The Game Begins

Chapter 1

Hi my name is Stephanie McMahon, and I've been married to Triple H now for over a year, and quite frankly I'm bored to tears. The guy does nothing but eat, sleep and live wrestling. They call him "The Game", well let me tell you, the guy has no game where it counts (you know what I'm sayin' ladies?) I know, I shouldn't be complaining since I am co-owner of the biggest wrestling entertainment company in the world, but for Christ's sakes, live a little. I guess looking back I felt pressured into marrying him. Don't get me wrong, for a while there our little fling was fun and exciting. We spent so much time together rehearsing our storylines, it was inevitable a little romance would ensue. Although no one in the family really approved of my ever dating a wrestler, Triple H was different. He was, and is, WWE wrestling. My dad respects not only his athletic ability in the ring, but also his ability to captivate an audience, to deliver a flawless monologue, to become larger than life at any time, and manage backstage altercations when they occur. All great qualities, but none of this actually translates into husband material. Unfortunately for me, he is now so intertwined in the family business and in our own personal lives, it would be almost impossible to get rid of him. My mom thinks he's the greatest thing since apple pie, and Shane, huh, Shane treats him as if he was his own brother. He's part of the reason Triple H and I tied the knot in the first place. He practically begged me to marry him. The two have formed a bond so close it makes me sick.

I had my reservations about Triple H. I wasn't sure how long I would actually be attracted to him. There was always someone else I had my eye on. Another wrestler, but the family, especially Shane would never approve of our relationship. He didn't fit the "mold" as Triple H did. He was quiet, genuine, honest and poetic; and please don't get me started on his outer beauty. The man has THE best smile, long golden hair, a rebellious attitude, and to top it all off, mesmerizing blue eyes. His nickname, Y2J, I know him simply as Chris Irvine. But, as fate would have it, I'm stuck bearing the doldrums of life married to a man that I'm just not attracted to, both as a person or as a physical specimen. And why? Because that's the way my family wanted it.

So, when my beloved brother asked me to help him get a piece of that, "fine ass", known as Stacey Kiebler, of course I agreed. What he doesn't know though, is that I need a little excitement in my now pathetic life. And what would be more exciting than watching that little twit suffer the way I am right now. You can call me "No Action Jackson" and that's just about what Shane is going to get. Revenge can be so sweet.

5:00pm. I called Stacey into my office shortly before most of the other wrestlers arrive to get ready for Raw taping number, whatever. As she enters my office, she smiles at me sweetly, but I can tell she's nervous as hell. I have to give it to my brother, she is definitely a beautiful looking young woman. As I show her to her seat, she looks around nervously; I just smile.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice Stacey." I tell her, still maintaining my smile.

"No problem Steph. Is everything okay?"

God I love having power. I can make the brawniest men shake and the bitchiest ice queens tremble, just by calling an unexpected meeting; and smiling.

"Everything is fine." I assure her, then continue. "The reason I've called you here is because tonight, you will be working as my brother Shane's bitch." Stacey raises an eyebrow and shuffles uncomfortably in her seat. I laugh a bit under my breath at her uneasiness, but then make sure to clarify my last statement.

"You will be playing Shane's new escort to the ring for the next couple of shows." A sigh of relief crosses Stacey's face. I get up from behind my desk and start slowly pacing around the room, acting all business like and shit, with my hands folded behind my back.

"I suppose the, 'Shane's a Bitch' and 'Shane's a Pussy' signs are starting to get to him. He needs someone that will help his image. Someone who can turn him from dud, to stud." As I circle around Stacey one last time, I stop and lean forward where my eyes meet hers directly. "Are you in?"

"Of course Steph, anything to help the show."

I smile at her with approval; she fakes a smile in return. If I were her, I'd feel a little uncomfortable myself. Shane's hit on her before, but now, he has full reign to be the sleaze he really is. His wife won't mind, the fans won't mind, no one will mind. Why? Because it's all part of the story, it's make-believe, right? Wrong.

Now some of you may be saying, "Steph, if this is your way of revenge, giving Shane exactly what he asked for, then can I be your worst enemy?" Well, what I haven't mentioned yet is that Stacey has an awfully jealous boyfriend. His names' Andrew Martin, aka Test, and he was just let go from the WWE roster. Not only did Shane get in his way when we had our little fling, but he also broke his foot at a house show, thus ultimately leading to his release. If Shane wants to play with Stacey, the whole world will know about it, including Test.

