Chapter Seven

It had been three days, 72 hours, 4,320 minutes, 259,200 seconds and counting since they had lost their little girl, a daughter they had yet to name, and Ryan felt as if he was going out of his mind. He hadn't slept, he hadn't eaten, he hadn't even been able to fully grasp the idea that there wasn't going to be a baby for them to love and cherish and raise together as they got older. In the brief moments where Marissa would be lost in a medication induced, agitated rest and he would be able to let his heavy, red rimmed, swollen eye lids droop shut, images would flash through his mind, images of his smiling, happy wife as she cradled her swollen abdomen and giggled at the feeling of their daughter kicking her, images of the night they had probably conceived their miracle child, images of Marissa's sweaty brow while she talked to him through her labor, images that made him feel as if their baby girl was still alive and just waiting to meet them. His hope would be crushed by a sudden realization that nothing was right in their world and pictures of their daughter's lifeless, blue, vulnerable body would haunt him until he opened his eyes to focus instead on his haunted and despondent wife. As long as he focused upon Marissa, he was able to breathe again; he was capable of surviving for the thought of the love he felt for her was enough to make him crave life.

Stopping mid-stride, he quit his pacing and turned to look at the depressed woman laying in his bed, a woman whose heart was breaking and he had no idea how to help her. Slowly, so as not to disturb her, he moved to her side and sat down, climbing under the covers and taking her tossing and turning body into his arms to hold her tight. He needed to feel her close to him, because, through possibly giving her a sense of comfort, he was able to start his own grieving process. Subconsciously, Marissa's hands took hold of his, and, just as she would when she was still pregnant, she placed them on her now baby-less stomach. The feeling of its emptiness made Ryan have to choke back a sob, a lone tear, unstoppable, escaping the tightly shut confines of his weary eyes. Putting aside his pain, he tried to focus on a memory that would bring him hope for the future, a memory untainted by the ache of not being able to conceive and the anguish of losing a child.

Despite the fact that alphabetically they were only separated by one letter of the alphabet, Atwood and Cooper were divided by row after row of other graduating college seniors that afternoon, and Ryan did not like the feeling. This was perhaps the most important day of their lives so far, and he wanted to share every moment of it with her, his long time girlfriend, the woman he had loved more than any other person in this world and would love forever, the person who had made sure he had succeeded and got to that point in his life. As his yearning to have her by his side continued, he smiled as he watched her sitting across the aisle and several paces away in the large, indoor auditorium. The long speeches seemed to drone on, the supposedly wise words of the guest speaker boring the graduates to sleep, and, as he saw her head bob down to gently let her chin rest against her chest, he knew she had fallen asleep. His low, amused chuckle sent several glares in his direction, but nothing would stop him from looking at her.

Perhaps, he had thought to himself, if I stare at her long enough, she'll get a feeling of being watched and will turn around. So, that's what he did through the rest of the guest speaker's address, the President of the University's message, and the Dean of Students' discourse. Finally, as the very first name was called and the unknown person made their long trek to the stage for the students were sitting in descending order, he noticed her head snap to attention, a shy hand going to wipe the signs of her slumber off her gorgeous face. Her hand was still subtly rubbing her left eye when she stopped in mid-motion and slowly turned around in her seat to instantly lock stares with him. Blue on blue, he had become transfixed in her gaze, smiles quickly spreading across both of their faces.

'You know,' his mind had, from out of nowhere, suggested to him, 'if her name was Atwood, too, you'd never have to sit away from her again. She would always be at your side.' And so, just like that, he had mouthed four words that had changed their lives forever: Will you marry me? Across a packed auditorium, with absolutely no prior thought or planning, he, Ryan Atwood, had proposed to the only girl, only woman he had ever really wanted and needed in his life, but the thing that surprised him the most was that Marissa Cooper, without a moment's hesitation, had mouthed back to him a word he would be thankful for until his dying day: yes.

The rest of the ceremony went by in a blur. His name was called to the stage, and as he walked across the expanse of the wooden structure, the only thought that kept running through his mind was that he was HER fiancé. Returning to his seat, he waited and watched her as she kept glancing back at him, the biggest, most beautiful smile on her face he had ever seen until her own name was called. That was his fiancé that gracefully made her way through the graduating procession, his fiancé whose eyes were sparkling like sapphires as she searched the crowd for his face instead of focusing on those presenting her the diploma she had worked so hard for or the family who had been by her side far longer than he had, his fiancé who snuck past the aisle that would take her back to her own seat and came to sit discretely on his lap instead.

