Finally, the next chapter! So sorry for the wait, y'all. On another note, I do hope that Seth cashes his Money in the Bank contract at Wrestlemania.

Seth's words echoed in her head…

When you need to talk to someone, I'm here for you. When you want to call me up to hang out, then don't hesitate; I'll be in the Los Angeles area for the next couple of days…

At this point, she'd had enough. Now that the window of opportunity had burst open, she was ready to step right into it. She picked up her phone and dialed the number scribbled on the piece of paper.

Hans can go fuck himself in hell. She was going to take the chance and prove to Colby that she hadn't changed since day one.

Seth returned back to his hotel room, his head ringing from the loud atmosphere of the bar he, Dean, Cesaro, and Roman had visited after the show. He was usually in dire need of a little liquid courage after an exhausting main event, participating in the social convention of socializing with his fellow bar patrons. Tonight, however, he was in no mood for taking shots. Instead, he'd sat quietly by the bar, slowly sipping his bottle of Coors Lite, while his fellow colleagues chatted up a couple of pretty blondes loitering by the bar.

His mind had been—and still was—preoccupied with the image of the beautiful redhead who'd shown up at the show tonight.

Lara Lemay had taken his breath away the minute he laid eyes on her that evening. He was thankful for the bastard who'd managed to pull strings and get her and her friend Pam front row seats so he could take a good look at her, but he managed to get a better, longer view when he was able to lure her backstage. No more was the cute, (not so) innocent teenager he remembered from his childhood in Davenport.

He checked his phone for any last minute texts, Facebook notifications, and such before plugging it in and switching off the lamp on his nightstand before comfortably settling into the plush, queen-sized mattress.

Suddenly, at that very moment, his call ringtone blasted loudly, giving him a rather terrible fright. He sighed in frustration; he'd forgotten to put his phone on silent. He was nearly on the verge of smashing his phone to bits when he noticed that the number calling him had a Beverly Hills area code. Could it be…?

"Hello?"

"Colby? It's me, Lara."

"Lara…" Colby began.

"Colby, any change you'll still be in LA tomorrow? Or for the next couple of weeks?"

Colby felt his heart skip a beat. "I'll be in LA for…"

"I need to get away from my son of a bitch husband, Colby. God! I am so fucking sick of him!" Lara lost her temper and began ranting in frustration, "you know, every time he leaves for one of his fucking business trips, the only time he even messages me is when he needs me to do something for him. Like make him a fucking sandwich or something, or go to CVS and get him his favorite fucking cologne. He doesn't even say hi, please, thank you, or anything that shows some form of fucking appreciation for my existence. And he expects me to dress like a motherfucking whore for him when he comes back. I mean, how am I supposed to cook his fucking alfredo if I'm wearing nothing but a dress and heels?"

"Woah, calm down there, sweetheart. It's a little late to be dropping F-bombs," laughed Colby, "so I was saying that I'll be in LA area for the next couple of days."

"Colby, I want to get away from Beverly Hills and everything that reminds me of Hans fucking Epperly," Lara breathed, exasperated, "any chance you'll be able to meet up tomorrow?"

"For you, Lara, anything."

He'd slept like a baby that night, something that was rare for the very stressful WWE Superstar. And as he had slept soundly, Lara's face called to him in his dreams. Waking up refreshed for the first time in ages, he chose to wear his favorite dress shirt, something he usually reserved for very special occasions such as Hall of Fame ceremonies. Wanting to look presentable for someone he hadn't seen in years, he shaved his ragged beard till there was just the right amount of five o'clock shadow, and combed his hair neatly and tied it back into a ponytail.

He'd run into Dean Ambrose, who'd just finished his morning workout, on the way down to the lobby that morning.

"This is the first time I've seen you wear a suit for something that isn't going to be shown on RAW, Rollins," Dean remarked, taking in his tag team partner's choice of clothing, "this girl must be special."

