forgive me || dean ambrose story

day eighteen-

*read the authors note at the end*
;)))

Dean Ambrose-

I waited and waited. I'm not ashamed, should I be?

The cold was horrific, my car was almost flat out of battery after using all of what was left to power the heaters. Heck, this isn't even my car – it may or may not be Nikki's. .

But that's beside the point.

Half of my subconscious is asking me why the hell I'm really here, the answer – I don't have a fucking clue, but the other half is telling me to walk in there, pull the biggest chocolate dessert from a serving plate and present it to Rory so she'd finally get the message.

If Nikki knew what I was doing right now – sitting in her car, across from a fancy ass New York restaurant she'd string me out for shit. But she doesn't have to know, nobody has to know. I can keep a secret, it could be like a high school love. . then again, I probably wouldn't be fine with that. Gross.

I still haven't managed to piece together why Roman was so cold with me earlier tonight, why he was being such an ass. Maybe it's because he's protective now that I'm finally back, or because I'm on a brighter path than when I left. Or maybe he's hiding something from me? I haven't really gotten all that far yet.

The cold is biting at my skin, and if I don't go somewhere soon I don't think I'll have any fingers or toes left. .

Seth says I should crash their date just for the sake of it, to prove a point. I mean, I'm nobody to be fucked with – that's for sure. I suppose it's because he knows Ziggler is treading on soft grounds. . but part of me wants Rory to get on with it.

Then the other part is screaming at me to go inside and fuck shit up.

The second option seemed to win the game of rock, paper, scissors. And I'm not ashamed at all.

In an instant, I switched off the engine, climbing out of the cold car and into the even icier street. The lock on the car sounded and I shoved the keys deep into my jeans pocket as I crossed the road.

"Excuse me sir, you need a reservation." I went to walk by the table seater guy, he stopped me with a stern look and I sighed.

"Look, I've just come back to get my jacket from the other night, I left it here with my girlfriend." I held my hands up and he stared at me for moments before gritting his teeth.

"Go on, hurry up. . I'll make sure to see you come back out."

I simply nodded, pushing past him with a grin. Little did he know that I'd already spotted 'mister Hollywood' in the corner at a table with the greatest ray of sunshine I've ever laid my eyes on. She was laughing. And I felt conflicted.

I straightened my black jacket on my shoulders and kept my head down as I headed over. Instantly I felt the urge to flip the table and give Ziggler the beating of his life for getting into business he doesn't belong in. He's never going to belong in.

I heard her laugh, I was so close. The tightness in my chest became apparent and all of the feelings I'd experienced all that time ago seemed to hit me like a train. The question begged to be answered in my mind; why did I leave?

But then the Moxley side of me switched on and I realised. She was a free woman, I'd been gone for eight months. This was my fault and now I need to make sure I fuck it all up again until she sees that I've finally changed. That's how I need to win her back.

I wasted no time, picking up a glass of red wine from a table of a man and woman as I passed. They hadn't seen me and I was coming from behind Rory so she had no idea. With my head down I threw the liquid from the glass, all over Ziggler's perfectly pearl white shirt.