Author's Note: First off, thank you so much for the heartfelt reviews! It really means a lot to hear that people enjoy my writing and to see how many follows this story has gotten.

This is a relatively short chapter. The bigger battle royale is next. And yes, to reiterate, they have a serious rift in their marriage that they need to resolve, but there will be a HEA and no cheating. In the books, Christian was already established professionally so I think he had the luxury to make time for Ana. In this version, he was building his career up, so that changes the dynamics.

And I'm sure there will be plenty of Ana haters or Christian haters (especially for the next chapter) and I appreciate all your feedback, but just to give you a backstory — my goal in writing this is that they are both right and both wrong, the way it usually is in most relationships. They're both misguided but well-meaning.

As a guest reviewer so aptly put it, both their filters are broken. They lack good communication skills but we all do in some way. So don't get too frustrated with them (or me!). Remember, that it will be less than a week from start to finish of their communication breakdown, which isn't that tragic. Plus, if there wasn't drama, what would I have to write about?! Enjoy :)

Christian spent the rest of the evening replaying the night's disastrous events until he finally gave up and headed to bed himself. His sleeping wife had scooted as far away as possible from Christian's side so that their king-size bed looked practically empty — save for the tiny blanket-covered lump huddled on the very edge. Never one to take the hint, Christian simply migrated all the way over to Ana's side, wrapping his arms around her tightly to ensure she wouldn't fall off the bed.

A few hours later, the incessant buzzing of his Blackberry jarred him awake. Groggily, he scrolled through the litany of urgent emails from Ros informing him that a group of Hong Kong investors was threatening to bail out and derail the port acquisition he'd spent months hammering out.

"Motherfuckers," he cursed under his breath so as not to wake Ana, referring to both the investors and his employees. "Can't they for once in their worthless lives handle shit on their own?"

He eased his hold on his wife, reverentially stroking her cheek. Christian took a moment to watch the steady rise and fall of her chest, the soothing rhythm almost lulling him back to sleep. I love you so much baby. Why can't you just realize that? He kissed her temple, inhaling her scent, before reluctantly flinging the covers off of him.

Two hours later, Ana stretched out her limbs, her hand bumping up against the piece of paper that Christian had left for her. She lifted herself up and read his note:

Ana, I'm sorry I didn't want to leave you this morning but I got called into the office on urgent business. Can we talk about last night later? I hope you have a good day at work. I love you, with all my heart.

When isn't it urgent? Ana sighed, wrapping her arms around her knees and idly rocking back and forth. She looked through the window at the bleary Seattle skyline, which matched her mood. Enough wallowing Ana. You have a job to do — literally — and it's only your second day at it, so pull yourself together. Stop pouting or you'll become known as the office Debbie Downer.

She took a fortifying breath and rummaged through her closet for the most sophisticated, eye-catching outfit she could find — guided by the motto "fake it till you make it."

Christian mirrored Ana's agitated state, although unlike her, he was a wreck both inside and out. His eyes were puffy and his unruly hair flew in every direction as he issued a barrage of commands while simultaneously wracking his brain for ways to get back into his wife's good graces.

All morning, he had paid close attention to Stacie's interaction with him. They exchanged some witty banter but otherwise she was the picture of professionalism.

Christian, however, was the picture of a tyrannical boss as he reamed one unsuspecting victim after another, his rancid mood leaving no casualties in its wake. He had just finished eviscerating the department heads for dropping the ball on the Chinese deal and was now out for blood with the rest of the staff.

"Andrea, where are the schematics from the Shanghai Port Authority?" he demanded. The sooner I can tie up these loose ends, the quicker I can fix the bigger mess waiting for me at home. "And Stacie quit dawdling. I want that financial risk assessment on my desk ASAP."

"Yes sir," she replied, demurely but calculatingly bending over Andrea's desk to retrieve some files.

Christian eyed Stacie's long legs and svelte figure with the detached admiration he reserved for all beautiful women, which to him were like works of art — to be appreciated from afar. The moment he'd met Ana, Christian embraced the motto adopted by men and museums the world over: Look but don't touch. And if you look, don't get caught.

I'm a red-blooded male. I won't deny that she's attractive and I like her. But I love Ana and I'd never tarnish that love by cheating on her or acting inappropriately. Can't my wife see the effect she has on me, how much I crave her constantly? Fuck, just thinking about her is giving me an inconvenient hard-on. She has to know how I feel about her.

But then Christian recalled Ana's panged expression when he callously threw Stacie in her face, resurrecting her latent insecurities. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like if the roles were reversed and she had to work this closely with Mike. He tried to banish the thought, though it haunted him.

Christian waged an internal war with himself. On the one hand, he wanted to evict Mike and Stacie from their lives to save them both the inevitable hassle. On the other hand, he wanted to have faith that their marriage was strong enough to withstand the occasional good-looking coworker.

I'd sooner die before I hurt Ana, but do I fire Stacie just to placate her? I won't ever risk my marriage but what kind of precedent would that set? Stacie is intelligent and she's never crossed any boundaries with me. I refuse to persecute her for Ana's paranoia. I'll just limit my contact with her and keep my guard up. And I'll give Ana some leeway with Mike — an inch, for now.

Satisfied he'd reached a compromise, Christian whipped out his phone to text Ana. He wanted this slugfest to be over and, going against his usual track record of obstinacy, he wasn't about to prolong their mutual misery. Besides, the Stacie-Mike brawl is just a prelude to the bigger battle looming ahead: confronting Ana about what she revealed to Kate. But one showdown at a time Grey.

I know you said you didn't want me stopping by your office, but we need to discuss our argument. I'll pick you up for lunch at 1 because I have a conference call in the evening and may be in the office late. I look forward to seeing you.

Ana took a break from researching the top chicklit authors on social media when she heard her Blackberry ping. Instead of being glad that Christian had made the first move, Ana was exasperated. He's probably come to some resolution on his own and wants to let me in on it — or rather steamroll me into accepting it. And why does he expect me to accommodate his schedule? My lunch hour isn't even at 1; it's at noon. Presumptuous ass.

Christian, my lunch hour isn't even at that time. Please, I need to concentrate on my job without any distractions. Can you just let me get through my first week in peace — please.

"What the fuck!" Christian exclaimed to himself, livid that Ana had rebuffed his peace offering.

So what are you going to do? Not talk to me for the whole week?!

Of course not, but can you at least give me one day? Let's not act like you don't shut me out for much longer than that when you're mad.

It was a low blow, but Ana was still smarting from Christian's silent treatment last month when she dared to have a spontaneous coffee with Jose. Between that and late nights barricading himself in his study, Christian had avoided her for six days straight. But all of a sudden one day is too much for him?

Still, Ana wasn't about to resort to the kind of truculence that Christian thrived on, so she decided to extend him an olive branch.

Sorry. I'm just frazzled. Let's talk this evening. What time will you be home? I'm happy to wait up.

Don't bother. I'll be home late.

And there's the juvenile jackass I know and love. Ana tossed her Blackberry on her desk in an exaggerated fashion.

"Anything wrong?" Hannah asked, eyeing her curiously.

"No," Ana replied, plastering a fake smile on her face before resuming her work. "Just the usual crap."