I can somehow feel through the numbness Elliott and Carrick's hands on my arms, gently trying to pull me back as I clutch her lifeless body and scream, unable to get go. I can't hear my screams but I know that I am. More than Ana screamed throughout the entire labour. I think the room has my whole family in but I can't see any of them.
Ana's form is laid on the bed in front of me. They've tried to clean up a bit but there is still blood everywhere. So much blood I can't imagine how it would all fit in one human. They've closed her eyes. She is pale. Her face expressionless. I can't stop screaming. I feel my mom touch me and take my hand, prising it from Ana's cold fingers.
"Christian, sweetheart, come on," she is so gentle. We've been here for I know nearly an hour and I'm still nowhere near ready to let go. But I hold my mom's hand in the one that isn't clutching at Ana's arm in desperation. Elliott and Carrick still have my shoulders. An attempt to comfort and remove me from the room. I imagine my voice is hoarse but my ears are filled with buzzing, broken only by my mother trying to distract me.
I'm not crying. I'm not there. I'm screaming, in shock. It takes them at least another 30 minutes and they're guiding me out, back to the empty waiting room. I lose it as soon as I enter. I'm kicking chairs, upturning tables. I pick a chair up and throw it at a wall. I feel my dad try and restrain me but he doesn't have a chance. I am a man possessed. I kick at the wall in anger, punching a door.
Taylor arrives and restrains me. Carefully, not to hurt me but to stop me hurting myself. He's trying to get me into one of the remaining chairs. He has his arms around my chest. It's not tight but the fight has gone. I collapse into the chair, everything shaking. If I'm breathing still, it's laboured. Taylor steps away, clearly to give us privacy as a family.
I can make out legs but can't look up at faces. My mother is crouched right near me, her hand on my arm. My father stood nearby. Elliott and Mia are there too. I don't know where either Kate or Ray are. They're not in with me. Mia sits on the arm of the chair, stroking my hair. I want it to stop but I want everything to stop. No one is speaking because no one knows what to say.
I'm sat numb, my whole body heaving with breaths. Not even from the exertion of destroying the room. Shock I think. I can see bits of furniture, chairs that have broken. I don't care. As I sit, I realise I have no idea how my baby is getting on. Where she's been taken.
Hours must pass in that room. My family talk to doctors. On one occasion when the door opens I can hear Kate wailing. Elliott doesn't go to her, sits there with me. They're still just waiting. They attempt to get me to talk again and again. I have nothing to say. My mom gets the only piece of good news from a doctor.
"Your little girl is doing well, Christian," she tells me, squeezing my fingers tightly. I don't care. I don't want a little girl. I want my wife back. I don't answer my mom, just continue to stare blankly ahead seeing no one. Not one tear shed.
It must be at least six hours by the time I respond to my mother. "Can we take you home, Christian?"
I'm not verbal, I just nod. Like I did when I was a kid. Home to our home. But she isn't going to be there. Never again. But I don't want to be here at the hospital either. The place I lost her. Elliott and Carrick stand me up. I'm so weak. My hands are bruising from punching the wall. Taylor is outside waiting. His face is just as ashen as my family. His words just as useless.
Walking back into Escala nearly breaks me. I step out of the elevator and collapse to the floor. My mom is down to get me. I lay there, breathing shallow. I don't want them to lift me. They get me water but I don't drink it. I just lay still on the cool floor. "Can you go home?" I ask eventually. I'm sick of everyone gathered around, watching me.
No one goes home. I don't go in our room. I lay on the sofa. I lay flat, refusing to let my mom put a cushion under my head. I know I won't be sleeping. I switch the television on and listen to it all night. Reruns of classic shows all night long. As dawn breaks and I've been awake for nearly 24 hours I couldn't tell you what a single one was about. I just need the noise.
"Christian, darling," my mom has been up with me all night. We've barely spoken a word. I don't look over at her. "You've got to try and sleep."
I make a small noise but don't really respond. I'm not moving off this couch. "Get some sleep, mom. I'm fine," I say firmly.
"I'm going to get your dad to come and sit with you," she says standing slowly, placing a kiss on my forehead.
