"I do," the man replied, nervously raking his hand through his hair.  "Look, I'm sorry...I never meant to hurt you.  You don't deserve it - but I can't keep living a lie...it isn't fair to either one of us."

"Why are you doing this??"  She sobbed freely, lifting one hand to her face.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said softly, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.  She was shaking as she gazed helplessly up into his face with blue eyes that looked sadder than any he'd ever seen.  "You deserve to be with a man who loves you like you should be loved...I do love you, sweetheart...but I'm not in love with you."

The young woman continued to stare up into his eyes, a look of hopelessness overtaking her.  She felt as though this were all a bad dream from which she would wake up.  It couldn't be over - it couldn't!  They'd been in a relationship for nearly two and a half years.  She'd thought she would marry this man.  She loved him with all her heart and couldn't imagine going on with her life without him.

He felt horrible, as if his own heart were breaking, as he watched his now former girlfriend torn up.  Wordlessly, he moved forward and put his arms around her, stroking her long hair to comfort her.  He felt like crap even doing this, as he was the one causing her misery - but he hugged her tightly, not knowing what else to do...

*

Adam's eyes fluttered open slowly, and he became aware of the dull throbbing of his head - he was still in the hospital, in the emergency room.  He shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the cobwebs, the memory of his dream still fresh in his mind.  Actually, it hadn't quite been a dream because it had really happened.

He glanced over toward the chair positioned at his bedside, but Amy wasn't there.  He realized she must have been given a room in which to sleep, since the doctor had wanted him to stay overnight for observation.  Fleetingly, he wondered if maybe she had left after all, but instantly rejected the idea.  The redhead wouldn't leave him, especially at such a time.

Adam watched an assortment of nurses, physicians assistants and doctors moving back and forth throughout the E.R.  He wanted to call out to one of them, but his mouth was so dry - too dry, it seemed.  He noticed a glass filled with water on the small tray at the right of his bedside and leaned over to reach for it, the tube in his left arm pulling almost painfully.  He winced as his fingers just barely grazed the glass.

The blond looked up to see Amy coming his way, her long red hair slightly mussed but flowing over her shoulders.  Adam paused in his task as he drank in the sight of her.  Once she reached his bedside, she instantly reached over and retrieved the water glass for him.

Adam's hand covered hers as the diva continued to hold the glass as he drank, and she watched him with tender concern.  When he was done, she took it and placed it back on the tray, then faced him again.

"Good morning.  How are you feeling?"

"Much better," he replied, his thirst quenched, throat no longer parched.  He wondered how long he'd been asleep.

Amy gazed down into his emerald eyes with a soft expression on her lovely face.  "I'm glad," she said with a small smile.  She gently reached down with one hand and tenderly stroked his cheek.  "I was really worried about you."

"You were?"

"Of course," she said.  "But it wasn't just because you went into shock - you did an awful lot of talking in your sleep last night."

"Really?"  He wondered what he must have been saying and hoped it was nothing embarrassing - or incriminating in any way.  "What...what kind of stuff did I say?"

"Oh, not all that much.  It was mostly just mumbling, but the one thing I was able to clearly make out was 'I'm sorry.'  You said 'I'm sorry' quite a lot."

Adam frowned a bit.  He knew that definitely had to have had something to do with his memory-dream.  He didn't want to have to explain this to Amy - she was the last person he would want to know about the relationship he had kept secret from the majority of the company for two and a half years - especially since he'd realized the feelings he had for her, which he could swear had increased tenfold since last night.

As he gazed up to meet Amy's hazel eyes, he reflected over his feelings toward her.  He had always been attracted to her, but by the time they'd been friends for nearly a year when he realized it wasn't merely an attraction - he really liked her.  He'd developed a crush on her, but it was even more than that.  It was why he'd had to end the relationship he'd been in - because he'd never felt so intensely about her.

"You know, you also said the word 'angel' in your sleep a bit," Amy said.

Adam gazed up at her, his eyes unwavering.  "You are an angel..."

The redhead smiled shyly, a slow blush staining her cheeks.  She lifted her hand from his face to tuck a stray lock of her slightly messy hair behind one ear.  "I'm no hero - or heroine, Adam."

"Yes you are," he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper.  "Last night, you saved my life."  He stared up into her face wordlessly for a beat.  "My God...I never even thanked you.  Thank you."

Her smile widened as she felt a twinge in her heart.  Adam seemed so vulnerable that it touched her in a very profound way.  She bent slightly down to kiss the tall Canadian man on the forehead, then straightened back up.

"I spoke to a doctor about a half hour ago...he said you can leave any time," she said softly.  "You might want some breakfast first, though."

"I have a better idea," he replied.  "Why don't we just get out of here and get something at a diner?  And I think you'd better drive for awhile."

"Okay...Your rental car is right out in the hospital's parking lot."  Before Adam could question her, she explained.  "The arena isn't all that far away, so I just took a taxi over there and drove it back here."

The tall blond smiled, appreciating his beautiful friend's resourcefulness.  He couldn't stop thinking of her as his guardian angel.  What if she hadn't been there with him, if she hadn't experienced that problem with her rental car?  He didn't even want to consider the possibilities.  There had to have been a reason for that happening, and for why she had chosen to ride with him.

*

"God damn it!" the man shouted, swinging his fist down on the top of his mahogany desk, sending a clutter of papers flying in the process.  He glared at the other man in the room.  "You were supposed to get the job done!"

