Best Two Out of Three

Part 25

Sunday, September 6, 2020
Jacksonville, Florida

For a hazy, fleeting second when he first woke up, Adam didn't remember what had happened the night before. But then his hotel room came into focus, the fog of sleep cleared, and it all came flooding back like a waking nightmare.

He didn't know how long he'd laid in the middle of the ring after Kenny had let him collapse face-first onto the mat. Seconds that had felt like minutes. Minutes that had felt like hours. The people at ringside had remained painfully silent until he'd finally picked himself up on tired legs and they'd cheered, doing their best to encourage him. But he'd barely heard them as he'd trudged into the back, his hands noticeably emptier than they'd been at the start of the match.

And then, things had somehow gotten worse.

He'd expected to see Alex when he'd returned to the locker room. Hoped to see her. Hoped she would rush over and hug him and tell him something to make him feel anything. But she hadn't been there. Orange had said he'd just missed her; she'd left and gone back to the hotel. Gone after Kenny. And when he heard that, Adam's heart had suddenly felt just as empty as his hands.

He laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling, unsure what time it was. He didn't care. He wanted to go home, but there was no point—he'd just have to turn right back around the day after tomorrow. Plus, he'd booked the hotel room through Thursday. He didn't want to lose that money, too.

Knock-knock-knock.

He turned his head toward the door, slightly confused. Had someone actually knocked, or had he just imaged it? He started counting. One, two, three, four, five, six—

Knock-knock-knock again, louder that time. And then, Alex's voice called through the door.

"Adam, it's me. Please open up."

He closed his eyes. He didn't want to see her; not really. He could guess how their conversation would go and he'd rather just avoid it. But he forced himself out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweats, and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand as he shuffled across the room to the door. She'd just started to knock again when he pulled it open. Alex stood on the other side, an anxious look on her face.

"Hey. Can I come in?"

Adam stared back at her in pensive silence. Part of him wanted to tell her no—but he couldn't bring himself to do it. So, he settled for a smart-ass comment as he let her in instead. "Does Kenny know you're here?"

A mixture of hurt and surprise flashed in her eyes. But he hardly cared. He was hurt, too. "Yes," she sheepishly returned. "I wanted to come see how you're doing."

He scoffed to himself as he shut the door. "What, were you too busy last night?"

Her face fell. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Put me in the middle more than I already am."

Adam bit down on his jaw. He wanted to tell her she'd put herself in the middle, but he knew that wasn't fair. It wasn't even true. She wasn't the cause of these circumstances. He was.

She brought her hands in front of her to nervously pick at her nails. She looked down at them as she talked. "I'm sorry I didn't come see you last night. But after Kenny left the arena I had to see where his head was at. And even though I'm not thrilled with how he handled it... you know this would have happened, eventually."

His brow lowered. "I know what would have happened eventually? That Kenny would abandon me?"

"No," she returned with a frustrated huff. "That you and him would lose the tag titles... split up. You and Kenny aren't FTR or the Young Bucks; you're not meant to be a tag team. You're meant for other things—bigger things. And now you can go after them."