SHATTERED

I After ReVival 52

In the Cow Palace's trainer's room, Rose sat on an examination table, her face contorted with pain and frustration. Her left heel throbbed as KING watched anxiously nearby.

Dr. Fihlguud, PRIME's head physician, prodded at Rose's heel with practiced fingers. Rose hissed through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowing.

"You know, Doc, if you wanted to give me a foot massage, you could've at least bought me dinner first," Rose quipped, her voice tight with pain.

The doctor ignored her, turning to David. "It's a grade two strain. She'll need to wear a boot for roughly a month."

Rose's mind raced, a whirlwind of frustration and disbelief. I can't believe I tapped. Me, tapping to Youngblood. What's next? Lindsay Troy admitting she's not the Queen of the Ring? Ha! The thought was almost laughable if it weren't so infuriating.

Jamaal stepped closer, his brow furrowed. "Rose, maybe you should-"

Yet, she was lost in her thoughts, continuing frantically. And that submission move? Please. I've been in tighter spots getting out of my skinny jeans. The absurdity of the comparison almost made her want to laugh, but the bitterness wouldn't let her.

Dr. Fihlguhd's voice cut through her monologue. "There are no matches for ReVival 53 or 54, at a minimum."

David nodded grimly, but Rose remained oblivious.

A new, sarcastic idea bloomed in her mind. You know what? Next time, I'll just wrap my entire body in bubble wrap. I suggest adding some steel-toed boots for good measure. Oh! And a helmet. I can't forget the helmet. I'll look like a deranged astronaut, but hey, at least I won't tap out to Mr. 'I've-been-wrestling-since-the-Stone-Age' Youngblood.

Cory chuckled despite the tension. "Rose, I think you should-"

The words hit her ears, but her inner voice dripped with sarcasm as she imagined the scene. And don't even get me started on that referee! I swear, he must've been using a sundial to count the pin attempts. 'One Mississippi, Two Mississippi, Three Mis- oh wait, she kicked out five minutes ago.'

David’s hand landed on her shoulder. "Rose, listen-"

She felt his hand there, but the frustration built a crescendo in her mind. I mean, really, what's next? Will they make me wrestle with one hand tied behind my back? Oh wait, that might actually be an improvement. I could use it as an excuse. 'Sorry, can't tap out; my tapping hand is indisposed!'

Suddenly, Rose froze, the doctor's words finally registering. Her head snapped up, eyes wide. "Wait, what? No matches for 53 or 54? Are you kidding me?"

Dr. Fihlguud nodded. "I'm afraid so, Rose. You need time to heal."

Rose's face contorted through a rapid succession of emotions: disbelief, anger, frustration, and finally, a kind of manic amusement. "Well, fuck that bald fuck even more then.”

Late afternoon sunlight streamed into the kitchen as Rose aggressively scrubbed dishes. Upstairs, Adeline and Lorelai's laughter contrasted sharply with the tension in Rose's shoulders.

II

Over a month had passed since Robert and Anjelica's unexpected arrival. As Rose awaited their return from grocery shopping, she grappled with the tension and unease that had defined their stay.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway drew her attention. Rose's grip on the plate tightened, her knuckles whitening. She took a deep breath, preparing herself.

The back door swung open, and Robert's voice filled the kitchen. "Rose? We're back. Got everything on the list and then some."

Rose turned. She forced a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Great. I was worried you might have gotten lost in the produce section. It's been known to swallow the uninitiated whole."

While unloading the groceries, an uncomfortable silence settled over the kitchen. Anjelica busied herself with arranging items in the fridge while Robert seemed to gather the courage to speak.

Finally, he cleared his throat. "Rose, we... we were hoping we could talk. About everything."

Rose's movements stilled. "Talk? Sure. Because our previous conversations have been so fruitful. Shall I prepare some tea and crumpets for this delightful chat?" Rose felt something loosening in her chest — while also sure Stetson King didn’t have to deal with this while training for their upcoming match.

"Rose, please," Anjelica began, her eyes glistening. "We know we've been horrible to you. Ever since Brian..."

How rich, she thought. They conveniently remembered their dead son. The thought burned like fire in the exhausted Rose. Yet, there was no dismay over missing Adeline’s birthdays or talk about how, time after time, they’d prejudged and misjudged her family, her father, and Brian’s own decisions. The repressed frustration materialized into balled-up fists.

