Physical Therapy

I have to admit. Not being with Jon, but being with him was awkward.

It was like a dance, we danced around each other for the last 24 hours. Neither one of us wanting to step on the other’s toes. We avoid each other eyes like two awkward middle schoolers.

I found myself apologizing for brushing up against him, or having the wrong tone. And he did too. It had gotten fucking ridiculous at night though, he slept in my bed with me but we both might as well have sleeping on the ground. I have never slept so on edge before.

That’s how all Sunday was too, so I knew I needed to cut it the fuck out.

“Can we go for a run this afternoon?” I asked as he was busy marinating the fancy, free-range turkey breasts he had been talking about for the past 15 minutes like he was Martha fucking Stewart. He told me that he found the recipe on the Pinterest, how did he even know what Pinterest was?

“You can’t do physical stuff, doctor says.” Not even looking up from the turkey.

“Can we power walk then? Please?” My irritation bubbling out in my voice, he finally looks up at me, glancing from under his eyelashes. I threw a pouty face in his direction, sticking out my lower lip especially far.

“Power walking, NOT running?” Making it clear he won’t tolerate any insolence on this excursion.

I leaped up and sprinted into my room, it was a beautiful day and maybe getting outside would break the tension between us.

“Take it easy!” He barked after me.

“YES MOM.” I called back and laughed.

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I only live 6 city blocks from Lake Michigan and the lakefront trail so it was a quick, but silent walk to the lake.

We reached the path and I just stared at the lake, this was the reason I chose this place for my condo, and not Wicker Park like Phil.

“I love this city.” I said, it took my breath away.

“Yeah, this is a pretty killer view.” Jon stood behind me, his hands on his hips, mimicking mine, “Are we going north or south? “

“South, I don’t think we have ever walked down by Navy Pier when it’s been this nice out?” I tilted my head making sure he was okay with this.

“Sure, works for me.” He swept his hand in front of me, as motioning for me to take the lead.

We walked in silence until Oak Street beach and I couldn’t handle it anymore, it came flowing out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Why did you do it?” I asked, still looking ahead, knowing that if I looked him I would lose it.

“You want to talk about this right now? Out in public?”

I looked around, “We are alone, nobody has recognized you, and yes, I want to talk about it right now. Please?” The please came out soft, I felt like I was begging him, but I finally wanted some answers. He sighed deeply and ran his hand through his hair, like he always does when he is nervous, or deep in thought.

“Which part first?”

“Just start with the girl, why her? Why?” I glanced at him and I could see that his jaw was locked and his shoulders were locked, like he was trying to psyche himself up for this.

“I missed you, we had just fought the night before, do you remember that?” I nodded my head, I didn’t even count it as a fight, just a casual disagreement, something normal for couples. “And you said something that I just couldn’t shake, ‘I don’t know how I put up with you’. You said that and it was in my head.”

“I was kidding, it was-“

“I know you were teasing, but you were annoyed with me, we were both aggravated and I started to think, how long until you couldn’t put up with me anymore? Honestly, I started to believe that I wasn’t good enough anymore, I mean I never thought I was good enough but I had convinced you at that point that I was-and I thought that maybe had worn off at that point.”

He looked at me, I stared ahead and nodded, letting him know that I was following what he was saying.

“And then you know, we had a live event and then there was like a end of the tour party at the hotel where the rest of us were at. And someone, I think it was Stephen, said something like he couldn’t believe my hot girlfriend didn’t dump me yet and I was a complete asshole. So I proceeded to get obliterated, taking shots, pounding beers. This is going to sound awful, but I don’t even remember her name, or what she really looked like. I remember kissing her, and then I remember her blowing me behind a plant and calling me Dean and asking if I wanted to go up to her room.” I flinched when he described it in enough detail that I could picture it, as though I was watching it, “I pushed her off of me, and told her to get lost and I went up to my room to sleep it off. I got up in the morning and I felt like shit when I realized what happened, I went downstairs and Randy was there and some other guys. No one brought it up, they just sat there, they all love you, and glared at me.”

I wanted to cry. I hated him in this moment, but I wanted to hear the rest. “So then what happened?” I had to hear the part that I was dreading, the part that made me hate him more than anything.

“Randy asked me why I am such an asshole? And then he laughed, and the asshole, he fucking thanked me. Told me that now he could bang you, you were hot and traveling with him, so he said it was only a matter of time before he stuck his 'viper' in you. That he would send me pictures of his dick in you to let me know that he took what was mine.”
I could tell talking about it made him livid, his voice was strained and the vein on the side of his head was bulging out a little.

