Yet again I'm standing just inside a hospital room staring at the unconscious form of one Anastasia Steele. I thought it was pure torture when her drink had been spiked at the bar and she stumbled her way to my apartment looking as though her dress had been run through a shredder. This, though, is so much worse than anything I've ever experienced. I've probably aged a decade since finding her unconscious in a pool of her own blood and the revelation of who was behind the shooting. I've bounced between anger at everyone involved—myself, Taylor, Sawyer, Ana, and mostly Leila—and devastation when I realized this entire fucking situation is my fault.

I am why Leila targeted Ana.

I am why security was so lax; if I were doing my job correctly, Sawyer would have been stationed in the lobby of Ana's building rather than allowing himself to be dismissed by someone other than myself or Taylor.

I am why the woman I love is in pain right now after nearly dying.

How am I supposed to come to terms with that? What will Ana say once she wakes up? Surely she'll blame me as well and this will drive a permanent wedge between us, ultimately destroying any future we might have together. From the day I met her I knew I should have let her walk away from me and that I shouldn't pursue her for her own good. All I could give her were a handful of orgasms and whatever my wealth could buy her, assuming she would accept such gifts. But I've never managed to keep a steady hold of my self-control when it comes to Ana. Like the spoiled rich boy I am, I had to have the one thing I knew I shouldn't take for myself. And look where that's led us.

I take a few more steps into the room, eyeing the beeping machines she's attached to with disdain. We're not supposed to be here right now. I glance at my watch. By now I'd planned on having her on The Grace in bed where I would have taken all the time in the world to make love to her. Saying the words is still new to me so the physical action is the easiest way to convey who she is for me and what she does for me. I wanted us to spend the weekend not worrying about anyone or anything but each other, talking about what we each wanted for our future. I needed to know I wasn't the only one who had fallen so hard because I still have trouble believing someone as amazing as she could love a man like me. Now, though, I have to wonder whether that will all change when she wakes up and realizes that what has happened to her is because of me and my fucked up past.

That is what this all boils down to—my past coming back to haunt me. What I don't understand is how we didn't realize Leila was back in Seattle or that she managed to get her hands on a handgun. I suppose this is what I get for just letting Leila get away last summer without pursuing her any further. I was distracted with losing Ana for the second time in a week and I managed to block out every other thing in my life for quite a while. Sawyer and Taylor are combing the streets of Seattle looking for her. I had to order them not to hand her over into police custody just yet. This goes far beyond simply shunting her off to some psychiatric hospital where they'll medicate her and put her in therapy until they feel she's recovering; that doesn't always work and I've taken enough risks with Leila. I'm not going to stand back and wait for her to come after Ana again.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper, sitting down beside Ana's hospital bed and taking her right hand in both of mine, wincing at how cold her skin remains. I can still see her on the floor of her bedroom; all my worst nightmares come to life. "I should have been with you. I should have protected you." I bring her hand to my lips, attempting to warm it as I kiss her fingers. "If I lose you, nothing in my world will matter anymore. You are everything, Anastasia."

I have to stop speaking or I'm going to start crying again and right now, I need to be strong for her. Behind me someone clears their throat and I turn, finding Ray Steele entering the room. I immediately stand up to face him, though all he seems to see is his daughter. On the few occasions I've seen Ray over the last year, he has always been the picture of stoicism. For the first time, I can see that mask crumble just a little as he stares at Ana's unconscious form. He seems to be doing better than I did when I first came in and saw her—I spent several minutes fighting between anger and utter devastation and couldn't decide whether or not I could handle being here right now, then realized there wasn't anywhere else I could be right now.

"Oh Annie, what have you gotten yourself into this time?" Ray mutters, desolate. He finally turns and acknowledges me. "How is she?"

Clearing my throat, I repeat everything I've been told about what happened to her, her prognosis, and current condition in a robotic voice I hardly recognize as mine. "She's still under surgical anesthesia and painkillers, but she should wake sometime tomorrow."

