TITLE: Tangled
Webs
AUTHOR: Me, Raquel!! But you can call me Raqi if you must!
EMAIL: EmotionlyUnblncd@aol.com
DISCLAIMER: This story is a complete work of fiction. I do not own
Paul Levesque (Triple H), Dwayne Johnson (The Rock), or Trish Stratus. I
do own Gabrielle, for she is a figment of my imagination :) I don't make
any money off this story, so dun sue me, please!!! ::cries::
DISTRIBUTION: Ask and ye shall receive! but ask first, please :)
RATING for this scene: PG-13
CONTENT: Adult language
SPOILERS: none
SUMMARY: Gabrielle suffers at home.
NOTE: This is the last part of the story!! The title, Denouement, is
a French literary term for the climactic unraveling of a dramatic plot :)
I have to thank Jackie, Krissy, and my boyfriend Eric for helping me with this
story, it couldn't have been done without you guys :)
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The mid-afternoon sun shone across my bed as I lay
there staring at the ceiling. I had only woken up a short while ago, but I
felt as if the life had been drained out of me. I'd felt that way for the
last week. And I didn't see an end in sight. A sigh escaped my parted
lips.
When you feel that you've hit bottom, utterly and
completely, you reach this eerie calmness. It feels as if you were
standing alone on the shore of an empty ocean, watching the storm clouds roll
over the silent gray waters. You realize that there's no sense in feeling
anything. You just start… not caring anymore. That's where I was,
on that shore. Wanting to dive in and drown.
There was nothing to care about anymore.
The one thing, the one person that really mattered to me was gone. I knew
Paul better than I'd known anyone in my life. I knew that look in his
eyes. He wasn't coming back. Not that I blamed him, really. He
thought I had… God, I couldn't even bring myself to think about what he
believed I'd done. Usually at that point I burst into tears, but I had
done so much crying in the last week that my eyes were dry as dust.
The last week. It was Sunday afternoon and I had
done nothing but lie in bed and cry since I had gotten home on Tuesday, only
leaving my bedroom when I had to. My apartment was the only place I felt
safe in; there was no way I could go to Paul's house and see all the memories of
our relationship. The pain I was in already consumed me wholly, hurting
like no other pain I'd felt before. I didn't want to do anything; I didn't
want to talk to anyone. I had unplugged my phones and turned off my cell.
The last thing I needed was someone calling and asking what had happened to make
me leave so suddenly. I knew that people were worried about me, but if I
tried to explain to them, I was terrified that I'd have a total breakdown.
As it was, I didn't know how I was keeping sane. My thoughts kept jumbling
together, if you could call them thoughts. They were more like words and
emotions in a chaotic mess in my head. I could only think about two
things; that Paul would never hold me in his arms again, never love me again,
and what I would do to Dwayne the next time I saw him, if ever.
The feeling I had had in that shower a long time ago
was right; I hadn't felt clean in a long time. No matter what I did I
could feel Dwayne's hands and lips on my body, and sometimes even his cock
shoved inside of me like a spike. I constantly felt nauseous, spending a
couple of nights on the bathroom floor praying I would just die. I had
never hated anyone like I hated him. The bastard didn't care about
anything or anyone. He had walked into my life like he owned it, and the
worst thing was that he had owned my life. Anything he wanted to
do, he did. He had violated me, in every sense of the word. I felt
so weak, so vulnerable, and so useless. Paul is probably better off
with someone less defective than me, I thought as I closed my teary eyes,
turned onto my side, and snuggled into my pillows. If I slept, I wouldn't
feel anything; that had become my philosophy of late. I have to stop
caring. It's not like anyone else cares about me, I told myself.
Just then, a bark from another room reminded me that
someone did care about me after all. "Isabella!" I called out.
My Australian Shepherd came bounding in, responding to her name. She was
my baby; Paul had saved her from a local shelter and given her to me a couple
years before. My neighbor watched her while I was on the road with Paul,
but when I was home Bella was all mine.
Isabella jumped onto the bed and lay down next to me,
snuffling my hand. I managed a smile and hugged her tightly.
"Is you being a good girl?? My Izzy-Bella," I said, voice
high-pitched in baby talk. Many was the time I was made fun of for how I
spoiled my dog, but I didn't care. She was the only constant in my life,
and she was always able to make me smile. "I guess there is at least
one thing worth caring about," I whispered to her as she licked my hand.
I rested my head on her fur and sighed. I knew I
couldn't go on like this. I couldn't just retreat into my own little world
and try to forget everything, no matter how much easier it was. And I
couldn't make myself not care, not about the one person I would always love.
People used that expression too eagerly nowadays. So many pledged their
eternal love only to have it wither soon after. But all it took was one
look deep into Paul's eyes and I knew, I just knew, that we were meant to be
together. I couldn't give that up. It would be impossible to live
with myself if I left it like this, I'd rather die, I thought. There
was no way I could let Dwayne win. I lay there for a few more minutes,
thinking, until I figured out what I had to do.
Pulling myself up and out of bed, I turned on my laptop
and signed online. Within 15 minutes, I had plane tickets to Atlanta where
RAW was to take place the next night. I knew what I was going to do.
I had to find Paul and explain everything to him and tell him how much I loved
him. There was a chance, of course, that he wouldn't believe me, but I had
to try. I had to. There was no other choice.
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