Chapter 7 – Set Fire To The Rain

Wednesday, September 17, 2031
(continued)

Ana

I stand before him, flabbergasted.

How does he know?
Who told him?
Was it Taylor through Gail…or Luke?

And part of me feels betrayed that those two would even dare to squeal on me.

Okay – so I didn't really tell Gail or Luke not to say a word about Brie's broken ankle, but I've sort of alluded to it. I mentioned that Christian was quite overwhelmed with the marathon of meetings in Portland and that he didn't need to be worrying about Brie. Our baby girl was home safe and recovering from her sports injury. There's nothing that Christian could do here other than wait on Brie hand and foot, which is pretty much what everyone in the house has been doing anyway.

If it wasn't Gail or Luke who told, did Christian perhaps find a way to spy on us once he got away from his meeting late last night? Maybe he pulled up earlier recorded footage on his tablet and so happened to catch Beth pushing Brie into the house on a wheelchair. Hell…maybe that's it.

"How did you…"

And even in the darkness of the early, early morning, I witness the fiery glare in my husband's eye. It stops me cold in my tracks. I stand there, again – stunned silent. There's no way in hell that I'm going to be able to get out of this one unscathed. After what seemed to be a lifetime of eerie silence and tension – enough tension to cut through it with a butcher's cleaver – I decide to defend myself.

"Christian…I had everything all under control," I whisper. He scowls at me.

"We will discuss this later. I don't want to wake up the girls," he murmurs, enunciating each syllable so crisply that even one who's hearing impaired could not misinterpret him.

Screw this – I'm not going back to sleep. He's just going to sit there and watch the girls and me sleep, all while he concocts one hundred and one ways to make my life a living hell. He can't ever just let things go, especially when he's this upset with me.

Why didn't he just call before taking off to return home? Why did he feel the need to leave Portland so suddenly while negotiations were at such a volatile state? I need to know what caused him to possibly sacrifice the biggest deal out of the three that we were hoping to close this week.

"What happened with the deal?" I quietly ask.

"Fuck the deal, Ana. That's not important right now," he hisses.
Geez.

"What do you mean 'fuck the deal'?" I say in shock.
Just then, I hear our daughters stir in our bed.

Shit.

I quickly turn to my right and see only one of them shifting until she finally settles back down into a deep sleep.

"Shhh," Christian angrily vocalizes at me.

To hell with this. We need to talk outside of this bedroom. I need to explain to him why I didn't tell him about Brie, and he needs to explain to me why he potentially left his executive team high and dry in Portland.

"Christian…let's go. We need to talk."

"Go back to sleep. I don't want to talk right now."

"Why not?"

"Because. I'm mad at you."

I mean, obviously.
"Why are you mad at me?"

"You know why."

This is going nowhere. I'm scared, frustrated, tired… and I gotta go pee.

"Christian…I don't want you to be mad at me. I believe that I was doing the right thing. Everything is fine now. Brie had such a wonderful time tonight with her sisters and me. We had a blast. There was no cause for you…"

I trail off because he turns his head away from me.
He's having none of it.
My heart sinks.

Why is he so stubborn? Why won't he let me explain? It's like I'm talking to one of the children right now. Hell, maybe I should treat him like one of the children.

Without warning, I carefully sit on his lap and twist my body to face him. He stretches down to place his practically empty tumbler carefully onto the floor. When he rises back again, he still doesn't look at me. I reach for his face to turn it, but he grabs my hands before I can.

Oh no. It's like a slap to the face.

"Christian…we need to talk. Please," I plead softly. His head slowly moves around, then down until our eyes finally meet. He looks angry and torn…all at once.

"I am very upset, Ana."

"I know. That's why we need to talk. We communicate. That's what we do," I murmur. At my words, his gaze hardens and his nostrils begin to flare.

Holy shit.

"Yeah Ana…that's what we do. But you didn't do that," he snarls.

Jesus…I…I don't know what else to say to him. It's going to be a continuous tongue-lashing from here on out until he feels that I have finally learned my lesson.

Saddle up, Ana.
You're in for a long, bumpy ride.

I take in a deep breath, contemplating my next statement.
Choose your words very carefully, Ana Grey. They may come back to bite you.

"You're right – I didn't. But it was for a reason and I would like to communicate that reason to you right now. Please." My sincere blue eyes lock into his pissed-off grays. In spite of this, my plea appears to have absolutely no effect on him whatsoever. It's discouraging.

"Please – let's talk outside," I murmur once more. After a few moments of his harsh glare, he soon breaks.

We're finally getting somewhere.

Thirty seconds later, I can feel the palms of his hands lifting me off of his lap. It takes me by surprise, so I reflexively stand to my feet. He soon joins me before subtly motioning his head over towards the door.

After quietly closing the bedroom door behind us, he leads the way to the main room of the house, which is illuminated by the flickering embers of the fireplace. I idly wonder why the fireplace is on at this hour. It was off when I hung up from my call with Christian hours ago. Just when I think he's going to lead us over to the sofa so that we can talk there, he stops abruptly and then turns to face me.

We now stand toe to toe.

Let's get ready to rumble...

"Talk," and his command comes across as very bitter. It chills me.

"Look, I was going to tell you about Brie when you called, but then you started talking about how frustrating negotiations were with the Japanese. I didn't want to add on to that since Brie was doing fine at the time."

His face gets darker. He's now seething.
Holy fuck.

"No – you should have called me the second you hung up from the school yesterday afternoon!" His soft, careful tone of voice has officially left. We are beyond the walls of the master bedroom, so it's now open season on me. I instantly kick into survival mode.

