A/N: It's hard to believe Late Night Thoughts Anniversary is on 8/26. I was going to wait to post this, but figured what the heck. This one shot is just for fun. A bit tongue in cheek…if you read Late Night Thoughts, you already know my sense of humor.
For those who read Late Nights…This is a light and fluffy one shot. It takes place back in the 20 years later timeline. So your favorite dog is back. This story is the follow up to the Sixty Ways of Shay chapter (Chapt 55).
For those who don't read Late Nights ( gasp!) : Ana has read a trilogy called Sixty Ways of Shay ( a thinly veiled reference to FSOG). It's made her so horny, that even CG can't keep up and has complained about her sex drive to his dog, Baxter.
I'd like to thank everyone once again for all of the support Late Night Thoughts- 20 Years Later has received. Your reviews and PMs were (and still are) very much appreciated.
Thank you to Marpuri for sparking the idea for this chapter months ago.
*** Our very own Wordrunner's new book Young Revelations by W.R. Kimble will be released on Sept 10th. Her first book Young Lies will be free on Amazon Sept 6th through the 10th. She's an amazing writer. You don't want to miss this! ***
I do not own the characters. They belong to EL James. This is just for fun.
"Go on Baxter, get the ball." I throw the ball across the Great Room. Baxter retrieves it and comes back to me, dog saliva dripping off the ball as he drops it at my feet. It's disgusting, but it makes the little guy so fucking happy.
I throw it once more; he rushes for it and drops it once again at my feet. I square my shoulders and look at him sternly. His ears instantly go flat against his head as he lowers it, gazing down. A feeling of satisfaction washes over me. My fucking perfect submissive dog.
I hear sniffling as Ana enters the Great Room. Her eyes are red and puffy. Christ, she's been crying again. This is the forth time in two weeks. I cock my head to the side, deciding whether to let it go this time or say something.
"Baby, what's wrong? Did something happen? Are the kids alright?"
"Yes," she sniffs. "Everything is fine. Don't mind me."
"What do you mean don't mind me? Ana, something has obviously upset you. Tell me what it is."
"It's nothing really." She musters up a smile, but I know it's not genuine.
"It looks like something to me. You've been crying on and off for days, Ana. I want to know what it is for fucks sake that has been upsetting you. I've been biting my tongue for a week about this."
"It's nothing Christian. I'm just feeling emotional. I don't know why. There's nothing wrong. I promise. Can we just drop this please?"
"Fine." I sneer. "I'm taking Baxter outside for some exercise." I stalk away, leaving in a huff.
"Christian…please don't be like that," she calls out to me.
I throw up my hands. I give up.
~o0o~
Baxter and I are sitting on the dock overlooking the water. I like coming out here to think. It's a beautiful afternoon to sit and watch the boats sail by. Come to think of it, I haven't taken out the Grace III in a while. I'd go out with Ana tomorrow, if I weren't afraid that she'd break out in tears and render herself useless. I can't sail that boat on my own.
"I don't know what's going on with the Mistress of the house, Baxter, but her moods are like a rollercoaster ride, up and down, twisting, turning, I never know where the fuck she's going to end up."
Baxter's paws at me and moans. I look at him with his big brown dog eyes; I'm a fucking sucker for this dog.
"All right, I'll pet you for a little while." I scratch behind his ear, he tilts his head as his leg shakes uncontrollably. I laugh to myself. That never gets old.
"It's got to be hormones. Don't you think, boy? Maybe she's going through some sort of early menopause. Her mood is changing all the time. One minute she's crying, the next minute she's wants to fuck. Last week we fucked, and then she cried. It's exhausting. She insists there's nothing wrong. I've grilled Sawyer and he assures me that there's nothing he is aware of that is out of the ordinary. It's like I'm married to two different women. Some men might find that appealing, but it's giving me a fucking headache. "
~o0o~
Ana and I are sitting at the breakfast bar enjoying another fantastic Gail Taylor dinner.
"So…" I say, steepling my fingers in front of my mouth.
"So…what?" she asks.
"I've been doing some research."
"On…?" she asks with a bemused smile.
"Hormones."
"Hormones? Do you think you have a hormonal imbalance or something?" She teases.
"Not me."