Ray nods, dropping into a chair beside mine. "You've been with her this whole time?" he asks quietly. "You found her?"

I wince, my ears hearing an accusatory tone that probably isn't there at all. "I found her," I whisper hoarsely. "And it's not something I'll forget as long as I live."

"I can only imagine," he mutters, scrubbing his hands down his face. "Christ, I just talked to her yesterday evening. She sounded good, happy."

I look away from Ana briefly. "She sounded happy?" I ask hopefully. If this destroys our relationship, at least I'll know I made her happy for a brief time.

Ray's lips twitch slightly in a smile. "She really did. I asked her what her plans were for the weekend and she said you were taking her out on your boat." He looks at me fully. "Am I to take it the two of you are back together?"

Are we really going to have this conversation right now? "Yes," I answer. "A few weeks now—give or take. It's been a rather eventful few weeks."

Ray snorts humorlessly. "So I hear. But let's get through this before discussing the rest, shall we?"

I nod. "Fair enough." Leaning back in my chair, I realize just how exhausted I am. "I'm sorry for this, Ray."

"What the hell are you sorry for?" he asks, still watching Ana. "Did you shoot her?"

"No!" I reply in a loud whisper, outraged. "Of course not! I would never hurt her!"

Ray nods. "Yeah, I thought as much," he mutters. "So how is this your fault?"

I shoot up to my feet suddenly—Ray seems completely unaffected—and pace around the room, fisting my hair in my hands. "Because if not for me, she never would have been shot," I growl angrily, though I'm not sure who my anger is directed at. Me, for putting her in this situation; Ana, for answering the fucking door; my security team, for not doing their fucking jobs; Ray, for asking. Though in reality, I'm the only one at fault here. "I brought this to her and I nearly got her killed."

"Why don't you have a seat, son?" Ray says evenly when I walk past him for the tenth time.

For a second, I'm tempted to let my temper out on the man, but reason returns and I know that will only harm things in the long run. So I grudgingly sit down again, dropping my head into my hands.

"Start from the beginning," he says quietly. "Tell me what happened."

I shake my head, hardly believing the conversation I'm about to have with my girlfriend's father. But I've already said too much and a man like Raymond Steele isn't going to let me out of it that easily. "The shooter," I say, focusing my gaze on Ana's sleeping face, "has been identified as a woman I was involved with a few years back."

Ray looks surprised, clearly not expecting this as an explanation. "A woman scorned?" he asks sardonically.

"Something like that," I mutter. "We were only together for about six months and it ended when I realized she wanted more from a relationship with me than I was willing to give her." I'm speaking very carefully; the last thing I want to tell Ray is the nature of my relationships before I met Ana. I'm in enough shit as it is. "We ended amicably enough, all things considered, and I hadn't heard a thing from her until last summer, around the time I first met Ana. She had a mental breakdown of sorts when she started seeing photos of me with Ana in public. I had my security team looking for her—my concern was to get her the help she needed before she did something drastic." Way to go with that one, Grey... "But she took off when Ana and I broke up, and until this, I had assumed she went back to wherever she's been hiding."

"So now you think this girl is back because you and Annie are together again?" he guesses.

"So it seems," I mutter. "I assigned a CPO to Ana months ago to help keep her out of trouble. Sawyer accompanied her back to the apartment after work, assured the apartment was clear, waited for Ana to set the security alarm, and left for the evening. Not much later, there was a knock on her door. I was working late, but she was expecting me over for dinner, so she assumed it was me, or at the very least Sawyer, so she opened the door, and..." I can only imagine what happened next. Was Ana scared? Did she try to disarm Leila? Did she try to talk her down?

"Yeah, I get it," Ray says quietly. "Still don't see how that's your fault, though. I'm sure your wealth gives you quite a bit of power, but even you can't control other people's actions."

"Maybe not," I say grudgingly, hating that Ray is making me admit it out loud. "But if I had stayed away from Ana like I should have from the beginning, she wouldn't be in this fucking bed right now."

