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The night he won the championship, Dean couldn’t sleep. He can barely ever sleep. But tonight, the buzzing in his chest and in his head that kept him awake had nothing to do with fear or anxiety. The grin on his face was so wide it made his cheeks hurt. He sat on his living room couch, a heavy weight on each of his shoulders. For once, it was an actual real-life physical weight. The belt was on his left shoulder, while the love of his life rested her head on his right. Renee looked up at him from underneath a mess of platinum blonde hair. He didn’t think it was possible, but the smile on her face was even bigger than his. She reached up to trace the lettering on his championship plates, her fingers moving across the “DA” symbol.
“Dean Ambrose. This is yours. No shenanigans. No technicalities.” She pulled him in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.”