This is the penultimate Amber and Jeff chapter. I have to give you an ending.

Silent Memory is now complete. A one shot will follow shortly.

Charlie x


I returned, of course. I let the dirt sheets run me down, spreading hateful lie after hateful lie about my absence, the nicest of which was that I'd been in rehab.

That was the official excuse; I'd needed some rest, and my lifestyle was killing me. I had 'demons' to battle, and rehab was the only place for me.

The only thing that my 'accident' did was push Jeff further away from me. He realised he didn't want Candice, and after everything I'd put him through, he didn't want me either. Jeff returned to Beth around the same time he left the WWE for TNA. I had no choice but to be happy for them; I have no bearings on Jeff's life anymore. I have no control on the man that owned so much of me, and still could own it if he only snapped his fingers.

All I wanted was him to love me, I was consumed by it, driven to the brink by it. I did everything and anything I could think of to make him need me, and then I left him just to test if it was true.

Everybody leaves in the end, and everybody hurts.


To the boys in the back, it's water under the bridge. They know they'll never understand why, and they know that I'll never understand either.

My career is as normal as it could be. Everybody I had issues with has left, gone and done what they wanted to. Candice is happy, and I'm happy for her. I sent her a note when her baby was born, apologising for my actions and wishing her well. She was gracious enough to accept it.

People are too nice. Even Jeff forgave me for what I did.

He just couldn't forget.


As it turned out, I did go to rehab. Eventually, on my own terms, after I fucked up so badly I couldn't even remember my own name. Estelle has the dogs, after I became incapable of looking after them. Vince began to worry about me, threatened me with the termination of my contract. I laughed in his face.

I stared into the abyss, long and hard, and it stared back, cold.

Jeff always had his drugs, and I always had my drink. That was how we worked, a team. Unable to feel, unable to function without each other. I was his drug, he was my drink. When enough pieces break off of a person, they fit with just about anybody. With Jeff and I, we got tangled up, attached to each other like thorns made of dependency.

When we were eventually parted, it wasn't through prising the thorns open and escaping. We were torn apart and consumed by our own fire that we had no choice but to escape, lest we both die.

That had seemed like the better option at the time. And then he moved on.

Still dependent upon drugs, removed from reality completely, but still on. A new man, they proclaimed. A family man.

A free man.

And still, always, a liar.