Page 60 of Heartbreaker
“What are you doing?” Warm hands fall on my shoulders, and he kisses the top of my head. We spent all of yesterday wrapped in each other, making up for the time we’d spent apart, but that meant I had work to do when I woke up this morning. I left him wrapped in the sheets to get some work done in preparation for Wrestlefest next week. This year, I’ll be facingLyla Santiago, the former female commentator who recently returned to the company while Scott Harrington was on a short leave of absence. This will be the first of two big matches between us. The story is dumb, revolving around me confrontingLylafor saying some not-so-nice things about me on air, but it keeps me on television, and that’s all I care about at the moment. Was it common for commentators to get involved in a storyline? No, but they wanted to do something drastic in welcoming her back to the company.
Not long after I joined the corporate faction—TheCorporation—three years ago, alongsideChelsea,Colin,Nohea Nokoa,Asher Slade, and laterTheo, I won the women’s title for a second time. What can I say? Going along with their ideas had some perks, including becoming the longest-reigning EWE Women’s Champion. Two years ago, I surpassedJuliet’s record of two hundred and seventy-three days, and moments before I was set to break the record,Moxiereturned to answer my challenge, ready to dethrone me seconds before I could make history. I retained my title and cemented my name in the history books. Almost two months later, at the June premiere event, High Voltage, I lost the title toCali“The Diamond”Kennedy—or Callista Kennedy, daughter of Clarence Kennedy and Holly Graham, two EWE legends. Since then, it’s been random matches here and there, but no big storylines, so when they presented the one with Lyla, I latched onto it.
“Going over some stuff for next weekend,” I say, craning my neck to look up at my boyfriend. John stares at the screen where I’ve been watching some of Harper’s old matches, since she will be ringside to aid Lyla. “I’m glad you’re here, though, because we need to talk aboutthisweekend.”
“This weekend?”
A week from today marks the fifth year since my debut, but that’s not what we’re meant to be celebrating. No, this weekend, we’re celebrating John’s decade-long tenure with the company. He made his official debut on April 4, 2005, against none other than “The Great”Fata, and while John wasn’t exactly a fan favorite in the beginning, I think it’s safe to say that’s no longer true. He was out of town on the actual anniversary, so the plan is to celebrate when everyone is home, but it’s been like pulling teeth to get him to sit down and talk to me about it.
“Is this about my tenth? Savannah, I told you—”
“John, this is a big deal. It’s your tenth anniversary with the company! Why don’t you want to celebrate that?”
“I don’t need some big, elaborate party or whatever. I’d be happy with just you, me, and a nice dinner.” He plants a quick peck on my lips and smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Something is bothering him, and it’s not just this anniversary discussion. I noticed it yesterday, too. The distant look in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking. The way his smile barely lifted the corners of his lips before he forced it to. “Hell, we can even make dinner here. I’d be perfectly fine with that, too.”
“What if we do dinner here and we invite—”
“I don’t want to, Savannah!” The outburst shocks me, and I swallow back the rest of my sentence. John deflates, his shoulders falling with a heavy sigh, and he pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t want any of it, Sav. I just…Just let it go.” His eyes meet mine from across the room. “Please.”
“Okay, if that’s really what you want…I’ll let it go,” I say, forcing my jaw to unclench. I don’t want to make this a bigger fight than it is. I don’t need to. It’s not my party, it’s not my anniversary, it’s his. And if he really doesn’t want to do something, then we won’t. “But if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
John stares at me for a moment longer, and without another word, he exhales and walks out of my office.
I heave the brown paper bag onto the island and pull a wine bottle from the wine cooler John had installed in the island base not long after I moved in. Was it completely necessary? No. Am I a fan, regardless? Yes, yes, I am.
I spent more time than I anticipated working before Rae called to ask if I wanted to meet for some ring time. She returned from Salt Lake City last night, and I knew she was dying to share all the details. While I wanted to hear everything, I also knew getting in the ring would be a good way to rid the leftover tension I felt after whatever that was this morning.
Something is bothering John. That much is obvious, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out what. There’s no way the idea of having a small get-together with our friends elicited that kind of response. Something else is going on, and I have every intention of figuring out what…starting with take-out from his favorite restaurant.
The front door opens and closes in the distance. His footsteps echo through the quiet house as I pop the cork from the bottle. Filling only the bottom of the glass, I lightly grip the base and move it in slow, circular motions. The dark ruby liquid swirls, and the legs bleed down until the puddle forms again. I inhale the aromas of black cherry, vanilla, and oak before taking a small sip. He shuffles into the kitchen, still dressed in his gym clothes, but doesn’t say anything as I pour a generous amount into two glasses. Lifting mine to my lips, I stare at him over the rim and wait.
Downcast eyes finally meet mine, and the moisture behind them almost breaks my resolve. He blinks it away and swallows the tension in his throat before he takes a breath and steps up to the island. “I’m sorry.” I don’t say anything in return. I’ve learned that it’s best to let him get it all out before I jump in. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you earlier. You—You’re just trying to do something nice, and I—I know I was being an asshole. You’re right, it is a big deal, and I didn’t mean to belittle that, or make you think I was belittling it. I’m not, I’m ecstatic about it. I’m grateful for it, but I’m just not in the mood to celebrate…Not right now.”
“We don’t have to do anything outside of dinner tonight if you don’t want to,” I say.
“But you—”
“I want to do whatyouwant, John.” With a cautious step forward, I leave a small space between us, but he takes my hand, pulling me the rest of the way. “This is your anniversary, not mine. And if this is all you want, that’s fine with me. I’m sorry for being pushy.” I smile, letting my fingers caress the side of his face, and catch his eye. “However,” I draw out. “I want you to tell me what’s bothering you.”
His blue eyes widen. “What?”
“John, something is bothering you. Try as you might, you’re not very good at hiding it,” I say.
He takes a step back, just out of my reach, and scrubs a hand down his face. “I, uh…I got a call from Ari.” That doesn’t sound so bad. “Yesterday, right before I picked you up, she called to tell me that our father asked about me.”Their father…What the hell? The question must be written clearly on my face because John scoffs, nodding. “I guess…I guess she’s been meeting up with him recently. The most recent time was Sunday, and he asked about me. Asked her if I’d be open to meeting with him. I don’t…This man kicked me out at seventeen and told me not to come back if I couldn’t man up and stop chasing stars. He’s the same one who packed up and left the day my sister turned eighteen. Now, he wants to try to mend fences out of the blue.”
“Why didn’t he reach out to you himself?” I ask.
“He doesn’t have any way to contact me. That’s why Ari told me, because he asked for my number, but she wouldn’t give it to him without talking to me first.”
“What do you want to do?” I ask after a moment.
“I don’t know. And I feel terrible that I took this out on you, because you don’t deserve that, Sweetheart. You were trying to do something nice, and I—I was an asshole. I had just gotten home, just gotten you back, and the last thing I wanted to think about was Leeland Cabot. I planned on telling you this morning, but then—”
“We started talking about the anniversary.” I sigh and close the space between us, draping my arms over his shoulders, loosely threading my fingers together. “I think you should go meet him.” John’s gaze snaps up from the floor, brow furrowed. He starts to argue, but I interrupt him. “You’ve never gotten closure, John. Everything that happened between you and your dad is still an open wound. I’m not saying you have to forgive him or even be okay with his reasoning, but at least you can close the door on this once and for all. You can try to move on.”
“I have moved on.”
“Your reaction to this news says otherwise.”
