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He tore at his short blond hair as he made his way backstage, his gut clenching uncomfortably. He felt sick as he thought about what had just happened mere moments ago... About what *he* had done...
Christian cursed himself aloud, hating the turn he'd taken in his life. His world was literally collapsing around him. His best friend, Chris Jericho, had been steadily drifting away from him - not that he could blame Y2J for that, as he had good reasons for it.
And then, of course, there was *her*...
The blond man was surprised to discover he was actually near tears as he thought about her, about what he'd done to her a few minutes earlier.
He'd really lost it... He'd acted out of sheer passion, snapping past his limit. The rage over the rejection he'd felt from both his friend and the young woman had finally reached the boiling point. And he'd done the unthinkable...
Christian swallowed hard, catching a glance at his reflection as he stepped into his locker room. Damn it, he hated himself at that very moment. He hated what he'd become. Over the course of the last four and a half months, he'd grown so bitter... extremely bitter and full of hatred. He hated Chris for taking her - for taking her *away* from *him*. And he hated *her* for falling for the other man.
Shit... As these thoughts whirled through his mind, he realized that he didn't really hate *her* - he *couldn't*. But by God, she owed him some answers, some explanations. More importantly, however, *he* owed *her* an apology and explanation. He hadn't meant to hurt her, not really. And he despised himself for having done just that.
His mind made up, the blond Canadian exited his locker room, his mind set on one thing and one thing only. He needed to see her.
Forgoing the women's locker room, Christian headed directly for the trainer's room, knowing full well she'd be there. He knew he'd hurt the diva after that vicious clothesline and later applying the Walls of Jericho.
Sheepishly, he ducked into the trainer's room, wincing as he caught sight of her. She made a sound that signified how much pain she was in, and he cursed himself tenfold.
Her eyes were squeezed shut as the trainer was helping her off the examining table, the diva moaning in agony. And then, as he tentatively stepped further into the room, the woman opened her eyes and finally caught sight of him.
Fear and sadness seemed to cross her lovely features for a split second before anger made way. Her brown eyes widened as she reacted to him.
"What do you want?!" she demanded, her tone brittle and icy. "To finish the job?"
Christian flinched, though he didn't blame her for her furious attitude toward him. Lord knew he deserved it. Hell, he deserved a lot worse.
"Trish, please... Let me explain..." he practically begged, his blue eyes sad as they fixed on her.
Trish Stratus glared murderously up at him, incredulous that the man would even have the nerve to come near her after what he'd done.
"Would you leave us alone - please?" he asked, directing the question to the trainer. The man looked at him warily, then eyed the little blonde questioningly.
Trish's face was a mask of displeasure as she nodded, signaling to the trainer that it was okay. The man left, leaving her alone with the blond man... The man with whom she had a history that no one even knew about...
Christian blinked as he looked the tiny blonde over, noting with dismay the way she held one hand to her lower back. He'd really sunk in that Walls of Jericho. He'd seen red, and, in his irrational state at the time, all he'd been able to think of was making her hurt as much as *he'd* been hurting for so long.
"I'm really sorry..." he stammered, his blue eyes on her lovely face. "I know it's not much, but I hope you'll accept my apology."
The Canadian diva narrowed her eyes, a look of disbelief crossing her features.
"Sorry? You're *sorry*?!" she cried. "You tried to cripple me out there! You tried to end my career! And you want me to accept your apology?!"
"Trish, please..." Christian said, nearly choking on his words. "I lost my head... I would *never* mean to hurt you otherwise..."
"Sure..." the little blonde muttered. "Oh, *sure*..." Her eyes welled up just a bit, but she refused to give in to the tears she felt building. "Of all people to hurt me," she continued, the knife twisting in her heart with every word, "you are the *last* person I would expect, Christian... I can't-" She shook her head, unable to complete the sentence as the emotion got the better of her. Then, recovering, "Look, Christian - I'm sick of you. Sick of your whining, sick of your games, sick of you manipulating Chris, manipulating me... Do me a favor - stay away from me!" Her chocolate- brown eyes glared daggers of fire through him one more time before she pushed past him and stormed out of the room - crying out in pain in the process.
Christian stared after her, a tear finally coursing its way down his
cheek.