Chapter Two

Eli

Five years later...

My worst nightmare is coming true.

As I pace the hospital corridor, my heart threatens to catapult out of my chest, which seems to be shrinking with each second. The rubber soles of my shoes squeak against the bleached floors. My forehead is frozen in a creased state. My jaw remains tightly clenched.

Each time someone in white appears, I look up in hope of news. Each time I hear a baby cry, my heart stops.

I glance at the watch on my wrist for the hundredth time.

How long has it been since Merry went into labor? How long have I been in this corridor? How much longer do I have to wait?

Then there are the more important questions, the ones that make it painful for me to breathe. Is Merry going to be alright? What if her body can't take this?

That last thought nearly drives me mad each time, and if I don't keep walking, I know I'll sink to my knees. So I walk. And I run my hands through my hair in frustration all the way to my nape. And grit my teeth. And pray, even though prayer isn't my thing, that my wife will pull through.

My wife.

I stare at the golden band on my hand. With each minute, it seems to be getting heavier and tighter, suffocating my finger. I clasp my trembling hand to my chest.

Meredith... Merry, please hang in there.

The doors at the end of the hall fly open. A woman still wearing her surgical gown, mask and cap walks towards me. I stand still as my heart shifts to a higher gear.

"Mr. Strauss?" she asks as she removes her mask.

I nod. I'm trying to dissect her expression for any emotion. Relief? Joy? Fear? Sorrow? But I'm staring at a poker face.

She wrings her hands. Nervous.

"Mr. Strauss, I'm happy to tell you that you're a father," she announces with a smile. "Your daughter is - "

"Is Merry - Meredith okay?" I cut her off.

Her smile turns upside down and my heart sinks.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Strauss." The doctor takes a deep breath. "But the rigors of labor - "

"I thought she wasn't supposed to go into labor. Isn't that why a C-section was scheduled?"

"Yes, but she went into labor earlier than we predicted. I'm afraid that in spite of all the technological advances in the field of medicine, the human body remains a mystery - "

"Is Meredith okay?" I repeat my question.

"As I was saying, the rigors of labor and the blood loss from the C-section..."

Blood loss. My mind drifts off course. My gaze drops to the floor as it trembles beneath my feet.

"...too much, given her pre-existing medical - "

"Where is she?" My fists grab the front of her gown.

"Mr. Strauss, you have to calm down."

"Where... is... my wife?"

The doctor sighs. "Please come with me."

I let her go and follow her back into the operating room. The first thing I notice are the dim lights, then the people in surgical gowns gathered around a bed. My trembling hands clench into fists.

"Let's give Mr. Strauss a moment of privacy, shall we?" the doctor says.

As the crowd disperses, I see Merry on the bed. Golden coils stick out from under her cap. Wires connect her to the machines beside her, but I don't look at them. My eyes linger on the blanket covering her lower half, stained red.

With heavy feet, I approach her side. I try to stop my hand from shaking as I reach for hers. Her eyelids flutter open, and as our gazes meet, a smile stretches from one pale cheek to another.

"Eli," she whispers my name.

"I'm here, Merry," I tell her. "And I'm not leaving your side until we get out of this hospital."

Her lips purse.

I squeeze her hand. "You - "

"Did you see her?" Merry asks me. "Our girl, Marianne. She..."

She stops. Her mouth gapes as she takes a gulp of air.

"Shh." I stroke her hand. "Don't talk. You've been through a lot. Save your strength."

Merry turns her head towards me. Beads of tears appear at the corners of her eyes as her gaze holds mine. My heart clogs my throat.

"Eli, I'm... sorry."

I shake my head. "Why are you apologizing, silly?"

Her lips quiver along with the hand held tightly in mine. "I wish we..."

Her sentence trails off as her voice fails and I bend over to listen. "What's that, Merry?"

"...your fault. If only..."

I wait for the rest, but I don't hear more. Her hand grows limp in mine as the machine beside me goes into a long beep.

My lips part. My chin trembles as I lift my head.

No.

Merry's blue eyes stare at the ceiling, the light gone from them. The trail of a final tear remains on her cheek.

I close them gently and then press a quivering kiss to her forehead. I remove her cap and stroke her hair as a wail escapes my throat along with my soul.

~

Empty.

That's how this big house feels even though there are dozens of people downstairs. Where did they even come from? And why are they all in black? Don't they know Merry hated black?

No. None of them know her like I did. And no one understands how I feel. Just hearing them say so makes me sick.

Why are they here?

Not to comfort me, because no one can. To see how I am? To feel sorry for me? Why are there even funerals in the first place?

When I reach the top of the stairs, I pause for a moment to savor the solitude. Then I walk down the hall to lock myself up in my office with a bottle of Scotch and maybe some business matters to occupy my mind.

I notice that one of the doors is open, the door to the nursery. Julie, Merry's mother, is standing inside the room swaying gently and humming softly. Instead of a black dress, she's wearing a green one, Merry's favorite color.

She's the only one who knows Merry like I did.

As she turns, I see Marianne in her arms. Marianne, the tiny being who came out of Merry as she died, with the same golden wisps and the same blue eyes.

I haven't held her once since Merry died.

One look at her and I remember Merry and everything she used to be as well as the nothingness she's left behind. One look at her and I remember my guilt.

It's my fault Merry died. She said it herself. If only I hadn't been so selfish, so reckless. If only I had held back as I promised I would. I knew her condition. I knew a baby would kill her. Still, I put one in her.

My jaws clench at the thought. My nails dig into my palms inside my pockets.

"Eli," Julie speaks in a hoarse voice.

The rings beneath her eyes tell me she hasn't slept in the past four days, just like me. She's not wearing her usual magenta lipstick, either. Merry used to joke and say she and her mother looked like sisters, no more than a few years apart. Now Julie's age is obvious.

No. She looks much older. I can almost see the bones through her pale, deflated cheeks.

I step forward. "I'm sorry."

Julie's gaze races from mine to rest on Marianne.

I look away as well. "I should have taken better care of her, of... Merry."

Julie says nothing.

When I glance at her again, I see a lump wobble down her throat. Her lips tremble slightly and so does her voice.

"There's nothing we can do about it now."

My face falls. She's right, of course. No matter how sorry I am, it's pointless. No matter what I do, I can't bring Merry back. She's gone. I've lost her forever.

No. I killed her.

"She looks like Merry, doesn't she?" Julie asks.

My eyebrows go up as I lift my chin. What? Oh, right. She means Marianne.

I simply nod.

"Do you think it's okay if I look after her? It will almost feel like looking after my Merry all over again."

As she strokes Marianne's cheek, a tender smile lights up her tired face. Those sleepless eyes of hers flicker with hope.

How can I refuse? And why should I? I don't really care. Merry never got to be a mother. She wasn't supposed to be. I don't deserve to be a father.

"She's your granddaughter," I answer. "Do whatever you want."

I leave the room before Julie can say anything else, not that she has any more to say.

This is for the best. It's what Merry would have wanted, I'm sure. As for me, it makes no difference. Whether Marianne is around or not, my crime and my guilt remain.

I enter my office and lock the door behind me.