Poor Stacey, she had no idea she was just being used. A pawn in my wickedly innocent little game. I shook her hand as she rose from her seat. While she made her way out the door, I couldn't help but to keep smiling. This was going to be fun.

Chapter 2

Confident that I had now successfully set my plan in motion, I strode through the backstage area to meet up with the writing team. There of course were many things to discuss after my meeting with Stacie. On my way there, I ran into my outwardly obnoxious brother, who bounded up to me like a little school girl (gee, no wonder people call him a pussy).

"Well?" He asked me.

"Well what?" Although I knew he wanted to find out if I had spoken to Stacie, I thought I'd give him a little attitude before giving up any information. He rolled his eyes at me to show how annoyed he was.

"Did you have a conversation with Stacie?"

"Of course I did Shane. Isn't that what you wanted?" Shane smiled at me, as I continued. "Stacie will be your escort to the ring tonight. She'll basically be playing your little trophy, so you can show off to the entire world." Shane's smile got even bigger.

"Awesome. Guess we'll have to practice being a couple." He said with a little wink. I rolled my eyes without him looking. Before leaving, he lovingly massaged my shoulder. I suppose he was trying to show his appreciation for what I had done. That's kind of how things work with Shane, as long as you are doing something for him, he's the most loving brother in the world. The minute you do something he doesn't approve of, watch out, the guy will be a total ass.

"That's my girl Steph, I knew you'd pull through for me. Now, I better go get that nice piece of ass. Sorry, that was rude, I meant Stacie." He then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. Before he left, I had one more piece of information to fill him in on. Call it a "teaser" of things to come.

"Oh Shane, one more thing, there's a special surprise waiting for the both of you later tonight." Shane turned and looked at me with his arms folded.

"Don't play with me Steph. You know I don't like surprises." Shane's voiced turned chilly for a moment, but I didn't let it bother me. I had focus.

"Come on Shane, you can trust me. I'm your sister." Shane's smile returned and he was off to get his prize. I, on the other hand, had some phone calls to make and some scripts to rewrite.

Once I completed my meeting with the writing staff, I sent them scurrying to make copies of the new script for the production crew, talent and director. I would personally hand deliver a copy of the script to my dad for his review, making sure to leave out certain parts for my own protection. Once the writers were gone, and I was alone, I picked up the phone and dialed the number I had saved in my own private book of contacts. One that my darling husband wasn't aware I had owned. My conversation with the person on the other end was short, to the point and all business. In order to make this whole thing entertaining, he was going to have to be a part of my little game plan. As I hung up the phone, I heard a knock at the door. A bit startled, I shoved my little book of numbers in my purse and called for the person to enter.

When the door opened, in came my husband Triple H. I rolled my eyes as he walked in with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Hey baby, what's up?" He asked me in his normal Neanderthal tone.

"Just finished meeting with the writing team." I responded casually. As he moved closer to me, he reached out his hand for mine. He was already dressed for the opening segment of the show, which meant he was all baby oiled up, his hair was wet, and he had his trademark black wrestling trunks on. Now I know some ladies like the sweaty, unkempt, Speedo look, but I do not. When he grabbed my hand, it was wet and disgusting. He wrapped his arms around me and now I was the one wearing the baby oil. I did everything in my power not to kick him away from me.

"Kiss for good luck?" He asked me with a crooked smile. I of course obliged, not wanting to make a scene and just wanting him to leave as soon as possible. As he left to deliver his opening monologue to the crowd I thought to myself, he really isn't that bad of a guy. Just not my type. Was he egocentric? Maybe a little. Boring and predictable? You bet. But in some ways, the guy did have charm and seemed to genuinely care for me. The only problem is he's not the man I wanted to marry. Chris Irvine is the one for me.

When I met Chris there was an instant connection. He was not intimidated by my last name like most guys on the roster. He made me laugh just by the way he teased me. Our conversations came so easily and natural, that you would've thought we've known each other since the day we were born. At the time, I had yet to establish myself as the head of the creative team, but those on the writing staff saw the chemistry between us and felt it needed to be worked into the storylines. So what did they do? They made us arch enemies. Chris was always trying to one up on me, me always trying to one up on Chris. Chris even made a little game out of it. For every time he could manage to call me a "slut" on the air, I would owe him a drink later that night. I think his record stands at four. Needless to say, he got pretty wasted that night. Everything was going along perfectly until Shane butted his nose in where it didn't belong. As Chris and I started getting closer and closer, Shane would pay more and more attention to what I was doing. Almost like keeping tabs on me. I'm convinced that, that is why I was asked to play Hunter's wife in the storylines. Shane knew that if he paired me up with his good pal Triple H, he could keep track of where I was and what I was doing at all times.

