Disclaimer: I do not own Jay "Christian" Reso or anything that pertains to World Wrestling Entertainment. I am not profiting from writing this piece.

Jay and fatherhood…The two words I had dreaded hearing for the last seventeen years had finally assaulted me with their sudden presence. Although, after the initial shock of Heather's news set in, my body went numb; that helped make my metaphorical death relatively quick and painless. It was life after death that was going to be the most difficult.

My fingers were trembling as I tried to tie my bathing suit top around my neck.

How was I supposed to do this? How was I supposed to go to the beach and pretend that my life hadn't collapsed? Once Jay came to, he seemed ecstatic about the prospect of being a father. So, if I was any friend at all, I should be happy for him, right?

There was a light knock on the bathroom door.

My voice hitched as I forced down the sob lodged in my throat.

"I-I'll be out in a minute, Jay."

"It's not Jay," came the response. "It's Chris. If you're descent, may I come in?"

I swallowed hard and grabbed a hand towel from the rail by the toilet. I put it over my chest in case my top slipped down whenever I let go of the two neck strings.

"Ummm…Yeah, sure..."

Chris cautiously poked his head inside.

"Hey…"

"Ummm…Hey…"

He looked me over for a minute and then stepped inside. He closed the door behind him.

"Are you all right?"

I forced a smile. "Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

Chris eyed me; his piercing blue eyes were filled with compassion.

"You've been in here for twenty minutes," he replied, "and all you've managed to put on is a pair of bathing suit bottoms. I know I'm no authority on the subject, but aren't bathing suits fairly easy to put on?"

"Oh contraire, Mr. Jericho," I laughed. "If a girl has gained weight, some bathing suits are very difficult to put on."

Chris flashed his pearly-whites.

"Well, you don't look a day over a buck-fifty, so weight-gain can't be the problem."

"Eh," I shrugged as I took a seat on the toilet. "Okay, so you're bathroom is way bigger than mine and I thought I'd stay in here awhile longer to marvel at its grandness."

Chris smirked a little, took a few steps forward, and then squatted in front of me. He was staring at me, more than likely searching my eyes for a more logical explanation.

"You don't have to put on a brave face for me, Ashley."

"What do you mean?" I asked, nervously.

He sighed, smiling comfortingly at me.

"You've just found out that the man you're in love with is—God help us all—having a baby with another woman. I think that entitles you to an emotional breakdown."

I stared at him in astonishment.

"Am I that transparent?"

"No…I'm just that observant. I've seen the way you look at him."

I sighed. It was kind of nice to have someone to share my anguish with.

"Are you sure you're up for the beach?" he asked after a moment. "Rosalind and I would completely understand if you didn't want to come. We can drop you off at your place on our way."

"No," I shook my head. "I want to come. I have to come. If I don't, he'll know something's wrong."

Chris stared at me, sympathy gracing his eloquent features. He then stood up, grabbed the two strings that belong to my top, and slowly started tying them around my neck. His hot breath rained down on me as he spoke.

"Jay has made objectifying women a form of art. He views them as sexual party favors for the most part. But you—you're in a category on your own. For as long as I've known you, you've always been in a different category from the rest of the women he has encountered. Never once has he mentioned the size of your 'melons' or whether you have a 'rockin' ass.'"

I looked up at him, puzzled. "O—kay?"

Chris made sure my top was securely in place and then took the hand towel from me. He folded it and placed it back on the rack with its companion.

He turned back to me with a smile.

"That means he has respect for you. More than that, I would venture to say."

That sob started to escalate within my throat.

"What," I cleared my throat, "what am I supposed to do with that information?"

"Nothing," he replied, squatting in front of me once more. "I'm telling you this, so that you can let him go. Now, at least you can take comfort in the fact that, if the timing was right, he would be with you."

"I can't do that, Chris…and that's not very comforting."

Suddenly, I was reminded of the end-scene from Titanic. Where Jack had died of hypothermia and his hand had frozen to Rose's. She was forced to let him sink into the depths below in order to save her own life. Had that been me, had that been Jay, I would have chosen to perish with him. Life without Jay isn't a life I want to live. Sure, I suppose I could move on, but it would never be the same…it would never feel the same.

"I know it's going to be difficult. Been there, felt that heartache," Chris said, "but you can't keep doing this to yourself, AJ. If he hasn't admitted his feelings for you during the seventeen years that you've known him, then you and I both know he's not going to…He has a wife and now a family, so that chapter of your life has been forcefully closed. Now you need to open a new one; and I'll help you any way I can."

Two tears slid quietly down my cheeks. I wiped them off with the back of my hand.

"You won't pull a Jay and set me on horrendous blind dates, will you?" I asked, laughing weakly.

"Only as a last resort," he answered with a smile.