“I got in his face, told him that you would never do that with him, even when you found out what I did, he wasn’t near good enough for you. And then he told me he was sure you got around, you seemed like a dirty slut, you had to be to be with me. And I snapped. I told him that if he ever said another word about you I would rip his tongue out, that you were a rape survivor and the farthest thing from what any of them at that table thought you were, you were innocent, good, and better then any of us. Then I left, I grabbed my bag and left.”

“Randy was the one who told Phil.”

He turned his head and looked at me like I was speaking in tongues.

“What a fucking asshole, manipulating the situation, fucking douchebag.”

A biker rode by us, nearly clipping Jon as he passed.

“Hey you motherfucker watch where the fuck you are going or next time I will beat the shit out of you.”

“HEY!” I yelled at him, pulled his hand and pulled him towards a bench, forcibly sitting him down before sitting next to him.

“You need to calm the fuck down,” I set my hand on his, he was gripping a knee with each hand, it seemed like he was about to pop the kneecap off. “Seriously, I am going to start fucking with my nose unless you calm down right now.”

That seemed to work, he stared at me. “Don’t touch your nose, it needs to heal.”

I laughed a little, “I won’t, I promise. I just needed to bring you back.”

He nodded in understanding. “So now you know.”

“So now I know.”

I didn’t know how to feel about this, I didn't have time to process any of what he had just said, but I pulled him up by the hand and didn’t let go. We walked back to my condo, hand in hand.

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Okay so his turkey that he grilled was fucking fantastic.

“Seriously, Pinterest did not lead you astray. I could eat like 10 of those.” I contemplated having a second one, but sometimes Vicodin made me nauseous, so I didn’t want to take the chance.

He blushed slight, holy shit, I don’t think I have ever seen him blush like that.

“Thanks, I made extra and portioned them out, so you shouldn’t have a problem eating for the next few days.” He sent me a look that sent the message loud and clear, you are eating from now on.

I nodded back in agreement, I would eat. I would heal better, faster, if I ate.

We didn’t talk about the walk, or the talk for the rest of the night. We watched Game of Thrones on my couch and debated Jon Snow’s lineage until I started to fall asleep.

He insisted on carrying me to my bed, and started to walk out.

“Are you not sleeping in here tonight?”

“Do you want me to?” He asked, genuinely sounding surprised, and I guess I shouldn’t have been either, he let me know, he probably expected me to hate him.

“Yes,” I threw back the comforter on what had become his side over the past few months, “Climb in.”

I kept my back to him, the same position we had slept in the past two nights.

“Are you nervous about RAW tomorrow?”

We hadn’t talked about RAW yet, this was his solo debut, tomorrow night was going to be a huge moment in his career.

“Not at all, actually.” He laughed his low laugh, “I am more nervous about laying in the bed with you.” And we both laughed.

The next morning he insisted on taking a cab, he had returned the rental early Sunday morning, but he insisted that I not drive him. Somehow he said that my nose would interfere with my driving and then the vicodin’s impairing me. I initially insisted on no drugs, but that was met with a stern look.

I would be lying if I said that once he was gone from my condo that I didn’t miss him. I did, a lot. I didn’t know how I felt, or if I just wanted to be his friend, or what. But I missed his company. I missed catching him looking at me, I missed his little smirk.

Made it to the airport, all checked in.

Anyone recognize you yet?

Yep, plenty. How’s the nose?

It itches.

Do. Not. Touch. The. Nose. Attached to a selfie of him pointing at the camera with his “serious” Dean Ambrose face on.

I returned a selfie, of me touching my nose with one finger, just touching the tip, a big grin across my face.
Touching.

You are a bad girl.

I am.

Flight’s boarding ☹

Have a safe flight…will you call me when you get to the hotel after RAW?

Sure? Will you be watching tonight?

Yep, Colt’s coming over and sure? Yes. I want you to call, so please call, I will stay up. Good luck tonight, bub.

I hoped his pet name wouldn’t go unnoticed. I know he caught the flirting. And I know that it was bad of me, I was leading him on when I had no idea what I really wanted. I hadn’t really processed what he told me yesterday, and I knew I would have to at some point.

But for an hour at 10am on a Monday morning, I was happy. Genuinely happy.