For four years, I’ve been punching and kicking my way through hundreds of unworthy MMA opponents.
For four years, I’ve kept seeing her face. Maddie’s face. My one great love.
After a brutal cage match that sent me to the ER, Maddie took off across the country. Six months pregnant. She left to have my baby as far from me as she could. No more violence, she said. No fighting.
I had to live with it. I had no choice.
But last night I got a phone call from my little girl, asking me to come to her fourth birthday party. Her friends all have daddies, she said. Would I be hers?
Damn right I will.
I decide that when I get to New York, I’m not going to care about Maddie. I’m not going to even look at her.
But I do. And the moment I see her again, I know one thing is true.