"Boston who am I?" I asked.

He just looked at me. He had been living with me for over a month and he still hadn't called me Dada or Daddy. In fact he didn't really call me anything he just pointed to what he wanted or cried to get my attention.

"Come on say Dada" I pleaded with him.

Boston just laughed at me.

"You know what you are evil" I said.

Luckily for me it was time for Boston to go to his "group". My brothers reamed me so badly when they found out Boston was in a dance class but he really seemed to like it he had friends and everything. I even noticed a few older girls giving him the eye, that made me so proud.

"Ok go give Grandma a kiss and then we will leave" I told him.

He ran into the kitchen where my mother was.

"Ok baby have fun today" I heard my mother say.

"Be careful driving" she advised me.

"Ma it's sunny and clear out and I'm a good driver" I said.

"Just do as I say"

"I'll be back in a while" I said.

She kissed us both and we left. When we finally got there I was still a little irritated about the whole dada thing.

"Hey Boston" Abby said sweetly. She had taken an instant liking to my son which was a good thing and he seemed to like her just as much.

"John" she said.

I mumbled irritably in return.

"What's got your panties in a twist?" she asked.

Oh yes Abby had taken in upon herself to make my life a living hell whenever we saw each other.

"Not that it is any of your business but Boston doesn't call me daddy or dada… nothing"

"So what does he call you asshole perhaps?" she asked.

"Here I go telling you a serious problem and you have to turn it into a big god damn joke… gah no wonder you are still single"

"Watch it Cena I may be a girl but I could kick your ass any day" She said.

"Name a time and a place and the CHAMP will be there" I taunted her.

She just rolled her eyes and pushed me out of the room.

"Get lost! pick Boston up later or you know what don't come at all just send your mom" she said "it is apparent that she didn't teach you to be nice to others"

"Oh she did I just choose not to be nice to you" I replied.

She shut the door in my face and locked it so I couldn't get back in.

"Oh nice what if there were kids trying to get in there and they couldn't because the door was locked" I yelled.

"All my students are already in here" she yelled back.

"Well what if there was an emergency and the parents needed to pick up their kids but couldn't because the door was locked"

"Will you just leave already!" She exclaimed.

"Fine I'm going" I said.

I walked out of the building with a smile. Abby and I hated each other with a passion and we let each other know it frequently but she was a good influence on Boston which is the only reason she was still around.

It was a nice day so I decided to just drive around for a while. I hadn't just drove around aimlessly since the day Ashley told me she was pregnant. I hated the fact that she was gone, I never got to say goodbye or that I loved her or even that I was sorry for being such a prick to her. If I could go back in time I would change the very moment where she told me I was going to be a father. I would have stayed and been a man.

I blamed myself for Ashley's death… if I had been there or even if I had given her child support she wouldn't had to work in a bar and she might still be alive right now. Those thoughts stayed with me my every waking hours and even sometimes I dream about it. It's always the same dream I watch her die and there is nothing I can do to stop it. I wake up screaming at night, I don't wish my life upon my worst enemy. Boston and my job are the only good things I have going for me. Sometimes I would look at Boston and see Ashley through his eyes… I owe her so much and I have no idea where to start. My cell phone began to ring.

"Hello" I said not bothering to look at the caller ID.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Abby asked.

"Time to change my cell phone number" I mumbled. But then I looked at the time.

"Oh shit" I cursed "I'll be there in 20 minutes"

"You'd better be" She said.

I drove a little about the speed limit to get to Abby's building. I was an hour and a half late picking Boston up. I pulled up in front of the building, Abby and Boston were waiting outside for me.

"I am so sorry I lost track of time" I apologized.

"Don't tell it to me tell it to your son" she replied.

"Daddy is sorry buddy" I picked him up and hugged him close.

"Dada" Boston finally said.

The minute I heard that beautiful word I began smiling from ear to ear. I looked at Boston but I was at a loss for words.

"Did you hear that?" I finally managed to ask Abby.

"Yeah I did" she said "maybe there's hope for you daddy"

I watched her walk away.

"You know Boo I hate seeing her leave but I love watching her go"

I put Boston in his car seat and drove home. The first thing I did when we walked in the door was call everyone I knew and had Boston say dada over and over again. He seemed to like all the attention he was getting. But after a while he seemed to get cranky.

"Ok daddy has made you suffer enough time for bed"

I carried him upstairs to his crib. I changed his diaper and put clean pajamas on him.

"Ok bedtime" I said.

We were sitting in his rocking chair.

"What do you say we skip the song and I tell you a story instead" I suggested.

"Nooo" he whined.

"Well you have a full vocabulary tonight don't you" I said.

He climbed off my lap and walked over to his dresser. He kept pointing to the top of it. I had no idea what he wanted to I went over and picked him up. He grabbed the picture of me and Ashley that I had on the dresser.

"You miss mama don't you?" I asked.

He nodded and rubbed his face against my shirt.

"Mama's here with us little man just cuz you can't see doesn't mean she ain't there and she loves you very much"

I put the picture back and rocked Boston to sleep.

There were times usually really late at night or early in the morning when I would sit and think about my life and what I want out of it. Some would say I have everything but that isn't true because no matter what I do or if I become the WWE Champion a million times Ashley would never again be there to share the joy with me and that hurt worse than any punch or kick or botched wrestling move that I might receive. Being alone is What Hurts The Most.