"Obviously," scoffed Colby, tugging at his collar, "you know I don't do this kind of romantic shit unless it's someone special."

"I don't think I've ever seen you so worked up over a girl since you broke up with your last girlfriend," replied Dean, "I mean you haven't seen her for all these years, and all of a sudden she shows up out of nowhere. Don't you think something's fishy?"

"I know Lara well enough to know that she sure as hell isn't up to anything," Colby snapped immediately, "just because your relationship with Renee is falling out doesn't mean you have to distrust every other pretty woman you come across."

"I'm just looking out for you, man. You were doing pretty well with Leighla until you caught her and Ziggler's brother sucking each other's faces that night." Colby groaned at the memory of his ex-girlfriend passionately kissing Briley Pierce, the real life brother of Dolph Ziggler, in a bar after a live show.

"I'll catch up with you later, Ambrose, I gotta go meet the woman I can't stop thinking about ever since she showed up out of nowhere on RAW," Colby shoved past Ambrose and headed straight for the elevators. As soon as he hopped into his car, he turned up some tunes of his favorite band, A Day to Remember, coded the address Lara texted him into his phone's GPS, and sped towards Beverly Hills.

Colby always found the organized rows of palm trees and sunny weather of Los Angeles absolutely enchanting, but he felt rather uncomfortable as he passed mansion after one, with each estate outsizing and fancier than the last. The red Toyota Corolla that he'd rented from LAX upon arrival stuck out like a sore thumb among the Porsches, BMWs, and Audis. Colby felt rather starstruck; it was difficult not to gawk at every single mansion that he passed without accidentally swerving into the wrong lane.

Finally, after what felt like nearly half an hour of winding through roads, Colby took a right into Summit Circle and, to his surprise, was forced to pull up next to a guardhouse. The guard instantly became suspicious as he eyed the plain, austere Toyota Corolla and Colby's half-blond head.

"I'm here to see Lara Lemay, Hans Epperly's wife," Colby informed the guard, the last three words subtly dripping with venom. He gave the address that Lara had texted him as well as his driver's license to the guard, who still eyed him suspiciously. "Mister, I need to make sure that Miss Lemay knows that you're here..."

All of a sudden, the guard's phone rang and he turned on the speaker. "Hello Serge?" Colby recognized Lara's sweet melodious voice, "Has Colby Lopez arrived yet? If so then could you please let him in? I invited him over."

Colby had to hold back a laugh. He knew better than anyone else that Lara had impeccable timing.

"No problem, Miss Lemay. You're free to go in, Mr. Lopez." Silently chuckling at the formalities, Colby drove through the pearly gates.

Colby's jaw literally dropped when he pulled up onto the circular driveway of Number 12055 where a leggy redhead stood by the front door left ajar. He could hardly believe that this was the type of lifestyle Lara had traded for her simple life in Davenport for; it was almost as though he'd stepped into Keeping Up with the Kardashians. When he first saw her at the RAW show, he thought that with her incredible amount of makeup, Hans Epperly had effectively transformed the girl next door he grew up with into a sexualized, material Barbie, but this time, what she wore hinted that somewhere deep inside of that pretty trophy wife getup, she was still the same. She looked relaxed yet beautiful wearing an A Day to Remember muscle tee and boyfriend denim jeans with frays and cut-out holes around the knees, with her long red hair woven into a messy braid. She was biting her lip as though she were refraining from bursting into a heartfelt smile. It almost reminded Colby of the time they went on a "date" when they were thirteen and he and his parents were picking Lara up to bring them to the movies. Although today wasn't technically a 'date', Colby still as giddy as though he was in high school all over again.

Colby noticed how the gardener pruning the bushes watched his car with a peculiar expression, as though he were a spaceship that had come from outer space. He parked the rental Corolla a few steps from where Lara stood and hopped out of the car.