They had done nothing while the thousands of other student names had been called but merely stare into each others eyes, his hands tightly held her slim waist to him while her arms wound possessively around his neck, her fingers playing with the long, unruly pieces of his hair that only she seemed to find endearing. Neither of them said a word for they were unnecessary, but, as soon as the announcement was made that the class of 2010 should stand, he picked her up, held her closely to him, and kissed her, his fiancé, as passionately as he could, loving the fact that she seemed to crave his touch as much as he craved hers. Moments later, the ceremony over, they were the only two recent college graduates who walked out of the auditorium, hand in hand, who knew they were wearing their own hats. Too lost in their embrace, they had never tossed them.

His memories would have continued, perhaps recalling how they had celebrated their engagement that evening or the look upon their parents' faces when they had shared the news with them a week later, but Marissa stirring in his arms brought his fantasy world of days gone by crashing around him, and the present became all he could think about.

"Hey," he greeted her awakening figure softly. Unable to think of anything else to say, he relied upon their tried and true greeting. She simply nodded in response, but, when she moved to pull away from him, he just held her even tighter against his body. Deciding he would have to be the one to start any conversation they might need to have, he gathered his thoughts and then began with a simple question. "Are you hungry? I could make you something, anything you want, or order you some takeout." She only ignored his inquiry. "Okay, even if you're not hungry, Marissa, we still have to talk about a few things. We need to tell our family." He paused, swallowing thickly. "We need to make….funeral arrangements for the baby. It's been three days…."

"No," she cried vehemently, wrenching her body away from his and standing up. She was in one of her comfort outfits, a pair of his boxers and one of his large t-shirts from college, so, as soon as she was out from under the warm confines of their comforters, her slim, un-pregnant body immediately was covered in goosebumps as the chill of the night air attracted her defenseless skin, and she wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to offer heat and comfort. "No," she repeated, "we're not telling anyone what happened. It's none of their business. She wasn't theirs; she was our daughter, yours and mine, and we're the only ones who really knew and loved her, so we're the only ones who get to mourn her!"

"They're going to figure it out eventually," Ryan insisted. He didn't want to push her too far, but he knew she was hanging onto her sanity by threads, and he was determined to do everything in his power to help her through the pain of losing their daughter. It was the only way he would be able to make it himself.

"I don't care what they do or what they don't do," Marissa pressed on, turning her back to him and moving towards the basinet they still had set up in their room. She had refused to let him put it away. Resting her hands on the edges, he noticed how tight her grip was as her delicate knuckles turned a ghostly white. In a softer tone, she explained. "They'll just come down here with their sympathy and their platitudes, but none of them know what it's like to struggle for years to conceive a child and then carry and love that child for months only to have them come out of your body already dead. They don't know what it's like to hold your perfect, beautiful daughter in your arms and know that she'll never call you Mommy, that she'll never get to go to school, have a best friend, fall in love, that she'll never be a mother herself, and I don't want to have to pretend to appreciate their compassion and words of wisdom. And then," she let a sob escape her dry, chapped lips, "Summer and Seth would come with their three precious, alive children, and we would have to watch them while we said goodbye to the only child we'll ever have. We don't deserve that, Ryan; our little girl doesn't deserve that."

"So, you want it to be just you and me," he realized. "You want to have a private ceremony to bury our daughter?"

Spinning around with eyes flashing, she glared at him. "Bury her? You want me to say goodbye to our only child forever, to put her in a small, cold, wooden box, and toss her away into a little, dark hole where she'll be alone?" Shaking her head no, she quickly moved towards him, opening their bedroom door and screaming, "leave me alone! I want to be alone!"

"But, honey," his tone was soft, soothing, gentle, "we have to…."

"Get out," she yelled again, interrupting him. "Get out!"

Dejectedly, he did as he was told, closing the door delicately so as not to disturb her as he moved out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Marissa broke down, tears cascading out of her eyes faster than she could even care to wipe away. That wasn't what she wanted; she didn't want to hurt Ryan, because she needed him. He was the only person who understood what she was going through, what she was feeling, and he was the only person who made her feel that she wasn't alone and that there was still hope left in the world, but she couldn't bury their daughter yet. She had only been born three days before, and Marissa needed more time with her. While their little girl was still at the hospital, she felt like a mother, but as soon as they signed her death certificate and agreed to a funeral, everything would be final and the only child she had ever carried and nurtured in her body would be taken away from her for eternity.

Making her way across their room, she went back to the basinet that was set up and ready for their daughter, picked up the baby blanket her own mother had used with her when she was a baby, the blanket she had planned to cradle her own daughter in, and wrapped it around her shoulders as she settled into the chaise lounge in front of their bedroom window. Looking outside, her tears still stinging her eyes, she could see all the things Ryan had built and prepared for their child. He had fixed the swing set, put in a sandbox, blocked off the yard with a white picket fence, and had put baby seats on both of their bikes. Over and over again, her mind would return to her husband. He had given her so much since the day they had met on the end of the Cohens' driveway, and all she had wanted to do was give him one thing: a baby, but she had failed. In her eyes, he had given her everything, love, hope, protection, even her future.

