'd just watched her excuse to be rude getting interviewed by Ethan Peters earlier. ''Congratulations on the baby.'' She patted him on the shoulder once, beginning her trek backwards through the flight staging area, ''Tell me the name next week, I'll send an appropriately coloured onesie.'' When she broke away from the crowd, it was only to join another. Pink luggage wheeling behind her, Amy stepped up to an Air Canada ticket counter without so much as pausing to remember her zip code. She produced her American Express and slapped it onto the counter to get the attendant's attention. ''I need a flight to Halifax for the day after tomorrow.'' No matter how things with Darcy turned out, she knew for sure that her family would need to regain some kind of faith in their favorite little fuck-up. Plus, she had a doctor's appointment to get to.
Thirty-five thousand feet above the grass, ocean or whatever it is that she wasn't seeing, the only thing Amy Campbell's pupils were privy to in that moment were the insides of her eyelids, and that's the way she liked it when it came to flights. She was hiding from awkward conversation and attention that, on any other day, she'd try to soak up like a dry sponge. Any day before the uncertain dismantling of her career had begun, that is.
I didn't always tell the truth. I don't always tell the truth... but truthfully, does anybody? It doesn't matter, because I've been faithful. I've given him every reason to want me and just the same, I've given him every reason to loathe the woman he wakes up beside. Lane Stevens serves no other purpose but to highlight the later points.
'Ashamed' didn't even cover a fraction of the emotions that were making my skull throb. I was sure that I was walking into nothing short of a warzone, but the only thing that greeted me was Reaper.
1.2. (Saviour) With a heavy sigh, she stopped rolling her bags and searched through the hallway, finding no sign of the husband she was nervous to face. The TV was off, the bed was still made and nothing was broken - so he clearly hadn't been watching the show at home, if at all. Maybe it was time to talk to him... ''Where's he at?'' She looked at the ceiling accusingly, ''You've gotta give me a break, man. I told you, you know I was gonna tell him... I just needed the time. And I'm going to the fucking doctor in a couple of days for that thing -- I don't want it to fuck me up. I know I took life into my hands and that it was wrong, but don't I deserve a second chance?'' The ceiling didn't talk back. And to think, this was her God. ''Fuck it,'' Amy growled, ''You're no help. And I'll find Darcy myself...''
For such a wannabe hardass, she loved animals more than anything. So, when Amy came through the door and found no sign of Darcy, her chubby black cat came immediately to her aide. He couldn't help her with her bags, but he greeted her with absolutely unconditional love. He didn't care what Lane Stevens had to say, or how many shitty things she'd done with her life before she and Darcy picked him up at the shelter. He rubbed against her leg, meowed and instantly began purring, simply happy to see his mother at home.
I've been praying and doing all of the leg work lately, but it doesn't seem like I'm getting much out of it. In fact, if I'd found out that Darcy wasn't home because he was blowing off steam with another woman, or just renting a moving truck, I'd told myself that I was gonna swear off the Jesus stuff for good. Thankfully, I didn't have to. By the time he got in, I was dead asleep. I'd been calling everywhere for him, and found out that even Johnny wasn't taking my calls. I'd given up completely.
