Sanctuary

Chapter Thirty Two - The Finale [2/4]

I ran through the crowded streets of New York during New Year's celebration bullshit - something that's not easy to do. Especially when you can't see because your eyes are so blurry from tears.

When I finally made it back to the hotel room, I lost it. I slumped down on the floor, sobbing into my hands as my heart felt like it would explode. Dean Ambrose wanted me to marry him. I couldn't do that, right? Right? We'd only been "together" about half of a year, known eachother for about 3 but those years weren't the best.

He saw how Punk and I disintegrated, how our "love" just fucking collapsed when marriage came into the pictures. Dean fucking saw that. I saw his engagement go to hell too.

So what the hell was he thinking? And more importantly, what the hell was I going to do?

"Blue," I heard his voice along with the door, "Blue are you here?"

Quickly, I scrambled to sit up on the bed to look like I was somewhat put together.

When he came in, I looked up at him - the baffled expression on his face made a lump form in my throat,

"Why'd you run out on me?"

I shook my head as I stood, "Because Dean I can't marry you. It's too soon, its only been a few months, you don't know me, you haven't met my family, you don't know the ins and outs of who I am and I just-"

"Blue, Blue, hold on," He came around and knelt in front of me. "I know you enough and I love what I know. If you're telling me there's more to you, then goddammit that doesn't make me want to back off; if anything that makes me want you more."

"Dean it shouldn't, I'm a fucked up person, I've done shitty things to a lot of people and I've had shitty things done to me. Trust me, I'm not just a challenge, I'm worse than that, you don't want me as a wife."

"If I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten the damn ring. I know what I want, and since you're still wearing it, I feel like you know what you want." His eyes glanced to the jewel on my finger and my heart swirled around my gut. "I'm shitty as hell, I'm probably the worst fucking guy ever, and I am not perfect and you're not perfect and this isn't going to fucking be perfect either. I love you. You love me. Just do what feels right, do what is right for the both of us." He clenched my hand, "Just. Say. Yes."

I sniffled back the urge to cry again, his thumb gently wiped off my running mascara.

"Blue, come on," he basically pleaded. I shook my head, I wanted to desperately tell him he deserved better but I couldn't.

I slowly retracted my hand from his. "I uh, need some space."

"Space?"

"Yes. This all so fast, so sudden, I just need a moment to process all of it." I wiped my other eye as I felt tears begin to fall. "If that's fine with you."

He looked disappointed but nodded, "Whatever you need, Blue."

"I think I'll just carpool tomorrow with Roman to the house show in Tampa and fly back home with you the night of the PPV."

"As for tonight?" He toiled with the end of my dress. "Can you give me at least tonight?"

"For what? For me to be a crying mess?" I wiped my eyes again and stood, "Dean, go out and have a good time, please,"

He looked lost, "But I won't have any fun without you."

"I won't have any sort of fun like this, in this dazzled state. I'll just get another room for the night and be back for my stuff tomorrow morning."