My eyes flicker open multiple times throughout the day but my body barely processes it, falling back into darkness each time. It doesn't matter if the sun is shining in my eyes or I hear Matteo rustling in the room. Even when he tries to wake me, I still can't open my eyes.
It isn't until I feel two hands on my face that I finally can see. "Emma, you need to get up, right now. You've been sleeping for over twenty-four hours. You haven't eaten in almost two days."
I look into Matteo's face and turn, escaping his grasp, closing my eyes again. "I'm not hungry, Matteo. I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, you're depressed. I get that and you're scaring the shit out of me. I'm not going to let you do this to yourself."
I peek through one eye, aggravated. "Do what to myself?"
"Break. I'm not going to let you break right now."
"Just let me sleep, Matteo. Please," I plead, clutching onto the pillows.
My body hurts. My stomach hurts. My head hurts. My heart hurts.
Sleep makes all that go away.
"Damn it, Emma!" he growls. I want to open my eyes when I hear the concern in his voice but whatever is hovering above me is too strong. I'm being selfish and I can't stop it.
I hear him stand up from the bed.
"Well, you've left me no choice then," he growls before I succumb to the darkness again.
.***
The light flickers on and I squint, feeling the bed drop beside me.
"Emma, wake up."
My eyes peel open as I find my mother sitting before me. My father is behind her, looking pretty horrified. My eyes wander back to my mom, who shakes her head, resting her cold hand beneath my neck.
"Matteo, bring the food over here."
She lifts my head up, forcing me to sit up. I glare at Matteo, who sets down the tray on the nightstand.
He glares right back. "Don't look at me like that. I'm really pissed at you."
"You were right in calling us, Matteo. It's just the grief talking."
"I can hear you, Dad," I snap, leaning back against the headboard. My bones have never felt as bad as they do now. I hear cracking. My mother grabs the plate of steak and green vegetables, holding a fork. I look away from her when she tries to feed me— in front of my husband and father.
"I can feed my own damn self."
"Except you haven't," Matteo snaps. My dad rests his hand on his shoulder, stopping him. My mother looks at the both of them.
"Guys, can you go for a walk or something? I'd like to speak with Emma alone."
I remain silent, feeling like a teenager all over again. I rub my eyes as the men turn, walking towards the door.
My mother hands me the plate of food, settling it into my hands gently. I look up at her, tight-lipped. She sighs, rubbing her hand over my thigh. "Men don't always understand, Em."
I stare at her, unable to speak.
"Matteo doesn't understand what you're going through. His attachment was strong, but you loved that baby the moment you held it. It took him a long time to feel love for him..." She smiles softly. "But you have to cut him some slack."
I look up, trying to push back the tears that form against my will.
"He's downright terrified and has every right to be. I mean, look at you. You haven't showered in days. Your eyes aren't even black anymore. They are purple. I mean, the guy said he hasn't left this hotel, scared you'd do something to yourself!"
I can't look at her as she speaks, ashamed. "I can't help it."
"I know you're depressed, Emma. I know this hurts more than he could know, more than I or anyone could know, but Charles didn't die. You will see him again."
"And that will be worse. I'll have to leave him all over again. And repeat. It won't ever end!"
"Which is why you need Matteo's support. You were... you are Charles parents. You need to get up and you need to focus on healing together. Get out of this hotel room."
"Mom—"
"No, Emma." She points to the food. "You're going to eat all of that food and then go take a shower. Veronica is coming for dinner later and you know she won't stand to see you like this."
I shake my head, looking down, grabbing the fork. I stab a few green beans and shove them into my mouth defiantly.
She wins.
***
I pull a white t-shirt over my head, looking at myself in the mirror. In jeans as well, I'm decent enough to escape the confines of the bathroom, if still a little disheveled. I rest my hand over the star around my neck, the necklace Matteo gave me to see if the strong, smooth presence can give me enough strength to leave my solitude.
I'm numb. There aren't tears left anymore, I know it. I've used them all up.
I look down at the makeup bag Matteo grabbed from the house on the counter but can't bring myself to actually apply it. I reach for the door, fully prepared to grovel.
Matteo is on the couch. He shifts, finding me there and smirks slightly. "Well, you look like my wife again."
With relief, I walk over to the couch quickly, climbing onto his lap. I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders, sighing. "I'm sorry. I've been so difficult and terrible... just the worst."
"Well, not the worst," he teases, rubbing the space between my shoulders. "But, I did want to pour ice water on you a few times."
I hum, shaking my head. "I would have killed you."
He laughs tiredly. "I know."
"Veronica will be here in an hour, so prepare yourself."
"I know. Mom told me." I breathe in, glancing around at the gorgeous room I haven't even looked at until now. "I'm not really sure about it... but do you want to try to go back to the apartment tonight?"
He looks shocked I've even suggested it, and he has every right to be unsure of my mental state currently. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"
"I can't hide forever. And I can't make you hide forever."
He pulls me closer, nuzzling his nose against my cheek. "There's my girl."
***
The light flickers on as we enter our Park Avenue apartment. I stop in the doorway, eyes hesitantly moving across the furniture. The Sippy cup on the counter. Big Bird beside it. The farmhouse blanket draped over the couch.
I brace myself, clutching tighter onto Matteo's hand.
Breathe, Emma. Breathe and think rationally. Don't run. He's expecting you to run. I clear my throat and let go of him, taking the bag off of my shoulder, setting it onto the ground.
"I'm going to put his things in his room," I tell him.
"I'll help you."
"You don't have to. I got it."
"Are you sure?"
I grab the Sesame Street animal off of the counter. "Yeah."
Matteo grabs the bags, taking them into the bedroom as I walk around the apartment, scooping up anything that reminds me of Charles until there is no room in my arms. I hurry towards his room but freeze at the door as if there were a force field blocking me from going in. I struggle to swallow and realize I'm not ready to go in there. I set down the items on the ground, right beside the door and back up, heeding my minds call to get away from the room.
I do what it tells me to do and I leave. I meet Matteo by the bedroom door. He glances over my head at the pile on the ground down behind me.
"I'm just going to leave it there."
He nods understandingly. "It's been a long day... Let's go to bed."
I rest my face against his chest as his arm comes around my shoulder.
We lock ourselves in the bedroom, momentarily safe from the memories.
***
I pace by Charles' door in the dark apartment in only a tank top and panties, straight out of bed. It's past two in the morning, but I haven't been able to sleep. So, I'm here.
Here wondering if Charles is sleeping through the night, if he's eating right. If he's getting the attention he needs... if he's asking for us?
I grab the knob and push it open. Pressing my lips together, I'm able to see the room because of his green sleeping nightlight. Unsure as to what I'm feeling, I bend down and begin grabbing the stuffed animals and toys and blankets, setting them inside in their places one-by-one. After placing Big Bird on the bed, right in the middle of the pillows, I decide to climb onto the child mattress, lying down on my side. When I rest my head on the pillows, I close my eyes, able to smell him, smell his soap.
The loss is suffocating. I can smile and talk and act like everything is okay but it's not.
It feels like it never will be again.
***
The mattress lowers and I open my eyes, jerking awake. Matteo gazes down at me in the darkness, rubbing my leg gently. I blink, realizing where I am. A child's bedroom.
"I couldn't sleep," I admit reluctantly.
He nods, smiling softly. Standing up, he bends to scoop me off the mattress. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face into his throat tiredly as he turns, walking us back to our bedroom.