She was home. As much as he didn't feel like confronting the issues and simply wanted to curl up beside her, when Darcy found his wife asleep on their couch with her phone turned on and the yellow pages open beside her, he knew she'd tortured herself waiting for him. She didn't deserve the nightmares her sleep would bring, either... so he went against what might have been the wiser ideas and rubbed her protruding shoulder just enough to jostle her awake. When Amy's eyes opened, she seemed comforted by the immediate sight of her husband. Unfortunately, her memory quickly served her and the tiny redhead coiled away from him, nervous of a reaction to what had happened not six hours ago. ''If you want me out,'' she mumbled, ''I understand. I didn't unpack.'' ''We need to talk.'' While he might not have been as upset as Amy would have guessed, his tone did nothing to ease her worries. ''Trust me, I know we do.'' Amy sat up on the couch and brushed away the debris she'd collected around herself during the few hours of worry, ''But where were you just now? I've been home for a while, they put me on an early flight so I didn't kill him...'' ''I like to show you off, so I went to Boston Pizza with Johnny to watch it... but we left after the second segment,'' he answered her. ''What's important is that I've got some questions of my own that better get the right answers. But what we need to do right now is figure out how we're going to maim Lane Stevens for life.'' The redhead shook her head, ''That's not something you're prepared to do right now. Don't worry about him, 'cause I've got a shot at him in a week. I can start to make him pay,'' she sighed, ''You just keep healing your back, then we'll talk about snapping his limbs off.'' Amy squeezed her eyes shut before he could respond, knowing he'd lash out at the idea of doing anything but healing up at home. ''Please, Darcy. I don't want that fight right now. One step at a time... and right now, I just need to know where we stand.'' ''My back is fine. Or, it isn't getting any better, depending on how you want to look at it. But look - you're my wife, and this isn't even the most fucked up thing you've ever done. As far as where we stand, the only thing that's going to make me furious with you is if you don't let me come back and rip him a new asshole. Now are you with me, or not?'' She heaved a heavy sigh. Darcy was the last person who needed to get involved in the ridiculous war that Stevens was waging, but she could understand where he was coming from. ''Just give me next week, alright? I'll take him alone at the ESPN show, in the stable match. Then we'll talk.'' It appeared Amy wasn't going to budge. Deep down he knew he could only appreciate the concern she had, both for his reaction to the bombshell that had been dropped as well as for his own well-being. But this meant that they now had to confront the ugliness before them, something he wanted to discuss far less than his ambitions to tear a certain bastard apart. He sighed. ''...so when did this happen?'' he finally asked, after several long beats, each containing a near-eternity between them. That was just one of a million hard questions yet to be asked. Amy nodded her head in full recognition of the fact that what she was about to tell him would prompt one of the most loaded questions she'd ever be asked in her lifetime. She tried to seem empathetic, but it wasn't working the way it should have. She couldn't even look him in the eye at first, but forced herself. The mistake was made on her own, so she should've had the balls to give him honesty while looking straight at him. It felt like hauling bricks, but Amy eventually brought her eyes up to meet her husband's as she answered softly, ''Two and a half months after you disappeared.'' Another long, long pause. ''I don't suppose it could have been anybody else's?'' When she answered the next question, no amount of bravery could bring her to look him in the eye. ''He, she... it was yours,'' she sniffled, ''I, I... I'd known for a little while.'' Taking her hand in his own, he covered it with the other. ''It's okay, Amy... you should have told me. You shouldn't have to deal with this all by yourself.'' ''I wanted to tell you, but you were already gone. Last I'd heard, you were in the rainforest somewhere. I freaked and ended up doing blow to the point that I knew either I was gonna end up dead or, at the very least, what I saw as my little 'problem' would be.'' She had tears in her eyes when she finally looked at him, ''Since you've been back, I've tried a thousand times to tell you. I just didn't know how, and now... well... you didn't deserve to have to find out from him.'' Darcy made the move to sit down next to her, hoping it might inspire a little courage. ''I know, I know. You weren't ready... I wasn't- WE weren't ready. The last thing anyone needed was a child coming into this world carrying that kind of baggage.'' Then, he turned to look directly at her, squeezing her hand. ''...but you're absolutely right, I didn't deserve to hear it from Lane Stevens. No one did. And that is why I am very serious when I tell you this. I'll let you take care of him next week. But if I don't see a signed copy of his death certificate, or at the very least a picture of his severed testicles, I'm coming back to deal with what he did to our family.'' Our family. Amy had to smile at that. ''Do I make myself clear?'' ''Crystal.''
1.3. (Popping The Question)
He put the key in the door, but found it already unlocked. That was curious, to say the least - but a kind of relief washed over him when he saw the ridiculous pink, tiger-striped luggage in the entryway.
Not my family, not his family, not our families - but our family, plain and simple. Never in my life had I felt more a part of something. I'd never felt so secure and absolutely solid. And for the first time, I truly felt what being WITH somebody means.