"Christian – I was freaking out! I've never gotten a call like that before from the school…for any of our children!"

"Your first call should've been to me! I would've made sure that Luke picked you up and I would've turned Charlie Tango back around and come home!"

"I wasn't thinking in that moment! I heard Brie crying in the background, and all I could think about was that I needed to get to her immediately!" I cry out, with tears now streaming down my face at the dreadful memory.

"Fuck!" Christian turns forcefully on his heel, spinning away from me and frantically runs both of his hands through his unruly copper and gray hair. I instantly feel his pain and helplessness, and it burns me to the core.

And I want to rub his back, but I keep my distance knowing that it will only upset him more. Helplessness isn't an emotion that my husband will ever get acclimated to. It's his Achilles heel.

"You can't imagine what was going through my head the moment I found out that our daughter was in the hospital and you didn't tell me! I fucking talked to you last night and you didn't say a word about it!" he shouts at me, now facing me once more. His beautiful face is now red with rage.

Christ.

I stare back at him with wide-open eyes.

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be…deceitful. I thought I was doing the right thing by handling it and not involving you until you got home. I didn't think things here were serious enough for you…"

"Our daughter's in a fucking cast, Ana! What constitutes 'serious enough' for you?!"

"They x-rayed her ankle right in front of me and told me that it was a quick healing, clean fracture! They put her in a cast and sent her home! She didn't stay overnight! It wasn't serious!" When the words exit my mouth, I know right away that they will fuel his fire.

"You should have fucking called me!" he growls.

Just as I called it. He didn't digest not one goddamn word that I said.
I decide not to fight fire with fire and calmly explain myself once more.

"Christian, I'm sorry. I just thought that you were up in the air at the time – flying to Portland. If things were worse, I would've called you immediately. But once I got to the hospital and saw that it was a clean fracture, I assumed that everything was all under control. I simply took the twins home, and that was that."

"And instead of calling me once you got home, you proceeded to take work calls and finalize the German deal," he snaps.

Wow. That's a real shitty way of putting things, Grey.

"It wasn't like that!" I say, now elevating my voice once more.

"Well, how was it then?"

I am truly at a loss with this man. There's nothing I can say in the moment that will change how upset he feels towards me. It's like every defense that I throw at him, he turns it into a weapon against me. It's been a very long time since I've seen this side of Christian. I couldn't deal with it then, and I most certainly can't deal with it now…especially on a full bladder.

"I didn't want to leave the team in the lurch. So I took calls all while I was with the twins between the hospital and home. After Brie was settled in bed with her sister, I took only an hour in my study before rejoining the girls."

"And yet, you didn't call…or text me," he says in an accusatory tone.

I have nothing else to say. It will always come back to how much I suck for not calling him. It's a losing battle.

He looks at me, anticipating a response, but I say nothing. We stand in virtual silence for a few beats, with only the crackling sounds of the fireplace.

"Grace called me an hour after I spoke to you," he starts.

And right away, my brain parses through the scenario of how Christian potentially finds out about Brie before he can even tell the story.

Christian's mother is a retired doctor, but still quite active in the medical community. Someone she knows must've saw us.

"She wanted to know if everything was okay. I was confused. Then she mentioned that a former colleague of hers who currently works at Children's contacted her. That colleague recognized you and the twins and noticed the cast on Brianna's foot."

Yep, that's how it happened. So it wasn't Sawyer or Mrs. Taylor. It was the Seattle medical community. Geez – what ever happened to the Hippocratic Oath and confidentiality?

"I thought that she was absolutely mistaken. I knew that my wife wouldn't dare leave me in the fucking dark concerning any of our children! No way!"

Now he's worked up all over again. Lovely.

"I called you back and you didn't answer. I feared the worse. So I had Taylor pull up the surveillance footage from earlier that day and saw Bethany wheeling her sister into the house," he hisses.

Bingo. Surveillance footage. It's Classic Grey.
But if I really knew my husband, why couldn't I avoid this entire mess?

"Imagine how I felt seeing Brianna in a cast…helpless – and I'm hours away! This could've been avoided, Ana!"

I gape at him. Is he for real? I mean seriously. It was an accident during volleyball practice.

"How?" Yeah Grey, how could I have avoided all of this? How could I have avoided you still flipping out, even if you would've known the second that I found out?

"I would've been home sooner had you called!"

I sigh and shake my head not knowing how else to deal with this man standing before me.

"She's in a cast and will be for at least four weeks. I had everything under control. We were all taking very excellent care of Brie. There's nothing else you could've done here, Christian. Your team needed you more in Portland at the time."

And something happens. I can see a glimmer of pain peering through the anger. It stuns me.

"So my family doesn't need me anymore?"

I gape at him. "That's not what I said!"

"That's clearly what you just said, Ana."

"That's not what I meant! Hell…you were going on and on about how historical these deals were…just yesterday! You were planning on missing Brie's volleyball match because of it!"

Christian immediately gets defensive. "And there you go…throwing shit in my face when you are the one in the wrong here!"

Frustrated, I swing my hand to my hip. "Wha – are you serious?!"

"I called Brianna last night to apologize, yet you persisted to lie to me by omission!"

Hi, Brick Wall. Maybe you'll listen to me instead.

"Oh my God! Christian…I've already apologized and explained myself over and over again…"

"That was your opportunity to finally tell me what happened to Brianna, and you blew it," he growls.

"Look, I handled things here so you could go on and close the deals! We're a team! That's what we do!"

"And if we were really a team, you would've told me first about Brianna's injury – and you didn't," he quietly scolds.