"I'm sorry," came the reply.  "I tried...I really tried.  But Amy Dumas was with him - she is the one who screwed everything up."

"No," the older man nearly growled.  "You screwed up.  I don't care what it takes...you could have just as easily run that bitch over along with Copeland!  Whatever it takes - just get rid of him, damn you!"  He pointed an angry finger at the muscular young man who stood before him.

"Okay...I swear, I will not let you down.  Just give me another chance."

"Oh, I will...and if you fuck up again, it'll be your ass," the enraged man barked.  "If you don't do this job, and do it right - you're fired!"

The second man pressed his lips together, the beginnings of annoyance stirring at the edge of his mind.  He knew the old man was referring to his real job, not simply this task he'd commissioned of him.  "All right - I understand, sir.  I'll get this done."

"Good.  Now, go on - get out of here.  I have work to do."

The man stared at his boss for another moment, then exited the office, silently closing the door behind him.  As he stood out in the hallway, his facial expression hardened into a deep frown.  Damn the little red-haired bitch for screwing everything up for him!  He'd had a perfect, clear shot at Adam Copeland in the parking lot - he'd been standing, frozen like a deer in headlights, in the path of his rental truck.  It would have been so perfect if not for Miss Amy Dumas.

As he began walking away, his lips curled into a cruel smile as he thought about the redhead.  She had gotten in his way, had interfered and stuck her nose where it didn't belong.  Maybe he would teach her a lesson.  His smile widened as he thought about her pretty red hair and face, and her sweet, hot body, so full of curves.  Yeah, the man thought, it might be a lot of fun to teach that bitch a lesson...

*

Nora Greenwald paced back and forth in her hotel room, checking her watch every few seconds.  She felt aggravated as she awaited her boyfriend's return.  He had left for a meeting with the boss more than an hour earlier, and she could swear he should have returned by now.

She stepped into the bathroom, a sudden urge to examine her reflection in the mirror above the sink coming over her.  The small blonde gazed back at herself, taking in the long platinum curls, the worried blue eyes, underneath which lay dark circles.  She hadn't been sleeping well for awhile, and, quite frankly, hadn't been feeling all that great about herself.

Nora thought about how her diva friends had questioned her recently.  Trish Stratus had commented on her eyes, as she had walked in on her in the women's locker room - catching her putting on layers of concealer.  Besides that, Nora had been crying quite a bit that day as well, so her eyes had also been bloodshot.  Trish had asked her what was going on.  Nora hadn't wanted to divulge her, for she didn't want the other blonde to know about the abuse she'd been suffering at the hands of the man she loved.

After silently staring at her reflection for several long minutes, the diva returned to the main part of the hotel room and resumed her pacing.  She checked her watch again, noting that another ten minutes had passed.  Where was he?

Then, as if in answer to her silent question, the door opened and he entered the room.  "Hey, babe."

"What kept you so long?" Nora asked, gesturing with both arms out at her sides.  Her pretty face was a mask of concern.  "I was so worried!"

"Don't worry about me," he replied as he smirked and came over to give her a quick peck on the lips.  "Everything's fine."

Nora stared at her boyfriend with disbelief.  Obviously, everything was not fine.  She knew when he was lying - which he seemed to do often, and which evidently came naturally to him.  "I want to know where you were..."

"Don't worry about it."

"I'm not worrying about it," the blonde said, trying a new tactic.  "I'm just curious, okay?  So, where were you?"

The man stared at her, his sharp features hardening.  "It's none of your business, Nora."  He sat down on the edge of the bed and removed his shoes.

She stared at him, a feeling of extreme hurt rushing through her.  After a moment, she spoke again.  "I don't understand you," she said.  "You tell me you love me and want to share your life with me...yet you share so very little of it."

"That's because some things should never be shared," he stated.  "Simple as that."

"Well, maybe I don't want to share some things with you," Nora snapped as she became angry.  She hated the way this man made her feel.  He constantly belittled her feelings, made her feel worthless and verbally abused her.  She was only thankful he didn't abuse her physically, as he was a good hundred and twenty-five pounds heavier than her.  "I'm leaving..."

The man reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her roughly toward him.  "No, you're not."

"Let go!" Nora shouted as she tried to pull free.  But the man she loved would not release her.

"No!" he shouted, standing up in front of her, using his greater height - he was a full foot taller than her.  "Sit your ass down right now!"  His face was furious as he pointed toward the bed, pulling at her wrist even more roughly.

"I'm getting out of here, and I'm getting out now!" the little blonde cried as she tried to turn to run, but her wrist was still in his grasp.  As he squeezed it harder, she winced and cried out.  "Ow, you're hurting me!"

The man began to laugh evilly as he stared down at her, taking glee in her pain and misery.  "Aww, too bad," he taunted her cruelly.

"No!  Stop!"  A knot of fear formed in her belly as he shoved her down to the bed and began to tear at her clothes.  She couldn't believe what was happening.  Although he had been pretty sadistic toward her in other ways, he had never sexually assaulted or raped her.  She gave up on all hope of attempting to fight back, as his strength was way too much for her to bear, and she made her mind go completely blank, drawing into herself as he had his way with her.

The man laughed softly while he made love to his girlfriend.  His chuckles quickly turned into moans as he imagined Amy Dumas laying with her legs spread beneath him, a look of pain and fear dominating her features.  Alternately, he envisioned Stephanie McMahon in the same position, a look of ecstasy on her pretty face, and his pleasure increased.  He couldn't wait to take the next step in this job for the boss.