SethRollins's Guestbook

Valerie didn't answer right away.

 

Not because she didn't have one.

But because this time, she wasn't going to let the answer come from the part of her that wanted to fix things.

She let the silence sit—long enough that it meant something. Long enough that he had to feel it.

When she finally spoke, her voice was steady.

Not soft.

Not sharp.

Just... certain.

"...No."

A small word.

But it landed with weight.

"No, Seth," she clarified, her grip tightening slightly on the phone. "Things don't just stay the way they are."

A breath.

Controlled.

Measured.

"You don't get to break something and then ask if we can just... live around the damage like it's normal."

There was no anger in it.

And somehow, that made it harder to argue with.

Another pause—short, deliberate.

"But I'm not going to pretend I didn't hear what you said either," she added, quieter now. "About not thinking I'd stay. About how things were already slipping before this."

Her voice dipped slightly—not weak, just... honest.

"You're right about that part. It wasn't perfect. It hasn't been for a while."

A beat.

Then—

"But don't twist that into justification."

There it was again—that firm edge.

"What you did? That wasn't distance. That wasn't miscommunication. That was a choice."

Silence stretched for just a second before she continued.

"And no," Valerie said, more quietly now, but with something unyielding underneath, "this isn't going to turn into some situation where you cheat, and I get a free pass to do the same."

A breath.

"That's not who I am."

Not defensive.

Not emotional.

Just... fact.

"I'm not going to lower myself just to make this feel 'even,'" she continued. "Because it won't. It'll just make it worse. And I'm not bringing a child into something like that."

That word—child—hung between them.

Real.

Immediate.

Important.

Another pause.

Longer this time.

"So here's what we're going to do," she said, and now there was something different in her tone.

Not just emotion.

Decision.

"We get the test. No arguments. No delays."

A breath.

"And until then?" she added, quieter, but no less firm, "you don't get access to me like nothing happened. No pretending. No half-in, half-out."

Her voice softened slightly—but it didn't lose its strength.

"If you want to be here—for me, for this baby—then you show up. Fully. No lies. No disappearing. No... 'figuring it out' while I'm left guessing."

A beat.

"Because I'm done carrying this by myself."

Silence.

Then, softer—just a fraction.

"And if you can't do that..." she trailed off for a moment, like she was choosing whether or not to finish the thought.

She did.

"...then don't stay out of guilt."

That one hurt.

You could hear it.

"I don't want that. I won't accept that."

Another breath—shakier this time, but she didn't let it break her.

"I stayed because I chose to, Seth," Valerie said quietly. "Not because I didn't have other options. Not because I didn't see what was happening."

A pause.

"And I'm still choosing—right now—to give this a chance."

That was the closest thing to vulnerability she'd allowed.

"But that doesn't mean I'll stay no matter what."

The line went quiet again.

Not empty.

Not uncertain.

Just... clear.

"So," she finished softly, "what you do next? That's on you."

Valerie didn't realize she was shaking until the silence dragged on long enough for it to matter.

 

Not loud. Not dramatic.

Just enough that the phone felt a little less steady against her ear.

For a moment, she said nothing—because if she spoke too fast, it would come out wrong. Too sharp. Too broken. Too much.

So she breathed.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

"...You're wrong."

Her voice wasn't loud.

It wasn't even angry.

And somehow, that made it cut deeper.

"I haven't been with anyone else, Seth," she said, each word placed carefully, like she was forcing them to stay steady. "Not once. Not even close."

A pause—but this one was hers.

"And you don't get to stand there and rewrite me just so your choices feel easier to carry."

There it was.

Not a shout.

Not a crack.

Just truth—firm and unyielding.

Her grip tightened slightly on the phone.

"I know exactly how this looks to you," she continued, quieter now, but no less certain. "I know what the schedule is like. I know the distance, the time apart, the missed calls, the nights you didn't come back when you said you would."

A breath hitched—but she didn't let it break her voice.

"But I stayed," she said. "Through all of it. Even when I knew—" she stopped herself, swallowing hard, then corrected, "—even when I suspected something wasn't right."

Another pause.

This one heavier.

"You didn't just cheat, Seth," Valerie added, and now there was something sharper underneath. Not loud—but undeniable. "You decided I was the kind of person who would do the same thing."

Silence stretched between them again.

"And that baby?" she went on, softer now—but steadier than ever. "Is yours."

No hesitation.

No doubt.

"I don't need a calendar or 'math' to tell me that. I was there. I lived it. Every day, every moment—you don't forget that."

Her voice finally wavered—but she pushed through it.

"You don't get to erase that just because it's inconvenient for you to believe it."

A breath.

Shaky this time.

"And if you need proof?" she added, quieter now, the fight still there but worn thin at the edges, "fine. We'll get proof. We'll get whatever you need."

Another pause.

"But don't stand there and act like I'm the one who broke this," Valerie said, and now the hurt slipped through—clear, unmistakable. "Don't put that on me just so you don't have to look at yourself."

The room felt smaller somehow.

Colder.

"And don't you dare decide what kind of person I am," she finished softly, "because you couldn't be what you promised."

Then silence.

Not empty this time.

Just... waiting.

Valerie stood alone in the quiet of their bedroom, one hand resting protectively over her growing stomach, the other gripping her phone just a little too tightly.

 

The TV in the background was already tuned to WWE Raw, the pre-show chatter filling the silence she hadn't quite managed to escape.

She hadn't meant to call.

Not at first.

But then the thoughts came back.

The late nights. The distance. The way he said all the right things—but never quite felt like he was there anymore.

Her jaw tightened slightly as she hit his contact.

Seth Rollins.

The phone rang.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

She almost hung up.

Then—

"...Yeah?" his voice came through, distracted, like he was in the middle of something.

Valerie closed her eyes for a second, steadying herself before speaking.

"Hey," she said softly at first... then a little firmer. "You got a minute?"

Her free hand rubbed lightly over her stomach, more for comfort than anything else.

"I know you're busy getting ready," she continued, pacing slowly across the room, "but I needed to talk to you before you go out there tonight."

There was a pause.

Not long—but heavy.

"You've been... distant," she said finally, her voice tightening just slightly. "And don't tell me I'm imagining it, Seth. I'm not."

She stopped pacing, staring at nothing now.

"I'm sitting here, pregnant with your child... and I feel like I'm the last thing on your mind."

That one came out quieter.

More honest.

A breath.

Then, sharper—

"And I know," she added, her voice dropping just enough to carry weight, "I'm not the only one you've been spending time with."

Silence followed that.

Not uncertain.

Not questioning.

Certain.

Her grip on the phone tightened.

"I'm not calling to fight," she said after a moment, softer again—but firm. "I just... need to hear you tell me the truth for once."

A beat.

"...Before you go out there and pretend everything's perfect."