As she waited for him to pick her up for their date that night, she played with the thin CD case that housed a new burnt disk she had prepared for him. Instead of doing the research their tutor had assigned that night, she had surfed the net for new bands, unsigned bands, and had found this group. Although she had never heard of them, she had tried their music and thought they were something Ryan would enjoy. While she had taken her shower and got dressed, she had downloaded the songs and burnt the CD for him, a hobby that was quickly becoming a habit. He seemed to like that she knew him well enough that she could pick out songs he would like, and she loved anything that put his small, unique half grin on his face.

Their senior year by anyone else's standards was untraditional, but, for them, a couple who had never done anything the conventional way, it worked and worked well. After getting kicked out of Harbor, the Cohens had offered to provide them both with a tutor, so not only did they get to spend their days together, but there were no other students to cause trouble in their relationship. It was like they were in their own little universe where the ridiculous problems of Newport and its citizens couldn't touch them. Their mornings and afternoons were spent with the tutor, sneaking longing glances and notes back and forth to each other while their free hands played with the others under the table, and their nights were spent alone, just the two of them, either on dates or simply watching TV in the poolhouse while they did their homework together. Of course, they also managed to find moments of privacy to do…other things together, more pleasurable things.

Watching the Range Rover pull into Summer's driveway, Marissa quickly stood up from her seat on the front stairs and smiled to herself as she saw Ryan jump out of the vehicle and come to her side to give her a soft kiss in greeting and help her into the vehicle. That night they were going out on a date instead of staying in together.

"What's that," he had asked, nodding towards the CD she still held. "Were you playing around on the internet again instead of doing your homework?" Smiling sheepishly, she shrugged her shoulders in answer while slipping the disk into the car's player. "I guess it's a good thing I typed up the assignment so that you can change a few things and have a copy, too," Ryan teased her.

"I meant to do it," she explained, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek for thinking of her and basically doing her work as well, "but you know how I get when I start discovering new artists."

"Oh, so you're discovering them now? Which record label do you work for again, because I forget?"

"Shut up," she had laughed, slapping his arm playfully as she pretended to pout. "If you're not nice to me, I'll start finding bands that only I'll like to torture you with."

He had simply smiled at her as the music started to play, lacing his free hand together with hers while his other continued to drive them to the Diner where they were going to pick up food before leaving again to go parking. Marissa had teased him about the plans, but, on the inside, she had been ecstatic that they were doing something so…normal for teenagers, simple, fun, and completely mischievous. The scenery of the shore passed by the quickly moving, tinted windows of the SUV as they made their way to their destination, and the two of them sat in complete silence, a comfortable, relaxed silence, while they let the music wash over them.

"I like them," Ryan finally broke through the quiet of the vehicle as they pulled into the parking lot of the Diner. "I really like them. You know," he realized, turning to offer her a large, excited smile. "You're really good at this. I know I tease you about it, but maybe you could do this, discover," he mocked with a roll of his eyes, "bands for a record company. If you can find songs that I like, the boy from Chino where, according to Seth, they don't have music, then I'm sure you'd be able to find songs that everyone would like."

Animated, she had asked him, "you really think I could do this?"

"I know you could," Ryan answered, leaning across the console to let his lips meet hers. The simple kiss turned into a fiery embrace as most of their kisses tended to do, and, by the time they pulled away, they were both breathless and fighting to regain their composure.

"So," Marissa said as she rested her forehead against that of her boyfriend's, "we're looking for a college where you can study architecture and I can study…something to make me a talent scout."

"Yeah," he had responded, kissing her one last time before jumping out of the car and running into the Diner. Moments later, he had returned with their orders, and they had quickly sped away for the look out point where teenagers often went parking. That night, as it was early and most high school students were at the Friday football games, they had the cliff to themselves, and, after eating, their innocent make out session turned into more, and they had ended up celebrating their plans for the future by making love. As she had lounged in his arms afterwards, glowing and glistening in completely bliss, Marissa had turned to Ryan, her eyes sparkling and lips parted in a wide smile.

"Promise me," she had demanded of him, "that we'll do crazy, juvenile things like go parking and end up having sex in the back seat of the car when we're old, married, and boring with kids, a house, and a dog of our own."

"It's a deal," Ryan had answered, sealing their vow with another endless kiss. It had been the perfect night, the perfect date, one neither of them would ever forget.

As the memory faded out, Marissa started crying again, fresh tears this time. They weren't from the loss of their daughter or for being mean to the only man she had ever loved, but because she had been the one to break their promise from all those nights before, because something had gone wrong and their daughter had died while still inside of her. She pulled the small blanket tighter around her body, burying her face in the subtle scent of the baby detergent she had washed it with in expectation for the child she would use the blanket to cover, but the thin scrap of material wasn't enough to comfort her. Instead, she wanted Ryan's arms.