“You have no idea how many times over the years I wished you would change -- and how those times have now ended with me just not giving a fuck. Then you show up at my front door, waltzing back into our lives, and act like nothing has happened? Because now you decide to be human and have feelings?” The icy slivers that were Rose’s words dug into the throat of her in-laws.

Robert stepped forward, his expression pained. "We should have been there for you and Adeline. Instead, we let our pain blind us to yours."

Rose's laugh was hollow, tinged with bitterness. "Blind? That's rich. You had perfect vision when it came to criticizing every decision we made. Tell me, did you have a scorecard? 'Ways Rose Fails as a Daughter-in-Law?' I bet you did. Probably laminated it, too."

"We were wrong, Rose," Anjelica pleaded. "So terribly wrong. We can't change the past but want to make things right."

"Make things right?" Rose's voice dripped with sarcasm. "And how exactly do you plan to do that? Is there a Hallmark card for 'Sorry we were emotional terrorists for years'? Because if not, you might want to invest in that market."

Robert's voice was gentle but firm. "We're asking for a chance, Rose. A chance to be the family Brian would have wanted us to be."

At the mention of Brian's name, Rose felt something inside her crack. The facade she'd been maintaining began to crumble, and she sank to the floor, her back against the kitchen cabinets.

"You want a chance?" she whispered, her voice breaking. "After everything you've done? You belittled my father at every turn, questioned every choice Brian and I made, and made me feel like I was never good enough. And now you want to waltz back into our lives? What's the matter? Did you run out of people to criticize?" She knew this wasn’t energy she had to expand, so she tried picturing Robert and Anjelica’s faces as Stetson King's, but that only made her want to drown him in a ten-gallon hat filled with water.

Robert and Anjelica joined her on the floor, their presence both comforting and overwhelming.

Tears streamed down Angelica’s face as she spoke, “All I can offer is how wrong we were.”

Rose snorted. "Wrong? That's the understatement of the century. You weren't just wrong; you were spectacularly, catastrophically wrong. Like 'the Titanic was just a small boating accident' wrong."

"We can't change the past," Robert said, his voice thick with emotion. "But we want to make amends. We want to be better. For you, for Adeline, and for Brian's memory."

She thought about her husband, how the past eighteen months had worn her down, how the past few months without her father had left her drained, and how raising Addie by herself taxed everything she had. Her career was only becoming more and more difficult in the ring as the level of talent she faced increased. Angst, frustration, and heartache were simply layers she masked with sarcasm.

She wanted to fight, but she sighed as she looked at them. The righteous anger burned inside her, yet she’d held onto so much anger that she was scared it would consume her entirely. Rose knew she needed help and how much Addie asked about her grandparents. Could she find it within herself to unclench just enough to allow others into her life -- even if it gnawed away at her pride in the back of her mind?

"I don't know if I can forgive you," she whispered. "Not yet. But, I don’t want to be you -- pushing you away at every chance. I want Addie to have her family if nothing else. She deserves whatever piece of Brian she can get from you two."

"We understand," Anjelica said quickly. "We want to help, Rose. In any way we can."

Rose nodded slowly. "If you want to help, you must make time for us. Not the other way around. Adeline can’t deal with any more heartbreak. I can’t change my life to accommodate you. I’ve got a career I’m trying to see through -- no matter what you may think of it."

Robert reached over to squeeze her hand but stopped when Rose instinctively pulled her hand away. He looked like a child who’d been scorned. "Understood. We're proud of you, Rose. Brian would be, too."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Rose's face. "Thanks. It's been... challenging. But I'm not backing down. I can't. Although, if you really want to help, you could always volunteer as my sparring partners. I promise I'll go easy on you... maybe."

Running footsteps echoed from upstairs, followed by Adeline's voice as if on cue. "Mom? Grandma? Grandpa? Where is everyone?"

Rose took a deep breath, composing herself. "Down here, sweetie! We're having an impromptu floor picnic. Care to join?"

As Adeline bounded into the kitchen, her eyes widened at the sight of the adults sitting on the floor. "What are you doing down there?" she asked, curiosity evident.

Rose exchanged a look with her in-laws, then held out her arms to her daughter. "Come here, baby. We were just talking about how much we all love you. And how your grandparents have volunteered to be my new training dummies."

Adeline giggled as she threw herself into her mother's arms. As Rose held her daughter close, she felt something shift inside her.

