Jon placed a glass of wine in front of Amber, and sat down opposite her. They'd chosen a place closer to town, with river views, and the commotion of other people was a great distraction from what they had just been covering. They sipped on their drinks in silence for a few moments, before Amber spoke up. "So where to now?" she asked, an eyebrow raised inquisitively. For the conversation? For us? But he knew what she meant. "Minneapolis. And Smackdown in Madison. Then home. Before the circus begins another rotation." She looked sideways at him. "You know, when you put it like that, it sounds like you don't enjoy it..." He scoffed quietly. "The red eye flights, the 3am wake up calls. The cramps from sitting in a car or plane too long. Forgetting which state you're in. I don't overly enjoy that." He sipped at his drink to let that sink in, the realities of being on the road. He saw her tilt her head as she comprehended it. "But that's not what you do it for," he continued, his tone noticeably brighter. "The noise, the adrenalin, the hairs on the back your neck. The people chanting your name, wearing your shirts. It's addictive." Amber's eyes dropped momentarily, then met his. "Understandable" she said. "And that sounds like a much healthier thing to let control your life." Message received, he thought. It felt like a reality slap to him, but a deserved one. I bet she's been waiting ten years to say that. I'll allow it, cos it's true. He felt that way himself.

"So, when are you gonna be the big champ?" she asked, changing tack. He smiled softly. "Only Vince knows that," he chuckled. "He has his favourites, I'm not sure I'm one of them." Amber leaned in across the table. "Surely they can't ignore the fans, Jon. You're one of their favourites." He shrugged. He knew that. Dozens of others before him knew that. But the reality was you had to be Vince's guy. "It's not that easy," he said, wondering if she'd understand the politics. "But I've been up sniffing around the title in the last year. That's promising, I guess. There's a lot of guys worse off than me." Amber swirled her wine around her mouth, then held her almost-empty glass out towards him. "A toast, then." He looked at her, amused, but lifted his equally-empty glass towards hers. "To Dean Ambrose, to Jon Moxley. To world heavyweight championships." He smirked, bowed his head in acknowledgment and tapped his glass to hers. They both finished off their drinks, smiling. "You know," Jon said, his confidence growing after the beer had taken the edge off his hesitation, "I wouldn't be anywhere near the title without you." He looked up at her, and she looked confused. She scoffed. "I don't believe that for a second," she said, shaking her head. "You've always had the drive. The talent. The desire. Plus you've done it all on your own in the last decade. I had nothing to do with that. It's always been you." But it's always been you. He wanted to blurt that out, but couldn't find the gumption to be that frank. "I know. I'm not saying I didn't work hard, just that I needed the belief. Someone who thought I could." She laughed. "The fangirl!" she chuckled. The corners of his mouth raised slightly. "Yeah, the fangirl." After a pause, he continued. "You never thought I was crazy, Ambie. You told me I had it, back when I had nothing. You'll never know how much that meant, how much I held on to that when things weren't working out." Please. Please see that I'm genuine. Amber considered that statement. "Well, I still don't think I contributed much, but I'll claim it if you're offering," she laughed. I'm insisting. Internally anyway. "Good," he replied. Here we go. Just be honest. "I've always tried to make you proud," he said, dropping his eyes to his lap. "I mean, I let you down once before and that f-king sucked. That was the moment. The moment that changed my life." He glanced up at her; her face was soft, accepting. "I've worked these past ten years to know, at least within myself, that I could become someone you'd be proud of again." Amber reached her hand across the table. "Of course I'm proud of you, Jon," she said softly. "To come from where you were, to this? It's everything you dreamed of, and everything I hoped for. Even when I didn't know where you were, I hoped you were still climbing the mountain." Jon looked into her eyes, and her faith in him was palpable. He could feel a heat rise in his cheeks. Holy crap, am I blushing? He shook his head firmly once, bringing his attention back into the moment. "So," he said raising his now-empty glass. "To fangirls." Amber's head rolled back and she giggled silently. "To fangirls," she repeated, completing his toast.

Amber drove Jon back to his hotel. They both got out of her car. What now? he thought. He came round to her side of the car. What a whirlwind this has been. And where the hell does it go from here? "Another day, another dollar huh?" Amber said, awkwardly. "Yeah, another flight, another terrible inflight safety video," he replied. They looked at each other, and then quickly away again. Jon looked past Amber; back out towards the city, back towards their history. He felt a wash of electricity run through him rapidly. Another chapter in a book I thought was long gone. The last time he was this reluctant to leave Cincinnati, he was about to make the stupidest mistake of his life. Since then, every time he'd come back, he was desperate to get out of the place. It had held nothing but bad, sad memories for him. Until this weekend. But he had to go. His crowd would be calling for him tomorrow night. It's not a mistake to leave this time, right? He looked back to Amber, lingering, looking at her hands. Maybe she doesn't want this to end either. Or maybe she's too sad to know what to do. She looked a bit sheepish, almost innocent. For a brief moment, she looked 17 again. She leaned back against her car, looking at him. Jon stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked back at her. How do you say goodbye to someone who has such a huge part of you? Whether they saw each other again or went another ten years, he knew he'd never drop Amber. Especially after clearing the air this weekend.