Ray sighs. "You could be right," he agrees thoughtfully. "But I know that girl, Christian. Let me tell you something about her you may not know." I almost want to laugh; what could I possibly not know about Anastasia Steele? "I've known this girl since she was a baby and I couldn't love her any more if she were my own daughter. When her mom and I split, I was devastated—not only because of losing Carla; she and I had been growing apart for years—but because I wouldn't see Annie every day. One night when she was about fifteen, she showed up on my doorstep after taking a bus from Vegas. Didn't know she was coming, didn't know if her mom even knew she was gone. The girl was exhausted, so I shoved her into a bed and waited until morning to start interrogating her. She wouldn't say much, only that she didn't want to go back to her mom and her newest stepfather. I still don't know the whole story of what happened there, but I've always had my suspicions. Annie was never the most confident girl you've ever met, but after that asshole, her self-confidence was completely shredded. She threw herself into her schoolwork, busted her ass to get into college, and she was finally starting to open up in her last year there."

Ray waits until I turn back to him. "She was content in her life, Christian. Not happy, not depressed—content. She surrounded herself with old books and a couple of friends. She never really dated. But then she met you. I started seeing something in her eyes, hearing something in her voice that I hadn't ever heard before. As soon as I started noticing those things, I knew you had changed her somehow, and for the better. Annie started caring about things aside from those books her nose was always stuck in. I didn't ask questions, didn't want to interfere with whatever was happening. Even when she called one evening to tell me you two had broken up, she was upset, of course, but that Annie I met at her graduation who was furious when her friend introduced you to me as her boyfriend—" I actually manage a smirk at the memory. "—that girl was still there someplace. And in the last year, she's grown and evolved. She still talks about you all the time like nothing has changed.

"On the drive up here tonight, I've thought about that a lot—how much different she is from just a year ago. I think you're responsible for a great deal of that. She's always been responsible and thoughtful and took care of other people before herself, but I think that after she met you, Christian, you showed her whatever it was she was missing in her life. You brought light to my daughter's eyes for the first time. I'm not the kind of guy to go all flowery, but damn if it's not true. She is happier with you in her life. And I'm not blind. I can see the mess she's in right now and naturally I'd do anything to take this pain away from her. But I guarantee that when this girl opens her eyes, you're going to be the first one she looks for and she won't be blaming you for a damn thing."

This is the most I have ever heard Ray Steele speak in the time that I've known him and rather than telling me how bad I am for his daughter, he's telling me exactly the opposite. I really have no idea how to respond.

"Let me ask you this," he goes on quietly. "Do you love my daughter?"

That has got to be the easiest question anyone has ever asked me. "Yes, I do. More than anything," I answer. "All I ever wanted was to protect her from shit like this and to make her happy."

"So stop being so damned hard on yourself. I trust that girl's intuition more than anyone I've ever met and if she thought you'd ever do her any real harm, you'd never see her again." He narrows his eyes on me. "And if you're waiting for my judgment... Christian, I don't give a shit who you are, how rich you are, how much of the universe you own; if I really thought you were to blame for this," he gestures towards Ana, "do you really think we'd be having this conversation?"

I shoot him a wry, exhausted smile. "No, sir, I don't," I say honestly. "And I hear what you're saying—"

He interrupts me before I can go back to blaming myself again. "Good," he says, slapping the arm rests of his chair before pushing to his feet. "Get your head on straight, find who did this, help Ana recover, and we're good. I need a cup of coffee. Can I get you one?"

I nod, turning my thoughtful gaze to Ana. "Sure," I say quietly. "Thank you, Ray."

He winks, knowing I'm referring to much more than just the coffee, and leaves me alone with Ana again. For the first time since walking into Ana's apartment, I'm feeling a little lighter. I doubt it will last long, but for now, I'll take what I can get.

Right around breakfast time, my mother enters the room alongside two nurses and an orderly. I've yet to move from my seat beside Ana, but if the look on Grace's face is anything to go by, that's about to change.

"What's the matter?" I ask quietly.