"Wait a minute; you think I have a hormonal imbalance?" She folds her arms across her chest.
"Yes. Hear me out. What you are experiencing is very normal for a woman your age." I assure her.
"Really Dr. Grey? What, pray tell, are my symptoms?" she barks.
"Watch your tone, Mrs. Grey. I'm only trying to help."
"I'm sorry, you're right. Can you explain to me what has brought you to the conclusion that I have a hormonal imbalance? I'd really like to know," her voice softens, but there's still a tinge of sarcasm in it.
"Ana, even you should recognize your mood swings lately. One minute you're happy, then you're depressed and hiding out in our bathroom in tears, the next thing I know you're so horny, I think you might be trying to kill me. You're all over the place."
"You think I'm trying to kill you?" She grins.
"Yes."
"Death by Sex. I suppose there are worse ways to go. You poor man. If you don't want me…"
"Don't turn this around. I always want you, you know that. It's just lately I don't know which Ana I'm coming home to."
"Christian, you are imagining things." She rolls her eyes.
"Really? Was I imagining your tears last night? I have eyes Ana. I can tell when you've been crying."
This is ridiculous. I do not have a hormonal imbalance."
"Peri-menopause." I state flatly.
"What?"
"Peri-menopause. That's what you're going through."
"You've diagnosed me?" she snorts.
"Yes."
"And where did you earn your medical degree? Did it pass by osmosis from your mother to you?"
"No. WebMD."
"The internet? Seriously Christian? You're the CEO of a multi billion dollar corporation and you spend your day on WedMD?"
"For you, yes. I suggest you make an appointment for blood work. This way we can see where your hormone levels are and deal with it accordingly."
"We?" she asks.
"Yes, we. Your body is mine. I want you healthy, both physically and mentally. This isn't anything new."
She closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose, shaking her head. She looks back up at me and sighs, nodding her head. She's reached some sort of conclusion. Ah, finally I got through to her and she sees my point.
"Can I ask you something?" Her lips pursed.
"Of course."
"Are all husbands this clueless?" she asks in a sharp tone.
"Don't get defensive. I'm trying to help you."
"Do me a favor. Don't help." She stands and leaves the room.
I crouch down to Baxter who's been sitting at my side waiting for some attention. I scratch behind his ear as he tilts his head.
"Women…can't live with them, can't fuck without them. Come on boy, let's go to my study."
~o0o~
In what has become the new norm, I walk into our bedroom and Ana is already in bed with her laptop laid across her lap. She's frowning and furiously typing. There's something very sexy about watching her work. Her brow is creased, she's concentrating on whatever it is she's reading. It's an incredible turn on. When she hears me, she looks up, pauses then closes the laptop. I sit down next to her on the bed.
"Are you done working?" I nuzzle in the crook of her neck. She jerks her head away. Playing hard to get? I'm up for the task.
"No. I'm not done yet. I'll go in another room. I don't want to keep you up."
Her statement is the equivalent of a giant bucket of ice water thrown on me.
"You've been attached to that laptop a lot lately. Is there something going on at Grey Publishing you want to talk about?" She complains about my late nights working and here she is doing the same.
"No, just the usual. Nothing special. I won't be long" She unwraps herself from the blankets and climbs out of bed. "In case you're asleep when I get back. Good night. I love you." She swiftly kisses my forehead, her lips barely touching my skin.
"I love you too. Don't be too long. You need your sleep."
"I won't." She quickly leaves the room, with her laptop tucked under her arm.
~o0o~
I'm lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. I don't like to sleep alone, especially when my wife is in the other room. I turn to my side and grab the alarm clock. It's half past midnight. Where the fuck is she?
I get out of bed and look for her. She's sitting on the couch, with a dimly lit table lamp next to her and the laptop open on her lap. I hear her sniffling and know she's been crying again. I rush over to her.
"Baby, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." She mutters, her voice cracking.
"Ana. I want to help. You know I hate to see you cry."
"I'm fine Christian. Please, just go back to bed. I'll be there soon." She tries to wave me off.
"I'm not going back to bed until you tell me what has you so upset. You insist it's not your hormones. Tell me."
'I…I was just reading a story. I'm fine."
"For work?"
She pauses.
"Yes…for work." She nods.