III

Rose pounded a heavy bag late at night in the empty KING gym. Alone in the ring, she pushed herself to exhaustion, sweat glistening on her skin as she caught her breath after an intense workout.

Rose's mind raced with thoughts of her recent defeat and injury. Exhausted from pushing herself to the limit, she reached for her water bottle as the gym door creaked open.

The sound cut through the silence like a gunshot, causing Rose to whirl around, her body tensing instinctively. Then, her world stopped.

Craig stood in the doorway, his weathered face breaking into a warm, familiar smile at the sight of his daughter. "There's my girl," he said softly, his voice carrying easily in the quiet gym. "Working hard as always, I see."

Rose froze, her water bottle slipping from suddenly numb fingers and clattering to the canvas. She blinked rapidly, certain she must be hallucinating from exhaustion. But no, he was still there, solid and real and present.

"Dad?" Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. "Is it really you?"

Craig's smile widened as he stepped further into the gym. "In the flesh."

His voice broke the spell of immobility that had gripped Rose. With a choked sob, she vaulted over the ropes and ran across the gym floor, her injured heel forgotten in the rush of emotion.

She collided with her father, wrapping her arms around him fiercely. Tears streamed down her face, soaking into the fabric of Craig's shirt as she clung to him. "You're here," she gasped between sobs. "You're really here."

Craig's arms enveloped her, solid and comforting as they had always been. "I'm here, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm sorry I was gone for so long."

For a long moment, they stood there, locked in an embrace that spoke of years of love, loss, and longing. Rose breathed in the familiar scent of her father—a mixture of old spice and something uniquely him—and felt genuinely safe for the first time in what seemed like forever.

But as the initial shock and joy of reunion began to ebb, other emotions started to surface. The hurt, the anger, and the confusion that had been her constant companions during Craig's absence began to make themselves known.

Rose pulled back slightly, her tear-stained face now etched with a frown. "How dare you? Disappearing like you did? Not answering your phone? Scaring me to death, Addie sobbing when she goes to bed," she demanded, her voice gaining strength. "Do you have any idea what it's been like? What I've been through? You were healed, and then I have to wonder if you’re dead in a ditch somewhere?"

Craig's expression softened with regret. "I know, Rose. I know I should have been there. But sometimes... sometimes we need to step back to see things clearly. I needed a chance to reset."

The cryptic answer only served to fuel Rose's growing anger. She stepped back, breaking the embrace entirely. "Clear as mud, Dad. Real helpful," she snapped, her earlier joy rapidly giving way to frustration. "You disappeared on me. You weren't there when I needed you. And then my in-laws showed up out of the blue, and I needed you then more than ever."

She began to pace, her movements sharp and agitated. "Do you know what it's been like? Trying to balance my career, taking care of Adeline, dealing with Brian's parents?" Her voice cracked slightly at the mention of her late husband. "And all the while, wondering where you were if you were okay or even cared?"

Craig's face creased with pain at her words. "You’re right. I… didn’t think everything through. I just saw a new lease on life and didn’t know how to process that. I expected to be dead, Rose. I should have been dead. And now, there were moments before me that I never thought possible. I'm sorry I wasn't there and that I was selfish. But I built you a new family for a reason, and that will include your in-laws. Don't push them away. They're trying, in their way."

Rose snorted, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "Trying? They're experts at trying my patience. You weren't there, Dad. You didn't see how they treated me or questioned every decision Brian and I made."

"They're family, Rose," Craig said gently. "Imperfect, frustrating, but family nonetheless. Sometimes, we need to give people a chance to make amends."

Rose paused in her pacing, her anger deflating slightly in the face of her father's calm wisdom. "Where have you been, Dad?" she asked, her voice small and vulnerable. "What's this 'adventure' you've been on?"

A wistful smile played on Craig's lips. "I've been spending time with your mother."

The name hung in the air between them. Rose's mother, gone too soon.

"Mom?" Rose's voice was barely a whisper, her eyes wide with confusion and a spark of hope. "Dad — She told me everything. Where did you go? Is there a place near here?"

Craig's eyes seemed to look beyond the gym walls, lost in memories. "In my thoughts, in my heart. In the places we loved. I needed to reconnect, to remember. To find myself again so I could be the father you deserve."

Rose's anger had evaporated entirely, replaced by a confusing mix of emotions – love, longing, and a deep, aching sadness. "Dad, I... I want to know more. About Mom, about your adventure. About... everything."

Craig nodded, but his eyes were growing heavy, a weariness settling over him. "We'll talk more, Rose. I promise. But I'm getting tired now."