Grace smiles reassuringly. "We just need to take Ana for an x-ray," she says calmly. "She shouldn't be gone for more than an hour."

Sighing, I stand up, stretching my back. "I don't suppose I can come along?" I ask resignedly.

"No," Grace says apologetically. "But I will be with her the whole time; she'll be safe, Christian."

For once, I'm too tired to argue. I nod. "Okay," I agree. "I'd still prefer it if Sawyer accompanied you."

The nurses both open their mouths to argue about hospital policy, but my mother interrupts. "That will be fine," she says. "In the meantime, why don't you head down to the cafeteria and have breakfast with everyone else." It's not a suggestion. "I know you want to take care of Ana, but you'll be no good to her if you get yourself admitted to the hospital for malnourishment."

Though the last thing I'm interested in right now is joining my family and whoever else has congregated here to be near Ana, I decide this as good a time as any to get an update on the situation. I remain at Ana's side while the nurses gather her IV drip and disconnect the heart rate monitor so they can transport her, texting Sawyer to get up here. He arrives almost immediately; after the most recent security fuck-up, clearly he's eager to prove he deserves to keep his job.

"Stay with her," I instruct him quietly. "She does not leave your sight for even a second."

Sawyer nods, already training his eyes on Ana. "Yes, sir," he replies.

I watch until Ana's bed disappears around a corner, hating that I can't be with her right now, then start to the cafeteria as my mother instructed. On the way, Taylor catches up to me and brings me up to speed. Leila remains missing, though he believes they're quickly closing in on her. I'm not interested in anything but results right now and I tell Taylor as much. Once again, he assures me they're still searching and won't rest until Leila is found. Without waiting, Taylor dismisses himself, saving me from having to tell him to fuck off until he finds something.

In the cafeteria, I quickly locate my family as well as Kate and Ray. Vaguely I wonder whether Ana's mother will be flying out as well to be with her daughter, but again, I don't particularly care. To everyone's surprise, I drop into the empty chair beside my father's. They stare at me for a minute or so, all of them trying to think of something to say, but Elliot slides a cup of coffee towards me and they resume their previous conversations.

It's not until Mia says something about how she can't believe this could happen to someone like Ana that I'm forced to join the conversation. At first, I remain quiet, staring at my watch face, but as tension builds, I look up to find Katherine fucking Kavanagh glaring daggers at me.

"What?" I ask, exasperated. The entire table falls into silence.

"Where the fuck were you?" Kate asks quietly.

I raise an eyebrow at her tone. Under more normal circumstances, I'd be more than happy to put her in her place, but I'm exhausted and my family has ringside seats to this showdown. Place-putting will have to wait. "Could you be a bit more specific?" I ask, keeping my tone just on the edge of civil.

"You were supposed to be with her last night," Kate hisses at me from across the table. "You were supposed to keep her safe."

My infamous temper is beginning to build, but I hold my tongue, schooling my expression to utter calmness while inside I'm itching to reach across the table to strangle my future sister-in-law in full view of all these witnesses. I wondered how long it would be before she started in on me.

"Kate," Elliot says warningly.

She ignores him. "Everybody has been tiptoeing around you since last night feeling sorry for you and worried how you're going to react if we breathe in your direction. You say you love her and that you want her safe, but when it really matters, you fail her. I knew from the beginning you were bad for her; just goes to show how right I was."

I could retort, argue with her until I'm blue in the fucking face that I didn't cause this, but it would be a lie. Every word Ray said to me when he arrived disintegrates as I remind myself that I am to blame. I haven't told anyone else that I know who shot Ana and that the reason for the attack is that I'm giving Ana something I never would have considered giving Leila. Telling them now will only fuel Kate's fire and show just how toxic I am for Ana. I glance briefly at Ray who is glaring at Kate just like everyone else at the table. "You don't know a fucking thing about me," I inform Kate coldly. "So don't you fucking dare make assumptions about my relationship with Anastasia."