Then one day, as I passed Chris in the hallway, he barely looked at me. I asked him if he was upset over something and his reply was, "Don't act like we're buddies Steph. Your brother told me how you really feel. I thought what we had was real, but obviously I was mistaken." Needless to say I was shocked. I had no idea what he was talking about. I could only stand there speechless (that's right, for once in my life, speechless). Before walking away, Chris said one more thing.

"By the way, you can tell your brother to call his buddies off, I won't be bothering you any more."

And that was it. The end of one of the most beautiful relationships, with one of the most beautiful men, I have ever had. Shortly thereafter, I started spending more time with Triple H and the rest is history.

As I look back at that time, I feel only regret. For years now my brother Shane has gotten everything he's asked for, at the cost of my happiness and I'm sure many others. I may never get a chance with Chris again, but at least, if all goes well, I can give Shane a taste of his own medicine.

Chapter 3

Throughout the show, I sat watching from a monitor in the back, close to where the wrestlers walked through the entryway curtain. There I could give them last minute directions if required. After his opening speech, Triple H returned to the backstage area and loomed over me. Thankfully I was wearing a headset to deliver instructions to the director if necessary, therefore I could just ignore anyone around me I found annoying (in this case that would be Triple H). Shane and Stacie's monologue was placed somewhere in the middle of the show. Before they prepared to go out on stage, Shane had his arm wrapped around Stacie's waist already. I watched as he flirted with her, trying hard not to puke at the display. As they walked by, Shane gave me a wink. I smiled back based solely on the fact that I knew something he didn't and couldn't wait to see his face later.

Before Shane and Stacie were cued to make their appearance, an assistant tapped me on the shoulder.

"Miss McMahon, he's here." She told me.

I practically ran from my seat. I didn't want anyone to see him when he arrived and instructed him to wait for me in the arena lobby. I had to work fast to get him in place. The guy could have at least showed up on time, but what's time to an old friend.

When I returned back to my seat next to the monitor, Triple H gave me a quizzical look. No one suspected anything was up at this point and I wasn't about to blow it now. He whispered in my ear.

"Everything okay?"

"Of course baby." I threw in the "baby" for good measure. For those of you who think Triple H is a big and bad tough guy, he's actually a sucker for the mushy talk and pet names. I've got about a dozen of them ready to use at any given moment.

As soon as I placed my headset back on I could hear Shane's theme song blaring out of the speakers.

"Here Comes the Money. Money, money, money. money…"

God I hated that song. Shane picked it out himself, as he felt it suited his true character. Yea, Shane, you a playa'. You're right up there with Jay-Z and P. Diddy. Regardless, a lot of people actually like it when dorky white boys try to be ghetto cool. So there was Shane, strutting down the ramp with his rap music on, a tall blond by his side, and a cocky swagger. The crowd of course booed at him the whole time, which I love. As he jumped into the ring, he held the ropes for Stacie. She did her usual act by making sure to stick her ass way out for all the horny teenage boys to google over. Damn she was good at working a crowd. Shane took a good long stare as well.

As the music died, Shane grabbed a mic to start talking. Before he could belt out the first word a roaring chant of "Shane's a pussy" emanated from the crowd. Shane looked at them pissed, and then slid into his arrogant, I'm better than you, character.

"You can all call me what you like, because it's just not true." Shane started and finally the crowd started to settle. He then continued.

"Like my song says, I am money. I have looks, brains, power and now," he looks at Stacie who smiles back at him. She of course playing a role, Shane just being himself. "Now I have the girl." He pulls her close to him and then practically shoves his tongue down her throat. I guess he figures if Vince can do it, he can do it better. The crowd starts to boo again as Shane flashes a smile. Then suddenly, the scene is interrupted when out from the speakers starts another theme song.
"Test, Test, Test…"

Shane looks at the entryway, his eyes huge, the crowd goes crazy. I thought Shane would pee his pants right then and there, but no luck. Instead he just stood there like a deer in headlights. He released the hold he had on Stacie and she backed away to the far end of the ring. She too was shocked that Test was here and was afraid of what might happen. Although Test was nothing but a sweetheart to me, he was very possessive of Stacie. I'm pretty sure he knows she's out of his league. Because of that, I knew there would be nothing more in this world that would make him angrier than to see my brother Shane kissing his woman. That's why I hired him back. Shane will be pissed I'm sure and want to take it out on me; that's of course IF he can walk away from this one.