"I'm fine, mom. I don't need dad down to look after me," I mumble back, not looking at her. She squeezes my fingers, lost for words. My dad does come down and he is equally clueless. They spend the next few days trying to take it in shifts.
I don't move from the sofa all week except to use the bathroom on a couple of occasions. I drink a bit of water and I think I eat a couple of cookies practically force-fed to me by my mother. I have no drapes in this room but it is dark the whole time, because my mind is dark. My heart hurts. Teddy has come and babbled at me a few times, but mostly my mom keeps him out of my way, helping Hope with him and the new baby.
I've seen her very briefly and that is it. I have no interest in being near her. She can't bring me any joy right now. As she entered the world her mother left it. No one has pushed it with me. No one has pushed me to do anything. I know Ana's funeral has been being organised around me and I know I've been asked questions but I don't know what and the responses I've given.
Today is that day. I haven't showered in a week. Not since before Ana left. I can tell from people's reactions that I smell really bad. But no one has actually said anything. Perhaps it's contributing to the brain fog. My mom has been removing bottles of urine from the table by me because I have no energy to even walk as far as the bathroom most of the time. To walk through our bedroom. No one has made any judgemental comment, just left me to get on with it.
"Bud," Elliott is crouched by the sofa and I looked at him finally. His face is a picture of concern. "Can we get you up? Get you in the shower. You can't go like this."
I'm in the same clothes from the day of the birth. My face and hair are covered in grease. My t shirt is dirty, my jeans have lost any kind of shape and are slipping down on me. I haven't really considered the state of my boxers but I expect they need to be burnt. "I don't want to go," I whisper, hearing a small crack in my voice. This is the closest I have come to tears all week.
"You'll regret it if you don't, Christian," my mom's voice is gentle and reassuring. Mia and my dad are sat on the sofa opposite, Mia's nose crinkled from the smell. I expect I smell like my birth mother and her pimp did. How Leila smelt.
I know my mother is right but I really feel too weak to move. "Can you help me up?" I mutter to Elliott, who nods at once, putting an arm behind me to start to lift me. I sit up, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.
"You're going to have to eat a little something before we go. You're not going to be able to lift the coffin like this," my mom says as I choke back a sob. The thought of the coffin is slowly killing what life is left inside of me.
"Okay," I say eventually, letting her go and fix me a sandwich. She tells my dad to run a bath for me. Elliott passes me a glass of water as I sip it slowly. I'm so relieved I can't see myself. I can feel the weight of the grease in my hair.
My mom brings me a plain cheese sandwich and I nibble through about half. It's hurting to eat. Every mouthful feels like a kick as it reaches my stomach. My mom takes the plate from me, setting it down on the side as Elliott helps me up.
I know we're going to have to walk through our bedroom. Mine and Ana's room. The last place we were together in this home. I take a small gasp of air as we walk through. It tastes disgusting. My teeth haven't been brushed in days. Wow, my family must have strong stomachs. Elliott is walking beside me, ready to catch me if I fall.
The bath smells good as I get into the bathroom. I haven't looked around the bedroom or the closet, the bathroom is just as we left it. All of Ana's rows of toiletries are on the side. I take a deep breath and collapse to the floor, Elliott catching me halfway down to ease me to the floor the rest of the way.
"I know it's hard, sweetheart," my mom speaks so quietly. She kneels in front of me, carefully taking my t shirt off. I glance down and can see my ribs for the first time in a long time. My mom clearly isn't surprised by how much weight I've managed to lose in 7 days.
"Come on, let's get you up," Elliott says helping me into a standing position. I reach for my jeans and slide them off with my boxers. I'm naked in front of my mother. I literally don't care. There is no shame or embarrassment here. At this point, it is what it is. I step into the warm water, sinking down. The bubbles cover everything anyway and I expect she had the decency not to look.
"Can I wash your hair?" She asks me gently, getting some shampoo. Elliott looks awkward, grabbing a wash cloth and making a start on my face. The grime coming away on the white flannel would be horrifying in any other circumstance. He helps me wash my torso as my mom works on getting the grease out of my hair. I'm too tired to care.