"It must be some story to affect you like this. Is this one of your authors?"
She sighs and closes her laptop.
"I'm tired. Let's just go to bed." She stands and we walk, arm in arm, to our bedroom.
~o0o~
This is the third straight day Ana has taken her laptop and left me sleeping alone. I'm getting fucking tired of this new routine. I roll out of bed and go out to find her.
I stand at the entrance to our dining room watching her. She is furiously typing. She looks angry. Very angry.
It's sexy as fuck.
I know the perfect way to channel some of that anger. I quietly walk over to her.
"Hey baby." I whisper.
Her eyes widen and her body stiffens.
"Oh, I... I didn't hear you come in." She stutters then quickly closes her laptop.
"Is there something there you don't want me to see?"
"No, why would you say that?" She shifts in her seat, darting glances between me and her computer.
"You closed your laptop as soon as you saw me."
"Don't be ridiculous Christian. I was finished with my work."
"You seem a little jumpy." I frown.
"You surprised me, that's all," she assures me.
"Are you sure you're not hiding something from me?"
"What could I possible have to hide? Honestly Christian. Your imagination is getting the better of you."
I rub the back of my neck and stare at her, narrowing my eyes, trying to read what is going on in that beautiful mind of hers. She narrows her eyes back at me with a hint of amusement. She's perfected her poker face, something she picked up from me, no doubt. I can still see little cracks, telltale signs she's holding something back.
"I know there's something Mrs. Grey. I won't rest until I get it out of you. Come. Bed."
"You think you're going to fuck an imaginary confession out of me?"
"I'm willing to give it a shot." I hold out my hand. She places her hand in mine and I pull her out of the chair, looking very amused.
"Okay Mr. Grey," she laughs. "Give it your best shot. Let's see you fuck a confession out of me."
"You don't think I can?"
"Oh, I've learned never to doubt the sexpertise of my loving husband." She tries to hide her smirk by biting her lip.
"After you, Anastasia." I extend my hand out. Ana walks in front of me and I swat her ass.
"Ouch," she jumps.
"Get ready, baby."
~o0o~
It's Sunday morning. Although I never managed to get the confession I was looking for last night, I had a hell of a good time trying. I stretch my arm across the bed to feel for Ana. I pat the bed a few times, only to discover she's gone.
Ana is awake before me? This is a rarity. So much for my plan for morning sex. I've never had a problem convincing her to come back to bed. It's time to find the delectable Mrs. Grey. The Master of the Manor needs some attention.
I walk into the kitchen, expecting to find Ana preparing breakfast. Instead, she's sitting on a barstool at the breakfast bar in her short silk robe, with her laptop opened, furiously pounding down on the keys. I don't know who she is writing to, but she looks angry again. Very, very angry.
Another day, Another Ana.
I'm not one to turn away from a challenge. In fact, this particular challenge turns me on. Angry Ana in bed is fucking hot, really fucking hot. I sneak up behind her, wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her neck.
"Good Morning, baby." I murmur softly in her ear, lightly nibbling on her lobe.
She stiffens and immediately closes her laptop. Good, she's game.
"Not now, Christian." She squirms on the barstool.
"You look stressed. Let me relieve some of that tension." I place my hand on her leg, delicately brushing my fingertips up the soft skin of her inner thigh.
"Not now." Looking very irritated, she grabs my hand to stop my playful assault.
"Are you sure, baby? I'm just trying to do my husbandly duty and take care of my wife."
"Yes, I'm sure. Your breakfast is on the counter." She answers flatly.
I look at the counter and there's a box of Cheerios and an empty bowl next to it. This is the third Sunday in a row that Ana hasn't made a proper breakfast. It doesn't bother me that she hasn't prepared breakfast for me, although fending for myself isn't something I particularly enjoy, but she loves cooking on the weekend. She always looks forward to it.
"No eggs or pancakes this morning?" I ask.
"If you want them, you can make them. Look, I have some…work to do. I'm going into the dining room to spread my stuff out." She hops off the barstool with that fucking laptop tucked under her arm and leaves. Baxter walks over to me and paws at my leg.
"Good morning Baxter. At least someone in this house wants me around."