With a mic still in his hand Shane tried to reason with the big, jacked up Canadian.

"Test, wait one second. You know nothing's going on here. It's all part of the show." Again the chants of "Shane's a pussy" start from the crowd. I can barely control my laughter at this point. I couldn't have scripted it any better myself. Test in the meantime could care less what Shane has to say. Instead he keeps marching right towards the ring. If Shane were smart, which he's not, he would just shut his mouth and take off running, but not my Shane-O, he just keeps on talking.

"Listen Test, you hear what they're calling me? Well, it's true, I don't have the grapefruits to mess with your girl. This whole gimmick wasn't my idea"

Seeing that Test has not lost any stride and refuses to be swayed by Shane's plea, Shane decides it's time to get the hell out of there. He takes off running as fast as he can. Test chasing after him. I order the director in the production booth to have the camera follow them. They run through the crowd, where Test finally grabs hold of Shane's shirt. He spins poor ole Shane around so their eyes meet face to face. Shane now holding his hands up in the air, seconds away from crying like a baby. Just before Test is about to drive his fist through Shane's face, Shane gives him a low blow. While Test falls to the ground, Shane runs away like an Olympic sprinter. God that was beautiful. The whole world now knows how much of a pussy my brother truly is.

We cut to a commercial. The cheers from the crowd filter throughout the backstage area. I get a few pats on the back from people congratulating me on how over that segment was with the crowd. As I get up from my chair I see Shane run towards me, sweat pouring down his forehead, he's actually close to hyperventilating he's so out of shape. He grabs me by the shoulders.

"What the hell is Test doing here? He was fired a long time ago." I just shrugged my shoulders and gave him an evil grin.

"Sorry to ruin your little plans with Stacie, Shane, but I felt Test had a right to know. It sucks when people get in your way doesn't it?" I kept smiling as the rage in Shane's face grew to an intensity I had never seen before. Quite a few people had gathered around us at this point, which was a good thing for me. Shane sometimes had trouble keeping his temper in check; this was one of those times. Just as Shane was about to respond, a deep voice off in the distance shouted.

"Shane, come back here you little prick!"

Shane turned and saw an irate Test coming his way.

"Damn it." He said to himself, and then grabbed my arm. "You have some explaining to do you little bitch." With that, he once again took off running.

As Test ran by the rest of us like a blur, I started thinking to myself, revenge is fun and all, but I'm a little worried. Shane was more pissed than I thought. There's no telling what he'll do to get back at me.

The following day, I sat in the make-up room alone. It was time to get ready for another taping, this time in a different city, with a different roster, different show. Regardless of which show we taped, my preparation routine was the same. BUT, tonight was different than most nights. Tonight I relished in the events of last night's show. I knew that at some point Shane and myself would cross paths, and I would have to face up to what I had done. I also knew that as time went on, Shane would eventually get over it. This at least was what I had hoped.

I sat looking in the mirror, brushing my hair and contemplating on what an evil genius I truly am. Is it so wrong to want to have a little fun, and at the expense of someone who practically ruined my life time and again? Of course poor Stacie would have to deal with Test and his jealousy even though she had done nothing wrong. I actually feel a little guilty for having used the both of them as I did, but damn, the look on Shane's face when Test came out after him was priceless.

"There you are." Shane's voice penetrated my ears with a flash of fright. I tried to play innocent and sweet, something I've been working on with Triple H since we exchanged wedding vows.

"It was a great twist. Did you hear the crowd last night, they loved it." After my response, Shane's face was getting redder by the second.

"Fuck the crowd, you had no right to do that to me. You know what Test is like. We aren't exactly buddies." At this point I was growing impatient of Shane's little tirade and rolled my eyes at him. Apparently, Shane didn't appreciate this at all. He pounded his fist hard on the make-up table, and then yelled.

"Damn it Steph. Don't mess with me. If I ask you to do something, you better damn well do it!". Apparently Shane didn't learn his lesson, so I was going to spell it out for him.

"What's wrong Shaney, you don't like it when people interfere in your life?" If I thought Shane couldn't get any angrier, I was wrong. He stepped closer to me, which made me a tad bit frightened. I moved away, but was getting closer to the wall behind me.

Like a rabbit out of a hole, his hand shot out and grabbed my arm before I could move any further. Then he got in my face and replied.

