Author's Note posted below.
Chapter 3
Fate
Christian
My father's a firm believer of fate. He believes that the world and time has something to do with how two find each other out of millions.
I am a lot like my father but not in the sense that I believe that fate and love work hand in hand. I am like him in a way that in his late 20's he already runs his own business. In his case, he runs a law firm. Despite every victory he grasped, he still isn't happy. He was getting depressed because people only loved him because of his money and he's all alone. It came to the point that he thought of committing suicide. He was firm with that until one fateful day.
He decided to eat in his favourite Italian restaurant and as he sat down, he noticed a book placed on the chair to his right. He opened the book and there was a handwritten note in faded blank ink saying, "Just live and live and live".
Carrick thought of it and then somehow he chose to live life. He came to realize a lot of things: despite being alone he was appreciated and that as long as you live the story never ends and there are plot twists.
That plot twist was my mother whom he had met in one of those fancy parties six months later.
I ask him, "What made you think it was fate?"
He answered, "She's the owner of the book that saved my life."
My phone rings interrupting my thoughts.
"Grey," I snap.
"Whoa, brother! What gives?"
"I am about to meet a client in fifteen minutes, Elliott. I don't have time to talk to you."
"We're already talking."
"Elliott, I know why you're calling. I can't go clubbing tonight, okay? I have a lot of things do especially since I'll be on a business trip in two days."
"Come on! Christian, I've invited hot girls! You got to meet Jane. Her legs? I could stare at them until I die."
"Then do so. Alone."
"Christian, come on!"
"I said no, Elliott. See you some other time, my brother." With that I press the red button ending the call. I try to focus on the computer screen scanning through the proposals and current status of the company. But after five minutes, I stop. There's no use since Ana was the storm that clouded my vision.
She spilled her orange juice on me and I was about to get angry but that's until I get to look at those beautiful eyes. Have you ever lied down a field and stared at the blue blue sky thinking of all the possibilities? That's what I felt the first time I saw her. It was like thinking about your future before you go to sleep.
Then she accidentally touched my crotch and as a man, I felt a hard-on but what charmed me was her bashful reaction. She was as red as a rose. Her middle name suits her.
However the attraction turned into something deeper when I got to know her—rather, a glimpse of her.
In the interview, she told me all about her history and how despite everything she still remains positive. Her presence could ignite an entire world living in black and white colors. She told me about her dreams and kindness and how life could be beautiful despite everything.
There is more to her than meets the eye. She's not a blurb—she's an entire book and I want to know her page by page. I want to hear from her before I go to sleep and I want to inhale her scent just to make sure it's real.
That's it, I'm whipped.
My phone rings again and I am too annoyed, "Elliott, I told that I am not interested in fucking someone tonight."
"Goodness gracious! Christian, your language!"
Shit! It's my mother. She sounds very disgusted of me.
"Mom, I am really sorry. Elliott called me not too long ago and I thought he was you."
"Christian, what's happening to your brother? Is he doing those one night stand trend? Is that how you call it? He should stop it!"
I cannot second the motion since I too am guilty of the unfamiliar words she claims as, "one night stand". Yes, I'm single but I do have needs. Then suddenly the idea of sleeping with some random girl becomes wrong. When I think of Ana, the thought me with me with somebody else becomes wrong, and I don't think it's healthy since I have just met Ana.
Mom breathes deeply and dramatically expresses, "My dream was too real, Christian. I wanted it to be real."
"What dream?"
"I was playing with your son by the meadow."
"Mom, do we have to go through this again?"
"Son, I am not getting younger and neither are my kids. I miss having someone so small and innocent to take care of. I was hoping you'd tell me something?"
"Tell you something like?"
"You're getting married or you want to have a family."
I smile without humor, "Mom, what? You're sounding crazy."
"Christian, I think that my dream is somehow a sign?"
The thing about my parents is that they think that the universe has something to do with everything. Having Carrick and Grace as parents is like having two people talk about the future depending on the zodiacs.
"Mom, you should ask Elliott or Mia about this."
"Elliott can't stay with one woman and Mia's scared of commitment."
"I am both, Mom."
She sighs.
I can sense that she's giving up but she expresses, "Christian, I know you're twenty seven and you are no longer the boy I cradle to sleep but it doesn't mean that I don't have to tell you this: your life's a book and somewhere along the story you get to meet your plot twist. I believe in fate, Christian."
Mom ends the call and I go back to another day.
And after all the things I'm doing, Ana finds a way to shoot across my mind.
ooOoo
As soon as I met Ana I immediately hired a private investigator just to check on her background and I even gained photos of her routine in her daily life. It's the first time I've ever done this to a girl. I've never been a stalker type but Ana just has that way of attracting me like magnet. I need to know her.
I need to have her.
