Chapter One

"The greatest gift is just to love and be loved in return" The midget bellows as he falls from the ceiling and instantly falls asleep.

I turn the film off, its cheery hopefulness not remotely penetrating my brooding depression. It's Saturday evening and the rest of Seattle is out living life and enjoying the warm weather. My weekends were reserved entirely for him; this new found freedom is devastatingly lonely. I am his and his alone. Without him I don't exist and that realisation knocks me sick to my stomach. I am nothing. It is not meant to be like this, I am a strong woman, and I have friends and family who love me. "You had friends" my subconscious reprimands. Part of our agreement was that I would give up my entire weekends for him and after that first interview to discuss soft and hard limits I was lost. I didn't hesitate to agree to everything he demanded; I didn't even raise my hard limits. Looking into his gleaming grey eyes as we discussed "equipment" I was sure I could convince him in time to relent on some of the contract conditions. More fool me.

When I signed the initial three month contract last fall, I was so excited. He was to be my second Dom and I was relishing the thought of something new. I had been Claude's submissive for over a year and although sad to end our agreement I was also looking forward to the change and Mr Grey was certainly that. Claude was by no means unattractive but Mr Grey was out of this world handsome. I couldn't wait to serve him.

Right from the start the set up was different with him. He was cold and distant even when we were not in role playing mode, not to mention the non disclosure agreement and the vetting by Mrs Lincoln. I still don't understand their friendship.

I pull myself up from the sofa and walk over to the table to check my phone, still nothing. I don't know why I am bothering to check, he hasn't called for the last four months, and he sure isn't going to call now. Unless this is a game, him making me wait and yearn for him, ahhhh blissful torture Sir. My inner Goddess takes a break from dabbing her eyes with a sopping tissue and a hopeful smile spreads across her face. My subconscious throws her hands up in despair and casts me an admonishing glare "get-a-grip-you-pathetic-bitch-where- is-your-self-respect?". She is right of course, I am being ridiculous, clinging onto any shred of hope that might mean I haven't lost him forever. Sometimes pretending takes the pain away but then the realisation of what I am doing makes me feel even more depressed.

I know it's not a game, I know that it's over. I am convinced he has another sub, I know him, and he needs his release. Why can't I be his release? I was a good submissive, I never once disobeyed him.I soothe myself with the thought that his next sub will be out on her arse soon enough and remind myself that he is a fucked up megalomaniac and will never change. His dismissal of me is about him and not me. I relish the thought of him realising what he has lost in me one day but by then it will be too late. I will have moved on. Christian Grey will regret the day he got Taylor to do his dirty work. Fucking Taylor, I hope he rots in hell. This small thought makes me smile, yes one day, you will want me. Please want me.

I go to collect the newspaper from where it has been lay since this morning and as I do I am more than aware that I have let myself go over these last few months, my hair is lank and in desperate need of a good wash. When did I last eat? As I lean down to pick up the paper I get a whiff of my body odour. I resolve to definitely shower tomorrow. Well, there is no point in doing it tonight.

The breath catches in my throat as I take in the eyes staring back at me. Sir. Master. Mr Grey. It's you. I can't move. I can't take my eyes off him. The pain is as fresh as that Friday night, nothing has changed. A knife through my heart would be surely less painful.

Wait what the fuck. Who is that stood with him? The caption below the photo "Mr Christian Grey and friend Miss Anastasia Steele". Friend my ass, I know that look in her eyes, she has it bad. Buta date. Outside of his apartment and to be so publically photographed. Something isn't right. This isn't the Sir that I know. His stance is different, he looks …..Comfortable.