Author's Note: Sorry for the delay — real-life writing and editing got in the way. I know I sound like a broken record, but thank you everyone for the reviews. It means a lot when people take time out of their day to write their opinions and encouragement!

So this is a quick chapter but a necessary glimpse into their immediate post-breakup lives. Next chapter will be longer. They've turned a corner but the drama is far from over. They will each make more mistakes but, without giving too much of the plot away, neither of them does anything tragic. As I said, no cheating and HEA. There will be angst and drama but trust me, I won't break your hearts (I also hate it when writers go overboard with nasty separations and stuff like that). They have issues but love each other and will stay true to that. In the meantime enjoy and please keep reviewing!

"Ana, you've been moping around this apartment for almost a week," Kate complained. "If you get any paler, you might get your own vampire show. How about we go outside for a walk? Bask in that little thing called sunshine."

"I prefer wallowing in a dark pool of regret but thanks anyway," Ana replied, entranced by the TV screen even though she wasn't paying any attention to it.

"Can I at least pull back the drapes? I keep tripping over that damn end table every time I come out of my room."

"No. Us vampires shrivel up in the light. Fortunately the sun will only be out for another two hours or so."

Kate rolled her eyes at her melodramatic martyr of a roomie.

Now that her finals were over, Ana had all the time in the world, so she used it to sleep until 3 in the afternoon in an effort to shut down her mind — and the thoughts about Christian that haunted her every waking moment. Crying didn't even feel cathartic any more — it felt as natural and routine as breathing.

At first, Ana tried to divert herself with game shows — a favorite pastime of her and Ray's — but whenever a contestant won, the shrill sounds of their laughter bounced off the walls like nails on a chalkboard. She marveled at how people could be so pleasant and chipper when her entire world had come crashing down and she struggled to put one foot in front of the other.

So Ana switched the channel and had it permanently set to CNN, where she could watch the litany of tragedies unfolding around the world and not be bothered by any pesky reminders of happiness.

In the meantime, she subsisted of bananas and dry cereal since she could barely muster the strength to amble over to the refrigerator — let alone the shower.

"OK girlfriend, no walk. But when I come home, I'm washing that hair of yours. The oil is staining the couch and you don't exactly smell like a bed of roses." Ana stifled a giggle.

Kate smirked in satisfaction. There's a light at the end of the tunnel. Hopefully Elliott's having better luck with Christian.

He wasn't.

Elliott stepped into the apartment and was smacked in the face by the musty stench of stale leftovers and self-pity.

He found Christian huddled on the floor leaning against the couch as he vacantly stared out the window. Disheveled with bloodshot eyes and an unshaven face, it appeared as if Christian hadn't seen a shower in days either.

"Whoa, you look like shit bro."

"Thank you," he mumbled, not even bothering to look up.

"When was the last time you ate?"'

"I had some chips and salsa yesterday."

"Interesting diet. The Mexican plan eh? Well I figured you might be hungry so I brought you some Indian food. We can travel the culinary world together."

"I don't like Indian food." And I never should've given you a key to my place.

"Tough shit, I do," Elliot replied, unfazed by his brother's death glare. "Where are your plates?"

"Top left shelf," he replied automatically, head still bowed.

Elliott sat cross-legged directly in front of his dazed, defeated brother. The whiff of Indian curry chicken made his stomach roil, but Christian took a few obligatory bites to placate Elliott.

"Seriously man, I'm worried about you. You can't hermetically seal yourself off from the outside world like this. At some point you have to go to work, or at least take a bath or something. You reek of self-pity."

Christian sighed and finally lifted his head. Elliott's trademark humor evaporated the moment he saw the look of despair etched on Christian's stubbled face.

"Bro, talk to me. You can't go on like this."

"I don't want to go on without Ana," he rasped, his throat on fire. "I love her."

Elliott shivered. He never thought of his brother as suicidal, but it was clear he was in real danger of sinking down the rabbit hole of depression.

"I know you do man, and I believe deep down she loves you too, but right now you two are on different paths and you have to find your way back to each other. But this … whatever this is … isn't getting you anywhere."

"I don't give a shit. I'm a colossal cock-up."

"Correction, you fucked up. You're a man. It happens, with stunning regularity."

Christian stymied a laugh before the dull ache of loss returned with vicious speed. Elliott wasn't privy to the details of their breakup. All he and Kate knew was that Christian had deceived Ana about his past girlfriends and that the lies had caused irreparable damage between them.

"I may regret asking this, but have you tried reaching out to Ana? Not in your creepy stalker way, but as a repentant boyfriend?"

"Of course I tried Elliott," he lashed out. "I've called a billion times but she sends me straight into voicemail. I've stopped by and Kate unceremoniously shooed me out. I thought about showing up at one of her classes but I didn't want to ambush her in the middle of finals."

"Good to hear you're not being stalkery," Elliott mumbled.

"Cut the crap," Christian barked. "I'm not in the mood for your sarcasm. What the fuck do you want me to do?"

"You know what I want? Quit with this fucking self-loathing," Elliott bit out. It was time for some tough love. "You're Christian fucking Grey. You made a million dollars in a few months after dropping out of Harvard and defying everyone's expectations. You somehow managed to drag that smart-as-shit girl all the way across the country for you. Get your shit together, shower and focus. Do you want to get your girl back or not?"

"Of course I do," Christian growled. "But how the fuck can I do that if she won't even speak to me?"

"Start slowly. Don't pressure her but let her know you care. Let her know how truly sorry you are. And explain why you're sorry so she gets that you get it — women love that shit. Prove to her you've learned your lesson and won't fuck up again. Don't give up but give her some space. Remind her what you two had together. And pull yourself together. No one wants to take back a hobo."

Christian knew he had hit rock bottom when he was taking relationship advice from Elliott. He gave his brother an appreciative grunt as he put his plate down and dragged himself up off the floor.

"Make sure you throw out that food. It stinks," Christian muttered as he headed for the bedroom to take a shower, buoyed by a newfound purpose.

"So do you. Don't forget the deodorant dude," Elliott hollered back wearing a sly smile.