"Where to, Mr. Grey?" Taylor asks as soon as I get inside my Volvo.
"Can we go to Sweepsdale Building?" I plan to take things slow but I feel the need to see her now.
"Okay," Taylor complies.
Sooner than later we arrive in front of the poorly painted building. It looks almost as old my grandmother and my heart twinges. Ana deserves so much more than this. Right here on this spot I promise to myself that I will give her everything the world has to offer.
I enter and knock on 4B.
The broken door swings open and I'm immediately stunned. It's Ana.
"Mr. Grey," she mirrors my expression.
I don't speak a single world. My eyes focus on the apartment and how roaches are seen. The walls need to be repaired and the furniture is not complete. They don't even have TV.
"What are you doing here?" She's still shocked.
"Ana, who's that?" Her mother asks and she appears a few meters behind her. I give her a smile—the kind of smile given by a friend reunited with an old friend. She drops the plate she's holding and shock envelopes her.
"Mom, what's wrong?" Ana rushes by her mother's side.
"It's him, Ana! It's him!"
Ana stares in shock and all I do is smirk and raise my brow, "May I invite myself inside?"
ooOoo
Fifteen years ago…
"How was the movie?" Dad asks. We are sitting down the backseat of the car with our personal chauffer driving for us.
"I thought it was okay."
"It wasn't that impressive, huh?"
"I am not a big fan of romance movies."
He chuckles, "Me neither."
"Then why did we watch it?"
"Because rule number one of being married: your wife decides first."
"Hey!" Mom who sits right next to him smacks him playfully. At the age of twelve, I cannot be blind about the fact that the two of them are so in love.
Mom then asks me, "So who's making your heart beat fast these days, son?"
"No one," I am not interested in romance at all.
Dad and Mom keep on making fun of me while I just stare outside the window. It seems like a normal night until I see a mother and her daughter sleeping outside in the cold. I've grown up with so much privilege and it tugs me knowing that not everyone gets to live the life I have.
With no second thoughts I instruct, "Pull over."
Mom freaks out, "What? Christian, what? Hey—"
"Let him be," Dad calms her down as I get out of the car.
I think of the quilt I always put inside my backpack just in case I sleepover my friend's house. It's nothing special, just old and plain really but it's given by my grandmother when I was just five. It kept me asleep most nights and scare off the nightmares, but I am twelve now and I understand that some people need it more than I do.
I get out of the car and walk towards the mother and her daughter.
The ache in my heart feels twice more painful now. She's holding her daughter tightly just so she could sleep. She's clearly shaking, shoulders moving up and down and breath seemingly rugged. Without second thoughts, I spread the quilt and wrapped it around the two of them.
Then the mother looks at me with a grateful expression. Tears form in her eyes, "Thank you so much. Thank you."
I don't say anything. I grab my wallet and hand five hundred dollars to her.
Her eyes widen, "No, no, it's too much."
"How long have you been sleeping in the streets, Ma'am?"
"Ma'am? How can you address me that?"
I furrow my brows, "What?"
"No one's ever called me Ma'am before."
"It's a shame, Ma'am. I don't know if I should be happy that I am the first."
She sniffles and I smile just to lessen the tension.
"So how long have you been sleeping outside?" I ask for the second time.
"Three days"
"Then take this and find some place to say."
She's sobbing now, "Thank you".
She takes the five hundred dollar bill from my hand and kisses her daughter's head. She's sound asleep and her brown hair forbids me to see her face. I brush my finger through the child's hair and gratitude consumes me as I think of how happy this girl can be when she wakes up.
The mother cries while chanting, "thank you" over and over again.
The thing about helping someone is that you too who is the helper feels an immense amount of gratitude.
Wordlessly I turn my back and head inside the car. My mother and father are looking so proud of me and even my mother sheds a tear.
"I am proud of you, son."
I don't say anything.
Dad adds, "You've made the poor mother so happy. You've made your Nana happy. Her quilt was used as an act of random yet sincere kindness. I am so proud of you."
I reply, "I hope the little girl will be happy when she wakes up."
Mom assures, "She will be, Christian. One simple act of kindness lasts forever. That mother and her daughter? They'll remember it forever."
I glance at the two of them for the last time before the car's engine starts.
Mom then tells me, "When you meet again it'll be a phenomenal moment."
I don't think of the surreal but I still ask, "Do you think we'll meet again?"
Dad then says, "No one knows but if you do then it's fate."
Yes, you are correct! He was the one who helped them.
Thank you for the reviews and oh! Another change I forgot to mention:
1. He's not adopted
2. No mention of child abuse (on Christian's story)
3. No scars on his chest
4. He's the career man type of CEO in the story
I hope it's okay with you though.
Thanks for the follow.
Please . . . reviews are very appreciated. I look forward hearing from you.
Margo
