Who Do You Love - Dean Ambrose

Chapter 2: Fuckin' Stepford

Having been away for the grand total of three months, I had forgotten how pretty my hometown really was and so as Dean blew out a breath as we wound towards Main Street, I actually felt my chest swell with pride.

"You grew up here? Holy shit. This place is like a fuckin' postcard."

"You think so?" I beamed, watching him glance around us and drink in the weather boarding, bunting and boutique shops.

"Are you kiddin' me? It's like fuckin' Stepford."

I frowned a little,

"That's a compliment, right?"

Fortunately his adorably wide-eyed expression pretty much confirmed it was and I watched in amusement as we skirted the lakeside, heading for the suburbs and my mom's little house. Dawn was breaking across the green hills around us and the pale morning light painted everything gold. I could certainly see why Dean was so enamoured and I was happy to be there –

But it was no longer my home.

It had been my home and I had been happy there, but coming back made me realize how much I'd grown. In the three short months since I'd abandoned Wisconsin, Dean and Las Vegas had become my home and that realization was as oddly gut-wrenching as it was empowering.

I had made a new home.

Besides which, I had found myself an entirely new family and not just in Seth and Roman but with real blood relationstoo.

Initially, when I had upped and left Wisconsin, it had been to find Hunter Helmsley – my dad. In the process of meeting him and building that relationship, I had also managed to stumble across Dean and the events that followed had changed me so completely, that I almost didn't recognize Wisconsin Lauren anymore.

She had been lonely and devoid of direction, whereas now I not only had purpose and conviction, but I also had a definable place.

I was a daughter, a stepdaughter and a girlfriend.

It was all so much more than I could ever have hoped to have.

I was so deep in thought and philosophical musing that I even barely registered we had turned into my street and so I jumped a little as Dean coughed beside me and glanced at the neat little houses,

"Which one's yours?"

"The white one," I pointed, straining forward against my seatbelt and feeling a burst of excitement, "On the right. Steps up to the porch, pink flowers in the baskets."

"Of course it is," Dean grinned teasingly, "I should have fuckin' know."

I didn't ask what he meant.

Instead I bit back of squeak of emotion as he smoothly swung our rental up onto the drive. I was out of my seat again before he'd even killed the engine and staring up at the familiar structure.

"Hi mom."

That was the one thing I had missed above everything – the fact that it still felt like she was there. Las Vegas was great and I was blissfully happy, but in Wisconsin I would always be closest to her.