I have that feeling in my gut…the one you get when you try over and over again to climb up the wall, but you keep sliding down. I'm getting nowhere. Instinctively, I turn away and start to walk.

"Where are you going!" he snaps at me. I still and turn back to glare at him.

"Can I pee?!"

He glares back at me, and I know that he wants to continue his tongue lashing since he's on a roll.

"I'll be back," I say, irritated.

As I sit on the toilet in the bathroom nearest the great room, I place my elbows on my thighs and rest my face in my palms. The events of the past twenty-four hours run rampantly through my head in no particular order. And as I parse every scenario, I can honestly say that I totally regret not calling my husband on my way to the hospital. It's obvious that every scenario would have led to Christian coming home early.

So now, not only have we potentially lost the deal with Tokyo, but I have lost peace with my husband. He is going to lord this incident over me for many, many days. I just don't see it going down any other way.

Do I have the energy right now to deal with my husband and his many moods?

Or maybe I'm simply blowing this way out of proportion. It's early in the morning. We're both tired. Once Christian spends some quality time with Brie and sees that she's doing fine, perhaps he will cool down.

Yeah – he just needs time to settle down.

Once I exit the bathroom, I realize that Christian is no longer present in the great room. I stand there perplexed.

Where did he go? Is he back in our bedroom?

On a hunch, I stop by his study and see that the door is closed. However, a glimmer of light shines through the tight cracks, so I know for a fact that he's in there. I turn the knob, but the door is locked.

Seriously?!

I can't believe that he's locked himself in his office like a petulant adolescent.
I'm too annoyed to knock.

"Christian?"

"What."

"I thought we were going to finish talking."

"I don't want to talk to you right now."

Are you fucking kidding me right now?

"Because I left to pee?"

"No – I'm mad. Go back to bed."

I lean forward and my forehead lands against the door. An involuntary laugh quietly escapes me. I feel like I am going insane.

If he doesn't talk to me, then maybe I'll just talk to this door instead.

I stand up straight and face the door.

"Honestly, I thought I was doing the right thing. Brie's ankle injury wasn't as bad as they thought. So I thought – hey, I'll nurse her, get Beth and Phoebe involved. We'll have a girls' night right after I got things squared off with Marco. Things are going smoothly, so no need to get Christian involved. He's already up to his neck with the Japanese. He's very anxious to close this deal and get home.

"I wasn't being malicious. I was only protecting you from the unnecessary stress. You already had a lot on your plate. Once I saw that Brie was going to be okay, I was able to carry the load. I thought that I was being a good wife."

I lean against the door and still. Thirty seconds go by, and Christian doesn't say a word.

A minute.
Two minutes.
Nothing.

"I thought I was doing the right thing," I say, breaking the silence. But the silence soon returns. Christian remains quiet on the other side of the door.

It's then when I realize that he is not going to let this go. With that realization, I quietly turn away and return to bed with the girls.

….

Ted

I'm sitting impatiently in my dorm room when my burner cell rings right at noon. I pick up after the first ring.

"Hello."

"Teddy?" Her reluctant voice calls out through the phone, and I immediately know that whatever she has to say won't fix this never-ending ache in my belly.

Whatever happens after this call, I still have class at 1:30 today. Will I have the mind to attend, or will I be too obliterated to even function?

I decide to rip off the fucking Band-Aid at warp speed.

"So last time we talked, you were mentioning the fact that you've kindly moved on from me – while failing to mention that fact to me. You then proceeded to get engaged to some guy that you just started dating six weeks ago…"

"Wait a minute – I never said that. I never said that we just started dating six weeks ago," she said, sounding appalled by my summary.

I frown harshly after her words. "You said you weren't with him when we were last together six weeks ago. That's what you said."

"And that is true. I wasn't sleeping with him at the time, but we were still spending time together here on campus."

Now I'm really confused. Were they in the same circles or the same clubs? He's a senior art major and she's a senior hospitality major. Certainly at this point, they aren't taking any of the same courses together.

"So what am I not getting? You said that you've already met his parents and they supposedly like you more than my parents ever did. Isn't that what you said in so many words?" I ask in a confrontational tone.

"Well…yes."

She sits there – quiet, not adding anything more to her statement.

I need answers, Sophie. Shooting down what I say or just sitting there in silence after one-word responses isn't clearing up shit for me.

Riddle me this:
Why in the fuck are you with this guy?
Why aren't you still with me?

You said you loved me. Was it all a lie?

"I'm not understanding what's going on here, Sophie. I asked you six weeks ago after we made love to wait for me – and you said you would. You said." I make it a point to utter the last two words slowly. She sighs, exasperated.

"Teddy, you're not being realistic here. It never would've worked out...you know it wouldn't have."

Suddenly, I see red and my blood begins to boil.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"

"Teddy…"

"I had a plan! I told you! You were good with the plan – so you said!"

"Teddy…"

"I was doing this accelerated program for you! For us! As soon as I graduated, we were going to take off to Chicago together! You said that you wanted to work at the Hyatt Hotels Corporation…and I was going to shoot for Boeing! We would start out renting a room Downtown before we found our dream condo in Lincoln Park once our jobs got rolling! That was the plan!"

"Teddy – that's unrealistic!"

Is this a fucking joke?!
What in the hell happened to her?!

I don't know this girl anymore.

This is not the same girl who encouraged me to stay the course. This is not the same girl who was just as desperate as I was for us to finally be together.

"What are you talking about?! That's not what you…"

"I know what I said, Teddy," she starts in a calm voice. "But I had to let reality finally set in. Things were never going to work out between us. Do you wanna know what would've happen the moment you pulled the bait-and-switch on your dad and moved with me to Chicago after graduation? Hell…your dad only agreed to your accelerated graduation plan after you promised him that you'd return to Seattle and help him and your mom run the business!"

