"We have to talk..." Adam repeated, raking a hand through his long blond hair as he sat up in the bed, and he seemed suddenly incapable of looking at her.

Amy's stomach was suddenly feeling quite knotted, and she realized she was becoming a bundle of nerves.  Usually, when a person said those four words to their significant other, it meant only one thing...

"I think we should cool it..."

The diva suddenly felt faint, and the blood drained from her face as she absorbed what he'd just said to her.

"'C-cool it?'"  She stared at him in shock, her stomach feeling as though the bottom had dropped out of it.

"Yeah, you know, Ames..." the Canadian said as he turned his head to finally look into her face.  "I think we should see other people...I'm not ready for anything serious..."

"What?"  The redhead sat up straight in the bed, and Adam couldn't help the way his gaze lowered to her breasts, which were now exposed as she'd released the blanket when she'd bolted up.  "Adam, you can't...Please tell me you're kidding..."

The blond man forced himself to not swallow visibly as he steeled himself.  It was no easy feat as he took in the naked hurt in her hazel eyes.  She looked about a half-second away from bursting into tears.  The expression on her face, the look of raw fear and anguish she wore, wrenched at his heart.

Nonetheless, he had to continue with this.

"No..." he said.  "I'm not kidding."

Amy stared wordlessly at him for a long moment, biting her lower lip, and he waited with breath held for a reaction.  Then, she threw the blanket completely off of herself and quickly but silently began dressing.

Adam stared at her naked back for a beat, feeling like the world's biggest piece of shit and hating himself for how horribly he was hurting her.

"Angel..."  He reached out and tried to take hold her right arm, but she yanked almost violently out of his grasp.

"Don't touch me!" she cried as she spun around to face him, and his heart nearly broke as he saw the tears all over her face.  God, how terribly he was hurting her.  He tried his darndest not to wince for the sake of keeping up the facade, which was extremely difficult - the redhead looked as though she were being taken apart.

"I can't believe you!" she shouted, her voice surprisingly strong and not choked.  She slipped her shirt back on, gingerly, and eyed him balefully but furiously again.  "I thought you were different."

Without blinking, keeping his facial expression fairly neutral, the tall blond Canadian spoke.  "Well, I guess I'm not..."

"You son of a bitch!" Amy cried, a fresh torrent of tears nearly overwhelming her, and she sobbed for a few seconds before seeminly getting her bearings about her.

Adam's gaze followed the torn redhead as she snatched up her bag, all of her important belongings thankfully already inside.  She marched to the door, was about to leave without another word, but then thought the better of it.

Turning back to stare teary daggers into the man she'd believed to be her soulmate, Amy spoke.

"I thought you were different...I honestly never expected you to do this - not you, Adam...Never Adam Copeland...Never in my wildest dreams would I ever think you, of all people would hurt me - would be capable of hurting me - or anyone like this..."  She raised her left hand to wipe at some stray tears.  "Well, looks like Stephanie and I have too much in common, huh?"

Before Adam could issue a response, the redheaded woman turned her back on him and fled the hotel room.  Surprisingly, she managed not to slam the door on her way out.

The blond man groaned as he lowered his head into his hands, tearing at his long hair, thoroughly disgusted with himself.  Never had he loathed himself more than he did at that moment.

"You stupid bastard..." he cursed himself.  "You've just lost the best thing you ever had in your entire miserable life...Way to go, asshole..."