Chapter 88

My heart is filled with pure emptiness. I feel absolutely nothing. No anger. No hurt. No disappointment. No need to cry. Nothing. It's like I stopped feeling. In only a blink of an eye, I stopped feeling. Stopped being human.

I stare at the white ceiling, unable to find any sleep. That's how it has been since I got the news. Since my mother told me what happened. Since I stopped being human.

Sleep is overrated. Feelings are overrated. Talking is overrated.

He says he's there for me. I am able to talk to him. Talk about my feelings. Feelings which don't exist for me. Feelings I am not able to feel.

My eyes move over to his sleeping figure. His arm is embracing my body. Embraces us. Even our child has stopped making me vomit. It's like it is in grief as well.

Grief over the death of the only father figure I ever knew. Ray.

I carefully pick his arm up, so I could get up. He grumbles, but continues sleeping. Dressed in a silk light blue nightgown, I walk barefoot out of the room. The soft warm beige carpet gets replaced by warm marble stone floor as I walk into the corridor. It's the first time I notice my gold painted toes. I painted them two days ago. They look like nothing has happened.

I let my hands glide to the golden doorknob. It's cold. It hasn't been touched since two days. I open the door and get greeted by a soft light. The moon is shining directly at me, through the french windows. It's also shining at the piano. A piano I haven't touched for two days. Without switching on the lights, I close the door. The room which used to fill me with inspiration, leaves me now as before. No muse is kissing me. I feel - once more - nothing. I brush through my dark brown locks, thinking I should cut them shorter. They reach my navel by now. Maybe I should get a short cut. Change something.

No things will change soon enough. Things already changed. Some things should remain.

I let my fingers glide over the keyboard of the piano, creating a soft melody. What used to fill me with joy, now leaves me nothing. I still feel nothing. I look around and see nothing to get seated on except for the chair in front of the piano. I should have a couch in here. Or an armchair. Or both.

I walk over to the windows and look straight into the bright shining full moon. A moon, I would have described as beautiful two days ago. But now... Now it's just a moon. A moon shining over a city. A typical city. Manhattan has lost it's glory as well. The former breathtaking view makes me feel nothing. I feel numb.

Numbness, yes that's what I feel. I am lifeless. A lifeless human, who is caring a human being. A child. A baby. But even the baby is feeling numb.

I shiver as I feel a cold breeze touching my bare skin. Goosebumps are coating my skin, making me feel nothing. I'm not cold. My body is just reacting. Reacting to the environment. That hasn't stopped yet. I am still able to react.

Just not to feel.

I turn around, seeing him standing in the doorframe. So that has caused my body to shiver. He's wearing his usual light grey sweatpants with the words unbreakable stiched in big letters on the right leg. Unbreakable. Am I already broken? I don't know. I feel nothing.

Usually his image would take my breath away. Make my blood flow faster through my veins. Awake my synapses.

But I feel nothing. I'm numb.

He walks into the room, still staying nothing. Is he copying my numbness? I don't think so.

Even in my numbness I recognize his glamorous movements. My eyes see it. React to it. But my body... I feel nothing. No passion. No lust. No sexual desire. No love. Nothing.

I am numb.

He stops across me. The light from the moon shines down on him. It created a nice image. A sexy image I'd say if I would feel that. But I don't.

I turn around again, I'd rather face the shining moon over Manhattan than his face. His face which is filled with sorrow, pity and worry. A combination I am not able to feel, let alone want to see it.

For minutes I stand and stare out of the window. I think of absolutely... Nothing. Nothing and no one. I can't think about him. About Ray. I can't think about Richard. Or my mother. Or Patricia.

And I can't think about his funeral. A funeral I did not attend. I just sat on the couch in the living room. For hours I sat there not able to move after my mother told me the news. I haven't spoken a word since. I can't. Can't talk about it. Or anything else.

His arms surround my body, embracing my pregnant body. Gosh, I didn't even had a chance to tell him. Tell him about the pregnancy. I should have told him. Told him as soon as I knew. He would have been happy from the start, unlike Richard who freaked out. Happiness. When will I be able to feel that again? Our wedding day maybe. The day our child is going to be born. It seems like a fucking long way until then.

When will I freak out? When will I be able to feel again? I don't know.

All I know is that his touch is making me feel nothing. It used to make me feel more than possible... But now, I feel nothing. His body just warms up mine. A simple physical reaction. But it doesn't make me feel anything. No emotional reaction is possible. Not from me.

He rests his head on my right shoulder, staring with me out of the window. The moon is slowly disappearing. The sky is slowly getting brighter. An event which I used to describe as beautiful. I guess it still is, but I feel nothing.

I can hear him breathing behind me. A regular breath. He chooses to be silent as well. Adjust to me, I guess. I wish I could tell him that he shouldn't adjust to me. That I will normalize again. But I don't know if that's going to happen. If I ever will be the same person I was before the news. His death. I can't even let myself think about it. My body shuts down whenever a thought about him reaches my mind.

