Unexplainable [Original Version]

[chapter sixty-eight: "on a night like this"]

"What's going on tonight, brother? How're you holding up?" Paul asks.

"Ah, I'm okay, man. Just been thinking a lot, you know?" I laugh somewhat nervously. "Kev's left to go bitch at Eric about Joli's suspension. He said he'd be gone a while."

"Oh yeah, she's been gone a while, hasn't she?" Paul says thoughtfully. "She called me like a day or so after it happened and she was pissed as all fuck. She's still out right now?" He's shocked. "Damn."

"It's been a mess, bro." I tell him before taking a long drink of my beer. It's almost completely empty now. "Eric hates her, and she hates him. He doesn't really want her back, I don't think. At the same time, he doesn't want to get rid of her." I shrug, even though he can't see it. "It's shit."

"He's always sounded like a little cunt." Paul scoffs. "I know Joli can be a bit much sometimes, but she never really picks a fight with anyone unless she has a damn good reason. If Bischoff provoked her into trying to smack him, he's had to have said or done a lot of shit to piss her off."

There it goes. That feeling of dread in my stomach is bubbling up again.

"I wish I remembered it, man, but I was way too fucked up." I hate admitting that. "And who knows what the fuck happened that day after I left the room?" I then pause. "That's a real fucked up thing about it. It's her word vs his, and where he's up Ted Turner's ass, his word is automatically more credible."

"It's bullshit, brother. It's complete bullshit. He sounds like he's as big of a bitch as Bret." Paul then adds, "So, what do you remember of that day?"

I tell Paul everything I can, about how I wasn't mentally there and the argument came out of no where. The more I say out loud, the more I begin to realize one big thing.

"It all started because of me." I muttered dryly. I pop open another beer. "Joli's fuckin' suspension goes back to me."

As soon as that realization hits me, my mood goes into the fuckin' toilet. It's my fault.

"Scott, it's not your fault that your company is being led by an incompetent asshole that has some sort of hatred for Jolene." Paul grunts. "This isn't on you."

"Yeah it is, man." I reply after I've downed half of beer number three. "Eric must have been saying shit about me that was probably true, but it pissed Joli off. The fight that got her suspended was started because of me."

"Scott, stop." Paul's trying to level me out, but it's not working.

"Paul, it all goes back to me." I feel like I'm about to start rambling, but I don't care. "Since I came back, I've made her life hell. Her ankle injury happened because I was reckless. I fucked up the spot. I knocked Stevie into her."

"Then," I continue, "I break her heart by kissing her on television in front of the whole goddamned world. There she is, trying to work towards fully giving Kev - my fuckin' best friend - her heart, and I pull that shit on her."

"Scott, just-"

"Right when the wolfpac starts, I get fucked up again. I go away for a while and get better." I laugh. "Then, like always, I soon crash again. Now, here we are in 1999-"

"Scott-"

"-and I've gotten her suspended from the company! I was being shitty and got called on it, and Joli-"

"Scott!" It's not until Paul snaps at me that I close my mouth. "Jesus fucking Christ, stop!"

This might be the angriest Paul has ever been at me, at least that I've known. Or maybe he's not angry, and he just wants me to shut up?

I don't know.

When Paul realizes that I'm going to let him speak, he does just that.

"There are a lot of things that I know about Jolene Milford, Scott." His tone has softened drastically. "I know she likes the scent of peaches. I know she drives like a fuckin' 90 year old woman. I know that she is competitive as hell at board games, especially when it's late at night and she's tired and cranky. I'm fairly certain that romance movies are her guilty pleasure, because I pay attention to what's playing in the background when she calls me."

This stupid, loving smile comes to my lips as Paul talks about Jolene. I love her. I always will.

"She'd also risk her life for a cigarette, just because she doesn't want to go longer without a smoke than she has to." Paul continues. "But, you want to know the one thing that I'm the most certain of when it comes to Jolene? The one thing that I swear by the Kliq tattoo on her neck is true?"

Goddamn, I want to see her ink. She cares too much for us. I don't deserve her.

"What is that, man?" I ask, when I realize Paul has been waiting for me to say anything. I guess he thought I might've ended the call or something.

"I know that she would never once blame you for any of the shit that has happened to her." Paul's words hit me with a slap of reality like a damn bus. "She'd rather die than blame you for her injury or her suspension."

We sit here in silence for a moment, because I don't know what to say. He's right, he has to be. Jolene's too kind and caring and loving and perfect to put the blame on me.

"She doesn't blame me," I say quietly, "but she should. It's all my fault."

"It's not, Scott." Paul sighs heavily. "It's really not. I know that's hard to see, but you haven't fucked her life up. Jolene does love you, though I can't say how or in what way anymore. There's nothing in this messed-up world that could make her hate you. She accepts everything that has happened, and she takes responsibility for her fight with Bischoff."

"... You always make sense, even when I don't want you to." I chuckle softly before downing the rest of my beer. "Fuck you, man." I don't mean that in a mean way, and Paul knows that because he laughs as well.

"I'm glad to know that I'm as loved as ever." Paul jokes. I grin even wider.

Paul and I talk for about fifteen minutes longer before he ends the call, saying that he's got some stuff to take care of before he goes to bed. He's probably going to fuck his girl, but that's okay. I'm happy for him.

Once Paul and I end our call, I start drinking the last of the six-pack of beer I brought to the table. My mind is swirling tonight, even more than usual. I hate that I'm thinking so much about Joli, but it's hard not to on a night like this.

I know she doesn't hate me or blame me or have any ill wishes for me, but I truly hate that I've been so bad for her. Even though none of it has been intentional, I've put her through so much shit and that kills me every day.

All I've ever wanted is her happiness.

By the time Kev comes back into the room, I'm drifting off into sleep. I'm not completely there yet, but I'm also not going to move and roll around and talk to Kev. We can catch up in the morning.

Besides, I'd really just rather go to sleep right now. My head is killing me, and so is my heart. Some of what Paul said fuckin' stung, but I know he's right.

Kev rummages around for a couple of minutes before settling down on his bed. I hear him crack open a beer before dialing up someone on the phone.

I'm sure it's Joli.

The last thing I hear before I finally drift off into sleep sends me to bed a lot happier than I had been.

"Babe? I talked to Bischoff. Get your sweet little ass on a plane first thing in the morning; you're making your return on Nitro tomorrow."