"I said exactly what I needed to say to him in order to set our plan in motion! Once I graduate from college, I no longer have to deal with him! You knew that!"

I am now hyperventilating as I tightly clench my bed quilt with my free hand. I am trying not to rise up and take out my frustration on the wall or some other object, alarming the other residents. I am so angry right now.

Why is she doing this to me?!
I love her!

"I know I told you that I would wait, but I couldn't wait anymore. I…I'm so sorry. I just didn't know how to finally break away from you. This…this isn't good for me. This isn't healthy for me…nor is it for you. I'm approaching 23-years-old now, Ted. I can't keep playing this star-crossed, teenage-love game. It's time for me to finally grow up." Her voice trembles during her entire spiel.

And there it is.

The sound of her voice lets me know that whatever feelings she might've had for me, they were simply immature. She has finally outgrown me. My heart has officially dislodged from my stomach and has fallen to the floor.

But in spite of all that she has said, I still l can't wrap around my head the fact that after what we've shared over these past two years – hell, over the past nineteen years – what's happening right now is not exactly registering with me. She has to be a heartless bitch in order to drop everything that we had and take on something so new…something so uncertain with a guy that has a fucking blemish on his record. I don't believe for one second that the Sophie Taylor I know could ever be this heartless.

Something is not right.

"Sophie, what is really going on here? What…did your dad tell you to do this? Was it my dad? Look, you can tell me. I won't be upset."

"Ted, stop it. Nobody told me to do anything. I finally saw that we weren't going anywhere living like this, so I allowed myself to move on with Aiden. I'm finally happy now. Isn't that what you've always wanted for me?"

What in the actual fuck?

"Are you kidding right now?!" I seethe.

"And I want you to be happy too! Teddy…look – you're drop-dead gorgeous. You're a Grey for fuck's sake! You're brilliant…probably in the top of your class at Stanford. You have so much going for you. One day, you're going to be running the top privately owned firm on the planet! What do you want with your family's longtime lead security personnel's daughter?! You have your pick of the entire universe! You can have any girl that you want!"

"But I want you!" I snap. "Sophie…why are you doing this?!" My voice is starting to crack, and I suddenly feel my entire body following suit. I just want the floor to swallow me up whole. This is the worse feeling that I have ever felt in my entire life. She is literally killing me softly right now.

"Teddy, stop it – please. I'm just being honest with you right now. I'm so sorry that it has taken me this long to explain everything to you. Look, I thought I had feelings for you. But now I understand that my feelings were all wrong. I used to babysit you when you were nine. When you got older, I just took care of your sisters. It was then that I let things get too far between you and I. Now, I'm with someone my own age."

I can't listen to this crap anymore.

"We're only four years apart, Sophie!"

"Four years is a long time when you're our age. You're not even nineteen yet, Teddy. You have so much more in life to learn and experience."

She's talking to me like she's my mother now, and it's irritating. She said nothing of the sort six weeks ago when I was making her come multiple times in that hotel room.

"So are you saying that I'm not man enough for you?" I scoff. She sighs.

"Look…I get it. I was your first love. But trust me – you'll grow past this. You'll forget all about me and move on. I care so much for you, Teddy…but as a friend. The fact remains that I'm engaged now. I'm truly in love with Aiden."

Fucking Aiden.
I boil over.

"Well – I'm not sure how you expect me to respond to that, Sophie. I did call you yesterday to tell you about my little research on your supposed fiancé. He apparently has a history dodging an illegal drug possession charge. Is that what you want to associate yourself with?"

Silence suddenly spreads between us, thick and heavy.
Did she already know about this, or is this news to her?

"Sophie?" I say, checking to see if she's still with me.

"I…" she eventually starts, then stops herself before restarting again.

"I absolutely cannot believe you, Ted. You are becoming the person that you swore you wouldn't become. You are judgmental and intrusive. You are turning into your father. Goodbye, Ted." After she says the words, she hangs up on me.

My world ceases to move.

...

Monday, September 22, 2031

Ana

I'm glad that it's Monday.

This is the part where someone would whisper: Said no one ever. However, I truly mean it. Hurray for Monday. I need to be in my own space and back in the zone of business.

Granted on the other side of the closest door to my desk lies the crux of all of my problems. My moody husband who has barely spoken more than two words to me since our argument last Wednesday. I had a good time with family and friends over the weekend, but my husband behaving like such a total dick towards me sort of overshadowed it.

During the past few days when we sat together at the dinner table as a family, Christian would never speak directly to me. He'll say things like: Bethany, your mother might want to proofread your essay once you're finished –or– Phoebe, you should ask your mother if it's okay for you to take off with Hanson after your sisters' birthday party on Saturday.

Grey, I'm right fucking here – so why are you ignoring me?!

Tomorrow night will mark a week since Christian and I have slept in the same bed together. Even with business travel on the table, we have not gone more than three nights without sleeping in the same bed.

I suspect that he has been dozing off in his study. He hasn't been changing into his PJs and he only comes into the master bedroom to shower and change into another suit.

Hell, I've said my piece. I have nothing else to say to this man. And anyhow, if I did have something to say, it'll just fuel the flames. Therefore, I decided to keep my distance and let him cool off. However, it's been five days and it seems like the storm isn't even close to letting up. I don't think this man even so much as looked at me since Wednesday. The very thought causes my stomach to churn.

