Nah, I don't own anything remotely related to Fifty Shades.
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Chapter II
I've been standing on this pavement for as long as I could remember. The street is empty and so are similar-looking boxy houses on the side with their doors ajar. Green leaves fall from the trees, but upon reaching the ground, they turn brown. The only sound I could hear is the hissing sound of the wind. I grip my jacket tighter as the coldness of the air seeps in.
I keep walking, and walking, and walking but everything still looks the same, so I go on...
In my periphery I see him! I see a little boy running towards one of the houses to my left. I chase after him but he stops in front of the door. He looks back at me, making me stop dead in my tracks.
He is one skinny, pale boy with the saddest eyes I've ever seen. His hair is a coppery mess, and it frames a face with bruises all over. "Don't come near me," he pleads.
"Let me help you," I tell him. I move closer to the boy and he suddenly falls on the floor, kneeling.
"Don't come near me!" He pleads again, this time, tears trickle his eyes.
"Share the load. Let me help you," I say sincerely. I smile at him, offering him a hand.
This time he looks up, now smirking at me with mirth in his eyes and furrowed brows. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Now it feels wrong. The boy that look so pained now has a nefarious look on his face. I suddenly feel weak to my knees, as if something heavy just hit me on the back and sapping all the life out me.
"AHH!" I keep on screaming and screaming whilst I'm being beaten to the ground by an invisible force.
The boy stands up, but I can only see his feet as he hovers over me.
"Take it all!" The boy screams at me whilst I fall to the ground.
I find myself bawling and powerless, lying on the cold pavement, unable to move.
In the background, a baby's cry can be heard. A part of me says I should go the baby, but I can't even manage to mobilize any part of my body.
"Teddy?" The boy's voice says, automatically chilling every single bone in my body. My Teddy? No. No!
"No please. Please don't. Please don't harm him. I beg you please!" I say in between sobs.
"Ana, I will never hurt my own child," the boy says.
Christian. He is Christian. This boy is the ghost of my husband.
"But someone will Ana. Someone will."
NOOOOOO!
"So the nightmares are still there?" John Flynn asks as casually sips tea with his legs crossed, like a true English charlatan.
"Yes. But the ending changed." I feel the heat emanating from the tea cup and how comforting it actually is.
"Oh? And what do you make of this new ending, Anastasia?"
I look at John who eyes me intently. "That's why I'm here John. I want to make sense of the new ending. This contrite Christian, tell me about him." I take a sip of my tea, relaxing my mood.
He smiles, not taking his eyes off me as he fiddles the lid of his tea cup. "Are you here looking for guarantees, once again?"
"No. I'm here to ask you to make sense of these dreams," I say, rather irritatingly. I can't believe we're paying him a lot to dance around our issues.
"Ana, dreams are but reflections of the unconscious. Your unconscious. Your understanding of this contrite Christian you speak of."
"So my subconscious says Christian isn't the monster that he is?"
"Monster?" He raises an eyebrow and leans in, interested in what I have to say. "And all those years ago, we had worked to make him realize that he isn't one."
"He wasn't, John. He was and still is a good man. He's made awful choices. Choices he could never take back."
"Anastasia, you are confounding yourself. Your ambivalence is showing."
A pang of guilt hits me. But then, you have no excuse to hurt your wife, intentionally or not. A stream of warm tears fall from my cheeks. Damn you, Christian Grey.
"Is there going to be a divorce, Ana?" John questions.
I shake my head. "As of now, I haven't thought that far. A divorce would be messy for our personal lives and our career."
Everyone already knows we're separated. A husband moving thousands of miles away from his wife doesn't really signify a sound relationship. Christian's PR has already stated that we're working on it, and we have, at least twice, choreographed morning strolls to be intentionally shot by the paps.
What's keeping divorce far off our mind is Teddy. He's too young and frankly too smitten with his parents. When the news of separation broke, no one was hounded more than our three year old. When you see a dozen grown men trying to run after a helpless child, you immediately get chills. Thankfully, only one photo had ever been caught, and that was a PR masterstroke too.
Then there's the pre-nup issue. Honestly, Christian can keep his money. But knowing that buffoon, he'd be willing to give me half with no questions asked. No way will I take such a ludicrous amount.
"You haven't thought of it, but how about Christian?"
I hear myself audibly gasp. Has Christian told him anything? "Well, uhm.."
"Don't worry. It's the last thing on this mind." I can see a ghost of a smile on Flynn's face. Is he teasing me?
I wonder why I am immediately filled with relief, as if a part of me still wants Christian.
"Christian is an adult, John. He can do whatever he pleases."
"Oh, I don't doubt that." He chortles. "We've been skyping for a month. He said he talks to Teddy everyday."
"Everytime Ted comes home from school, actually. And of'course it ends with either of them crying." I've never skyped with Christian, but I can sometimes hear what they talk about.
"Can I be frank with you Ana?"
"Of'course," comes my immediate reply.
"This role reversal between you and Christian, doesn't it bother you?"
"I beg your pardon, John?"
"You're closed off. He's been apologetic and as you put it, 'contrite'."
I look down and see that I have been unconsciously knotting my fingers. I honestly don't know what to say. Have I really been closed off? Suddenly, feelings of confusion and apprehension take over me and I am left bereft and in tears.
For the first time in a long time, tears freely fall and there's nothing stopping them. My heart is crushing and my world has fallen apart. Everything I have known, and forced myself to know have crumbled.
I am a wreck.
I am a mess.
I am dirty and unworthy.
Christian has taken things from me and I couldn't take it back. I've papered over the cracks, but the dent and the crevices always seem to show.
"He hurt me John. He promised me he wouldn't hurt me and he did."
Flynn hands me a box of tissue and use one to wipe the unending tears. "I was scared of him. I was so scared of him." I blow my nose. "One time, I saw him standing over Teddy's crib and I was fearful for my son's life."
I look at John and see that tears are threatening his eyes too. It was a period of our lives that we didn't want to recall. He felt like he failed me and for a while, I thought he did.
"One day, it just stopped. One day he just came home a different man. I asked him why and he didn't answer. I asked him to hurt me like he did for weeks, and he didn't. He cried and begged for mercy." Despite being weak in the knees, I stand up. "I have a reason to be confounded and confused. I have a reason to be angry. He can't take away from dignity, trample on it like shit and beg the next. It doesn't work that way!" I know I've raised my voice and somehow the psychiatrist seems to be taken aback. "I have my pride and a child that depends on me. That is what remains of me."
I know I am sobbing, but this is a catharsis that I know I must endure. I feel John moving next to me, not as a psychiatrist and client, but from a friend to another. He takes my hand and tightly grasps it.
"I am sorry child. I am terribly sorry."
I can only look at him as the tears still fall like a fountain, constricting my voice. I fall back on the couch, but thankfully John catches me.
"Thank you for being honest with me," he says, as he silently walks away to this window, where the Seattle rain mercilessly lashes its wrath. "I'll see you soon." He doesn't even look back. I take it a sign for me to leave, and I do.
Outside, the downpour doesn't stop. Sawyer stands by the door with an umbrella in hand. He leads by to the car, but I don't think I am in the mood to leave just yet. "Escala, Luke," I say.
My CPO stares at me, flabbergasted and mouth gaping. "Mrs. Grey," he protests. I haven't been to Escala in almost a year, nor do I want to.
"Please," I say quietly.
He huffs. Sawyer is like an overprotective big brother to me, so I know he has my best interests at heart. Though the husband pays him, I know his loyalty is with me. Finally, he nods.
"Let's go..."
A/N: SHORT CHAPTER, I KNOW.
