Okay so I know I have no business starting a new story but I couldn't help myself, inspiration hit! I've got 3 chapters and most of the concluding chapter written already, so I'm confident I can finish this. It's going to go by kind of quick...it's really just filler, explaining how/why the hhh/smh relationship fell apart. Reviews are MUCH appreciated and encouraged. And I haven't decided on the title. At first this was called "Memory Lane"...it might change again lol. Here we go!

Time is a funny thing, you know. If you'd asked me in early 1999, where I'd be in 2002 I would never have guessed it would be here.

I would have never guessed I would be sitting in jail facing charges of murder. This is the second time during my marriage to Stephanie that I've ended up in a position like this. The first time this happened, it wasn't my fault and it wasn't hers either. It was her jealous, bastard ex-fiancée trying to get back at us by filing a false report claiming that I had abused her.

This time is so much different. Not only is this one my fault, but there is an excellent possibility that I'll go to prison for this. It's not like Stephanie is here to defend me, insisting that I didn't do it.

And even if I was granted an absolutely impossible miracle and she did show up to defend my innocence, I can't say that I'd take her up on the offer. I deserve what I'm facing now because I'm guilty.

The guards here are relatively nice, considering what I've done. They questioned me relentlessly but I know it's their job to do so. I also know that I've done the unthinkable, so even if they were disrespectful I don't have it in me to get angry. I feel far too devastated and disappointed in myself to have room for anger. I lost everything that I loved. She was everything. And I never let her know that. My actions over the last two years and three months probably say the exact opposite.

But, like I was saying. They're nice because they brought me paper and a pen, as I humbly requested. I don't know why I asked for it. If and when this goes to trial I don't exactly plan to defend myself. I don't want some fancy ass, slick lawyer to minimize what I have done and lessen my rightful punishment. I might represent myself.

Maybe I want the world to know my story. Maybe I want them to know I'm not just some consistently heinous, wife-abusing bastard. In the first year of our relationship, Steph and I were golden. Everyone could see how much we loved each other. The funny thing is that Stephanie hasn't changed much, now that I think about it. I'm the one who created the gaping hole in our marriage.

So maybe I want to write this out so that I can understand. Maybe I need to know where every turning point was. I need to be able to jump up and say "That! That right there was it!" I also want to know the specific spots that I could have said or done something different. I need to know the moments that my action or inaction could have kept me from ending up here.

Not here as in this jail cell. But here as in utterly and completely broken. I'm more scared than I have ever been in my entire life. And a man like me doesn't scare easily. But, I'm scared of life without Stephanie. Even if I can figure out where I went wrong – which I'm sure I will because I literally have nothing else to do but sit here and reflect – I know it won't really help me. It won't change anything. But I just need to know. I have to.

If what I'm writing does go public, I want to be thorough. There should be no question as to what happened or to whom. So I'm going to introduce myself.

My name is Hunter Hearst Helmsley. I'm a professional wrestler with the WWF. I'm sure I won't have that career for very much longer.

My wife is the daughter of the guy who started the WWF, Vincent Kennedy McMahon. She's Stephanie Marie McMahon-Helmsley. Though after tonight that definitely no longer applies.

I believe that in order to understand your present, you have to look at your past. This is a new belief. If I'd thought of this even three hours prior, I'm sure I wouldn't be in this position. But, you can't turn the clock back, can you?

In theory, you can. But, you're not allowed to change anything while you're there. You can be a spectator and that's it. That's what I'm going to do now. Observe the past year with Stephanie. I have a hunch that that's where things started falling apart the most. Sure, we had our random problems before, but we always bounced back from it. This time we didn't. It just got worse and worse and worse.

And the next thing I knew I was so angry and I couldn't see anything but red. It took me a minute to realize that my vision was tainted because there literally was red everywhere. I have never seen so much blood in my entire life. That's really saying something, since I'm known for my gratuitous use of a sledgehammer, where it concerns other men's foreheads. I have knocked out people's teeth, broken their ribs and used various sharp objects to inflict pain. I've also taken my fair share of beatings and shed a good deal of blood during my career.

And that was nothing. Absolutely nothing to me. I didn't realize how precious blood was until it was hers that was spilling with no end in sight. Every microsecond she slipped further and further away from me. I wanted, so badly to stop it from flowing. If I could I would have made it all go back inside of her somehow. Hell, I would have given her my blood if it was possible. But I couldn't do anything but watch. I stood helpless and watched her suffer. Then her eyes closed. She wouldn't wake up, wouldn't move. It was just...oh, God!

I need to stop there for a couple of reasons. The first is that I will never get this written out if my tears keep smudging the ink. Though, with my whole body shaking so badly, it wasn't like my writing was legible anyway.

The second reason is because I won't explain the present until I understand how I got to this place. Let's start with the beginning of the end. Back when I injured my quadriceps in a match.