"You'll miss your flight." Amber finally broke the silence. Jon shrugged. If he stayed any longer, it was true. But he didn't really care. "I won't have you miss a show on my account," she chuckled, pushing herself gently off the car. "Crazy day, huh?" she asked, her voice soft. There was no way he could sum up today in one word, so crazy seemed suitable enough. He tossed around a few lines in his head, but they all sounded cheesy. "Mmmm," he grunted in agreeance. He couldn't let go of the fact he was the one having to cut their time short. Again, he was the one ending things, against his will. He looked up at her, feeling a change in her demeanour. She was blinking back tears. "I think I really needed this," she said, a half smile crossing her face. "It's been a long time." She sighed. "And now I know you're okay, you're doing just fine. That's a big relief for me." Same, he thought to himself. You don't know how many nights I stared at the ceiling wondering if you were okay. But of course, he couldn't say that. "It's been so good to see you," he managed. Understatement of the year. Of the decade. Amber swallowed, a couple more tears blinked away. "Yeah, it has," she whispered. Jon's eyes flicked down to the ground then back up to her, and she powered towards him. She slipped her arms under his and pulled herself against his chest. Muscle memory took over, and Jon's arms wrapped around her. He nuzzled his head in against her hair, like he used to, and took her in. He was surprised at how familiar it felt, having her in his arms. It's because you spent years thinking about it, even when she wasn't around, a voice in his head told him. He instinctively tightened his grip, wanting to imprint the feeling in his mind once more. Amber's hand moved up and down his back gently, and he wished he could feel it on his skin. He sighed in content. This moment, if nothing else, is perfect.

They stayed in the embrace for a few moments, before he felt Amber pull back slightly. He released his grip, but not completely, allowing her to stand before him, with his arms loosely around her waist. Turns out you're not quite ready to let her go. She reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Yes, put your number in, he thought. Why didn't I think of that? He remained silent, watching her thumbs move. How does she do that so quickly? When she finished, she slipped the phone back into his pocket. "Good," he said, showing he was in favour of having her number. "You're good, Good," she said, smiling up at him. It had been ten years since he'd heard that. In fact, he heard it a lot, but she used to say it all the time, thinking she was quite the comedian. There was a cheeky glint in her eye, and he couldn't stop himself from chuckling. "You better go," she said, bowing her head in acceptance that their moment was over. Dammit. "Yeah," he replied, trying not to sound like a punished child. She pulled her hands back from around his waist and he reluctantly did the same. The space between them had not lessened, however. "Take care, Amber," he said, sure to scan her eyes one last time for future reference. You'll always have a part of me, I hope you know that. He hoped that sentiment read on his face. "You too, Dean Ambrose," she said, raising a hand to him, pushing a scruffy tuft of hair out of his eyes. Her fingers lingered on his face, warm and soft on his skin. Jon could hear his heart. Surely she can too? Amber reached up on her toes and placed her lips against his softly. Oh my god. For a moment he couldn't respond, keeping his eyes open to ensure what was actually happening. She's kissing you. Kiss her, you fool! He brought his hands to her waist, slowly moving his lips against hers. He heard her inhale, and respond against him. I remember this. I remember her. Her hand came to rest on his side, and gently gripped his t shirt. Their lips brushed each other once more, before she leaned back on to her heels, sighing. "You too," she repeated, giving him a half-smile before turning back towards her car. Biting his lip as he watched her walk away, he sighed heavily himself. Til we meet again, Amber Rose.

An hour later, Jon was sitting in airport lounge, awaiting his boarding call. Ordinarily he'd have his face buried in a book; not so much for the reading material, but to serve as a camouflage device from other travellers. But his head was a rollercoaster. He knew he couldn't concentrate on a book right now. Or anything. The only scenes being played in his head were every moment of the past 36 hours. He never thought he'd see Amber again, before yesterday. Now, he knew where to find her. He knew she'd had the chance to talk about the baby, to let out what she'd been keeping inside for so long. And likewise for him. He'd finally got to express the apology he'd been carrying in his soul all these years. And she's proud of me. After everything, I heard her say those words. A loud beep from his phone interrupted his thoughts. Maybe it's Amber, he thought. As he pulled out his phone, he saw it was from Terry, his travel manager. You idiot, she doesn't have your number yet. Jon typed out a reply, letting Terry know that, yes, he was at the airport on time and would be in Minneapolis later tonight. Just as he went to turn his phone off, he noticed a text message to an unknown number. He opened it, frowning, before breaking into a wide smile.
"Hey Amber, thanks for a GOOD weekend. It was great to see you and catch up on life. Next time I roll into town, dinner on me, okay? And I'll get you front row tickets to the show, only the best for the original fangirl. I'll call you when I land. Mox."