I walk over to the refrigerator. Maybe Gail has something in here I can warm up. Cold cereal isn't doing it for me. Shit, nothing. I grab the container of milk for my Cheerios and walk back over to the barstool and sit, preparing my half-assed breakfast.
Baxter is sitting next to the stool, waiting for me to share my breakfast. I grab a few Cheerios that are still dry at the top of the bowl and hold out my hand to the dog.
"Here Baxter. Don't tell the Mistress I'm feeding you food from the table. She's in another one of her moods." As Baxter is licking the little oat circles out of the palm of my hand, I start to think about what she said this morning. She left the kitchen to spread out her stuff…what stuff? She had a laptop. No papers, no pens, no books. A fucking laptop.
There is something going on. She's hiding something from me. I'm tired of sitting back and waiting for things to even out. I don't give a fuck if I have to take that damn laptop out of her hand and look through it myself…and I don't care if she hates me for it. She'll get over it…someday.
~o0o~
I walk into the dining room ready to confront her once and for all. When I get there, Ana is slouching in the chair, vacantly staring at the keyboard. She looks so sad.
"Ana?" I quietly say. She doesn't respond. "Ana." I call again, this time a little louder.
"Yes?" She quickly straightens herself up.
I walk over to her and sit in the chair next to her. I reach across the table and hold her hand.
"Ana. Please tell me what's wrong. I want to help you. You've been so up and down lately, there are so many different scenarios playing in my head. My imagination is starting to get the better of me. I'm envisioning everything from Jack Hyde is back in town to you're having an affair. I know where that fucker Hyde is, so I know it's not that…And I would like to believe the other scenario isn't a real possibility."
"It isn't." She squeezes my hand and smiles.
"I have been trying to give you space and let you tell me in your own time, but I can't do this anymore. You need to talk to me about it."
She sighs, looking resigned.
"I don't want to tell you."
"Why?" I frown.
"I'm embarrassed. You'll make fun of me."
"Embarrassed? Ana, I know everything about you. Intimately. There are things about you that I know better than even you do."
She looks to the floor and blushes.
"You don't know everything. I've been doing something that I haven't told you about. I haven't told anyone."
"Is this something I need to be concerned about?"
"No."
"You're making me nervous, Ana. Tell me." She's actually scaring the shit out of me.
She hesitates, knotting her fingers. Whatever this is has her in a ball of nerves.
"I've been…" she stops speaking and stares at the ceiling.
"Just fucking say it already." I feel my patience wavering.
She closes her eyes and scrunches up her face.
"I've been writing fanfiction." She blurts out so fast, I'm lucky it registered.
"What?"
"Fanfiction. I'm a fanfiction author." She lets out a huge breath; the look of relief on her face is evident.
"What the fuck is a fanfiction?"
"I take the characters of a published book and create my own story based on them. The stories are online."
"You do this for work?"
"No. I do it for free. It has nothing to do with Grey Publishing."
"Then why are you doing it? This makes no sense." I scratch my head as I try to figure out what the fuck she's talking about.
"I needed an outlet."
"An outlet for what?"
"Angst," she shrugs.
"Angst? What the fuck has you angst up?"
"Other fanfiction stories."
Christ, this just keeps getting stranger and stranger.
"Can you elaborate, Ana? I don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about."
"There's this trilogy called Sixty Ways of Shay. It's very popular. Have you heard of it?"
I found Ana's secret stash of that book series hidden under our bed weeks ago. I never told her, because they were making her horny as hell and I was reaping the benefits.
"No, I never heard of them." I lie.
"It's a trilogy about a wealthy, yet dark multimillionaire, Julian Shay, who meets an innocent recent college graduate, Francesca White."
"How innocent is she?"
"She was twenty one, almost twenty two. She had no sexual experience at all, none… she lost her virginity to him and eventually they fall in love."
"Who would believe that a college girl that's almost twenty two years old had no sexual experience at all, let alone she's a virgin?" I ask.
She smirks at me, lifting her brow.
"Forget I said that. Go on."
"The three books were called Sixty Ways of Shay; the sequels were Deeper and Rebirth. Each book was a different place in their relationship. The love story was just beautiful. It took me in like nothing else I've read. I'm embarrassed to admit, I reread the books several time," she explains.