Elliott passes me a clean flannel. "I'm not going down there," he tells me firmly and I manage to crack the first smile in seven days as I wash myself. My mom switches on the handheld shower to rinse my hair out.
"What do you want to do with your beard?" She asks me gently as I shrug.
"Shave," I mutter. She gets a razor and some lather and shaves my face so carefully. I'm shocked she doesn't manage to cut me at all. Perhaps she could cut me really deep and I'd bleed out like Ana and not have to attend her funeral. I swallow the thought with another very deep gulp before standing to get out.
My mom grabs a white bath sheet to cover me as I wrap myself up. I manage the few steps to the sink, picking up my toothbrush and carefully brushing my teeth. I catch the first glimpse of myself. My face is sunken. My eyes have this greyness all the way around them, I know is from not sleeping. There is no light in my eyes. I hate my face at the best of times but it looks much worse now.
I manage the walk to my bedroom by myself, the calories from the half a sandwich now making their way into my bloodstream. I don't feel brighter in myself but I feel physically more able. I grab a comb and put it through my hair, combing it as far into my eyes as I can. I want to hide, I don't want anyone seeing me like this.
My family, or maybe I did, have chosen a smart black suit with tie and crisp white shirt. My fingers are shaking as I do the buttons on the shirt. My mom is waiting to do the tie, knowing I'm not going to be able to complete this task. I fasten my dress pants and shrug the jacket over my shoulders. I let my mom carefully fasten the tie for me before heading back to the living room.
I can smell myself as I enter. That dank, dirtiness. But it's not a problem for long because it's there. The coffin. In a beautiful mahogany wood I know I will have chosen. I know it's customary for it to start off here. At the home of the deceased. But I just didn't think it through. I know I will have agreed this. I slide to the floor again.
I'm crying now. My whole body is shaking. It's the first time I've let tears out and they're coming hot and fast down my face. My mom grabs me tissues, not wanting me to ruin my suit. Who cares about that? I wipe copious amounts of snot in one, so out of it I pass it to my mother like a child would. She clearly doesn't mind. I don't know how long I'm sat there crying. I'm very aware though it is not just my family in the room.
Ray, Ana's dad is there. He is watching me and not making any attempt to hide it. He looks aghast too. His face is colourless, having not slept all week too I expect. Carla is sobbing into a handkerchief, Bob rubbing her back. Jose and Kate are there. Kate's face has colour but I know it is raw from wiping tears and snot from it. She hasn't even bothered with make up, which is very un Kate like. Elliott and my dad lift me up.
Kate hugs me as I walk towards the coffin and the tears start again. She is crying too. We're both shaking in one another's arms. The pall bearers move to take the coffin to the elevator. I can't go in with it. Ana's family get in too, leaving Kate with us Greys in the living room, waiting to take the next one.
My hair is drying and I pull it even further into my face, wanting to hide as we step into the elevator. My family are watching me but trying to pretend like they aren't. As we reach the garage there's the hearse, the coffin inside. It jolts me again, this time in my stomach and I have to hold on to my sandwich.
Ray is getting in the first car with Carla, Bob, Kate and Jose meaning that I, as Ana's next of kin, am going in the second car with my family. Ana wouldn't want me to make a fuss about this though, so I bite my tongue and climb in. I have the middle seat between my mom and brother. The fewer good photographs the papers can get of this event the better.
We've managed to sign off on six pallbearers to take Ana on her near final journey into the church. It is what she would have wanted, a traditional funeral. I am glad my mom forced me to eat as the coffin is slid from the hearse. Ray and I will walk at the front, with Elliott and Jose in the middle, my father and Bob at the back.
The heaviness of the wood hits my right shoulder as we lift it. I think the others may have rehearsed. I sure as heck haven't. It's the coffin that is heavy, there was never anything to Ana. I don't think it helps I feel so weak. I can't look at the congregation, just focus on my feet as we walk, sliding it onto the table at the front. I don't think I have ever walked so far in my life. Every step was exhausting, stabbing me in the lungs.
The funeral seems far too upbeat given she died so young. 25 years old. Lord of the Dance is sung by most but I'm too busy fighting with tears that are flowing down my face, hitting my shoes and the floor in front of me. My mom passes me more tissues, a seemingly endless supply of Kleenex.