As she watched Colby make his entrance, Lara couldn't help but flutter her eyelashes, taking in how classy Colby looked in a dress shirt, pants, and sunglasses. It almost reminded her of a James Dean, just the way he seemed to stride with confidence. Though she knew for a fact that Colby pretty much hated getting dressed up, this was a sight that she definitely didn't mind at all.

"Hey..." Colby said softly, slowly approaching her.

"Hey," Lara replied in return. Her heart and her head were raging inside of her; one part of her wanted to jump in his arms and kiss the living daylights out of him, the other reminded her that she was, and still is, married to Hans, and couldn't risk letting anyone see her being affectionate to another man in public.

Even if that other man was the best friend she'd ever had.

Colby stared around the inside of the stately Epperly mansion, his jaw agape in awe. He felt as though he were in one of those reality TV shows on the E! Network; there was not a single spot in the house that wasn't gleaming with polish, the hanging chandelier twinkled so brilliantly it nearly blinded him just looking at it, and every piece of furniture and decorative accent was placed so perfectly he wondered how much staff Hans had hired to make his house the perfect model for a home living magazine. When Lara led him to the back of the mansion, Colby couldn't help but gasp, "Holy shit" when an expansive pool area with lines of deck chairs, an outdoor couch, and a bright cerulean hot tub greeted his sight. His auburn-haired companion chuckled softly next to him.

"It's quite a house, isn't it?" Lara muttered quietly, a small smile on her face.

"Lara, this isn't a house. It's a fucking castle." The moment he'd entered the neighborhood, Colby was still in disbelief.

"It's an incredible place to live in; hell, it's bigger than at least seven of the houses in our neighborhood combined, but trust me, it's only fun for the first five minutes," Lara's face began to fall, "when half of the time you're all by yourself in this massive house, you feel so small, and even though it feels like you could have everything you wanted and needed in this expansive place, you just wish you could have someone who'd be willing to take you away from this place."

"He does this a lot, you know," continued Lara, as her body sank into one of the sunbeds by the pool. Instinctively, Colby joined her on the sunbed and snaked an arm around her slumped shoulders, "he'll go away for a week or two, then come back for a couple of days because he claims he can't be gone too long without me, and then he'll take off again to Vegas or Cabo or someplace with casinos and alcohol. He'll send me a text asking me to get some things for him while he's gone, and when he returns home, he expects me to dress up as a way to welcome him home. Sometimes he'll be in a bad mood, and he'll throw the dinner I made for him, the dinner that he asked me to make for him, into the trash, telling me that he doesn't have time for my half-assed cooking and he'll call up one of our resident chefs to make him something. I want to slap his stupid face so bad, Colby; you have no idea. I'm so sick of being unappreciated and dealing with people like him who aren't grateful for what I do for them."

"Then why not get a divorce?" suggested Colby hopefully.

"It's really not as easy as it sounds," sighed Lara, leaning her head on Colby's shoulder, "there's so much mess involved, and I can't explain it all."

Colby rested his chin on top of her head, holding her closer to him. "When the time comes, when you've figured it out, let me know, Lara. Sixteen years without us talking at all is far too long."

"So today, and for the next couple of days until he gets back, we're going to makeup for sixteen years of lost time. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want me to go, Lara, just say the word," promised Colby, pulling her up to stand.

Lara grinned and led him back inside the mansion. "How about we go grab a bite to takeout and enjoy it in the park today?" she suggested, ascending up the stairs towards her bedroom, "it's 75 degrees out and I don't want to be stuck inside all day."

"We could find a deli or something a little fancy, if that's what you prefer," Colby said in a somewhat cautious tone to Lara, as the latter picked out a set of clothing from her expansive walk-in closet.

"Actually, how about In-N-Out?" Lara suggested hopefully. Colby grinned; now that was the Lara Lemay that he knew. He decided to ditch the stupid tie, undid the first couple of buttons of his dress shirt, and rolled up his sleeves.