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msbigredmachine · 2 months ago

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New To This - Chapter 18

MASTERLIST

Delilah leaned against the locker room bench, utterly drained. Her body ached in places she didn’t even know could hurt, and the weight of exhaustion pressed on her chest like a boulder. Last night had been�� intense, to say the least. Between the altercation with Yandi, the stress of competition, and her “training” session in her room with Josh, she’d barely managed to scrape together two hours of sleep. Now, the morning tournament loomed over her like a cruel taskmaster, demanding strength she wasn’t sure she had left.

The locker room buzzed with quiet conversation as a few girls chatted in the corner. Their laughter felt distant and foreign, like it came from another world where people weren’t suffocating under the weight of expectations. Delilah couldn’t bring herself to join in—or even to care. If she could just survive this day without anyone bothering her, she’d consider it a victory.

She had just finished lacing up her boots when a voice cut through her solitude.

“You hear that Yandi got kicked out of the tournament?”

Delilah glanced up to see a young, dark-skinned woman, bright-eyed and confident, plop down beside her. The girl grinned, clearly expecting some kind of response, but Delilah’s exhaustion wouldn’t let her muster more than a faint shrug.

“Thanks, by the way,” the girl continued, undeterred. “That’s one less bitch to worry about.”

Delilah raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Right,” she replied coolly, returning to her bag for a roll of tape. The news should have brought her some relief—Yandi had been an absolute menace to her—but right now, even relief felt like too much effort.

“I’m Temi,” the girl introduced herself, extending a hand into Delilah’s line of sight. When Delilah didn’t reciprocate, Temi simply cracked her knuckles and leaned back against the lockers. “Brrr, cold. Everyone knows she started the fight, so you can chill. You don’t gotta worry about that bitch no more.”

Before Delilah could respond, Temi stood and gave her a friendly pat on the back. “She was just jealous. She’s about the only girl in this locker room that hasn’t fucked a famous wrestler at some point.”

Delilah froze mid-wrap, her head snapping up to meet Temi’s smirking gaze. “Excuse me?”

Temi shrugged, completely unfazed. “I mean, it’s not exactly a secret, is it? You’ve been hanging out with Jey, right? People talk.”

Delilah’s stomach churned. “How do they even know that?”

Temi chuckled as two other girls sauntered over, joining the conversation. “You train with, what? Five, six other girls?” she asked. Delilah held up five fingers, her expression guarded. “And you’re the only one with a WWE contract? Bitches talk, babe, mostly out of jealousy. Then Jey shows up at your gym a couple of times? Somebody sees him around town? They've probably seen y'all together, too. People notice things.”

“And they connect the dots,” one of the other girls chimed in. “Or, you know, they make up their own dots. Doesn’t matter. Somebody’s always watching you now.”

That realization hit Delilah like a freight train. She’d known the spotlight would come with scrutiny, but this was different. It wasn’t just trainers and scouts evaluating her potential; it was everyone. Every move she made, every interaction, every whisper—it was all under a microscope.

“How long you been doing this?” Delilah asked, trying to steady her voice.

Temi smirked, bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “Six years. And yeah, I’ve been through it. We all have.” She gestured to the girls behind her. “Cassie over there? She’s been hooking up with Damian Priest.”

Cassie beamed. “He’s flying me to New York after the tournament. We’re spending the week together.”

“Lauryn?” Temi nodded at the other girl. “She had a thing with Montez and Bianca. At the same time.”

Delilah’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

Lauryn shrugged. “It was fun. They’re premiere athletes for a good reason.”

It was getting more and more difficult to keep her jaw from dropping. “And you?” Delilah pressed, crossing her arms. “What’s your story?” When the girls behind her giggled, Delilah's eyebrow shot up. "Who?"

Lauryn put a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Temi here has seduced no less than three world champions," she winked, counting off on her fingers. "Rollins, Punk, and Drew. She was all their first dark meat."

Shaking her head, Delilah’s mouth finally fell open. "Bullshit," she spat. "There is no fucking way."

Temi just nodded confidently. "Oh, there's a way," she assured. "Actually, with Rollins, there's a lotta ways," she smirked, reaching out to pat Delilah's shoulder in reassurance. "Listen, Yandi's a bitch. Nobody likes her, and now she's gone. Let that shit go," she advised with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Do your thing. Go as far as you can in this tournament. Boost your profile. You’ll need it when you start training properly at the Performance Center."

As the girls filed out, Delilah couldn’t shake the conversation. Their blasé attitudes, their stories, their warnings—it was all too much. She turned to the mirror, adjusting her gear when another voice, low and cool, cut through her thoughts again.

“So you’re the one he left me for.”