"Ssh," he whispered as he molded his body around hers on the chaise lounge. She had not heard him come in but knew he must have been sitting outside of the door listening for when she needed him. "It's alright," he reassured her. "I know nothing seems okay right now, but I promise you, Marissa, I promise you that we'll get through this together, just you and me, and we'll do it when we're ready, when you're ready."

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, turning around in his arms to cling to him as if her life depended upon it. "I didn't want you to leave. I need you….here with me, always."

"I know, I know," he calmed her, his soothing, gentle hands caressing her dull and tangled hair as if it was the most precious thing in the world. To him, it was. "And I never left you," he revealed, "and I never will."

At his words, she glanced up at him, a small smile tracing her lips. "I believe you," Marissa said with a confident voice. "From the day you made me your wife, I knew you'd always be there. You're the only one I can trust like that."

"Just as you're the only person who has always believed in me, stayed by my side no matter how badly I've messed up."

"And I always will," she promised, lifting her body delicately to place a healing kiss on his lips that were designed for only hers to touch before settle back into his arms.

Lost in the moment they were sharing, Ryan let his mind wander back to the day they had gotten married. "I still can't believe you went along with my idea."

"What, you mean a spur of the moment ceremony at the courthouse where we had to pay a couple we didn't know $50 to stand up as our witnesses?" Sighing, she snuggled her head into his strong, protective chest. "It was perfect, just you and me, the way things were always meant to be. I didn't need my family there, because," Marissa revealed, blushing when she looked back up at him, "from the day I first met you, you became my family."

"And you're mine," he agreed with her. "I do have one regret though," he admitted, "not being able to see you in a proper wedding dress."

Quietly, she thought for a moment. "Yeah, but you got to see me in my Cotillion dress, and whenever I imagined our wedding when we were still in high school or even when we were in college together, I always saw myself in that dress and you in the tux you had on that night. In a way, that was our formal wedding. That night was the first night I let myself imagine what it would be like to be with you forever, and, in my heart, I was promised to you from then on."

"Do you still have your Cotillion dress?" She nodded her head yes, curious as to where he was going with his question. "Well then….maybe, and this is up to you, but for our next anniversary, you could wear it, and I'll put on one of those ridiculous tuxes you like me in so much, and we could have another private ceremony, recommit ourselves to each other."

"It sound perfect," Marissa punctuated her statement by kissing him for several moments. Pulling away, she smiled in a cheeky manner. "Do I get as nice of a wedding present again this time?"

"What," Ryan laughed, "another house?" After their ceremony, he had taken for a drive, telling her he wanted to show her a house he liked. They had pulled up in front of their home, and her face instantly fell when she saw that it was sold, because it was perfect for them, exactly what she had always pictured them buying. He had told her that, although someone had bought it, they could still look around, see if it was something they liked so they could look for a similar house of their own. Shocking her, he had walked her around to the back door and away from prying eyes where he had proceeded to break a pane of glass in the French door's window to unlock it so they could get in. Once inside, they had walked around the empty house until they had reached what was the master bedroom. As soon as they had stepped into the room, the only one that was completely furnished, Marissa had started crying as sudden realization set in. There were flowers, unlit candles, food brought in from the Diner in Newport, and more pictures of them together than she could count. He had bought the house for them. The perfect, house of her dreams, was their home, his wedding present to her. Ryan had tried to explain that because he had purchased the house, they couldn't afford a big wedding or fancy honeymoon, but she had cut of his words with insistent kisses and feverish touches, stripping him of his clothes as quickly as her hands would allow her. In that moment years before as they had made love for the first time as husband and wife, as they had made love for the first time in the room that would be their bedroom for the rest of their lives, he had made her the happiest woman alive.

"No," she finally answered him, her voice serious as she shook the memories away, "I don't want another house. This is the only home I ever want us to live in."

"I'm sure I'll be able to think of something you'll like to give you as your present," Ryan assured her. Standing up from the chair, he effortlessly picked her up in his arms and cradled her against his chest as he made his way towards their bed. "For now though," he continued, placing her delicately down against the pillows and blankets, "it's late, and you need your rest." Within moments, he had crawled in beside her, pulling her body to rest against his, her head finding its customary position over his heart. Finally, he was able to rest, his eyes dropping closed almost immediately. "I love you, Marissa."

"I love you, too," she returned without any hesitation. "Forever."

They were both in pain, hurting more than any one person should ever hurt, but they would survive the loss of their daughter just as they had made their way through all the other terrible events of their life: fighting together as one and depending upon the love they felt for each other.