"No I don't like when people interfere in my life, sis!" His grip started to get tighter, but I was getting even more pissed myself. Somehow I had wished that Shane would just wake up, be a man and apologize for ruining my one chance at love. But no, it didn't matter what I did, he just doesn't get it. With all my might I shoved him backwards, causing him to almost fall over a chair. His hand was still firmly placed on my arm, but now it loosened and I could sense that Shane was a little surprised that I refused to just lay down and take it. Like a caged lion I roared at him.
"Then stop interfering in mine your bastard! I love Chris, not Triple H and you ruined that for me." I started to cry now, and that's when Triple H came through the door. Both Shane and I looked at him in surprise. Triple H saw me crying and saw that Shane had his hand wrapped around my arm. He made his way toward Shane with fire in his eyes.

"Get your hands off my wife Shane." He then grabbed Shane and pushed him away, causing him to fall hard to the floor. Shane stood up staring at Triple H. A scowl on his face. I thought the two of them were about to get it on, but then I had to remind myself this is Shane we're talking about, he's too much of a coward to take a man the size of Triple H on by himself.

"Did you hear what your lovely wife just said?" Shane asked Triple H as he brushed himself off. Triple H turned to me, his face started to soften.

"Yes, I did." Then he turned back toward Shane. "I suggest you leave now Shane." Shane smirked at me as if to say, "You're going to get it now." I made a face right back at him, then turned my attention back to Triple H.

After Shane left, Triple H turned his head to the floor. I could tell his mind was racing. Finally, I guess he figured out what he wanted to say. I prepared myself for the worst.

"You know Steph, I've put up with your damn family for a long time, and why? Because I actually love you." Oh no, he wasn't going to pull the old I love you crap just to make me feel guilty, I thought to myself, then countered as harshly as I could.

"Do you really love me, or is it the business you love? You have to admit, since marring me, you've had full control over your character and the number of titles you've held." Triple H looked away again. The creases in his forehead seemed to get deeper, a breath of exasperation escaped him.

"Business is business and I'm man enough to admit I've used whatever power I have to take full control of my career. But I really do love you Steph." Then, Triple H did something I never thought in a million years he would do. He gently placed his hand on my cheek, stared deeply into my eyes, then with his other hand around my waist, he pulled me next to him. As if in slow motion, his face moved closer, until his lips landed perfectly on mine. The kiss so deep, so tender, I almost felt that at any minute someone would yell, "Cut!" and the moment would be gone. Instead, Triple H, my husband, held me close to him. When he finally pulled away, I was left breathless. He stared at me for what seemed the longest time, then said,

"You want Chris, go get him. You, your brother, your whole family can all go to hell." That was it, Triple H walked out the door and out of my life.

I should be happy right? Well I wasn't. I was more miserable than before. After all this time I'd misjudged the man Triple H truly was. Maybe it was because I kept comparing him to Chris. Maybe his wrestling persona had become so big that, that was the man I saw. Whatever it was, I could sense in this very moment that I had truly fucked up.

The plane trip home later that night sucked. I rode in the WWE private jet with my father, some of the other head writers and my brother Shane. Usually Paul would ride with us, he was part of the family after all, while the other wresters rode home on a commercial jet coach style. But tonight was different. Paul opted to fly coach.

Shane didn't say a word to me. He just stared with that evil, pouty look he sometimes uses for his in ring character. Although I had gotten some revenge on him for the part of my life he's destroyed, the little bastard still managed to come off better than me. So he doesn't get to fuck Stacie Kiebler and was embarrassed on national television (which believe me, that was not a first for him). I on the other hand discovered that the man I held so much bitterness toward, might actually be the right man for me after all. But now, I may have lost him forever. Hey, at least he knows the truth. I was in love with Chris, and a large part of me still is. God, I'd give anything just to hear him call me a slut one last time. Since that day when Shane so kindly told him that he wasn't good enough for me, we haven't spoken more than a few words to each other, and only when absolutely necessary. Chris now refuses to engage in any storylines that may have anything to do with me. I've tried to respect his wishes and have basically written myself out of an on air role period. Every now and then I'll find myself staring at him from a distance. Every now and then he'll catch me and turn away with distaste in his eyes. Of course I don't blame him, I just wish that after over a year he would lighten up. I wish he'd just let me explain that Shane is nothing but an overbearing putz, that I married Triple H only because I felt there was no chance for us, that the pressure of being the daughter of Vince McMahon, and the expectations that go with it, are enormous. I know poor me right?

As we started to land, I wandered if I would be returning home to an empty house. Outside the airport I waited for my driver to pick me up. The heavy down pour of the cold New York City rain only seemed to symbolize my stormy emotions. Come to think of it, I think I'd much prefer to wait outside all night in the rain, then be alone at my so called home all night long.