'You're the CEO for a very successful Publishing House writing fanfiction stories, for free, crying all the time over this...whatever the fuck it is…and what embarrasses you is that you've read the books a few times?" I shake my head. "Is this fanfiction the reason behind your ever-changing moods lately?"
"Yes. I'm sorry; I know I've been a little out there."
A little? She's been waaaay out there.
"It's just some stories crush my heart. He does awful, awful things."
"The stories in the book?" I ask.
"No, the fanfiction stories."
I'm so fucking confused.
"Why do you read stories that upset you?"
"I'm a masochist," she mumbles.
"A masochist? Since when?" I laugh.
"I married you, didn't I?" she teases. "I don't know what to say. I know this doesn't make any logical sense. It's like a car wreck, you don't want to look, but you can't stop yourself. That's been my relationship with these stories," she explains. "There's this one story where JS cheats on Francesca."
"Who the fuck is JS?" I ask.
"Julian Shay. The diehard fans refer to him by his initials."
"Why?"
"I have no idea, we just do. Anyway, the bastard cheated on her and she spiraled into a terrible depression."
"HmmMmm." I nod. I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about, I figure it's best to humor her and go along with whatever the hell she's saying.
"Poor girl was destroyed. She started training for a marathon; you know, to build up her self esteem."
"Seems like a reasonable solution."
"Yes, well she has to be the slowest runner in the history of running, because she's been running the same damn race for months."
I sit back in my chair and surrender to my fate. I know this look in Ana's eyes. She is going to talk, talk, talk, talk and talk. I can't complain. This is what I asked for. Little did I know once I got her to confess what was bothering her, it would be like a fucking dam burst of one story after another. I have absolutely no idea what she's talking about but I know, once she gets going, there's no closing her down.
"There's another story that nicknamed Julian's manhood," she's laughing as the words are coming out of her mouth.
"HmmMmm" I feign interest.
"Don't you want to know the nickname?" she asks, her brow lifting.
I've been married long enough to know this is Ana's way of telling me that she wants me to know the nickname, whether I really do or not doesn't really matter to her.
"I'm on pins and needles." I roll my eyes.
"Thor," she bursts out laughing.
"Thor?"
"Yup, Thor," she giggles.
I nod. I was looking forward to fucking my wife this morning; instead I have to sit here and listen to stories about a guy with a dick named Thor. I'm in hell.
"What are you doing?" I ask as I watch her clicking through something on her laptop screen.
"I'm looking at my favorites list. I'm giving you some highlights."
Lucky me.
"How many stories are on this list?" I ask.
"I follow about thirty but there are probably a thousand stories. There was a time when a bunch of authors had some strange obsession with goats. Goats were popping up in stories everywhere. But that seems to have subsided."
"Well, let's thank God for that." I answer sarcastically.
I hope she doesn't plan on giving me the play by play of all thirty of these so-called stories…maybe I should fake a heart attack.
"There was another story where JS got a blowjob in an elevator. The picture was splashed all over the news. His poor wife was humiliated. Oh Christian, it was awful. So much hurt."
"I can see that being humiliating, but they were married."
"It wasn't his wife giving him the blow job. And he had some sort of 'relationship' with the elevator whore."
"Yes, I can see that being a problem" I nod.
"You think?" she asks sarcastically. "Well, anyway. The wife kicked him to the curb. She had a relationship with a hot athlete, even had sex with him."
"How did this JS feel about that?" I really need to stop asking questions.
"Less than thrilled. He was seeing his therapist trying to work through his issues to win her back. Oh, did I mention, she was pregnant too? That's a long story…Want to hear it?"
God No.
"Maybe another time." I lie.
"Okay. It all ended up to all be a dream. He never really cheated on her. It was her pregnancy that must have made her crazy. You know how baby brain can make you imagine the craziest things."
I have no idea what she's talking about, but I don't want to pursue this conversation. I just nod in agreement.
"Oh wait, here's another. Shelby's Wedding."
"Who the fuck is Shelby?"
"Julian and Francesca's daughter. It takes place about twenty years later."
I really should have listened to Flynn when he suggested that I practice Transcendental Meditation. I could have zoned out this entire conversation and she never would have known.
"So what did Julian do this time? Get drunk at the wedding?" I ask.
