When you get to a place where you understand that love and belonging,

your worthiness, is a birthright and not something you have to earn,

anything is possible.

Brene Brown

Chapter twenty

Christian POV

7:30 p.m

Back at the courthouse, listening to Ana's voicemails didn't raise any red flags. She'd assured me she would be home by seven. However, she was late, and my wife was never late.

Shortly after Taylor and I got home, Gail confirmed what Ana had said in her voice message. After her doctor's appointment, Jane and Paul had given her a ride to their place. Naturally, I called them. I left many voicemails, but they didn't bother to return my calls. I shook my head in bewilderment, wishing I'd taken the time to get to know these people, know where they live. But in truth, I'd taken very little interest in anything having to do with the baby.

Gail had prepared a nice, three-course meal. I had barely tried the appetizers when my appetite completely vanished. I knew by then for sure that something was VERY wrong.

9:00 p.m.

"That's probably not even their last name," Taylor murmured, hanging up the phone in defeat. He'd been calling every number in the phone book listed under the last name of Buchanan, trying to find a landline phone number for these people.

I ran a hand over my hair and held my head. It suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks. My wife was missing, and it was all my fault I had no way of tracking her whereabouts. I was a selfish prick and a moron to boot. I'd purchased the cheapest phone service plan for my wife in the hope of preventing her ex from contacting her...or her from contacting him. I might as well shoot myself in the foot for this.

12:34 a.m.

Taylor and I drove down to the police station. I was livid when a moron at the police station informed me that I had to wait twenty-four hours to file a missing person's report. I clenched my fists, I wanted to grab the officer by the shirt collar. Beside me,Taylor set his hand on my shoulder. He reminded me that there was still much we could do. Even though we'd already contacted everyone that knew my wife, we still had other options.

2:00 a.m

Retracing my wife's steps, we know for a fact that Ana left with Gail for her doctor's appointment in a taxi. After that, Jane and Paul had given her a ride supposedly to visit their home. What happened after that was anybody's guess.

Next, we continued to call every cab company within a two hundred-mile radius. We were able to locate the driver that had given her the ride to the clinic. But there were no other records of any other destinations. I deeply regretted I'd discouraged Ana from learning how to drive. Locating her would be a lot easier if she'd been driving her own vehicle.

When we got to the penthouse, and I plopped on the couch and buried my head between my hands. Taylor suggested I get some sleep.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" I yelled at him as if it was his fault. "There's no way I can sleep knowing my wife is missing!"

Taylor shook his head and made himself scarce. He didn't appreciate being yelled at.

Once again, I buried my head between my hands. When I looked up again, Gail was standing right there, looking pale and blaming herself.

"I'm sorry, Christian. I should have..." she trailed off and started speaking again, but my mind barely registered a word she said. In my mind's eye, I had a vision of my Ana in a horrible car accident. That was the only explanation as to why she or the people she was with weren't answering their phones.

7:00 a.m

I didn't sleep a wink all night, glued to the same spot on the couch. Numbing dread paralyzed my brain and limbs, I cannot shake the idea of Ana being involved in a car accident. All night long, I'd wanted to call all hospitals in the area to see if they'd recently admitted anyone matching Ana's description. But the mere thought of my greatest fear becoming in the middle of the night was horrifying, it felt safer to wait until morning.

Taylor and Gail came in, a flood of sunshine pouring in behind them, making me blink with their brightness. Gail mothered me with some coffee and tray filled with food. But my stomach's tied up in knots, so I refused. She knew better than to insist, she knew my moods, she'd practically raised me. I had to admit, I did find a small measure of comfort in her mothering. It made me notice for a moment, her concern, and the deep shadows beneath her eyes. And I was quick to reassure her that I did not blame her in the least for not staying with Ana after her appointment.

Three hours later, Taylor and I returned to the police station, after having exhausted all the possibilities.

"Did your wife have any...ever mention a particular male friend?" the detective suggested, rubbing his chin.

I was literally shaking with anger. Wanting to grab the man by the shirt collar, I tried to shift past Taylor, but he blocked me, obviously reading my mind.

By the time we get back into the car, my anxiety over Ana's whereabouts has escalated to the point that I was breathing heavily.

I vow to myself that I will be a better husband... if only I would get another chance to show her how much I love her.

….

1:00 p.m.

I was sitting in the car outside the police station when my phone rang in my pocket, startling me.

"Ana?!"

My heart skipped a beat the second I realized it wasn't Ana on the other end of the line. It was a robotic voice reciting an address twice. I motioned for Taylor to get me pen and paper. He immediately handed me a sticky note pad and something to write with.

Needless to say, we drove to address in question, my heart in my throat. Unfortunately, my active imagination went on overdrive. I imagined the worst, finding my beloved wife dead.

A million years passed, or so it seemed. Taylor parked the vehicle after driving up a steep incline. This place was so isolated, my mind was already conjuring up a scene in one of those morbid horror movies I watched as a teenager.

It didn't matter which, the key was always placing the unsuspecting victim in a conveniently remote location.

