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Trish twisted her hands uncomfortably as she made her way down the hallway and approached the door. She took a deep breath as she knocked, hoping she wouldn't appear at all conspicuous when she saw them.
The door opened, and Jay, who'd come to RAW that particular night to be with his wife in spite of having a back injury, answered and peered out at her.
"Hey, Trish."
The little blonde tried to contain her nervousness as she greeted her friend. She tried to peek into the locker room for any sign of Amy, but it seemed the redhead wasn't even there. She gestured with one hand, pointing.
"Hey, Jay... Is Amy around?" she asked. "I came here looking for her."
"She went to catering... Is there anything *I* can help you with?" he asked.
"No..." She smiled, hoping her nerves wouldn't show but doubting they would. It hurt her heart a little, but her fellow Canadian was definitely more on the clueless side. "... I really needed to ask her something. You know how it is," she said, shrugging for emphasis, "girl stuff."
"Ahh, gotcha," the short-haired man said with a small nod. "I don't need to hear about that stuff." He laughed heartily.
Trish shifted her dark eyes downward for a beat, regret coursing through her. This really wasn't a good position for her to be in, being the one person besides now Adam's ex-wife knowing about the whole situation. She hoped she would be able to keep herself in check as she raised her gaze back to the man's blue orbs. "Well, thanks, Jay. I guess I'll see you later." She turned around with the intention of making a beeline to catering when her friend's voice called back to her.
"Trish?"
The tiny blonde woman turned, forcing a smile on her face as she eyed him.
"Yes?"
Jay cocked his head slightly to one side.
"Are you okay?" he asked.
"Oh... Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. She cast in her mind for a quick second, then decided to stick with the 'girl stuff' she'd mentioned seconds earlier. "It's just that I have cramps and I wanted to ask Amy if she has any Midol or anything."
The Canadian man held his hands out and made a sound like throat-clearing.
"Err... Okay... That's too much information. Go talk to my wife!" He chuckled as he ducked back inside the locker room.
Trish watched the door close behind him and pressed her lips tightly together. She really hated lying to him, and being stuck in the middle of this affair. If only she'd never gone after Adam and been such a concerned friend... If only she'd never insisted he pour it all out to her... If only...
... The if onlies in her mind were endless. But it was too little too late for that. She was in the predicament she was in, knowing too much and being in between. And lord only knew what she would do if Jay ever found out the truth.
She reached catering and instantly saw the redhead inside, sitting at a tiny table alone, eating a sandwich. She watched her for a beat, Amy's profile visible to her. The other woman raised a bottle of spring water to her lips, took a few quick sips and then, becoming aware that she was the object of someone else's scrutiny, turned her head. She smiled the instant she saw Trish.
"Amy..." The blonde walked over to the table and sat down across from her friend. "... Jay told me you were in here. I... I need to talk to you - it's important."
Catching the serious tone in the other diva's voice as well as the expression on her face, Amy frowned. What could this be about?
"Okay... Well, I'm here."
Trish glanced around the room - there were very few people here, and no one seemed to be paying any attention to them or even all that near them. Regardless, she made sure her voice was reduced to the softest whisper.
"Actually, Adam sent me... *He's* really the one who needs to speak to you - and it's urgent."
The redhead glanced up sharply into the blonde's face. All of a sudden, her heart was thundering like a cannon. She felt her face suddenly feel too warm, as well. She raised her free hand to her brow as she spoke in the softest tones possible
"I won't be able to see him tonight," she said simply. "Not with Jay around. It'll have to wait until Friday." She shook her heart, feeling hotter by the second, and she hoped she wouldn't pass out. Sure, she'd of course known that Trish knew about her and the tall blond man - the Canadian diva had known she was in love with Adam for the last two years - but now that they had been having this secret relationship, it just felt strange to actually be speaking about it with her.
"I don't think it's a good idea to not talk to him," Trish whispered, surprising even herself in the process. To Amy, it probably seemed as though she were encouraging their affair. She considered just saying, 'Torrie knows,' but she knew it wasn't her place - especially when Adam had insisted *he* had to talk with Amy about it.
All of a sudden, the redhead was no longer hungry. The food she was chewing felt gummy and unappetizing, and she had to literally force herself to swallow. She couldn't deal with this, not now, and certainly not here. There were too many people around. But unless Jay slept all through the night, she couldn't meet Adam until the weekend houseshows... And since he'd injured his back in the steel cage match against Chris Jericho, he hadn't gotten a really good night's sleep. His sleep was now fitful and tormentous. She cursed that he'd insisted on coming with her tonight to RAW and wished - and selfishly, not only for *his* sake - that he'd stayed home like he should have.
Amy stood up and balled the remainder of her sandwich in its wrapping, picking up the bottle of water with her other hand. Trish stared up at her, her mouth slightly open as though wondering what she was going to do.
"I'll talk to him when I get the chance," the redhead assured her. "Thank you." Then, without another word, she headed for the exit, tossing her wrapped sandwich into the trash can on her way out. She bit her lip as she headed down the hallway, her heart pitter-pattering. She felt somewhat guilty... She found herself wishing Jay hadn't come with her tonight so she could be with Adam. She wondered what he had to tell her but guessed it could wait until Friday.
As she passed locker rooms, she stopped briefly in front of the one she knew he was using that night. The door was closed,
and she placed her right hand on it, her pulse throbbing audibly in her temples as she considered knocking. The urge quickly
passed - she knew it wasn't a good idea. Not now, and certainly not here. Her mind made up, the redhead kept on walking.