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Amy gazed across the table into Adam's green eyes, a tenderness sweeping through her as she listened to him.
After meeting him outside of the hotel, the two of them had gone a couple of blocks away to a nearby diner. Although she wasn't really hungry, the redhead had ordered a sandwich and a cup of chamomile tea. She felt as though a cold were coming on, as she'd noticed a slight soreness starting in her throat when she'd returned to the hotel. Likewise, her nose was quickly becoming stuff, and she was thankful she had tissues in her purse.
"I couldn't talk to anyone else about this..." the blond man said, his gaze lowered to the table. He raised his eyes back up to meet hers. "You're the only one I could go to... And I know you would understand." He was silent for a beat as he regarded her. "Hey, are you all right?"
Amy lowered her hand that held the tissue, then nodded. She felt a sneeze coming on, but then, just as quickly, it was gone.
"I think I caught a cold," she explained.
"Aww, that sucks..."
"It's okay," she assured him, waving her hand in his direction. "Go on with what you were saying."
"Yeah..." Adam said, then raked a hand through his long blond hair. He looked up as a waitress suddenly appeared. "Oh, hold on..."
"Can I get you guys something to drink?"
Amy politely said 'no thank you,' but the tall Canadian ordered a beer.
When the waitress was gone, the redhead regarded her former boyfriend with concern.
"You're getting *more* booze?" Although she hadn't actually seen him drinking earlier in the night, she'd known he'd done so - she'd been able to smell the beer on his breath when they'd met up.
"Yes..." came the firm response. And then, as though keeping in time with the events of the very moment, their waitress returned with a beer glass and a bottle of Budweiser, which she placed before Adam.
Amy watched, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, as the Canadian poured the alcoholic beverage into the glass. She didn't miss the way he licked his lips as he performed this task. To her, it was obvious that he'd developed a problem over the course of the last several months. And at the same time, she knew he would deny such a thing without hesitation. But the person with the drinking, gambling, drug, or whatever problem was always the last to know...
She swallowed hard, as it hurt her to see the man with whom she was still in love spiraling downward. She felt her eyes watering, but it wasn't even due to her sudden dampened mood - she was feeling sicker by the minute.
Adam folded his hands on the table before him.
"The thing is," he began, a somewhat sheepish look coming to his handsome face, "I'm a little nervous about getting too physical in the ring - since my neck surgery and everything."
The redhead blinked, her heart softening as she absorbed his words, took in the expression on his face.
"I admit, I'm afraid of taking too many risks out there," the blond man continued. "I'm afraid I'll knock something out of whack, and..." He shook his head, his green eyes sad. "... and my wrestling is suffering now because of it."
Amy kept her hazel gaze on his face, her lips parting as she nodded in understanding. She could definitely relate and empathize with his plight.
"I know how you feel," she admitted. "I had the same apprehensions when I returned back in September - and I still do."
"You do?"
"Yeah," the redhead said as she wiped at her nose with a fresh tissue. "But I push all of those fears aside when I step into that ring. It's what you *have* to do."
"I suppose..." the tall blond Canadian said half-heartedly, a somewhat sad expression forming on his countenance. The thing that perturbed him the most about this current feeling was that he was insecure and uncertain - and he was not used to such emotions. He was full of self-doubt, and it was something new, but definitely most unwelcome. He wished he could go back to the way he'd been before, to being basically carefree, throwing caution to the wind. That was how he'd always conducted his wrestling during the era of the ladder and TLC matches he'd competed in - but damn it, he couldn't conduct himself so freely and carelessly now, and not ever again. Breaking his neck had changed him forever - physically *and* mentally.
Amy eyed him sympathetically, a warmth rushing through her. At the same time, she wished she were back at her hotel room, because she definitely didn't feel well.
"Are you sure you're all right, Ames?" the Canadian asked. He winced as he watched her raise a hand to her brow. She seemed to be in pain, as though she now had a headache.
"I think I need to lie down," she replied.
"Okay... I've got the bill..." He raised a hand and gestured to the
waitress.