"No, he wasn't invited. The asshole had an affair with Shelby's best friend. She was twenty two, he was fifty three. It made me ill."
"No respectable man would do such a thing."
"Well, that was the last straw for Francesca. She kicked him out. The daughter uninvited him to her wedding. And Francesca got some action from her much younger hot therapist."
Baxter walks in and as usual, is pawing at me. Absentmindedly, I pet him as Ana tells me more and more about this secret life she's been living right under my nose.
"Ana, I'm trying to understand something. Why are you reading stories that have obviously upset you? Aren't there any stories that are happy, feel good stories?"
"There was one that I was reading. It was called Late Night Reflections. It was a bunch of short stories; it takes place many years into their marriage. They're happily married. Never cheated. They were always madly in love with each other. You know a little sweet and sappy. We nicknamed it "The Happy Place."
"We?"
"The readers who followed the story."
Oh, this is a strange little world my wife has got herself into.
"If you must read these….stories…Why don't you stick with that? It seems safe. Nothing that might upset you, like those other stories have."
"You would think so," she huffs.
"Christ, don't tell me. He cheats on her there too?" Does this guy ever sleep?
"No, he never cheats. They are in love in every chapter," she says.
"So what's the issue?"
"Julian is a very guarded man. She gave him a dog and it softened him up. It was really quite lovely, much like you and Baxter." She looks over at Baxter; his head is resting on my knee and she smiles.
"So what's the problem?" I ask.
She looks side to side and squirms in her seat.
"She killed the dog," she whispers.
I instantly put my hands over Baxter's ears. He shouldn't hear this drivel.
"What kind of author would kill an innocent dog?"
"A bitch," she states flatly.
"I agree." I shudder at the thought. "Why don't you find a different published book to read, instead of those fanfictions?"
"I tried but I couldn't" she says.
"Why not?"
"Well, there was a series called Crosswire. In it, Gavin Cross has a complicated relationship with Ava Drummel. I couldn't get into it. I didn't like what he called her …Lady parts."
"What did he call her…Lady parts, as you so elegantly labeled them."
"Gredd Mmmmm" she mumbles.
"What did you say? I couldn't understand you." I ask.
"Greedy cunt. Okay? I didn't care for that at all." She blurts.
I nod, desperate to hide my amusement.
"So I took matters into my own hands and I wrote my own fanfiction story."
"You do realize you're Anastasia Grey. CEO of a Publishing house." I state the obvious.
"Yes, Christian. I know who I am." She rolls her eyes. "I needed an outlet to offset all of those angsty stories. It was really messing with me. Some of the stories I read … They haunted me. I had to find an avenue to work it out. This was the only way I knew how."
"You could have fucked your husband." Simple.
"That's your solution to everything," she smrks.
"Why argue with what works?" I joke. "So, what do you write?"
"Julian and Francesca are married for twenty years. They have a few bumps, but they always love each other. There's no cheating and no dogs die."
"What do you call it?" I ask.
"Nighttime Thoughts."
"Interesting title."
"Thanks. I thought so." She smiles.
"So, has this writing helped you?"
"Mostly yes. Occasionally I get a guest reviewer who tells me if I don't do something they're done with my story."
I have no idea what a 'guest reviewer' is and I don't care. I'm just leaving it.
"This shit…err…writing can't be traced back to us, can it? I don't want the press to find out about my wife's secret hobby."
"I don't use my real name, if that's what you're asking. I have a Pen name."
"Well?" This ought to be interesting.
"Forever More. It makes me think of us."
"It's lovely" I take her hand and softly kiss the back of it.
~o0o~
It's three days since Ana's confession. She seems to be happier since her big revelation. Although every night our dinner conversation has been one long dialogue of Ana telling me about this story or that story she read. The woman reads manuscripts of world renowned authors all day, yet she's obsessed with this. Women, a fucking mystery. But I'm biting my lip, hoping that soon the novelty will wear off and we can have our old life back.
I walk into our bedroom and Ana is sitting on the bed, with the laptop once again attached to her. I sit next to her, moving her hair over to one side, so I have direct access to her beautiful skin.
"Baby, I need you tonight." I whisper in her ear.
She stops what she's doing, slams the laptop shut and scowls at me.
"Do you?" she asks angrily.