When I found out that not even one of my more dramatic moments had brought my marriage crashing down, I don't think the word 'relief' could have ever been used more appropriately. More than my opinions, more than my peers and more than even my 'God', the man I'm with stands strong beside me through seemingly everything that anybody can throw at us. When I got home from the event, he used some words even more prolific and effective than 'I forgive you' -- he talked about what Lane Stevens had done to 'our family'. OURS.
1.4. (Cutting Your Second Chances) ''Our healthcare here is so much better, so I come to you whenever I'm home.'' She was home mainly to apologize to and take blame from her family, but there was something even more pressing on Amy's mind. A few months before, she'd undergone treatment for a condition called endometriosis, along with two rather nasty ovarian cysts. Basically, there was a whole lot of unwanted growth in and around her reproductive organs. It could have been chalked up to years of abusing her body with substances, or simply really bad luck, but it was something she didn't particularly want to deal with. It had been causing her a lot of abdominal pain - making every punch and knee, soft as they could be, count for so much more in the ring. At that stage of her career, she refused to have the necessary surgery to try correcting it, so her doctor was left giving her a series of medicines to treat it and take the chance that it might simply go away as it was sometimes known to do. But aside from the pain, there was a possible and very real side-effect of having such an infection in that part of your body... ''We need to increase the hormone dosage to keep it back. During the exam, it seemed to be getting better, which is fairly good news. But we're not out of the woods yet...'' ''Can't we just talk about awesome Canadian healthcare?'' Her doctor was a notorious hard-assed old lady, and not the kind to mince words about anything when it came to her patients. She'd treated Amy from infancy, and knew when not to take her shit. ''Your husband should really be a part of this.'' ''One thing I always found nice about Canada was when fall came and suddenly you needed to figure out ways to get warm,'' the redhead grinned, ''Don't you love that, Doctor Berry?'' ''Perhaps you didn't hear me...'' Having been forced to stay on the subject at hand, Amy shook her head, ''We're not having kids yet. He doesn't need this on his plate.'' But the redhead was avoiding the gravity of the situation -- the direness her doctor wouldn't let her forget. '' 'Yet' doesn't factor into this, Amy. If this doesn't improve, you'll lose any chance of having a child when you choose to.'' Sometimes, there are no second chances.
You see, telling the world 'She's being treated for a reproductive problem' isn't nearly as embarassing, unique or dramatic as 'She aborted her own kid during a coke OD that nobody knows about'... so I've still got something. And not something Darcy's very aware of, either. I've got something that I'm trying to keep in Canada. I've been talking to God about it, but what's he done for me lately? If he's even up there, he gave the world Lane Stevens and HASN'T struck him down yet.
Good, bad and ugly - this is our fight. But there's still me -- Me and my secrets.
''Darcy doesn't hate me, my parents don't hate me... they all understand that I fucked up. In my defense, it was way back when I was ALWAYS fucking up - which I think makes it more forgiveable. And they're 'mere mortals', right? So why were you still giving me hell when I went to the doctor, huh? I should've had a clean bill of health.'' She sighed and clasped her hands, ''Look, I don't believe in abortion - you know that. I took a life into my hands and it was wrong. It was against all that stuff you tried getting people to tell me about in church as a kid. I get it, okay? It was messed up.'' With a tear in her eye, Amy released her hands and clutched her stomach. ''But do you have to be doing this to me? It hurts and, aside from that, I might not EVER get a chance to correct my mistake. He wants a baby, and I want a baby... eventually, of course. I can see why you'd take it from me, but him? He deserves to have what he wants and, as fucked up as I might be, you and I both know that he deserves to have it with me.'' ''Seriously, 'God','' she growled, ''You're forgiving and all-powerful, you should be able to help me work on my health. Once I'm done with Lane Stevens and his career, my life is off the public chopping block and I can take some time off to make a family...'' She wasn't getting off that easy, though. Despite her pleading with this concept of God, she knew that she had to make her own fate - but it didn't mean she couldn't take the chance that he was there and ask for a little help. ''No more roadblocks. No more endometriosis, ovarian whatevers and whachamacallits to 'teach me a lesson' about never taking my ability to reproduce for granted. No more stupid shit that keeps me from chopping Lane Stevens in half. I can deal with the regular pains, but I have a match this week - I can't be held up worrying about myself. I can't be worrying whether or not you're gonna be 'kind' enough to let me eventually have a real baby, and there's no way I can tell Darcy that it might not be an option - not so soon. I can't be putting up with this, I need the strength to pummel Stevens. You've put me through enough already, at least let SOME kind of relief wash over me.'' There was no warmth. No relief. No feeling that it might be okay. In fact, she didn't feel much of anything. ''Come on, Jesus...'' With a final, heavy sigh, Aimz looked away from the ceiling. ''I fuck up on my own. I win on my own. I seem to be living, breathing and loving completely by my own will...'' He probably wasn't there. He probably never had been. Hope, however, still held a small candle that something could help ease the constant flow of new problems. ''I don't care if it's this second or a month from now, but I've been a good girl... so just show me you're out there and help me get through.''
