______________________________________________________
Trish sat huddled almost within herself in the locker room, intense guilt wracking the entirety of her tiny form as her mind worked almost overtime.
She felt so awful about Christian - about what she'd done to him. She knew how deeply in love with her he still was, and yet, she still managed to break his heart - again. How low could she get? It wasn't the first time but the second. Hadn't she learned anything from the past?
The little blonde sighed miserably, her heart breaking. She couldn't keep doing this, couldn't continue lying to herself. She was still in love with Christian. Had she not been, she never would have gone to him the previous night, certainly never would have made love to him.
She bent over, lowering her head to her knees and gripped a handful of her long hair. What was she going to do? She couldn't continue on with this facade of dancing around with Chris Jericho, not when she knew she still loved Christian.
She looked up abruptly, nearly jumping as the door opened and Jericho stepped inside. He was walking quite gingerly, as his knee had been in pretty bad shape lately, thanks to the monster Kane. He hadn't been in action ever since the previous week on RAW when he'd faced The Big Red Machine, but he was still traveling with the RAW roster.
Trish remained still and silent as she glanced up at the blond man. She held her breath as she realized he could see clearly how upset she was. Of course, the next thing would be that he would question her. If that happened, she would have no choice... Hell, she had no choice regardless! She had to say something.
"What's wrong, babe?" the man asked, concern etched on his face. He knelt in front of her, and Trish stiffened, instictively shifting over slightly. Then, Chris' hand was on her face, against her cheek.
She shook her head, not knowing exactly what to say. It would be so hard to explain to him. He didn't know of her past with Christian - no one really did - so, how *could* she explain it?
"It's just... I'm hurting a little, Chris." That really wasn't exactly a lie. The only thing was that her pain was emotional, not physical.
Jericho's hand clenched into a fist.
It's that creepy little bastard, isn't it?"
The little blonde looked up sharply at his words, frowning as she wondered how he'd found out. And then, her heart still pounding hard and fast, she settled down somewhat as she realized he was referring to Christian having put her in the Walls of Jericho the other night.
She couldn't reply.
"Because if you're still hurting because of what he did, I'll tear his damn head off!" the blond man yelled.
Trish winced as she thought about the friendship the two blond men had once shared - how horribly it had deteriorated over the last couple of months, and why? It was all because of *her*. It was *her* fault. How could she have ever blamed Christian for being upset? How could she possibly have done that when she'd always known how he felt about her?
"Oh, sweetie... come here," Chris crooned. He stood up and gently pulled her up with him by her hand, wrapping his arms around her petite form. "I'm sorry you're in pain, baby. I wish I could take it all away."
Despite herself, the blonde woman held onto Jericho as well, but her head swam with visions of Christian - those blue eyes, gazing over her form and gently drinking her in tenderly, his hands, so soft and gentle as they caressed her cheek, her hair, her body, his passionate intensity yet gentleness and generosity as he made love to her... It was all enough to bring tears to her eyes - again.
Trish hated herself at that very moment. She hated herself more than she could have ever imagined possible
- because while she'd promised herself she would talk to Jericho, she kept cursedly silent. And Christian's
sorrow-filled face kept penetrating her thoughts, haunting her.