"Yes, I'm desperate to be inside of you." I murmur, my fingers lightly running through her hair.
"HmmMmm" She skeptically hums. If I didn't know better, I'd think she was mad at me.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing." She barks.
"What are you angry about?"
"Who said I was angry?"
"Ana, we're married for twenty years. I think I know when you're angry. Tell me."
"Do you know anyone named Lucy?" she asks.
"Lucy? No, I can't think of anyone." I shrug.
"Not from work, Claude's gym, anywhere?"
"I already told you. I do not know a Lucy."
"Good. Keep it that way," she grumbles.
"What the fuck is this about? Is this another one of those fucking stories you won't stop reading?"
"Maybe"
Maybe means yes in wife-speak.
"What the fuck did Lucy do?" I ask.
"First of all, I don't want that name uttered in our house. She is the person who shall not be named."
Maybe I should talk Flynn out of retirement.
"Fine. What did this person do? I'm guessing it was to your Julian and Francesca." What the hell else could it be?
"Julian and that slut had an affair. Not just sex, an affair. Poor Francesca found out from a security tape."
"Did she leave him?"
"Yes. And she moved away. He tried to win her back, but once they were on track to get back together, that L-slut kidnapped their son. She was in cahoots with an older ex lover of his, Helena," she snaps.
"Helena was a cougar, eh?" I joke.
"More like a bitter old hag. Eventually the truth was found out. L-slut went to jail. Helena got slapped in the face…classic! And Julian and Francesca worked out their differences and got back together."
"So why are you so angry now?"
"I just reread the story. It was fresh in my mind."
"Ana, you must stop doing this. You're driving yourself insane and that's driving me insane." I run my hand through my hair. She's driving me crazy and not in a good way.
"I know," she pouts.
"Tell me something… Why does this affect you so much? You know it's only a story. These aren't real people."
"I know, but they feel real to me," she says. "Don't look at me like that."
'Like what?" I ask.
"Like you think this is crazy."
"Are you telling me that you don't think this is crazy?"
"No," she answers flatly.
Christ, she's crazy.
She looks up at the ceiling. I can tell that she's searching to find a way to explain it to me that I would understand where she's coming from. Good luck with that, Mrs. Grey.
"I guess it hits a little close to home" She sighs.
"Why?"
"They fall in love, get married quickly, and have kids quickly. Despite so many bumps along the way, they manage to overcome them. Theirs was a love of a lifetime."
"You are the love of my lifetime."
"I know." she mouths, her eyes welling up with tears.
"If you know this, why are you so upset?"
"It's stupid." She fidgets with the blanket on the bed, avoiding eye contact with me.
"Nothing that upsets you is stupid." I lift up her chin with my index finger and look into her eyes.
She exhales a long breath.
"He gets bored and he cheats. That struck a nerve."
"Do you think I would ever cheat on you?" I ask.
"No." She smiles, placing her hand on top of mine.
"Good."
"But these things happen, couples break up. Men fall out of love with their wives or look for passion elsewhere." Her lip quivers.
"Yes, I suppose that's true. But it won't happen to us."
"How can you be sure? People change. One day you could wake up and…" She doesn't finish her thought.
"I know because I know. I've told you from the very beginning…I don't share. That means I don't share you and I don't share me. On a beautiful July day I made a vow to love, honor and be faithful, forsaking all others in front of family and friends. I'm a man of few words and every word I say, I mean. I don't want another woman. I have and only will ever love one... Anastasia Steele. It was always very simple to me. If I didn't want a commitment, I wouldn't have married. How do I know you will always feel the same about me?"
"Because I've put up with you for twenty years…who else could do that?" she grins.
"Fair point. You've put up with this ugly mug for the past twenty years." I squeeze my face between my thumb and index and grin.
"Yes, you are unfortunate looking." She deadpans.
"So we're stuck together. My heart is yours to break."
"I would never break your heart." She squeezes my hand.
"I know. But you keep reading those books with all the sex and I'm afraid you might just break something else."
"Too old to handle me?"
"Well, I'm willing to give it a shot until I drop."
"That's very gallant of you." She nods.
"I aim to please, baby."
"Is that so? How do you intend on pleasing me?"
"I have my ways." I grin. "Do you know how much I love you?"
