I blinked my eyes and stretched when I felt him stirring beside me. The sun was on the horizon now, out in the distance, bright and beautiful... almost taunting. My body ached from having slept all night on the porch in his arms, and sadly, my heart felt no better for those moments spent together. I turned to where he was yawning beside me and saw that he too was staring out at that same rising sun --a blank look plastered to his face as the bright light played intensely off his beautiful blue eyes.

I thought about all of the beautiful and wonderful and romantic times we'd shared in our lives together and I knew in my heart that this moment really should have been something spectacular. Something worth cuddling up together over and talking for hours. I missed those days when we could sit together for hours just talking. We'd talk about nothing at all... and everything... and it didn't matter which, it always felt amazing.

Now though, now the silence that passed between the two of us was simply that... silence. An uncomfortable silence created by years of comfortable love falling swiftly to pieces.

I turned when he stood and offered me his hand, never taking his eyes from the horizon as he pulled me gingerly from my spot on the steps, helping me stand again, as if it were something he intended to do forever. We stood there together in that awkward silence a few more moments, staring out at the beautiful ocean, as if perhaps the answer to all of life's challenges were floating somewhere out there on a wave. Instead though, I felt we were watching our hopes and dreams fade away with the moon, all our problems coming back with the dawning of a new day.

He was the first to move, turning without a word and swinging the porch door open. With one last glance at the water he slipped inside and let it shut loudly with a bang behind him.

I followed then, well, not really followed so much as I walked in behind him... and from there we went our separate ways. It was odd to think that the only moments we'd really shared together this entire vacation were those moments on the porch the night before. And those moments, as beautiful as they seemed at the time, faded quickly with the sunlight of the morning. I watched as he headed off up the stairs to Mia's room, never taking my eyes away until he was completely out of sight. Only then did I sigh heavily as I headed for the kitchen on the other side of the house. I turned on the pot of coffee and sat down at the counter, wishing we didn't have to pack up and go home. Wishing I could just freeze time... well, not time now... but time years ago when life was happy and I was normal. Well... not normal... I hadn't been normal for a long, long time.

I yawned and rubbed my eyes as exhaustion struck my body. I glanced up at the clock on the wall and realized why. It was only 5 am. The sun rises early at the beach. I may have known that if I'd woken up any other day to view the sunset... or to watch the tide come in. But this time, unlike all other times we'd come to the beach and shared those beautiful memories, I'd stayed in bed most days til late... somedays much later... and somedays all day. I turned the coffee off again and headed up the stairs myself, stopping at my bedroom door and staring at the papers that still lay in a neat pile on the bedside table. I turned away, disgusted with myself and my life. I closed the door tightly, hoping maybe I could lock that part of my life in that room for a while... maybe forget about it forever. I headed down the hall to where I knew my husband and daughter were sleeping.

I slid the door carefully open and stood there, marveling at the sight of the two of them together. Nick laying on his stomach on the bed, the shirt he'd been wearing the night before, as we'd sat on the porch together in one anothers arms, carefully discarded on the rocking chair in the corner. I smiled at the sight of our daughter, our beautiful Mia, cuddled up close, one hand in the pocket of Nick's khaki shorts -- something she'd done since she was a little baby and they'd napped together -- the other resting sweetly beneath her cheek. Her black hair spilled across her sweet little face and I couldn't help but tear up at the innocence of it all. What was I doing? To him? To her? To us?

I tiptoed quietly across the room and crawled under the cover on the other side of the bed. They both stirred momentarily, but quickly found their peace again. I lay in bed for a long while, listening to the sounds of Mia's gentle breathing. Taking in the scent of Nick's aftershave. The breeze from the window beside the bed blew eagerly through the room and I pulled the covers up tighter around myself and slept.

I'm not sure how long I'd been asleep, or how late it was when I finally awoke, but I opened my eyes to the sun glaring brightly in the window. I could feel Mia beside me, her warm body curled close to my chest, her head on my breast and her knee jutting carelessly into my hip bone. It was painful but I didn't care. It was the kind of discomfort I'd always told myself I missed out on during the months that someone else carried her in their womb. It was the kind of pain that made me realize I loved her so much I'd die for her.

I stared down at her for a few moments, her hair damp and her painted fingernails resting beside my belly button. She was sucking her thumb in that sloppy sort of way that always made those wet glurpy noises that I adored. I leaned down and kissed the top of her head, careful not to disturb her slumber but in dire need to feel her closeness. It was then that I noticed him there, on the other side of the bed. He was laying on one side, propped up on his elbow, staring at me in the sunlight.

I wanted to look away but in that moment when our eyes met I felt a compassion so loud that I couldn't. I wanted to reach out and hold him like I held her. To let him know that everything and all of us would be okay. But I couldn't lie. He looked at me for a long while before he laid back against his pillow and stared up at the ceiling.

"What happened to us?"

I didn't know at first if he was talking to me or the fan that spun circles above us. And so I turned to him, catching his eyes again and raised my eyebrows as if to ask the question.

What happened to us Gracie?"

I wanted to answer that question. I wanted to tell him that I was what happened to us. That all of this was my fault and that if anyone should take the blame it should be me. I wanted to tell him all these things, but the words simply would not come.

"What happened to us"... a simple question with a million complex answers. And so... I just shook my head and closed my eyes and did not respond.

I felt the bed beside me move, lifting gently with the departure of his warm body. I heard his footsteps across the room and on the stairs. I heard a door shut in the distance and I knew... once more... that I was slowly losing him.

And it was all my fault.