Within minutes the sun coats Manhattan in pink, purple, orange and yellow lights. Although the city has not been sleeping, the usual working time begins in a few minutes. I haven't been at work. Work. I got the promotion from my boss. From being an intern I am now a songwriter. He offered me a recording contract - I said no. Singing is not what makes me happy. Writing music is. Or was two days ago.

I release myself from his warming embrace and walk out of the room, saying no word. He watches me leave him - even at this state I can feel his eyes on me. The only thing I am able to feel. His eyes always had the strongest effect on me. Guess it's the only effect I can't shut off. The only emotion I can feel. Next to the numbness.

I walk straight into the library, which is the last door on the left in the corridor. I open the door and get greeted by huge shelves, filled with more books than I could ever read. My eyes stop at the couch. A black leather couch. A couch which should be in the music room.

I start pushing the couch over to the wide open wing door. Even know, my body knows that I shouldn't try to pick it up. I push it through the door and through half of the corridor before I have to stop since he stands in my way.

My eyes meet his. I can still see the sorrow, worry and pity in them. But now he is angry as well. His eyes glitzer in black back into my brown ones.

"You shouldn't be doing this." he says in a soft voice. His eyes tell me something else. He's furious with me. Again, I wonder how well he is able to have control over himself.

I say nothing. I can't. So I stare back into his black eyes. His furious eyes.

"Where shall I place it?" he asks me, sighing.

I shake my head. I want to do it myself. I have to do it myself.

"I won't let you do that. I will stay here as long as it takes for you to tell me where you want it to be placed, Maine." he says in a stiff voice. Is he losing control over himself?

Maine. He hasn't called me that in a very long time. So he is slowly losing control.

Should I provoke him? I don't have the power to do so. Out of the sudden I feel exhausted.

I point over to the music room, giving in after minutes of just staring at him.

He pushes the leather couch into the music room, placing it across the window front. Although I didn't tell him, he knew right away where I wanted it to be. Not because of the view. But because of the silence which fills the room. The silence from the sun. The sun, which doesn't ask me questions. Doesn't ask me how I feel. Doesn't ask me if I am okay. Doesn't ask me if I want anything. No, it leaves me alone.

Loneliness. That's exactly what I want right now. Maybe even what I need. Need to deal with the situation. Adjust to it.

He looks at me, as if he accepts some kind of thank you from me. I say nothing. I wanted to do it myself. He doesn't deserve a thank you. Not from me.

"I took this week off." he starts communicating with me.

I don't answer. I knew that this should surprise me. Richard Faulkerson, the workaholic, takes a week off. But the thing is, it doesn't. It doesn't make me feel anything.

"I'll go make breakfast. You want anything?"

I shurgg. I am not even hungry.

"You will eat anyways. You may don't have to talk to me, but you need to eat. Do it for the child if not for yourself, Maine."

Maine. There it is again. I look away and get seated on the couch.

"I'm in the kitchen if you need anything." he says before he leaves me alone.

If I need anything. Is he kidding me? He knows who I need. I need Ray. The only person I wish I'd see again. But I can't.

Richard's point of view

"I need you to come by, Patricia." I say into my phone as soon as I closed the white wooden door of the music room. "She... She has shut her feelings completely off."

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes, I promise." I hear her saying on the other line. "Is she.. Did she talk to you since she got the news?"

"No. She said no word. Since two days, Patricia. And I... I don't know what to do. I've tried every possible method to help her. Every single method I learned in med school. Nothing works. She's... She's not herself. She's..."

"a walking zombie?" She asks as I hear the elevator doors closing with a ching. That woman is definitely fast at getting dressed. She's one in a million.

"I guess."

"Has she... You know, showed any emotions?" she asks me.

"No. I'm pretty sure she feels nothing at the moment. She has shut her feelings off. A typical reaction to a sudden death of a close person. But she brought it on a whole new level. I don't know what to do, Patricia."

"I'll be there within a blink of an eye." she ensures me. "Stay away from her. When I remember correctly, she can't bare any love right now. It like you were stitching a knife into her chest." she explains.

"As you remember?" I ask her confused as I walk into the kitchen.

"Last time she was in this state was... You know, after that thing with Thomas."

I feel my body getting stiff within a second. Thomas. God, how could that bastard do that to her?! She was a child! A sixteen year old child. If only I would see him again... Then I would kill him within a heartbeat. How could-

"What are you doing?" Patricia asks me, ripping me out of my thoughts.

"Breakfast."

"Do you think she'll eat?"

"She has to. Or I'm going to get her connected to an infusion faster than she could protest."

"Did she eat yesterday?"

