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*November 2001*
She swallowed hard, her gaze fixed on the two people standing way up front - at the altar.
Amy Dumas felt her pulse racing as she blinked, hoping beyond anything that the tears wouldn't come. By God, this had to be the single worst day of her entire life.
He was getting married - to someone else - one of her friends and one of their co-workers, no less. There wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. Well, she *could* stand up and speak out when the priest asked if anyone had cause to wish the two not be joined together - but she knew she didn't have the guts to do that.
'Okay, breathe... Breathe!' she told herself, as she was seconds away from hyperventilating. She'd never felt more alone than she did at that very moment. She and Matt had finally broken up a mere two weeks earlier - and in all honesty, it had nothing to do with the fact that she knew she was in love with the man up at the altar - the *groom*.
It was sheer torture for her. That question, those profound words issued forth, and she held her breath again, wanting more than she'd ever wanted *anything* to stand up and open her mouth...
... But she didn't. She just sat there like a wooden board and didn't utter so much as a peep.
"I now pronounce you husband and wife... You may kiss the bride."
Although the redhead wanted to look away and not witness what was about to happen next, she kept her gaze on him. A bright grin came to his sharply handsome face, and then he raised his new wife's veil, and they kissed.
Amy felt devastated. How would she ever be able to go on with her life after *this*? Her heart was broken, and she knew it would be a long, long time before she would be able to move on.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The reception was pure hell for her. She'd hardly been able to eat a single thing on her plate, and the fact of the matter was that she was feeling quite nauseous.
She pushed away the plate of barely touched cuisine, the urge to vomit hitting her harder by the second.
Jeff Hardy, one of her best friends, who'd served as her date for the wedding, turned to her.
"Ames, are you-" The young man never had a chance to finish his question as she ran from the table to rush to the nearest ladies room.
Amy was so grateful for the complete emptiness of the bathroom that she let it all out. A broken sob escaped her as she ran into a stall at the far end, locking herself inside.
The not-so-distant memory of him - the man she loved - kissing *her* was burned in her brain. She felt positively sick. It should have been *herself* he was kissing. Her and *only* her! And was it really so wrong that she suddenly hated the woman who'd just married him?
She raised her hands to her head, the tears now streaming down her face in droves as her cries went near-silent. And then, she lost it and smashed her fists into the stall door. It hurt like hell.
She thought she was going to be sick... And sure enough, she *was*. She hastily turned to face the toilet, stomach heaving, and the small bit of contents spilled forth. She continued to retch even when there was nothing left, broken sobs accompanying it.
All of a sudden, Amy froze, the back of one hand wiping at her mouth. Had she imagined that? No, someone had entered the ladies room and was knocking on her stall's door. Oh, God... *Who* was it?
"Amy? Amy, I know that's you. Are you okay in there?"
A half-sigh came to the distraught redhead at the sound of the voice. It was Trish Stratus - her best friend in the WWF divas' locker room. Swallowing hard again, making up her mind, she opened the door.
Trish gasped as she got a look at Amy. She was about to question her friend as to what was wrong, but the redhead pulled her into the stall with her. Quickly, she flushed the toilet. But Trish had seen...
"Oh, my God... Are you *pregnant*?" the little blonde asked in a whisper. Her brown eyes were wide, as she knew Amy and Matt had just broken up. She continued to speak, but the redhead shook her head.
"No... no, I'm not," came the reply. "It's just that... Oh, God... my life is *over*!" she moaned miserably. She buried her face in her hands as she cried again.
Trish winced and put a hand on the taller woman's shoulder.
"Amy, what on earth is wrong?"
"*Everything*..."
Trish blinked uncomprehendingly, completely unclear as to what had her best friend so horribly upset.
"What is this all about?" she asked softly. "I want to help, I really do, but-"
"I'm in love with Adam," Amy blurted in a whisper, and her eyes filled to the brim with fresh tears.
The little blonde's mouth flew open, the shock hitting her full force.
"You're in love with-" She stared at the other diva for a moment, then shook her head. "My God, did you ever *tell* him?"
Amy shook her head miserably.
"I was always with Matt, and then he started dating... you know." She couldn't bring herself to speak the bride's name. And again she was overwhelmed by tears and sobs. "I didn't say a damn thing to him, and now it's... it's too late! I missed my chance, Trish... Damn it, I *missed* my chance!" Her slender shoulders shook with even harder sobs as her heart broke even more.
"Oh, God..." Trish breathed, and she gathered the redhead in her arms for a hug. "I'm so sorry, Amy... I'm so
sorry."