Ever mature and level-headed, she was right. Of course, she was right. If El told you something, she was giving you her word. If she told you something, it was her truth and there was nothing that would change it. I was drafted to the other side of the country to New York and I had the best four years there. If the distance hadn’t broken us, the fame would have done it. I am mature enough to admit that I let it all go to my head, having millions of people screaming my name and women flashing me in the halls of the arena. From New York to Vancouver and now back in Seattle, it was a fucked-up dream that got old quickly. I still love the sport, but the pageantry was a novelty.

Admittedly when I heard I was being traded back home, Ellis was in the top five first thoughts I had. And she was not thought four or five. Stupid really, because I know we’re in different points in our lives.

Watching her body change as she shared pictures online when she was having Jack was like a spiritual experience, I followed it so closely Edge thought that either she was a celebrity or that I was the dad. Both of which he found hysterical. When I explained she was my one that got away, he just felt sad for me, which was a million times worse. At least he was someone I could trust not to tell the rest of the guys. I didn’t need any sympathy, I was happy for her.

Did I wonder why the dad wasn’t in any of the pictures? Of course I did. Did I think about trying to get in touch with her to ask? Only once. But in my defence I was very drunk and we had just lost to LA, which sucked because do they even have ice in LA? It was just a sudden huge shift; her page went from couples pictures, dates and flowers to baby bumps with no man by her side. I’d always wondered how anyone could mess up so badly.

I know I need to focus on today and her impending visit that has been driving me up the wall all night long. I barely slept because I couldn’t stop thinking about if I had time to mow the lawn in the morning, only to remember it’s January so there is no fresh grass to cut. I’ve only eaten three meals instead of my usual five, and if my nutritionist hears about it he would be force-feeding me pasta before I could blink.