"Not a lot, but still. She's not doing it because she's hungry. She's doing it because she has to. Because of our child. It's the only thing she's holding on to."

"Good. I mean, not good but... You know." she says before she gives my address to a taxi driver. "I'll be there in ten minutes." she says to me before she hangs up.

I sigh before I start making a healthy breakfast for my grieving fiance and my child. A child who will hopefully survive the emotional stress. I will make sure it won't be harmed. It's the only thing left I could do.

Suddenly a music fills the penthouse. It's her. She's playing at the piano. The first sign from her. It's a melody which is filled with an incredible amount of sorrow and pain. A melody which fills my eyes with tears. A melody which touches my fucked up soul. The fucked up soul she healed. I wish I could heal her's. Make her feel better. If only I could do something to make her feel better. To take away the pain. To not make her go through that.

She's playing the same notes over and over again. Each time she stops at a moment, in which the melody should go on - my educated ears can hear that even from this distance. It's like she forgot the notes. And she never forgets the notes.

"Thank you for coming." I say to her, handing Patricia the tablet which is filled with the breakfast I made for her. Cottage cheese, slices of pineapple, berries and orange juice.

"How long has she been doing this?" she asks me worriedly. Why is she worried?

"About ten minutes. She started after we hung up."

Patricia nodds, as if this information is helping her somehow. "So she's in the music room."

"Yes." I say as we walk down the corridor. "It breaks my heart to not be able to help her."

She smiles softly at me, "You're not able to help her yet. No one is able to help her right now. Not even me, Richard." she says and I wonder why she came then. If she's not able to help my fiance then why did she show up?

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"If you're lucky, you'll be hearing this melody for the next hour. If not - you'll be hearing this melody for a lot longer. 24 hours or even maybe 48 hours - nonstop."

I stare confused back at her, "How is that-"

"She doesn't sleep. She hasn't slept since the two days, I'm guessing. The lack of sleep made her remember this melody. It was the first melody which Ray showed her when she was little. But what you're hearing right now, is not the full song. There's a part missing."

"Do you know which part?"

"Yes."

"Will you show her?"

She smiles again, before she shruggs. "I'm sorry, but I can't. She has to remember herself. It's... It's like a therapy for her. Her way of dealing with Ray's death. She needs to remember to digest his death. To make her feel again. But as soon as she has played the whole song for the first time she... She will break down in tears. Big time. Then she's going to need you - not me anymore. She needs the love of her life, to hold her. Give her comfort." Patricia says, her eyes filled with sorrow. "I don't know when it will happen. I hope soon. The earlier the better. For all three of you."

I nodd, agreeing to her. It doesn't make sense. Psychologically, it doesn't make sense. This is not the usual therapy. It's not the usual way I would treat this patient. But for her, there's nothing I wouldn't do.

"I'll go in and try to make her eat that. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try my best." the Grey woman says to me, showing me her best smile yet. A wonderful woman Samuel has chosen to marry. A friend, who would do anything for her female soulmate. A true Grey.

The melody has made it's way into my bloodstream. For fourteen hours, I've been hearing the same melody over and over again. It stopped for a couple of minutes. Minutes in which she ate, because Patricia and I made her. Minutes in which she went to the bathroom. Minutes in which she drank water to keep herself hydrated. But then... Then she started again. And she has been playing for fourteen bloody hours. I wish I knew the full song. I wish I could help her. The only thing I can do is wait... Wait for her to remember.

But I can't be awake anymore. My eyelids slowly close, as I try very hard to not fall asleep. I have to be there for her when she finishes the song. When she breaks down. When she's going to need me the most.

My eyes shut open as silence fills the penthouse. It's completely silent. I hear nothing. No melody. No piano. Nothing.

I jump out of the bed and run into the music room. There she is. Sitting in front of the black piano. Crying her precious heart out. Crying everything out she has not allowed herself to feel for the past two days. I walk slowly over to her.

She looks up, right into my eyes. Her eyes are filled with new tears as the older tears are rolling down her cheeks. She's sobbing, revealing the hurt she's feeling. Her eyes are filled with grief. Sorrow. A lot of pain.

Pain, I wish I could take away. I wish I could make her feel better in a way.

"Richard..." she whispers helplessly, almost unbearable to me and I know that I can. I can make her feel better. I sit down next to her on the music stool. I can't believe she has been sitting on that chair since fourteen hours.

She rests her head on my shoulder, letting the tears fall down. They wet my shirt within seconds. She cries everything out. Everything she is feeling right now. I brush through her dark brown locks, as tears show me her feelings. I don't know if I should hug her. I don't want to do anything wrong. Usually I would, but Maine... Maine's different. That's why I love her.