Christian and I have always been a passionate couple. One would never know that we've been together and strong for twenty years. We've always behaved as if we just fell in love yesterday. We're inseparable in every way. Even at work, we still found it quite difficult to keep our hands off of each other. But now…

I'm starting to feel sicker and sicker to my stomach.
I never wanted us to end up as that couple.

The couple that despises each other –
The couple that can't stand being in the other's presence for longer than a minute –
The couple that just survives – barely hanging on a thread –
The couple that's practically roommates and no longer lovers and best friends.

The couple that eventually grows into that old couple – hoping that the other one croaks soon so that they can finally move on with their life.

Jesus – I can't even fathom it.
It's Christian and Ana for heaven's sake!
We're not that couple!
We could never be that couple!

I am getting quite tired. I'm both stressed out and tired. On top of the birthday party for the twins on Saturday at the house – featuring lakeside fireworks, a cookout and the whole shebang, I've been going through some…changes.

One minute, I'm burning up – sweating. The next minute, I'm freezing cold. Then I'm sad, practically crying myself to sleep. The next minute, I feel like breaking down Christian's locked study door with an ax

Since Wednesday, Christian has been attached to Brie at the hip. He stayed at home with her until Thursday while I went to work and tried to clean up the mess that he left behind concerning the Tokyo deal. Luckily, the negotiations moved back to Seattle. The Japanese stayed an additional week, and we were able to finally make some headway. Christian did manage to call in to two of our meetings while he was at home taking care of Brie.

Ros even gushed over how wonderful it was that Christian and I were doing what some may deem a role swap. In the past, it would've been the mom at home nursing the sick kid while dad goes away to work. But Christian wasn't going to let Brie out of his sight.

He didn't even want Brie to return to school at all last week. Even though Brie appreciated the quality time she spent with her father, she was quite bored, so she returned to school on Friday – crutches and all. Brie decided that there was such a thing as too much ice cream and too many kung fu movie marathons.

"Dad, I'm okay – really. Go!"

I would hear Brie say this constantly…at least three times a day since she's been in a cast. But in spite of her pleas to him that she's more than okay, Christian is still mad at me. Nothing has changed since he and I had it out in early in the morning in the main room.

Over the past five days, my emotions have shifted from scared, to sad…to downright angry. It's obvious that no matter how much we try to hide it, the girls see plain as day that the tension is evident between their father and me.

"Why is Dad acting so weird around you?"

I could tell that the girls were thinking it, but it finally took Beth to speak up on it. I did nothing but simply brush it off.

"Its just Daddy being Daddy. Lots of stuff going on at work, and he's worried about your sister."

"But Brie's fine. She's loving her cast and all of the attention that she's getting here and at school."

Perhaps I should break a bone so that my husband would finally talk to me.
But right now, the only bone I want to break is his.

My desk phone rings. It's one of my execs at our New York offices. I quickly answer the phone and he proceeds to fill me in on a project that I've been waiting weeks to hear feedback on.

"That's great, Pete! Now that's what I like to hear," I rave. He goes on and talks about the strategy that's getting into gear and the two of us go back and forth for quite some time. While he's talking, I suddenly feel hot.

Oh no – not this shit again.

I pick up a stack of papers that are stapled together, not even bothering to look and see what they are before frantically fanning myself with them.

"Yeah Pete, sure. I see what you mean…" I reply, breathy.

Damn, this sucks.

Moments later, I hear a ping from my computer. While laughing at something that Pete just said, I launch the brand new email.


From: Christian Grey
Subject: RE: Tokyo Partnership
Date: September 22, 2031 10:13
To: Anastasia R. Grey

I just read your glowing feedback on finance's forecast for the Tokyo development. You need to go back and look at it again. I am not signing off on this as it stands.

Best regards,

Christian Grey
Co-CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.


I gape at the screen.

First of all, Christian usually addresses me in emails as Mrs. Grey, Ana, Anastasia, Bunny, Baby, Sweetheart… None of those nouns were used. Instead, he just gets right to the point, and he's a royal prick about it to boot.

I don't effing believe this man.

"Ana?"

I'm startled by the sound of Pete's voice.

"Pete, I'm so sorry. I'm currently distracted at the moment."

"I know you're very busy. I just wanted to give you a quick update. We'll do lunch the next time I'm there at corporate."

"Sure thing, Pete."

Pete's very wise and can always tell when it's time to end the call – so he does.

I glare angrily at my monitor, trying to come up with a response to Christian's curt email. I could strangle him with my bare hands right now. But after parsing through a barrage of insults about my husband in my mind, in spite of my hot flashes – a cooler head soon prevails. I could easily fight fire with fire, but that has never worked with Grey. It only gets him riled up even more.

Ignoring him works best.

But my resolve doesn't dull the fact that I feel rejected. Suddenly, I feel a pang in my belly and the dam breaks. I start to cry.

Why in the hell am I crying?! I've apologized, yet my husband is still being a dick to me. I'm usually fairly strong every time Fifty the Tiger decides to change his many stripes. But somehow, I'm unable to handle it this time around. In spite of my haywire emotions, I stay the course and ignore his email.

I take Grey's snarky advice and revisit the forecast for Tokyo.

….

Wednesday, September 24, 2031

After yet another shitty morning, I return to my office from lunch. I feel much more relaxed now.

No, Christian didn't knock on my door and ask me what I was doing for lunch today. In fact, he hasn't done that since before he got mad at me over a week ago. Instead, I have a nice relaxing lunch with Lola, my personal assistant.

Lola and I catch up on each other's children and laugh heartedly over the joys of running our individual households when we're not at GEH taking over the world. It's refreshing talking to another mother. My children are much older than hers, so I often give her feedback on what to expect with teenagers. Needless to say, Lola's not looking forward to her turn.