Delilah spun around, her eyes narrowing at the woman who stepped out of the shadows, immediately put Delilah on edge. She’d seen her wrestle several times through this tournament. Chloe. A striking presence both in and out of the ring, her athletic build and confident demeanor commanding attention wherever she went. With a rich brown complexion that seemed to glow under the spotlight and expressive hazel eyes, her curls, often styled in bold, intricate looks, were as dynamic as her wrestling persona—a combination of grace and grit that made her memorable. Offstage, she didn’t interact much with the others, a guarded side to her, shaped by the challenges she had faced in a male-dominated industry.

“I come in peace,” Chloe said with a faint smirk. “I was listening in on all the bragging. Quite the stellar lineup of superstars, huh? If only most of them weren’t recycled. Like yours, sorry to say.”

“What are you talking about?” Delilah asked, her voice sharp.

She extended a hand. “I’m Chloe.” When Delilah didn’t shake it, Chloe shrugged. “You’re not the only one Josh has had a fling with.”

Delilah frowned. “What the hell does that mean?”

Chloe smirked as she leaned against the lockers, her tone casual but tinged with a deliberate edge. “It was about two years ago, back in Atlanta. I was out with some girlfriends celebrating a birthday—looking fine, if I do say so myself—when Josh and his crew strolled into the club after SmackDown. His presence was impossible to ignore; he had that swagger, you know? I caught him looking at me from across the room, and let’s just say, he wasn’t subtle. He sent over a drink, then another, and before I knew it, I was in the VIP section with him. He had this way of making you feel like you were the only woman in the room. Smooth, charming, with that cocky little smirk that told you he thought he had you wrapped around his finger. And yeah, I guess he did—at least for a while.”

Delilah was speechless. Sounds about right.

She paused, brushing imaginary lint off her sleeve, as if the memory wasn’t worth more than a moment’s thought. “But, you know, it fizzled out. He wasn’t exactly available, if you catch my drift.” Her eyes flick to Delilah meaningfully. “Married men have a way of forgetting their wedding rings when they’re on the road. And sure, it was fun at first, but it got old fast. Sneaking around, his half-assed excuses, him dodging my calls when he was in town sometimes? Not my style. I don’t chase nobody, so I ended it. Of course, he didn’t take it too hard—men like Josh always find someone else to keep them entertained.” She flashed a smug smile. “Looks like you’re the lucky rebound.”

Delilah’s stomach churned as the words sank in. For nearly a year she’d been seeing Josh, and not once had he mentioned anything like this. The idea that she could be just another notch on his belt—the way Chloe clearly saw her—made her heart twist. Her hands tightened into fists at her sides, but she forced her face to remain neutral, unwilling to give Chloe the satisfaction of seeing her rattle. Still, the revelation gnawed at her, a sour taste rising in her throat as she wondered if everything she thought she had with Josh was just another game to him.

But just as she feared, Chloe could see right through her thoughts. She flashed Delilah a kind smile. “Don’t worry, sweetie, that’s all said and done. It’s all in the past. Besides, I think I’ve more than upgraded.”

Delilah’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

Chloe leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. “I woulda said his name out loud, but the NDA I signed means I can’t say much.” Her smirk widened. “I could show you though, if you’d like.”

Delilah couldn’t help but nod, curiosity getting the best of her. She watched as Chloe pulled out her phone. She handed Delilah an AirPod. “You’re the only one I’m showing this to, so if this gets out, it's you, and I'll fuck you up.”

Delilah hesitated, but eventually placed the AirPod in her ear. The video on Chloe’s phone played, showing a man with long, dark hair between Chloe’s legs, his hands gripping her thighs as her moans rang through Delilah’s ears. Her breath hitched as the man lifted his head, revealing Roman Reigns’ unmistakable face.

He licked his lips, smirked at the camera, and growled, “Turn that shit off.”

The video cut, and Delilah stared at Chloe in complete shock.

“Hot, right?” Chloe teased, fanning herself dramatically. “That family’s got top-tier pussy eaters.” She shrugged. “But here’s the thing: to them, we’re not special. Just another warm body. Don’t take it personal. Use them for what they’re worth—get your rent paid, get a contract, whatever. But don’t give them your heart. That’s the game, sweetheart. If you wanna survive this business, you need to learn how to play it.”

--------------

Thankfully, the remainder of the tournament unfolded without a hitch. Delilah advanced to the semi-finals, where her journey came to an end. Though she didn’t take home the win, she left with a sense of accomplishment and gratitude for the experience. By the time she was heading back to Pensacola, she was content with how far she had come. True to his word, Josh had upgraded her seat to first class so they could sit together on the flight back. It wasn’t just a plane ride; it felt like their own private six-hour date in the sky.

They made the most of every moment. Between sharing a few tequila shots, stealing sweet kisses, and watching movies, they fell into an easy rhythm that felt both playful and intimate. As the hours passed, they curled up together, their seats reclined into makeshift beds. Delilah found comfort in the warmth of Josh’s embrace, and before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep with his arm draped protectively around her. For those fleeting hours, it was as if the outside world didn’t exist—just the two of them savoring what little time they had left.

