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Punk looked up sharply at the sudden feel of someone sinking onto the couch beside him. Naturally, it was Maryse, who offered him a big smile as she curled her legs under herself in a graceful manner.
"So, we go rollerblading tomorrow then, no?" her heavily-accented voice spoke.
The man felt momentarily confused but then remembered their conversation from earlier in the day. Inside, he was groaning. He didn't know the first thing about rollerblading, and frankly, he was surprised Edge would, either.
Uncomfortably, he shifted somewhat, half-coughing and half-clearing his throat.
"Um, well... No."
"No?" the blonde echoed, her pretty face contorting into a pout. "Why not?"
"Well, I..." Punk stammered as he tried to concoct a reasonable excuse. "... See, the thing is, I..." He cast his gaze down for a beat, hating for once that he was so bad at lying. Of all the times to have difficulty in it, now had to be just about the worst time! "I'm not really feeling that well." There, that was a great excuse. He only hoped the statuesque diva would buy it.
"Oh... What iz zee matter?" Maryse's slim left hand wended its way up and into his hair, and she affectionately tousled it.
"Err... I think I might be coming down with a cold." That one might actually suffice in preventing the blonde from trying to jump his bones later, when they went to bed... Or so he hoped. Yes, Maryse was a gorgeous woman and yes, he was a perfectly normal red-blooded male, but damn it, he wanted to remain faithful to Ashley. It seemed a most unlikely phenomenon, given the situation, but he really, really wanted to stick to his principles.
"Oh, no... Should I be your nurse?" the woman asked. She stood up and over him, and he grew slightly nervous again. What exactly did she have in mind? If she was hiding a 'naughty nurse' outfit somewhere, his resolve could very well crumble away.
"What do you mean?"
Maryse gave him an incredulous look. She almost seemed insulted as she replied.
"I'll take care of you, zat's what I mean!" she exclaimed. "Here, I'll make you zome tea." With that, she turned and scurried off into the kitchen.
Punk was half-relieved and half-surprised at once. Maryse wanted to take care of her man when he was sick... It was actually very sweet. He never would have taken her for the type of woman to be nurturing.
And then, he shook his head to rid himself of those tender thoughts about a woman that wasn't his. Besides, she thought he was Edge. If she knew I was really CM Punk, she would probably throw the scalding hot tea in my face! he thought.
However, he had more pressing issues in mind. Maryse was busying herself in the kitchen, and she was even singing. She didn't have a particularly good voice, and in fact, Punk swore that Jillian Hall's was better. But the point was that she was occupied and probably would be for at least several minutes. He decided to slip outside and take a chance at doing something that had been on his mind ever since that morning, in the hotel restaurant.
He flipped open the cell phone that was still clipped to his belt hook, not hesitating for a second. Hastily, he punched out Ashley's cell phone number and pressed the device against his ear. The fact that his heartbeat was going in triple-time was not lost on him.
*
Ashley awoke suddenly to the sound of her cell phone ringing. She was on the couch, the TV still on and playing some infomercial. Pushing aside her feeling of disorientation, she grabbed the phone, answering without seeing who was calling first. Besides, she was certain it was Punk.
"CM? Is that you? Where the hell are you?" she asked, partly annoyed, worried and relieved all at once.
"Ash... Hi," the voice spoke on the other end.
The blonde frowned and removed the phone from her ear to check the number on the display. It was one she'd never seen before, certainly not belonging to her boyfriend.
"Who is this?"
"I... I know this is gonna sound crazy," the man said, following that with a sigh. "Ashley, it's me... It's CM."
She frowned again, and outrage filled her as she realized she now recognized that voice. Her jaw dropped with shocked surprise. What the hell did he want from her? It was like he was suddenly weirdly obsessed with her!
"You're a liar!" Ashley cried. "You need help!"
"Please... Please let me explain!" he begged.
It almost threw the diva off that she thought she could actually hear a bit of desperation in his voice. But she wouldn't give in just because of that... She refused to.
"This needs to stop, Edge!" she exclaimed, angry. "I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play, but I won't be a pawn in it!" With that, she moved the cell phone away from her ear and pressed the button that ended her calls.
She was seething. Yet, she was still frantic over Punk. Where could he have gone?
*
Sadly, the Straightedge man made his way back into the house. Luckily, Maryse was still in the kitchen - and, evidently by her singing, she hadn't moved from there while he'd been outside. It really made no difference to him, though.
Punk headed forlornly to the master bedroom, where he climbed into bed. All he wanted was to pull the
blanket up over his head and cry.