1.5. ('Does This Jesus Get ESPN?')
In her parents' home, she was talking to the ceiling once more. It had become a force of habit, but hadn't exactly been paying off. Despite how crazy it felt to do, Amy began confessing to the white tiles.
If God doesn't exist, then I can only pray to hang on for as long as my honesty has bought me.
-Amy
1.6. (Confessionals and Early 90s Metallica) Darcy put down his magazine. They'd been staying at her parents house for a few days, but he didn't know her family's beliefs had gone quite that far. ''And what's he been saying?'' he asked wryly. Amy shook her head, ''Absolutely nothing. That's why I've written that bullshit off. I think the stress I've been under lately pushed me a little too far out of whack. But, I need to tell you...'' She breathed deeply, ''I've got to tell you, I've been seeing my doctor.'' Past mistakes aside, that sentence worried Darcy more than anything he'd heard her say recently. He suddenly sat up straight and grabbed his little redhead by the hand as she crawled into bed, ''Please don't say 'Cancer'...'' ''No. Hell no,'' Amy said, ''But it's not pretty.'' Not cancer. Really, that's all that mattered. ''Are you dying?'' Darcy said, half-jokingly, ''Am I dying?'' ''No and no, bu--'' He pulled her down into his arms in one swift motion, grinning to himself. That girl sure knew how to wind him up in a hurry - she was always so serious and grave about things - but that was just one of many things he adored about her sometimes ridiculous personality. She seemed to be truly bothered by something, but he rested assured in the knowledge that it was more than likely just something she was blowing completely out of proportion. ''Then we're fine,'' he smiled softly, ''The worst has passed, Amy -- no more big secrets or silly assholes trying to make life more difficult. We're in the clear.'' Amy pulled up to protest, but Darcy just hugged her tighter. ''You don't need a diety. You just need to lay back and relax. Stevens tested us, but we didn't break,'' he said, ''So you can sleep knowing that the only thing you need to think about is how you're gonna break him.'' Once again, Darcy smiled. He felt Amy sigh against his chest, knowing she was relieved in a way. Despite the fact that he knew they'd have to discuss this 'doctor' issue in the morning, he bid her to rest for the time being. What Amy didn't know was that, just the same as she'd bribed his doctors to find out about his back problems, her mother had already told him everything. Whether they had a hundred children or none at all, all he really cared about was being able to look back at this and laugh as a 75 year-old man. While she got comfortable, he flicked the bedside light off and enjoyed listening to the silly little grunting noises that the little redhead made when she was adjusting the blankets around herself. He smiled wider, knowing it was true when he said it... ''Nothing else matters.'' This was the strongest either of them had felt in a long, long time. Amy smiled sadly to herself, though - knowing she was about to take a thousand more of Lane's punches to the very heart of her relationship. For some reason, though, she was calm -- for once, fully knowing that they'd get through these tests.
''You deserve to know, I've been talking to God lately.''