Then it's my turn. I walk past the coffin and it floors me all over again. Hundreds of eyes are on me. Ana was so popular, I should be grateful they're here but right now they're boring into my soul. I pull out some notes from my inside pocket. The only thing I am conscious I have done this week. I've tried so hard but it's awful. It's not good enough for Ana. I've let her down.
"Anastasia," I begin and I'm crying already. I need to pull myself together. I have to get through this for her. This isn't about me and how I'm hurting.
"Anastasia," I say again. Everyone is watching me crumble. I see Gail a couple of rows back, sat with Taylor and Sawyer trying to give me an encouraging nod. They have been amazing this week. Kept so far out of my way on my request I wouldn't have even known they were there. While my family have gathered around me, and I know why, they've actually respected I needed time to myself.
"Anastasia," I start for the third time. If anyone is getting impatient with me, they're not showing it. "We met just three and a half short years ago. This feels like it will be the last thing I will say to you," I gulp. "But it won't be. I'll talk to you every day for the rest of my life."
"During our short time together, you have made me the happiest and luckiest man in this world. I had the most organised and boring life before I met you," I continue, trying to steady my shaking voice. "Then you made my world chaotic. And full of colour. I didn't know what love was before we met. When we did it felt like someone had turned a switch on." I pause, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.
"You've made me feel things I never felt before. And I won't ever feel again," I stutter a little. The love of my life is gone. Not even four years of my life passed with her. In technicolour. "You are the kindest and warmest person I have ever met. The funniest. You're so easy to get along with but yet you always knew how to wind me up. I've never been happier," I mumble my voice breaking really hard this time. I have to get through this.
The tears aren't stopping. I'm letting Ana down. Everyone is watching me, in that embarrassed way you might watch someone who is having a nervous breakdown in front of your eyes. I think I'm going to be sick. I grab the stand in front of me, trying to steady my breath.
"Mom," I mumble as I cover my face with my hands. I want to sit on the floor and rock but even I can't do that. My mother is up straight away and takes the cards from my shaking fingers.
She is holding it together well. She turns to the next card, taking a deep breath before starting. I've let Ana down so badly. The least I can do is stand up here and cry in front of everyone. "You are your own person and I am so happy that I got to share just a few short years of that with you," my mom continues. No one else will get the first line, except maybe Kate, but Ana needed to hear it.
"You are so clever and talented. I admire every step you have taken to become an editor and to run your own company. I love how you're always there for other people. The light in everyone's life. You're the best mom Teddy could ever ask for."
"I know that we will continue to talk, even if you can't talk back to me. You gifted me two beautiful children. And I will keep you up to date with everything in their lives. They will know you as if you are here."
"I love you forever," I whisper, finishing the speech and going back to my seat. My head is in my hands and even though the priest is talking now, I know everyone can still hear me sobbing. I'm an actual mess. I've had all week to cry but now is the moment by body has fully chosen to give out.
I'm crying into my knees. I can feel my mom's hand on my back but all I can see if the coffin in my peripheral vision. I know the next part and I don't want to face it. As the final hymn is finished I stand to walk back to the front of the church, visibly shaking. Ray looks annoyed with me. I can't deal with that right now. I take a deep breath as we lift the coffin again.
The sun is blinding my bloodshot eyes as we step outside. We're following the priest to the grave. I feel myself trip at one point but we keep going. It doesn't jolt Ana and I am relieved. The final journey seems too short but like it will never end at the same time. I take a huge gulp of fresh air as we place her on the stand, ready to be lowered into the ground.
I step away from the grave for fear of throwing myself in there with her. I reach for my mom's hand, holding it tightly like a child. Mia takes my other hand as the coffin is slowly lowered to the ground. Kate is crying into Elliott's chest and not watching. I can't look away. I'm not crying now. My face is dry, my eyes sore as I stare, watching the coffin disappear into the ground. My last ever glimpse of her over.
I'm transported back to her falling into my office in 2011. The first time she looked at me and I know it's over. She won't look at me again. The tears start to flow again and I bury my face in my mother.