As soon as he turned off the engine, Taylor scampered to the front door of the house. I unfastened my seat belt, ready to follow suit. But all of a sudden, it was as if I'd been sucked into a dark tunnel. My mind was floating, and yet my body was glued to my seat. My heightened senses picked up an eerie dimension of silence. Perhaps, the worst was how my life suddenly lost its color, and everything around me turned shockingly gray.

The same thoughts kept circling in my head. Ana was dead, I was sure. She'd perished in captivity, that's why they never called for ransom. The mother fuckers abandoned ship when they realized that my real net worth these days was closer to nothing.

I might as well face it. Ana was dead. She was dead because of me, I couldn't even get out of this fucking car and save her. Further proof that was worthless, useless. At least that's what she used to say. Ella. I couldn't even save HER! All I had to do was pick up the phone and call 911. But I didn't call until she was half-dead.

Ella is not moving. She's dead, the grownups in the ambulance tell me. I'm not sure what they mean. Why doesn't she talk to me? Ella? She never wants me to call her mommy, only Ella. I was the only one there when she got sick, but I couldn't help her get better. I 'm bad, very bad, and I need to be punished. Ella says I bother her too much, I cry too much. Sometimes she hits me with a belt so I can be good again. I wish now she would wake up and punish me, but she's not moving at all, and that REALLY scares me.

Stop it, Grey, this is just a panic attack, get a grip!

My heart hammered inside my chest, I couldn't catch my breath, I gripped my seat as everything around me started spinning, jerking around from side to side like tidal waves.

This has to stop!

I desperately forced myself to take a deep breath. And then another. I shout Taylor's name so that he waits for me. But, he was long gone. He'd long since knocked down the door, and disappeared into the house.

FUCK! I cursed in frustration. DAMMIT, I wanted to be the one to go into the house first. I'm beyond angry. I was so furious, I punched myself in the face. And then again. For a second there, it felt justified, I had punched myself in my worthless face.

She was the worthless one, not me, I thought as I stepped outside the vehicle. She was a worthless addict, she didn't deserve my compassion. She often neglected to feed me, left me to my own devices, she only cared about her next fix. So why on earth was I thinking about her right now?

Ana. I should be thinking about Ana.

Taylor's voice was like a beacon guiding my way through the house. Fueled by adrenaline, my legs felt like iron as I climbed the stairs two at a time and burst into the room.

His voice again thundered through my jumbled thoughts, commanding my attention.

"I already called 911, they're on their way!" In the next breath, he informed me that he'd checked, and there was no one else in the house.

My eyes zeroed in on Ana's semi-conscious figure lying on the bed. When finally I lifted her into my arms, her arms came sloppily around my neck, falling like broken pieces of stick candy. And when I lifted her face to look into her eyes, she stared up at me in confusion.

"Oh, Christian! There was a mermaid," she told me, her voice hoarse, small and slurred. "Mermaid," she repeated as though this was important for me to know. Her eyes fluttered, and she lost consciousness again.

The paramedics arrived in a whirlwind of activity. Ana regained consciousness after we arrived at the hospital. I blinked and lost track of time passing, I was just there holding her hand, shifting positions from time to time. I stared at her stupidly when she started asking about the baby. It wasn't until then that it dawned on me she was no longer pregnant.

In bits and pieces, I pieced together the sequence of events following yesterday's doctor's appointment. I felt a massive thump in my stomach when I realized the baby was gone. After all these months, my wish had become true except, I was far from happy. I took both of her hands in my mine and squeezed them. I told her everything was going to be alright.

I didn't know what else I could do. All I knew was that I was never, ever going to let anything bad happen to her again. From this day forward, I was going to be a much better husband and make up for my failure to protect her.

Now I am good. My new mommy says I'm good...very good.

I was both physically and mentally exhausted. Yet, at the same time, the burning feeling in my chest started to melt away as I listened to the doctor's report on Ana's condition. She was going to be just fine, he told me, she was just under the influence of a powerful sedative. As a precaution, however, she would need to stay in the hospital the recommended amount of time for most women after giving birth. I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Silence. The doctor and I exchanged a look.

"Where's my baby?" She asked softly.

"Yes?" The doctor said. He gazed at her with a kind expression.

"Doctor," Ana said, her eyes probing and alert.

"My baby," she repeated, and I felt my heart skip a beat.

The doctor exhaled. "I'm sorry," he shook his head sadly.

"Noooo! My baby is alive, she's alive! They took her!" Ana insisted, bursting into tears.

"Take heart, dear, all will be well," the doctor muttered with a pained expression.

"No...ooo ...I just want my baby! find her," she turned to me with pleading eyes. "Help me find her, Christian!'

I immediately went to her side and held her tight against my chest. If Ana believed the baby was alive, then I wholeheartedly believed her.

"I want my ba...by...my baby...my baby," she sobbed on my shoulder.

There was so much anxiety and pain in her voice, I felt the air constricting with shock and grief. I stroked her hair and kissed the back of her head, wanting more than anything to ease her pain. But she was sobbing too hard, and I felt freaking impotent, unable to ease her pain.

"We're gonna find her," I promised her. Yes, I was going to find her even if it was the last thing I did, I promised myself because Ana's happiness mattered to me more than anything.