Just as I'm settling, behind my desk, I get two separate fires from two executives that I need to put out. It's funny that over the years, certain issues come straight to me because people know that I can calmly resolve things without resulting to riling out a series of 'fucks' like my co-CEO normally does in a crisis. Whenever I hear bad news, I sit back, swallow, calmly reflect, and then devise a logical solution.

After I hang up the phone from resolving the second problem of the afternoon, my hot flashes return with a vengeance. I begin to frantically fan myself down. Suddenly, I hear my phone buzz and instantly wonder if it's Christian. But he's right next door, so why would he call my cell? And besides, he's still not speaking to me. I check the screen.

It's not him.
It's Carla.

Do I even have the energy to talk to my mother right now? Hell, I just saw her over the weekend at the twins' birthday party. She's now back home in Georgia, but she still can't keep away from staying on top of what's going on with the kids and with me. She's constantly posting on all of our social media walls for no apparent reason – and she puts up the most random shit. Like goofy memes of cats captioned with a shit load of smiling emojis with heart-eyes along with strings of 'Grandmommy loovveeeessss youuuuuu soooooo muuuccchhhh!' Then there's the nasty habit of her liking her own posts. It's rather disturbing.

Shoot me if I ever start doing that to my children.

"Hi Mom."

"Ana dear! How are you?"

"I'm fine. Did Bob survive the three days without you last week?"

"Just barely. You know how he gets whenever I leave town to see you and the grands. That party for the twins was absolutely wonderful!"

"I know. They loved it. So glad that everything turned out great."

"You and Grace always throw the loveliest parties. I had a fantastic time. It almost seemed like it was my birthday," she chuckles.

"I could tell that you were having a ball," I smile.

"So I guess that's it for at least two years, huh? The next big milestone birthday isn't until Phoebe's 18th. Then Teddy turns 21 the year after that."

"Mom, please don't remind me. Let me enjoy the kids while they're still young," I grumble.

God, I'm getting old.
I slowly sink into my chair at the depressing thought.

"I meant to call you the second I got back, but I got sidetracked cleaning up after Bob. I'm getting sick of him being retired. He needs to find a part time job or take on a new hobby when he's not golfing," she laments.

Before I can respond, she continues.

"But enough about me. Oh…I just saw photos from the party on Phoebe's and the twins' pages. I went ahead and tagged myself in every one so that all of my friends can see them on my page."

Oh, joy. I'm sure the girls will love that. And no doubt she 'liked' and commented on each and every one of their images while in the process of tagging herself.

"The only reason I even have a clue as to what's going on with my granddaughters is because of social media. And that Hanson fella…he's such a sweet young man! I love all of the pictures of him and Phoebe together posted on his page!"

Yes Carla, I know. The second my mother met Hanson in the flesh on Saturday, she friended him on social media.

"I don't understand why Teddy simply refuses to be online. He hardly ever calls me anymore. I have no clue what he's been up to lately. I miss my oldest grandchild…my only grandson."

Teddy unfortunately had to miss his sisters' party due to a big exam in one of his classes, so my mother was unable to see him. He did do a hologram call along with his sisters once they woke up the morning of their birthday, which they were all pretty stoked about. Teddy also managed to mail the twins a present ahead of time, which I kept hidden until the party.

As far as social media goes, Teddy claims that he doesn't care for it. However, I have a feeling that it has more to do with his father's penchant for snooping around than it does for Teddy's lack of desire to have an account. The very thought makes my stomach twist. I wish they could work out this unspoken thing. Hell – Christian and I are barely even speaking now. I roll my eyes at the thought.

"Teddy's been extremely busy with his accelerated program. You know he's coming back for the spring semester to work his internship at Amazon. Why don't you come up for a month while he's home?"

Hey, my mom might be a little crazy, but I love it whenever she's in town. She brightens up the entire house. And perhaps Bob can learn between now and then how to function without my mother doing every little thing for him. It'll do him some good.

My mother is quiet, seemingly considering the possibility.

"I think that's a good idea. I'll think about it some more. You know, I'm quite bored. And to be honest, I'm getting really sick of Bob since he no longer has to go to work and is home all of the time when he's not golfing," she hisses. I laugh.

"Yeah, it'll do you some good to spend a month with all of your grandkids. You barely get to see them," I spark.

"I know, I know. I would really love that. I'm so proud of all of my grandchildren," she says, oozing with joy.

"I know, Mom. I'm proud of the kids too," I murmur.

"So, what's going on with you? I feel that every time we talk, it's always about the children. How's my Ana doing?"

My heart immediately drops into my gut. In spite of this, I clear my throat and try to maintain face.

"It's going okay. Business is great."

My mother remains silent for a beat, which gradually begins to disarm me since she is usually always talking.

"Ana?"

"What?"

"What's wrong? I sensed that something strange was going on with you and Christian. Spill it."

Shit.

I take in a deep breath, not knowing what to say in that moment.

"Go ahead…spill to Momma."

Fuck.

I finally muster up the strength to start my reveal.

"So, you know about Brie's broken ankle."

"She happily hobbled around in her cast all weekend."

"Your son-in-law isn't speaking to me. He's apparently upset because while he was away in Portland on an extremely important business deal last week, I failed to tell him about Brie's volleyball injury."

"Oh boy."

Oh boy?
Is that all she has to say?

