Eleven days…could it be possible? Could it be possible that it had only been eleven days? She stared at the calendar on the desk. The empty squares seemed to scream at her, an all too familiar reminder of just how empty her life truly was. Walking over to the freezer, she reached in, pulling out another bottle of clear liquid—the only constant comfort in her world as of late.

The phone rang…again. It had rang over and over and over for days and yet she just let it ring. She didn't want to talk. There was nothing to say. No words could bring back the child she so desperately wanted. Joey had pleaded with her to come back to the house with him—the house they'd bought together—the house they'd planned to live in with their daughter.

Kelly took a deep breath as the icy cold liquid began its voyage down her throat. She didn't cry anymore…she was too tired to cry. The tears were all gone. In their place was emptiness, a hole, dreams that would never be realized, arms that would never be filled.

From the moment she'd known about this baby, she'd wanted her, and from the second she'd told Joey, she'd known that this was everything they'd ever dreamed of. They'd married, bought a house, and even started setting up the nursery. In a few short months, they'd be parents. Everything was perfect—until it wasn't.

She hadn't felt the baby move in hours and she was worried. Joey had calmed her, in his way, promising her that she was just being overprotective. After several hours of persistent fears, he'd given in and taken her to the hospital.

The icy cold liquid cascading down her throat paled in comparison to the cold chill that had radiated through her that day. She'd known something was wrong the moment she'd seen the technician's face. She'd said nothing of course, mumbling something about the doctor being in short, but Kelly had known.

Joey had asked him if coming earlier could have saved her—if waiting was the reason she was gone. The doctor assured them that nothing they did or didn't do caused this. It was just something that happened…sometimes they never knew why.

She remember how kind Joey had been to her, how he'd held her as she screamed. She remembered how he'd stood back and watched her as she ripped wallpaper from the nursery walls, how he'd picked her sobbing body up and carried her upstairs when she'd collapsed. He had tried.

"Kelly, Kelly, please answer the phone."

She heard his voice on the answering machine as it echoed through the room.

"We need to talk, Kel. I want to help. I love you, Kel. I need you. Please….Kelly?"

She took another drink from her glass as she felt the lump begin to rise in her throat. She wasn't numb enough yet.

Standing up, she walked to the bathroom, opening the cabinet and peering inside. The bottle sat on the shelf…where she'd left it. She opened the lid, pouring two into her hand. Moving her thumb over them, she stood still, wondering if they could ease her pain….if they could make it better. She picked up the bottle again, pouring the remaining pills into her hand. This, she thought, would make the pain stop….for all of them.

"Of course not," Joey snapped, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. He glared back at the doctor who simply held the clipboard and blinked back at him. "Do you honestly think I would have left her alone if I had any indication she would do something like this?"

"Mr. Buchanan, your wife took an entire bottle of sleeping pills. You had no idea she was depressed?"

Joey ran his hand over his face. "Of course I knew she was depressed. Our daughter just died. Wouldn't you be depressed?"

The doctor made a note on the clipboard. "I'm sorry for your loss, Mr. Buchanan. Your wife will be moving to recovery in a few moments. We were able to pump her stomach and all indications are that she'll be just fine….physically."

Joey nodded. "Thanks," he said softly. He made his way over to the line of chairs by the wall. How was he supposed to give Kelly a reason to live when everything in him wanted to die right along with her?

Sandpaper…her mouth literally felt like sandpaper, she thought as she finally managed to open her eyes. The bright lights overhead assaulted her senses as she struggled to adjust. Looking around the room, it quickly came back to her. The vodka, the pills, Joey. She could remember bits and pieces of the past few hours. She remembered hearing someone beating on the door, remembered hearing him scream her name, and then, on the ambulance ride over, she could feel him squeezing her hand, asking her, no begging her, to hold on….to stay with him.

Slowly, she turned her head. There he was, his back to her, staring out the window. "Joey," she managed. It was unbelievably painful to speak. Somehow the physical pain was almost welcome in comparison to the emotional hell she'd been living in.

The sound of her voice made him turn quickly. He rushed over to the bed, taking her hand in his. "Kel," he whispered, kissing her fingers gently. "Please," he whispered. "Please don't ever do anything like that ever again."

The deep worry lines, an easy sign that he was troubled, were present on his forehead. She could tell how truly concerned he was. "I just…" She didn't know what else to say. "It's…" The tears began to flow again…

Joey shook his head. "You just want it to stop hurting," he whispered.

She nodded, grateful that he at least understood that much. "I just feel so empty, Joey….and that hole…that hole inside of me will never…ever be filled."

"I know it seems that way." Seeing her like this terrified him. Kelly had always been so vibrant, so alive. To see her question whether or not it was worth it to stay…it just didn't seem right. "We'll fill it," he promised. "You can't leave me," he added.

He took her hand in his, bringing it to his chest. "When we lost our little girl, I felt like a part of me died with her. I know it's different for me, but you've got to know that I'm hurting too. I loved her, Kelly. I wanted that life…that family. I wanted that with you more than I've ever wanted anything."

Kelly nodded. She did know that. It was one of the few things she felt certain of…one of the few things that she had never, ever doubted.

"But," he continued, "I love you more than anything else in the world and without you…none of it is going to happen. Without you, none of it matters." He took a deep breath before continuing. "When I walked in that bathroom today and found you there, it was like my heart stopped beating. I can't lose you too. "

She was silent. She had never considered how Joey would feel. Her own pain, her own grief was so overwhelming, so all consuming that it didn't leave room for anyone else's feelings. "I'm so sorry," she managed, her voice still hoarse from the tubes.

"You don't' have to be sorry…just promise me….promise me that you won't leave me." He looked into her eyes, desperate for a sign that he was getting through.

Looking at him, at his eyes, as he spoke to her, she could see how much he loved her, and she loved him back. That feeling, that love, was the first emotion besides grief and anger she'd felt in days. Reaching up, she touched his face.

"I'm here and I'm not going anywhere" she said quietly, breathing deeply. The cold empty feeling seemed to fade as felt his arms encircle her.