When the car finally arrived the driver hurried out to grab my bags and open the door for me. I really didn't feel at this moment I deserved any special treatment right now, but hey, better he be driving in this mess than me.

"Sorry for being late Ms. McMahon." The driver said apologetically. I smiled at him to be polite and we were off.

As I stared out the window I thought of all the little things Paul did for me that I really never noticed before. Example, the time we were taping a show in Cincinnati, I got food poisoning from something I ate at one of the catering tables. I ran to a private bathroom and slumped over a toilet bowl. I think I puked almost every 10 minutes for about an hour. Paul came in to comfort me. When it was time for him to perform, he went out, did his thing, and then came right back to make sure I was okay. Holding my hand the entire time. I remember wishing how much I just wanted to be alone. More importantly, I remember wishing how much I wanted it to be Chris who was holding my hand, and lifting my hair away from my face as I threw up all over the place.

As the rain continued to pour, it seemed even heavier now, I could hear the driver scream profanities at a passing car.

Damn, New Yorkers are so angry. Must be the whole Red Sox vs. Yankees series from last year. Instead of torturing myself further and listening to Mr. Road Rage there in the front seat, I decided to rest my head and try to get a little shuteye.

As I snoozed away, I was awakened by a bright light. The driver pulled into my driveway, where there was a man waiting for me. I was hoping it was my husband Triple H, but the man was a bit smaller in size. The driver parked the car and came around the other side to open my door. I handed him a twenty-dollar bill for his trouble and then asked him to wait until I was safe inside. He nodded and watched as I approached the man waiting for me at my doorstep. As I began to get a closer look at the man, I was shocked to discover it was Chris Irvine.

"I heard about you and Paul. I'm sorry." He said with absolute sincerity in his rain soaked face. I looked down at the wet concrete, completely embarrassed that tonight's string of events had now obviously gotten around to the entire roster. Damn Shane and his big mouth. I looked back up at Chris, still hardly believing he was here at my home, and then waved the driver off with my hand to let him know everything was okay.

"Do you want to come in, seeing as it's raining and all." I asked, knowing that Paul was not home and probably wouldn't be home for the rest of the night.

Now before any of you start wandering about my motives, let me clarify them now. The last thing I want is to be alone right now to sit and stew with my guilty conscience. Although the feelings I have for Chris are very real, I know his heart is no longer with mine. The fact that he's reaching out to me now only goes to show you why I fell in love with him in the first place. He is truly one of the most caring people on this planet. He stands before me putting the past aside in order to help someone who he hopefully, at the very least, considers a long, lost friend. I've broken down one man tonight, I don't intend to do it again with Chris.

The rain continued to pour and I was getting cold. I grabbed my keys to open the front door and looked back at Chris. I motioned for him to follow me inside, and he did.

I smiled at him and then went to the fridge to grab him a Bud Light. My husband may be a multimillion dollar wrestling superstar, but he is still just one of the boys.

Once we both had something to drink, Chris and I sat down on the couch. Each one of us making sure there was plenty of space between us. To be honest with you, the sexual tension was killing me, but again, I really wanted to hear what Chris had to say about Triple H. After a moment of awkward silence, I began.

"Well, for one thing, Paul flew home with the rest of us. No one really had to say anything was up. Secondly, I guess one of the guys heard it from Shane."

I rolled my eyes, wishing that for once I could be wrong about how much of a jackass Shane really was. I responded.

"Well, even though the rumors are correct, Paul and I are having some differences, I just wish people would stop listening to my brother Shane." Chris took a drink from his beer and then said in a nonchalant tone.

"Because he's a liar and a bastard!" I could tell Chris was a little startled by my emphatic proclamation.

"Wow, settle down there Steph." He said trying to get me to sit back down on the couch, but I refused.

"Chris, he lied to you the day you stopped talking to me." A confused look now crossed Chris's face. I continued.

"He never wanted us to be together, that's why he said those things. It was my family that thought you weren't good enough, not me. Never me!"

I stopped for a second trying to catch my breath. Although I had always prided myself in being able to control my emotions, I was tired, pissed and having a female moment. Chris knew better than to interrupt, so again, I continued.

"And what is the worse part of all, you believed him, without giving me a chance to explain."

"What about the whole McMahon-Helmsley storyline?" He quipped. "You ARE one of the writers, basically the head of the entire creative team. I thought that was your idea. I thought it was you that wanted to parade around the ring next to Triple H."