"Yeah…so anyway, he's barely talking to me now – even though I've apologize profusely and explained to him that I had everything all under control at home. When he finds out about Brie, he leaves the team in Portland and comes home right in the middle of the night – jeopardizing the entire deal. So now, I've gotta clean up the mess at work too. It's just…"

I suddenly run out of steam and take in two deep, calming breaths. Still, I'm feeling anything but calm. I continue.

"And now, my hormones are all out of whack. I'm moody one minute, and I'm burning up, sweating in the next. Then I start crying for no reason at all…"

"Ana, sweetie..." Carla interrupts me – and I'm not sure if I'm going to like what she has to say to me next. My mother has never been one to tell me what to do with my life. As a free spirit herself, she has always encouraged me to trust and follow my own heart.

I'm hoping as she has gotten older that she doesn't cease giving a fuck and finally decides to tell me what to do with my life. If she ever gets to that point, I just hope that I'm not as moody as I am right now. I'm pretty certain that if anything comes out of that mouth of hers that rubs me the wrong way, I am going to say something that will probably have her in tears by the end of this call.

Afterwards, I'll just end up hanging up on her and feeling like such a miserable bitch only moments later. Then after that, I'll have to call her back to apologize and maybe plan a weekend trip down to Georgia with the girls in order to make it all up to her. Seriously, I just don't have the time to go out of my way and do any of that stuff.

So Carla – for the love of all that's holy…please don't tell me what to do in my marriage unless I ask for it.

"I was in my early forties – just like you when I became premenopausal."

What?

That wasn't what I was expecting to hear.

"Everything you're describing is exactly what I went through. Sounds like you have of touch of what I had. You may want to visit your OB/GYN."

I sit and think about the past few weeks.
Whoa – maybe that's why my emotions are all over the place.

"Mom, you never told me about that."

"Yeah sweetie, I know. You and Christian just had baby Teddy at the time, and I was thrilled. I was able to ignore the onset of my symptoms and just live in the moment. But when I got back home with Bob and just couldn't take it anymore, I finally caved and visited my doctor. That's when I found out what was going on with me. And believe it or not, my mother went through the very same thing in her early forties."

Wow, I could be menopausal. That means…

I brush away the thought.

Ana, settle down. You have a great life, even though your husband is being a jackass right now. You have four beautiful children. You have done everything you have set out to do. Regret nothing.

"I'll set an appointment with my doctor. I'm so glad I brought that up to you," I chuckle.

"Yes honey…that's why you need to speak to your mother from time to time. I've walked your path. Granted, I didn't have more than one child…along with a multi-billion dollar global business to maintain, but I still like to think that I know a few things," she says in a sweet voice.

I laugh. "Mom, you absolutely know more than I do. Never underestimate yourself. I love you and miss you. Please…see if you can come down for a month after New Year."

"I will, my love. And make sure you call me as soon as you hear back from your doctor."

"Will do. I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Sweetheart."

….

Thursday, September 25, 2031

By late Thursday afternoon, I've finally had it with this week. I was at my breaking point. Then this came along…


From: Christian Grey
Subject: RE: Tokyo Partnership
Date: September 25, 2031 15:13
To: Anastasia R. Grey

Mrs. Grey,

For some reason, you're not getting it through your brain that finance's numbers are not checking out. You've claimed to re-read the report several times, and yet you continue to stand by it.

Can you actually sign off on this with a clear conscience, or are you simply minimizing the major errors in this report and deliberately refusing to alert me on them, which you've very recently had a tendency to do even with matters outside of work?

Best regards,

Christian Grey
Co-CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.


From: Anastasia R. Grey
Subject: RE: Tokyo Partnership
Date: September 25, 2031 15:15
To: Christian Grey

Asshole.

Many thanks,

Anastasia R. Grey
Co-CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.


After I hit send, I fly out of my seat like a bat out of hell and angry stomp in my beige strapped high heals towards the door that separates my office from Christian's. I swing the door open without knocking and storm right in.

Christian's eyes quickly meet mine from behind his desk. In the seats opposite his desk sit Barney and Joe – our tech masters. The two gentlemen see the sheer rage in my face and they fearfully stand quickly to their feet before rushing out of the room without saying a single word.

I then march up to Christian's desk and place my palms flat on it before leaning across it to glare directly into his narrowed gray eyes.

"What in the fuck is your problem, Grey?! I told you – the numbers completely check out! I've reviewed them myself several times! Then I reviewed it right along with our best financial analysts! What in the world are you seeing that we aren't?! Why don't you stop being such a prick and tell me what I'm supposedly not seeing?!" I scream at him – practically from the top of my lungs.

Christian springs to his feet and he also places his palms on his desk, leaning in closer to me.

"You lied, Ana. You told me that everything was fine when I called you from Portland last week."

He can't be serious. Still…he refuses to let what happened last week go. I can't deal with this nonsense. Not right now.

"We're not discussing the children here!" I bark at him.
He's now as inflamed as I am.

"This is not just about the children, Ana! We're supposed to be team! You knew better than to keep secrets from me!"

"Well holy shit, Christian! I apologized to you over and over again! I thought I was doing exactly what I needed to do at the time for us – the team! What else do you want from me?!"

I lift my hands from his desk and swing around, pacing to a different side of his office before I turn on my heel to confront him again. However, he heads me off at the pass.

"You're not understanding the seriousness of the matter, Ana! What you did was careless and selfish!"

"Selfish?!" I am beside myself.

Everything I do is for him and our kids! I knew he was going to blow Brie's injury up to be something life threatening, which it wasn't! Instead, he still treats it as such, annoying everyone in our home in the process. Hell, he barely lets Beth take the stairs anymore!

"You lied to me by omission, Ana! That's fucking major!"

I've literally had it at this point.
No more.

