The course of
true love never
did run smooth.
-William Shakespeare-
Prologue
in Ana's POV:
September 26th, 2011
I bite my lip in frustration as I scroll through the article published by SeattleNooz earlier this afternoon. The article had its predictable, spurious title about one of my husband's assistants catching my husband having an intimate dinner with a young woman while I was home, concealing my pregnancy.
Of course, I didn't believe the article for a moment. 'Anonymous Source' didn't know what my husband or I did behind closed doors. We kept our inside circles small, and despite Christian's rather lavish spending, eschewed from being flashy enough to catch the eye of the public as a necessary precaution for our safety.
That, not including the over-the-top NDAs he had drafted up for our own security.
So yes, despite the exasperating rumors that my entire family had to field, we took them all with a grain of salt.
This article was not original in the slightest, it was even complete with a blurry photograph of Grey Enterprise Holdings. A bright red circle was drawn over Christian's window, although from the building's distance, it was difficult to make out any shadows in his office, let alone a mistress.
I finish the article with a chuckle and ponder over calling my husband at work. He would surely see the article soon and be furious with SeattleNooz, so I decide to coax him into being rational by informing him about the tabloid personally.
I dial the familiar number swiftly and frown as it rings, and then goes to voicemail.
I still had to re-read a client's manuscript edits before conferencing with him in-person tomorrow, so instead of asking Christian to call me back, I send him a cheeky e-mail expressing my gratitude for him.
Subject: Tonight, Mr. Grey
My day follows without any further interruptions and thankfully manage to finish my workload, as wonted. Once I finish reading the edits of an aspiring writer, Marcus Oliver's, novella, I return the latest edition of his manuscript to my briefcase and refresh my inbox.
No response from my Christian.
"Sawyer, I've finished my work for today. Can you please drop me off at Escala?" I ask, disappointment evident in my voice as I meet him in front of my office door.
"Of course, Mrs. Grey. Is everything all right?"
I answer him with only a small smile and a curt nod before beginning to vacate the building, despite his dubious expression. He follows behind me, matching my swift pace.
We're both silent for the duration of the ride home. The weather is quaint, almost outré for an autumn evening in Seattle, yet the tension in the car and my racing thoughts leave me feeling perturbed. Much like anyone, I hated the feeling of diffidence. Especially over my husband.
My husband, the control freak who would send his fleet of nonpareil security out to search for me if I had stormed off after a fight.
"I do it because I love you, Anastasia." Love is his justification for tenacity.
Yet, all I could feel was uneasiness over my tenacious behavior regarding my recently evasive husband.
He had left for work before I had even woke up this morning, leaving nothing but a message for Gail to be passed onto me. He had an early meeting, but would be home no later than usual.
My mind wanders to the article I had read by SeattleNooz earlier today as I begin to overthink.
He wouldn't.
Christian Grey was many things, fifty shades of fucked-up, but he loved me unconditionally.
And part of that unconditional love was vowing to forsake all others.
I mentally chastise myself, embarrassed. Just because my normally dominating husband wasn't all over me for once didn't mean he was having an affair. I was becoming obsessive.
My harangue comes to an end as the captivating condominium comes into view. Like every work night, I reach the thirty first floor with Sawyer invariably a step behind me, the aroma of Gail's warm homemade meal pulling on my heartstrings from the moment the elevator doors pull open.
My husband's staff was never second-best. From only one whiff of the supper I would soon share with my beloved, a sense of nostalgia washes over me. We had both been so busy lately that I can't exactly recall the last time we sat down to a meal together.
"Good evening, Mrs. Grey," I am greeted warmly. "I'm almost finished with tonight's dinner, it shouldn't be long until I'm ready to serve it."
"Thank you, Gail." We smile at each other and I add, "it smells delicious."
She begins to ask me how my day was, but is cut off by the sound of my cellphone buzzing.
"Ana Grey."
"Mrs. Grey, this is Taylor."
I smile and tone down the professionalism in my voice. "Oh, hello, Taylor. How are you, is everything alright with-?"
Taylor responds before I can finish asking my question.
"Mr. Grey has been shot."
A/N: I apologize for this chapter being quite jumpy and entirely in Ana's thoughts. I wanted to use the prologue to frame the Ana character for this particular story, as well as give an introduction to their current marital status. As always, thank you for reading.