I was now starting to get even more pissed than before. Hearing how manipulative my family could be made me sick.

"Again, that was Shane and my father's idea. They loved Triple H and saw an opportunity to not only keep us apart, but also to create a storyline where we McMahon's could all be WWE superstars."

I could see Chris at this point going back in time and slowly putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Hopefully he could see how it all made sense. The fact that he had believed in Shane's lies all this time was killing me. If I could salvage anything from this night, hopefully it would be the truth about that day.

I went to the fridge and grabbed Chris another beer. When I returned I sat back down on the couch and asked him straight out.

"Why are you here tonight Chris? To say you're sorry about me and Paul? I find that hard to believe." Chris inched closer to me and responded.

"Well, it did give me a good excuse to talk to you again. I knew Paul wouldn't be here. But the real reason I came by is because I saw an opportunity to get back at Paul for stealing you away from me."

"Now I just wish I would have spoken to you earlier like a man. God, I'm such an ass clown." He was right you know, he should have spoken to me earlier, I thought to myself.
"Ass clown, yep, that's about right." I responded with a sly smile.

"Shut up you bottom-feeding ho." He held up his beer and we made a toast. After smiling at each other like old times, I placed my hand on Chris's clean shaven face.

"Chris, I love you, BUT, I discovered something about my husband in the last 24 hours. I discovered I never really knew him at all, and now, I want to know."

He walked over to the door and I followed him with my eyes. God, what a sexy tush. I shook my head to get the evil thoughts that started to now form out of my mind. When Chris opened the door, thunder boomed and practically shook the house. The rain was falling heavier than it had been all night. I raced over to where Chris was standing outside the door.

"Why don't you stay here tonight? At least until the storm passes." I asked him with my hand grabbing his arm and practically pulling him back inside the house. Chris looked around.

Once he came back inside we agreed he would sleep on the couch, and I would sleep in my room. Before I retired, I saw Chris kick his feet up onto the coffee table and finish the beer he had left sitting there. Then I said, "Goodnight."

As I lye fully awake in my bed, I could hear Chris outside my door pacing around the room. I felt sorry for him and wanted so bad to reach out and pull him under the sheets with me, but I couldn't. It all seemed so unfair. To keep wanting and to never be satisfied. Maybe if I just didn't care about anyone but myself, like Shane-O, the self proposed Boy Wonder, I wouldn't be lying here with the weight of the world on my shoulders. I can only guess that Shane is sound asleep in his sweet little bed, next to his beautiful little wife, with that stupid smirk on his face. Poor Marissa. She obviously sees something in him I don't. Bling, bling perhaps, or blind love? God only knows.

As I continued to lay in bed alone with my thoughts, I noticed that the house seemed disturbingly quiet. I supposed Chris was finally able to get some sleep. But then I wondered, how can such a big house seem so empty? Two people, separate rooms and yet, empty. Maybe I was just mistaking it all for my soul. God, stop it Steph, you sound like a 19th century poet writing from prison. BINGO! It's all a self inflicted prison. Don't you just love it when us spoiled rich folk get all deep and philosophical?

Then suddenly, as if on cue, I felt a presence in the room. A warm, tender and comforting presence. I knew it was Chris. There was a sweetness in the air, like being in a candy factory or something like that. He was now in my bed. I pretended to be asleep, but at the same time absorbed every second of his skin touching mine. My entire body was placed at ease almost immediately as he caressed my hair with his hand. Everything was perfect, except it wasn't. Then, out of no where, a low pitched voice called my name with crystal clear purpose and intensity.

When I opened my eyes, everything was just a bit blurry. Suddenly I heard a big booming voice call out.

Then, like a pack of wild elephants, I heard several people rush into my room. Still trying to gain my vision, I felt something cold placed on my chest. Then a voice I wasn't quite familiar with said.

As my vision began to clear, I could see some of the people surrounding me. There was my father, Vince McMahon, with his one arm around my mom, Linda, and the other extended out to my hand. He smiled down at me.

Dead! Did he say dead? What the hell happened to me? As I looked around even further, I could now see that I was not lying at home on my nice comfortable bed, nor did I see Chris anywhere. Instead, I was lying in a hospital bed with all sorts of funky ass machines hooked up to me. I looked up at my father and asked.

"You were in a car accident. When the paramedics brought you here, you slipped into a coma."

Oh my God, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Then another person barged through the small crowd gathered in my room.

