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"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to come back to Toronto with me today?"
Amy smiled sadly as she took hold of both of Adam's hands as he gripped her tightly. There was such wistfulness in his eyes, she almost felt like crying. He was so sweet and adorable as he asked her the question for about the hundredth time in the last hour.
"I can't," she replied softly. "I have a million things to take care of at home - tedious, but important things. I *want* to, but I can't - not this time, baby."
The tall blond man pouted, and the redhead felt her heartstrings tugging even more demandingly.
"So, I have to wait another two more days before I see you again?" he asked.
"I'm afraid so," she said. She smiled again as she gazed deeply into his eyes. "Don't worry, baby - we'll be together again before you know it. The next two days will go just like that." She snapped her fingers for emphasis, exactly the way Trish had often done during her last heel stint in 2004. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, loving the feel of the kiss as he instantly responded. His hands released hers to enable his arms to wrap securely around her waist, drawing her tightly against him.
Amy's heart pitter-pattered as they continued to kiss, her hands going up to his hair as she thought about just how very much she loved him. In fact, she'd never loved anyone as much as she loved Adam.
"Flight 641 to Atlanta is now boarding in Gate 7B," a voice suddenly announced on the loudspeaker.
"Well, that's me," she said as she reluctantly pulled out of her boyfriend's warm embrace.
"Aww, Amy."
The redhead put a hand out to touch the tall blond man's lips, and he kissed her fingertips. That caused her to laugh softly.
"I love you," Amy said. She leaned forward again to give him a quick kiss. "See you on Friday. Have a good flight."
"You too," he replied. "Love you."
After his girlfriend left, Adam sat back down to wait for his own flight. He wondered where Trish Stratus was, as they often flew back and forth together now that he was again residing in Toronto. He hadn't spoken to her in a couple of days, so he wondered if maybe she was heading back with John Cena to his place in Massachusetts.
A few minutes later, as though on cue with his thoughts, a soft voice spoke.
"Hey... Go figure I should run into you here."
The tall blond man smiled at the petite diva.
"Hi, Trish."
The blonde woman sat beside him, pulling her wheeled suitcase in front of her.
"I was just seeing John off," she said. "So, where's Amy? Is she here with you?"
He pouted and looked down at the floor.
"Not this week... She had some things she needed to do back home, so she took a flight to Atlanta."
Trish eyed her friend silently for a beat. It really was sweet, how much Adam obviously adored the redhead. She was glad they had each other, especially after all the crap each of them had gone through at the hands of their past significant others.
"You really do love her," she spoke, more as a statement than a question.
"Yeah," Adam said, meeting her chocolate-brown orbs, "of course I do." He shook his head, running a hand through his blond hair. "And it's like... I just want to be with her all the time - I wish she hadn't gone back to Atlanta tonight."
"Well, it's only two days," the tiny blonde pointed out. "Sometimes it's good for people to get away from each other, have their space."
Adam didn't know why, but Trish's words somewhat unnerved him. He knew what she was getting at, but he couldn't shake the odd feeling.
*
Amy was glad when she finally arrived at her condo. It was late, and she was exhausted. All she wanted to do was get ready for bed and hit the hay. Before she could do that, however, she had to call Adam. They always called one another on nights they weren't together to say goodnight.
The redhead played the messages on her answering machine as she sorted through her suitcase and got ready for bed. There was a message from her mother, one from Trish, a couple from other friends not emplyed in the WWE, and three hangups.
She wrinkled her nose at the sound of a receiver being hung up, followed by the annoying sound of a dial tone. Why did people bother listening to the entire message on an answering machine if they weren't going to leave a message of their own?
Shrugging it off, Amy retreated to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. She had all the makeup removed from her skin and was just rinsing the toothpaste out of her mouth when her phone rang.
She smiled as she rushed out to answer, as she figured it had to be Adam - he probably got tired of waiting for her to call.
Breathlessly, she picked up.
"Hello?"
There was a bout of dead silence, but she could detect the sound of somebody breathing on the other end. It wasn't Adam - her boyfriend wouldn't not speak for so long.
"Hello?" she repeated, already aggravated.
Finally, the person spoke.
"You bitch... I hope you burn in hell!" a woman's voice screamed, followed by the sound of the receiver being slammed back down on its cradle.
Amy winced as she pulled the phone away from her ear. She hung up, her heart thumping wildly. She was normally not a person who got easily spooked, but there was something about that voice... The hatred in that woman's tone had been so naked and unabashed. This was clearly someone who most likely wouldn't blink an eye if she were to drop dead tomorrow...
... And then, she suddenly realized who the caller had been. She picked the receiver back up and quickly dialed a number.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Adam," she said, noting the sleepiness in his voice. "I just got home a few minutes ago. But there's something... Well, something just happened."
"What? Baby, what's wrong?" he asked, clearly worried. "What happened?"
Amy sighed before answering him.
"I think Lisa just called me."