Love Affair/ Roman Reigns

Changes

I've been closely watching Roman's struggles outside of the ring, and it's becoming increasingly concerning. He frequently clutches his stomach, a gesture that suggests he might be dealing with some serious discomfort or pain. It's puzzling to me that, despite the visible signs of his distress, it seems like no one else around him is taking notice or addressing the issue. This lack of awareness is troubling, especially considering the high stakes of live broadcasts where every detail is scrutinized by fans and commentators alike.

I genuinely hope that Stephanie and Triple H, who are both deeply invested in the well-being of the talent and the overall production, start to recognize how often this troubling behavior occurs. It's crucial for them to be aware of these moments, as they not only affect Roman's performance but also the overall narrative and health of the brand. If they can catch on to this pattern, perhaps they can intervene in a way that supports Roman, ensuring he gets the help he needs while also maintaining the integrity of the show. After all, the well-being of the performers should always come first, and it's essential for the leadership to be vigilant about the signs that something might be wrong.

Last week, Roman returned home from his match, a bright smile lighting up his face, radiating an infectious energy that filled the room. His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and it was evident that the adrenaline from the competition still coursed through his veins. He was overflowing with excitement, eagerly sharing every detail of the match, from the intense moments of strategy to the exhilarating rush of victory. He spoke animatedly about the thrill of being back in the ring, battling it out with his rivals, each word punctuated by gestures that illustrated the fierce exchanges and close calls he had experienced.

As he recounted the highlights, I couldn't help but notice how his passion seemed to consume him, making it difficult for him to pause for breath. I shot him a glance that clearly said he should take a breath and slow his roll, hoping to temper his exuberance just a bit. It was as if he was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, and while I admired his fervor, I also wanted him to savor the moment, to reflect on the hard work and dedication that had brought him to this point. I could see the fire in his eyes, a burning desire to improve and push himself further, but I also knew that sometimes, it was important to take a step back, breathe, and appreciate the journey.

He caught the way I was staring at him, my silence speaking volumes. The warmth of his smile dimmed, and he made his way to the kitchen, concern etched on his face. "Hey, love, what's bothering you? I thought you'd be thrilled to see me back in the ring, making my comeback," he said, wrapping his arms around me from behind as I scrubbed the dishes.

I could feel the tension radiating off me like heat from a flame, and I tried to focus on the soapy water, but it was no use. The dishes were just a distraction, a futile attempt to wash away the worry that had settled deep in my chest. "Look! Do you really think I'm oblivious? I see you're not fully healed, yet you keep cradling your stomach on live TV! And it seems like I'm the only one who's noticed!" I snapped, my frustration bubbling over as I continued washing the dishes.

He stepped back, his arms falling to his sides, and I could sense the shift in the air. The playful banter we usually shared had evaporated, replaced by a heavy silence that hung between us like a thick fog. I could see the hurt in his eyes, the way my words had struck him, and for a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. But the worry gnawing at me was too strong to ignore. "Why can't you just take it easy for once?" I continued, my voice rising slightly as I turned to face him. "You've been through so much, and yet here you are, throwing yourself back into the spotlight like nothing happened. It's reckless, and I can't just stand by and watch you do this to yourself."

He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I recognized as a sign of his frustration. "I get it, okay? I know you care, but this is my life. I need to do this. I need to prove to myself that I can still fight, that I can still be the person I was before everything went down." His voice was steady, but I could hear the underlying tremor of uncertainty. 

"But at what cost?" I shot back, my heart racing. "You're not just a fighter; you're a person, and you need to take care of yourself first. I can't bear the thought of you getting hurt again, not after everything we've been through."

Roman stepped out of the kitchen, suitcase in hand, and made his way up the stairs. I know that my pregnancy shouldn't be a source of such anxiety. I need to ease my mind about Roman's stubbornness. Until he realizes that my intentions are rooted in care, I must allow him the freedom to make his own choices.

After I finished washing the dishes, I managed to reach out to Roman's cousin Jonathan, also known as Jimmy Uso. I shared the news with him over the phone that Roman has not been truthful about his recovery and that he should be advised to take it easy before he ends up back in the hospital.

In our recent phone conversation, Jonathan took the time to reassure me that he would have a serious discussion with Sikoa about his behavior. It seems that they've been monitoring him closely, particularly how he has been frequently clutching his stomach while backstage. This peculiar action had raised concerns, and when I realized that I wasn't the only one who had noticed his unusual behavior, a wave of relief washed over me. It was comforting to know that I wasn't imagining things and that others were also paying attention to the signs.

However, amidst these worries, I find myself needing to shift my focus. I have to push aside my concerns about Roman and redirect my energy toward our daughter, who is set to make her grand entrance into the world in just a few short weeks. The anticipation of her arrival fills me with both excitement and anxiety, and I know that my primary responsibility now is to prepare for her and ensure that everything is ready for her to join us. It's a time of new beginnings, and I want to be fully present for her, setting aside any distractions or worries that might cloud this precious moment in our lives.

I made the decision to play COD after going upstairs to the computer room. My quiet moment was broken by a knock coming from the computer room. With a forceful entrance, Roman closed the door behind him. He asked me did I talked to his cousin, Jonathan. I declined. Roman shot me a furious look. He asked me once more, raising his voice in the process. I was honest with him and gave my reasoning for doing it. "Did not I tell your ass to stop interfering with my business? What the hell you telling him for! Now your ass is going to risk losing my job, dumbass! I thought you were smart, but no! You are just as dumb as my first wife, Galina!" He said, raising his voice to me. I did not say anything but kept my head down and tears streamed down my cheeks. "Oh cmon ! Do not tell me your ass is going to sit up here and cry in my face!? You have to be kidding!

Roman stormed out, the door crashing shut behind him. In the chaos, a cherished photo frame from our wedding shattered, scattering glass across the floor. I carefully picked up the jagged pieces, tossing them into the trash. Wiping away my tears, I caught my reflection in the mirror, wiped off my makeup, and managed a smile. I whispered to myself, "This is the reality of marriage."