"Fuck – I said I was sorry! Look…do you want to spank me?! Will that stop you from torturing me?!"

Instantly, I regret my words.
Oh boy, why did I even say that?

Suddenly, the storm cloud shifts. His face eases up as if something finally clicks for him for the first time in many days. He slowly prowls towards me.

"You know what? Yes…I think I do."

What?
I gasp.

So that's it, huh?
That's all it takes?

As a child, I never received corporal punishment. Instead, I would get grounded during the rare occasion when I may have misbehaved. I would often hear from the other kids growing up who have received both forms of punishment that they would rather take the spanking than to be grounded for days at a time.

"At least with a spanking, you'd get your punishment over with."

I realized that for the past week, my husband has sort of grounded me. Do we finally have the chance to put this entire nonsense behind us by me simply taking a spanking?

Seeing the triumphant expression trying to loom on my husband's face causes me to drop my guard. The second Christian realizes this, he turns on his heel to lock the main doors to his office.

Holy shit – he's really going to spank me here…in his office.

On his way back to me, he deftly undoes his tie and unfastens the top two buttons of his shirt. Without protest, he then grabs me by my upper arms, spins me around, and throws my torso against his desk – face down. I gasp loudly.

He roughly hikes up my skirt to my hips and quickly pulls down my lace panties over my high heels. Then without warning, he slaps my bare ass – hard.

"Ahh!"

"Count!" he growls.

"One," I gasp.

"We're going to twenty," he says through gritted teeth. "This is for you keeping shit from me. We never do that in our marriage. Is that understood?"

I don't care what Grey says; the Dom in him has never left. It's always remained in him in one form of another. And to be totally honest, I think this side of him is hotter than a motherfucker.

"Yesyes, Sir," I breathe.

Damn, I'm so turned on. I've really missed this side of him – Mr. Take Control. He's been absent for quite some time.

"The second that either you or the kids get hurt…I don't care if it's a fucking paper cut – you tell me!" And before I can respond, his big, strong hand comes down again, slapping hard against my bare flesh. The force vibrates the sturdy, solid oak desk.

Fuck!

"Two…" I tremble.

Well that hurt.
We're going to twenty he said?
Should I safe word now?

But then I realized that these past few days have been extremely hard on me. Hell, this mixture of pain and animalistic pleasure…I absolutely needed this. The drastic change in my hormones – the stressing out over work and the children…the stressing out over Christian…

Yes, this is therapeutic – for the both of us.

I'm counting absentmindedly, and with each strike, my body practically melts across the surface of my husband's desk. And before I know it, I'm climbing higher and higher. And from the rising sound of his panting, so is he.

"Fifteen…ahhh…"

I can feel the warmth in between my legs. I am drenched with such want and desire. I feel like flames looming large in the midst of a torrential downpour. It's…

I have zero words. I am lost.

"T…twenty…ahhh…"

I can hear him frantically undoing his pants in seconds flat. He then spreads my thighs and slams into me. We both groan together as he takes me in a brutal pace right over his desk. Soon, his chest lies flat against the back of my blouse, but his punishing rhythm never breaks.

"Fuck…Ana!" he growls loudly into my ear, almost piercing it.

"Ahhhhh…"

He wraps his hand around my hair and tugs it back, lifting my chin from off of the table. He has the rest of me pinned down so tightly that I am unable to meet his rapid thrusts. I'm being held captive during his possession – loving every minute of it. Soon, I am building and I cry out in response as I come crashing down.

"BunnyI'm coming!" he gravels – his voice, clipped. He pours himself into me as his body continues to quake over mine.

After what seemed to be a couple of minutes, Christian rises from my back and I quickly stand to my feet and retrieve my panties from the floor. As I slide the garment up my thighs and under my navy blue skirt, I catch the amused look in my husband's eyes. His suit pants are still open, exposing his semi-erection. I try to maintain a poker face.

"I hope that we can finally put this Brie thing behind us. I've apologized to you over and over," I say, exasperated. He sucks in his lips to keep from smiling and then nods agreeably at me.

"You really were a dick to me," I add.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry," he says with a shy smile.

Really, Grey?

And part of me wants to punish him for putting me through his bullshit these past eight days. But instead, I march over towards my office.

"Mrs. Grey, where do you think you're…"

"I have meetings," I say, cutting him off. I then place my hand on the knob of the door that leads into my office. Before I open it, I shift my head and look back at him.

"I'll promise to not keep any more injuries – minor or otherwise from you. But you need to promise me that you'll stop being such an ass and accept my apology the moment I ask for it. I'm not perfect, Christian. I am going to make judgment calls. Sometimes, I am going to be wrong. Don't punish me for it."

At my words, his smile overtakes his face and he doesn't fight it this time.

"But Mrs. Grey, I enjoy punishing you – especially in the way that I just did. Are you going to tell me that you didn't enjoy that?" he purrs.

Without saying another word, I continue onward, opening the door and immediately shutting it behind me. I then lean against it, beaming ear-to-ear – absolutely satisfied and utterly relieved.

Yes, Christian and I are so fucking twisted.
And I love it.


A/N: In the next chapter, Ana spends some one-on-one time with Kate while Ted finally decides to try and move on from Sophie.

Then in Chapter 9, we move up two years and find out what Ted, Phoebe, and Sophie have been up to since graduation. Something happens on the home front that will shock everyone.

I have a major work trip coming up next week. I would like to try and have another update for my other story, TCB before I update the next chapter to this one. Please bear with me.

Make sure that you follow me on Facebook at storietella2 for sneak peaks to upcoming chapters. Thanks for reading! – ST2