"Dad?" Rose's voice held a note of concern, tinged with fear. "Are you okay?"

Craig smiled reassuringly, reaching out to cup her cheek gently. "Don't worry, just need some rest. We'll talk again soon. I'm so proud of you, Rose. Remember that."

As Craig approached the gym door, Rose called after him, her voice choked with emotion. "Dad? I... I miss you. Please don't disappear again."

Craig turned back, his eyes shining with unshed tears. He closed the gap and wrapped his arms around her. She melted into his embrace, never wanting it to end. "I miss you too—more than you know. And I'm always with you, even when you can't see me," he whispered before breaking the hug and walking towards the gym exit.

The gym door closed behind him with a soft click, leaving Rose alone once more. She stood in the center of the gym, a storm of emotions playing across her face. With a deep, shuddering breath, she returned to the ring, climbing in with renewed determination.

IV

Rose sat in David’s living room as the sun set over San Diego, each nursing a glass of wine. Rose's recovered foot rested on a cushion while David settled into the armchair across from her. This conversation had been pushed off repeatedly -- and she knew she couldn’t push it off any longer.

"How's the foot feeling?" David asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

Rose took a sip of her wine. "Oh, you know, just peachy. I'm thinking of renaming it 'Traitor.' Has a nice ring to it.

David chuckled, but the humor didn't reach his eyes. "Rose, we need to talk."

"Uh oh, those four dreaded words," Rose quipped. "What's next? 'It's not you, it's me?' I know you need to chat, David. You’ve been hounding me for a one-on-one. I just wasn’t in the mood for a paternal lecture."

"Rose, I'm serious," David said. "I'm worried about you."

Rose's smile faltered for a moment before she recovered. "Worried? About little old me? David, I'm touched. Really. But I'm fine. Just a minor setback with the foot, that's all."

David took a deep breath. "It's not just the foot, Rose. It's... everything. How you've been pushing yourself, the situation with your in-laws, and..."

"And what?" Rose asked, her eyebrows raised. "Come on, David, spit it out. You're acting like I've grown a second head or something."

David hesitated, and Rose filled the silence. "Look, I know I've been a bit... intense lately. But I've got it under control. In fact, I've been thinking about some new moves for my comeback."

"New moves?" David asked, his voice carefully neutral.

Rose's eyes lit up with excitement. "Yeah! I've been watching some of Dad's old tapes. Man, he was something else in the ring. He used to do this one move – a modified suplex that transitions into a submission hold. It's brilliant. I thought I could bust it out against Stetson in our match. That might help be the edge I need."

David's face paled slightly, but Rose didn't notice as she continued.

"I can't believe I never tried to incorporate more of his style before. I mean, it's right there in my DNA, right? I need something from Dad's playbook for someone like Stetson, who is bold and unrelenting. He’s no Brandon Youngblood, but I can’t just rely on my agility and quickness to keep Stetson down. I need to take a pound of flesh out of him if I’m going to keep him down. Have you seen what he’s done against Daytona Diamonds? He’s thirsty for blood, and I can’t let this be a warm-up match for him to prepare for Diamonds. I was thinking of asking Dad about the technical aspects of some of the moves. You know how he loves to break down the mechanics of wrestling."

Rose paused. “I'll give him a call tomorrow. See if he wants to come over and watch some matches together. It'd be nice to get his perspective on my recent performances, too."

David’s hands visibly shook. "Rose," his voice barely above a whisper, "you saw your father? Where?"

Rose's brow furrowed, confused. "The other day, he visited the gym while I was working out. I wish I had taken a moment to talk strategy with him. He might have been able to tell me how he fought Wade Elliott; I might need that against Diamonds. Those two had bloody wars with one another, and I think this might be the same." She takes another sip of wine. “Why?”

David leaned forward, eyes filled with concern and grief. "How did he look? What did he look like?"

"David, you know what my father looks like." Rose's became defensive. "Are you calling me a liar?"

"No, Rose, I'm not," David said, his voice thick with emotion. He paused, taking a deep breath.

“We can go call him David. We can drive over and talk,” she started, but he kneeled before her, locking eyes with his protegee. For a moment, he looked into her eyes and studied her.

“Okay, now you’re weirding me--,” Rose began, but David shook his head, cutting her off.

"You believe it. Fuck. Rose, how can you not remember? We buried your father nearly a year ago."