"Most of the time." She bites her lip.
"Sounds like you need some convincing." I crawl to the bottom of our bed, lying between Ana's feet and take hold of Ana's right foot.
I look up at Ana, who is smiling, looking down at me.
"I love you because you make macaroni and cheese when you know I've had a crappy day." I kiss her big toe.
"I love you because you put maple syrup on your breakfast sausage." I kiss her second toe.
"You think syrup on sausage is disgusting," she squeaks.
"But I love that you love it."
She grins.
"I love that you roll your eyes at me." I lightly nip at her middle toe.
"You hate when I do that."
"Yes, but I love punishing you for it." I wiggle my eyebrows
"So do I," she laughs.
"I love that you're the mother of my children." I kiss her ring toe.
"That makes you love me?"
"Baby, that makes me worship you."
She stares up at the ceiling, with a very satisfied look on her face.
"I love that the sexiest woman I have ever met sleeps next to me every night." I kiss her pinky toe.
"Sexiest?" she asks.
"Oui, mon Amour. You are the sexiest woman to ever walk this earth."
I grab hold of her left foot.
"I love your honesty." I kiss her big toe.
"My honesty?"
"It cuts through the crap."
"I love you so much, I flew three thousand miles across the country, just so I could see you." I kiss her next toe.
"That was twenty years ago," she says.
"I'd do it again tomorrow."
"That's very sweet." She smiles, looking down at me, her eyes glowing with love.
"I love that you talk in your sleep." I kiss her middle toe.
"Is that how you spy on me, through my subconscious?"
"It's the doorway to your soul, baby."
"It's so unfair," she protests.
"I love that you defy me." I kiss her ring toe.
"You do not," she counters.
"It turns me on, you challenge me," I explain.
"We challenge each other," she adds.
"I love that you make me laugh." I nip at her pinky toe.
"Yes, but most of the laughs are at my expense."
I trail small kisses up her leg, across her stomach, lightly kissing between her breasts until I'm lying next to her and take her left hand.
"I love to fuck you." I kiss her thumb.
"Well, that was romantic." She rolls her eyes.
"It's the truth. The best feeling in the world is when I'm inside of you."
"That's sweet…I think," she says.
"I love to make love to you." I kiss her index finger.
"I'm glad you know the difference."
"Baby, I love you, even when I'm fucking you."
"That may be one of the rudest, sweetest things you've ever said and you've said a few doozies."
"I love your heart." I kiss her middle finger.
"My heart?"
"You're the kindest person I know."
"Thank you," she mouths.
"I love that you bring perpetual light into my life. I can't imagine living one day of my life without you." I kiss her wedding band.
"That was a lovely thing to say."
"Sliding this ring on your finger was the smartest decision I have ever made."
"Me too," she whispers.
"I love that you don't take my shit." I kiss her pinky.
"You hate that."
"Yes, but it turns me on."
"You get turned on a lot don't you?" she teases.
"Guilty as charged." I grin.
"You better only get turned on by me," she warns.
"Only you." I assure her.
"Good."
I take her right hand in mine.
"I love that you love me for who I am. The good and the bad." I kiss her thumb.
"I never stood a chance. I felt the magic of Christian Grey from the first time we touched in your office."
"Me too, baby."
She brushes the hair off my forehead with her free hand. I feel the charge between us.
"I love how I feel when I'm with you." I kiss her index finger.
"How do you feel?" she asks.
"Loved, Cherished. Whole."
"I feel the same, you know," she whispers.
"I do," I answer.
She cocks her head and warmly smiles.
"I love my wife." I kiss her middle finger.
"I love my wife." I kiss her ring finger.
"I love my wife." I kiss her pinky.
"Hey, isn't that cheating?" she protests.
"It's the only cheating you'll ever get from me." I pull her in to an embrace and hold her tight. She looks into my eyes and I know despite all her crazy, I will adore this beautiful woman every single day of my life.
"I love you Christian." Her hand gently caresses my cheek.
"I love you too, baby."
Reviews are always appreciated.
I'd like to thank the talented fanfiction authors who have a great sense of humor and graciously gave me permission to play around with their stories: Marpuri, GreytoSteele, LizLemomnumber2, Carmelroads and WordRunner.