She lifts up her head and I look at her. Her chocolate brown orbs are staring back at me. They're filled with so much hurt. It tores my heart into a thousand pieces. Gosh, I wish she didn't have to feel like this. I wish she could just -

The tears start storming down her face again before she buries her face in my neck, hugging my softly. I pull her on my lap, creating the most intimate position possible. I embrace her softly, rubbing her back. I don't say anything. I can't say anything to make her feel better. It's something she - and our child for that matter - have to go through themselves. A journey I can't go for them, although I wish I could.

For hours we sit in this position. Hours in which I lose the feeling in my legs. Hours in which my shirt gets soaking wet. Hours in which she does nothing but cry. I didn't think a person was able to create so many tears. I thought after a certain amount of time the crying would stop. But it didn't. She didn't stop crying. And I am here for her. The only thing I can do for her at this moment.

And then she stops. Out of the sudden, she stops crying. Her body is not able to produce any more tears. She lifts her head from my shoulder and looks into my bright blue eyes. I wipe away the tears from her eyes.

She opens her mouth but nothing comes out of it. She's unable to describe her feelings. She feels too many emotions at the same time. I really hope it doesn't break her. All these feelings which are storming down at her. All these feelings...

"I love you." she says in a broken voice to me. Words which fill my heart with more joy than possible.

"I love you, too Maine. More than I could ever tell you." I say smiling to her.

She doesn't return my smile. For the first time, she doesn't reflect on it. "Thank you." she says to me.

Maine's point of you:

The grief is overwhelming me. It's too much for me. Too much for my weak body. How could he leave me?! How could he do that to me! He was my Dad! The only Dad I ever knew! And he was going to become a grandfather! His only wish! And I was... How could he do that to me?! Leave me alone! All by myself...

I get off of his lap and storm into the kitchen. I pull the drawers open and start throwing dishes and glasses on the floor.

"How could he do that to me!" I yell, "He should have been here! See that I am carrying his grandchild! His wish for me! And you! He should be able to see our wedding! He has to walk me down the aisle!" I continue yelling and throwing the pricey porcelain on the floor. It crashes into a thousand little pieces. But I don't care. "How could he put me in so much pain?! Doesn't I mean something to him?! HOW could he do that, huh?" I ask before I feel my legs losing their strength. I sink towards the floor, but don't land on it. Richard catches me, his eyes filled with hurt. That hurts me even more. I am breaking him apart.

Because he broke me.

Without a word, he walks with me in his arms into the bedroom. I can't walk anymore. I just.. Can't. Out of the sudden, I feel extremely tired. All this tension has disappeared in my body. Instead my body is giving up. I need sleep. Lots of sleep.

He places me softly on the bed. For the first time I noticed that it is in the middle of the night. A quick look at the watch reveals the time : two in the night. For how long have I been playing? I don't know. I don't care.

He lays down beside me, embracing my body with his arms. Gosh, it's like these arms can take away my pain. For as long as I will be in his arms, I am safe. I close my eyes, letting one tear fall down my cheek. I couldn't survive a life without him.

"Promise me, you'll never leave me." I say, breaking the silence.

"I will never leave you, Maine." he promises me before he kisses my cheek. "I'm always going to be there for you, Maine."

Maine. The name which touches my soul right away. I turn around and look into his  eyes. Eyes which are filled with sorrow. "You are the love of my life. I couldn't live without you. You're my rock. My soulmate. My male soulmate, since Patricia takes the female part. But I... I hope you know how strong my love for you is. How much it grows every passing second. How much I love you." I say and smile, before I feel my stomach turning around. With my hand covering my closed mouth I ran into the bathroom to vomit into the marble toilet. For minutes I vomit, I vomit until my stomach is completely empty.

"Are you done?" he asks me as I cough. Nothing comes out any more.

"Yes." I say, rising my head away from the marble toilet. "Although I still feel sick." I say, rising from the floor.

"Should I call Addison?"

"I'll be fine in a few minutes." I say before I cool my face with icy cold water. It already makes me feel better - or at least not sick anymore. I can see him standing behind me in the reflection. He looks worried.

"Your child is fine, Richard." I explain, knowing that behind me is not only standing the hottest - former - bachelor of the whole US, no, behind me is standing a father as well. The father of my child. "It's a good sign that I just vomited. It's the first sign since two days."

He nodds, before he embraced me from behind. I close my eyes and lean my weak body against his strong one. What would I do without him?

I'd be lost.

"Do you want to go back to bed?" he asks me in a whisper tone.

"No, let's stay in this position for a couple more minutes please..." I whisper back.

"Okay." he agrees with me, brushing through my dark brown locks. "I love you."

"I love you, too. I haven't been able to show you this the last two days but... I love you more than possible. We love you more than possible." I say, opening my eyes.

His eyes look into mine via the reflection. "For better and for worse. For healthiness and sickness. I am yours. Not officially yet. But that doesn't mean I'd leave you when it gets tough, Maine. That's when I'll stay by your side. That's when you can count on me."