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The next morning, Amy sat morosely in the passenger's seat of Stacy Keibler's rental car. She was distracted, lost in her thoughts as the tall blonde sat in the driver's seat, steering the car with expert precision.
Neither woman spoke for the longest time as they traveled. They were on their way to the next town, and would stop over at the hotel before heading to the arena.
Stacy glanced at Amy as she braked for a red light, a feeling of sympathy rushing through her as she caught the expression on the other diva's face.
"I know this is probably a really stupid question," the leggy blonde began, "but...are you okay?"
The redhead raised her slightly bowed head to meet Stacy's eyes. "Yeah," she finally said. "I was just...thinking - wondering, actually." She winced, as the bruises she'd received the previous night were still fresh. The one on her waist-rib area was particularly tender. Although Stacy had applied antiseptic to it, it still pulled painfully. And the redheaded diva knew she had a match later that night for the SmackDown taping. Damn it... How was she going to pull that off?
She didn't even know who her partner would be, let alone who her opponents were. She only hoped that, whoever they ended up being, they would all be sympathetic - or at least understanding if she was sluggish in the ring... Not that she was going to tell any of them about her predicament. She'd almost been too ashamed to go to her friend's room the previous night.
"Are you...still aching?" Stacy asked tentatively, wincing as she thought of all the bruises her friend had sustained, all the abuse she'd endured at the hands of the man who was supposed to cherish her. She couldn't even begin to fathom being in Amy's shoes.
"A little," the redhead lied. In actuality, she still hurt quite a lot, and particularly from that one really bad welt. She had to make certain to wear a top that would conceal the damn thing later that night when she had her match. She couldn't afford to let anyone see it. Who knew what might happen if someone did? She didn't want to consider the consequences...
Then, as though reading her thoughts, Stacy said, "You have a match tonight, don't you?"
"Yeah."
"Oh, Amy...Maybe you should ask to be taken out of it," the blonde said, her brown eyes flooded with concern. "No offense, but you're not really in any condition to be wrestling tonight," she continued. "I'm sure Trish could take your place in the match."
"N-no..." The redhead stuttered and looked up at Stacy fearfully. "If I pull out of the match...I'd have to...explain."
"Well, you should explain! You can't let him keep getting away with...this!" She gestured to the bruise on the other woman's face, just on Amy's left cheekbone, where he'd punched her. Stacy had helped her cover it up with concealer, but it was still slightly visible.
The redhead raised a hand to her face, unconsciously pressing it to the bruise. She knew the blonde woman was right, but she was terrified of speaking up...
Who was she kidding? She couldn't even kid herself about this anymore - she was deathly afraid... Amy feared for her life about someone possibly catching on. That was why she refused to speak out against her boyfriend's abuse - she was terrified that, one day, he might actually kill her. Because of that, she would continue to keep silent...