"Oh God, Stephanie, you're alive." It was Shane. He wrapped his arms around me and nearly hugged the wind out of me. Forget the fact that I was also very sore all over. He looked at me with puppy dog eyes and continued.

"I never thought I'd be so happy to see you alive. I'm so sorry for being such a prick to you the last couple of days. Please say you'll forgive me."

As I stared at the face of my pathetic brother, I thought to myself, I came back to life for this? I'd rather be dead. Since it was obvious that Shane's guilt trip was more important to him than my health, I humored him by responding,"Okay Shane, I forgive you." Then I rolled my eyes hoping he would just go away. Shane smiled at me with that annoying smirk of his and gave me a wink before stepping back. Thankfully, my father motioned for him to leave the room sensing that I was bothered by his presence.

As Shane and the medical staff started to make their way towards the exit, there was a man standing by the doorway. He had been there the whole time, but had stayed quiet. My father and mother both kissed me on the forehead, then left me alone with the massive figure I had yet to recognize. He closed the door behind him and started to approach me. The first thing I noticed was his nose. How could I not? I knew immediately who he was, and all because of that damn nose. Before, it was one of his most annoying physical features. Always in the way when we tried to make love. But, now, what a sight for sore eyes. It was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen since before my accident.

"Steph, baby, how are you feeling?" Triple H reached out to me and placed his hand softly on my cheek. I tilted my head so that the full weight of it rests in his hand.

Triple H bent down beside me. I could now see him in clear view. As he began to explain that my driver had swerved off the road after picking me up from the airport several days ago, I could swear I saw some sort of water substance swell up in Paul's eyes. This was all so surreal for me right now. I really tried desperately to collect my bearings. Only moments ago, I thought I was sleeping in my bed at home with the arms of Chris Irvine wrapped tightly around my body. Now, it seems instead, I had a near death experience, and the most amazing part of it all, is that I could swear Paul was starting to cry. I've never, ever in my life seen him cry. If I hadn't felt like absolute shit right now, I would have rose out of my bed and held on to him for dear life. But I couldn't, so I listened to him talk, studying every feature in his face for fear that when all this is over, he would stay true to his earlier words and leave my for good. The nose, the wrinkles in his forehead, the squinty eyes, all gone.

When he finally finished explaining the circumstances that brought me here, I decided it was time to make one last stab to save our marriage.

"Paul. I have been such a bitch to you." Now I was starting to cry. Having to put the McMahon pride aside was not easy for me, but at this point it was absolutely necessary. Triple H grabbed a Kleenex and began to wipe away my tears. I continued.

"I'm sorry." I said plainly. Paul stood up. He started to pace, rubbing his forehead with his hand, then replied.

"I know you are Steph, but I can't forget the fact that you love Chris. That means everything we've shared in the last two years meant nothing."

I really couldn't argue with him on that point, but I would try to convince him that my love for him right now is real.

"Paul, I know it may seem hard for you to believe, but the minute I lost you, I realized that you are worth fighting for, you are the man that I want to be with forever. " Triple H stood there with his eyes turned away, but he was listening. I continued.

"Chris is a great guy and we shared something very special, but that is over. I hated you because you were in the way. Now I realize that my family was just using you, so they could have what they wanted. I was sickened by the friendship you had with my brother. It was as if you were rubbing it in my face."

"Number one, you're family didn't use me, I was using them. Look at me, I'm the WWE Champion, and have been for years. Number two, your brother's a wanna-be little jerk, we have never been friends and never will be. The only reason I haven't beat the shit out of him is because of you."

I wanted to say, "By all means, don't let that stop you" but instead I refrained so that Triple H could continue.

"And number three..." He stopped there, his body starting to relax, his voice less stern. "And number three, I'm giving you a second chance."

My eyes widened. I really couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He said it as if he was regretting his decision before the words even spilled out of his mouth. I was hoping for something a little more soft. I was hoping for something a little more gentle and loving.

At that moment I knew better than to open my mouth. He said he would give me a second chance and that was good enough for me. No need to make a big mushy scene for effect. Before Triple H left, he knelt down on one knee and said, "One last thing, don't you ever fucking die on me again."

I lay back in my bed, a smile on my face. I was the luckiest woman around, of course you wouldn't know it if you saw all the cuts and bruises currently covering my body, but I was. Through all of this I did learn something. Maybe revenge isn't the best way to get what you want, although it can indeed sometimes be sweet. Maybe, the best way to get what you want is to simply live without the things you currently have. You'll soon discover that everything your really want is right there in front of you.