Dear Daddy Lambert
My eyes unwillingly fight open. I feel groggy, trying to get my eyes to focus on the surroundings of Christian Grey's bedroom. I sigh heavily, and roll onto my side. Christian is lying beside me, draping his arms and legs over me. I've almost become used to his too-hot temperature. Almost. My mind scrabbles slowly, random pixels flying around my numb head. Then I remember what day it is.I stiffen, the thought depressing every cell in my body. I feel Christian stur next to me as he begins to wake.
" Good morning, Mrs. Grey. Sleep well?" He says in a muted yet joyful tone. I forget to react to his question; lost in the fog of deep thoughts. I feel him sit up, leaning on his elbow. He leans slightly over me, tucking some hair behind my ear. He looks down to me, his Grey eyes curious and concerned.
" Ana?" He asks, now more seriousness in his voice. I manage to drag myself from the zone I'm lost in, turning onto my back.
" I'm fine." I say, but my voice gives my anguish away. Christian is now sitting right up, gazing down at me with worried eyes. Somewhere inside me thinks I shouldn't tell him. I don't want to. I feel traces of guilt for keeping this away from him, but I can't urge the words out of my mouth. I get up slowly, heading for the bathroom. Christian follows, his briefs hanging beautifully from his hips. I shake my head mentally, not wanting to go there today. I begin to brush my teeth, seeing Christian's reflection staring at me in the mirror. His arms are crossed and he's leaning casually against the door frame. His eyes focus hard on my face, and I can see he's trying hard to read me. There is a sudden knock on the bedroom door and Christian instantly goes to answer it. I hear Mrs Jones's gentle voice.
" It's Carla Steele on the phone for Mrs. Grey." She says, her tone slightly patronising. I wonder why her voice worries me. Christian walks into the bathroom, his eyes now very confused. He wordlessly passes me the phone as I put it to my ear.
" Mom?" I can hear her sobbing uncontrollably and my heart melts. This happens every year.
" Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry, I keep hoping it'll get easier but-" She begins to sob again, and the rest of her sentence is incomprehensible. Christian's wide eyes look at me, and I suddenly feel anxious. I walk out the room and head towards the library, my mothers sobs continuing. As I walk in, I turn to shut the door. Christian stands at the end of the hall, looking bewildered. I shut the door and prepare myself to face my mother.