But as the plane began its descent into Pensacola, reality crept back in. Delilah’s chest tightened with the weight of what was coming next. When the wheels touched down, she felt a sharp pang in her heart, knowing this was the moment they’d part ways for good. The knowledge made her throat ache, and she wished, just for a second, that they had a little more time.

The private wing of the airport felt colder than it should have, the early morning silence pressing heavily on Delilah’s chest. Josh stood in front of her, his duffel slung casually over his shoulder, but his eyes told a different story—there was a heaviness in them that mirrored the ache in her heart. They had shared so many moments, stolen kisses, and whispered secrets over the past year, but this felt like the end of something neither of them was truly ready to let go of.

Josh rubbed the back of his neck and exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders sagging under the weight of their unspoken goodbye. “So this is it, huh,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, as though speaking louder would shatter the fragile connection still lingering between them.

Delilah bit her lip, willing herself not to cry, but it was a losing battle. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “This is it.” Her words trembled under the weight of her emotions. She knew this was the right decision—for her career, for her sanity—but it didn’t make it any easier to let go of someone who had become so much a part of her world.

Josh stepped closer, his thumb tracing the curve of her bottom lip, a touch so gentle it made her knees weak. “You gon’ miss me?” he asked, his tone teasing but laced with an undeniable sadness.

Delilah’s lip trembled despite her best efforts, and her eyes filled with tears. “More than you’ll ever know,” she admitted, her voice cracking. The truth of it burned in her throat. She would miss the way he made her laugh, the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the room, the way he always knew just what to say to calm her nerves. She would miss everything about him, and the thought of not having him in her life felt unbearable.

Josh didn’t respond right away. Instead, he pulled her into his arms, holding her so tightly she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear the moment she let go, her tears soaking into his shirt.

“I don’t wanna let you go,” she whispered, her voice breaking with raw emotion.

He pressed his lips to her hair, his own voice thick with longing. “Then don’t.” The words hung in the air between them—a plea, a promise, and a goodbye all at once.

Delilah pulled back just enough to look up at him, her hand resting on his cheek. “We have to,” she said, her voice steady despite the tears clogging it. “I can’t do this right now, Josh. I need to focus on my career, and you—” She stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat. “You need to figure out what you want.”

Josh’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might argue, might ask her to stay, but he didn’t. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. It wasn’t the kind of kiss meant to ignite a fire; it was the kind meant to say everything he couldn’t put into words. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against hers. “Take care, Delilah,” he murmured, his voice so soft she almost didn’t hear it.

“You too,” she whispered, her voice trembling. She forced a weak smile, though her heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces. “And thank you… for everything.”

Josh just nodded, his dark eyes searching hers for a moment longer before he stepped back, creating a distance that felt insurmountable. For a split second, Delilah considered running after him, begging him to stay, but she knew it wouldn’t change anything. She had to let him go.

As she watched him walk away, her chest tightened, the reality of their parting sinking in. Tank, standing a few feet away, awkwardly cleared his throat and gestured toward the waiting car. Delilah wiped at her tears, slipping on her sunglasses to hide the evidence of her heartbreak. Tank nudged her shoulder gently as they walked to the car. “You did the right thing, kid,” he said, his voice kind but firm. “He gets that.”

Delilah nodded, but the words offered little comfort. As the car pulled away, she stared out the window, replaying every moment with Josh in her mind—the laughter, the fights, the stolen moments that had made the past several months unforgettable. She knew she’d made the right choice, but the ache in her chest told her it was going to be a long time before she stopped missing him.

She was pulling up to her sister Simone’s front door when her phone rang. The area code wasn’t from here, and she didn't recognize the number. Still, something pushed at her to answer the call. "Hello?"

"May I speak to Delilah Parrish, please?" the sweet voice on the other end asked.

Delilah leaned her hip against her suitcase. "Yes, this is Delilah," she responded, her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Hi Delilah, my name is Emilia, and I'm with Dr. Gonzalez's office in Orlando," she said, "You came in for a physical last week?" she questioned.

Nodding and exhaling a sigh of relief, Delilah cleared her throat. "Yes, I did," she assured the nurse. As part of the recruitment process, WWE had requested she take a physical with their recommended medical facility. Delilah had done it with zero issues. She was determined that nothing was going to hinder her commencing training at the PC, and though she knew she was in good health, she would jump through any other hoop they asked to prove it.

"Well," Emilia spoke with a cheerful smile that for some reason was grating Delilah's nerves in her current state of mind. "Everything looks great. You're healthy as a horse, and we just sent the results to you via email," she said. "However, there’s just one thing that we want to make sure you are aware of, considering the degree of physicality you regularly engage in." Emilia cleared her throat. "You’re pregnant, Miss Parrish. Congratulations."

—————–

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