"I don't need to make assumptions," Kate replies, mirroring my tone. "I've seen firsthand what your relationship is like. All you do is hurt her, Grey; are you really going to stick this out until you finally get her killed?"

The last time I felt this violent, I was an angry fifteen-year-old taking out his aggression and need for some form of human contact with his fists. I don't recall ever hating someone more than I hate Kate right now. But the worst part is that she's right; she told me once that in the short timeframe since Ana and I met, Ana had never cried as often as she did. I've pushed her to tears more times than I can count and recently, she's been in life-threatening danger. If I remain in Ana's life, I fear it will only end one way and that is not a scenario I could ever face.

So rather than fighting back and proving to my family that I don't deserve Ana, I decide to walk away. As I leave the cafeteria, I can clearly hear several voices alternately chastising Kate and calling for me to wait. I ignore them; I can't be here any longer.

A day and a half as passed since I was last at the hospital and I still can't gather enough nerve to go back. I ordered Sawyer to remain with Ana and have been getting regular updates on her condition via my replaced BlackBerry. Since leaving, I have spent much of my time rejecting calls from my family because I can't think of anything to say to them that will make anybody feel better. The only good thing to happen in the last thirty-six hours is the news that Ana has finally regained consciousness. She's groggy from the painkillers, confused about the events that landed her in the hospital, and overwhelmed by the attention she's receiving from friends and family.

I'm desperate to see her, to apologize to her and beg her forgiveness, but I've somehow kept myself in my apartment. The guilt I felt upon finding out who shot Ana is almost as bad as how I feel knowing she's probably wondering where I am and why I'm not with her. I can't face her right now just as I can't face my family. Call it cowardly, but facing people who will only blame me as I've been blaming myself is too much at the moment.

But apparently that won't stop my family from barging into my home without any warning.

"What the fuck is the matter with you?"

I rub my temples against a migraine as Elliot stomps into my study. "A vast number of things," I reply wearily. "What do you want?"

"You're kidding, right?" he retorts. "Ana has been awake for hours."

"I know."

"And she's been asking for you. Where the fuck have you been?"

Taking a deep breath, I sit back in my chair. "I've been right here. Working."

"Fuck your work!" Elliot exclaims, slamming both his hands on my desk and glaring at me. For a moment, I'm surprised; I can't remember ever seeing him this angry. "You're doing this because of what Kate said. And believe me, she's been spoken to by all of us about that. She had no right to say any of those things to you."

"Sure she did," I reply tiredly. "Ana is her best friend; Kate is only looking after her."

"She could have gone about it differently," Elliot argues. "Christian, no one blames you for this."

I can't listen to this shit anymore. "Well, they fucking should!" I shout.

"Why?" Elliot shouts back. "Because some ex-girlfriend of yours went batshit crazy and targeted Ana?" My face is the very picture of shock at his words. He rolls his eyes, speaking more quietly, "Ray told Dad and me only because Seattle PD identified the shooter as a woman. I've been waiting nearly two days to ask you why the fuck you never told us you have an ex-girlfriend aside from Ana."

I bite my tongue against telling him that Ana is not an ex; I'm not sure how accurate that statement would be right now. "Because it was none of your fucking business," I snap. "You think I don't know what all you thought about my love life before Ana? Poor lonely, probably gay, but definitely celibate Christian... It was easier to let you think that than to deal with the alternative reactions." This is partly true, of course; though the reason I kept my private life private is because none of them would have understood my true nature. "That's not the fucking point, anyway, Elliot. I am the reason Ana is in that hospital, shot and in pain. Leila never would have gone after Ana if I hadn't been so determined to reignite my and Ana's relationship."

"So if you could go back in time and take back every moment you had with Ana to avoid her getting hurt, you would?"

The question startles me because it's not like Elliot to ask something so deep. I actually take time to think about the question. This last year has been the best in my entire life and it's all down to Anastasia Steele. Would I change all that? It would be the epitome of selfish to say no, but it feels just as wrong to say yes. It would be like denying how important Ana is to me and how desperately I love her. But at the same time one of us needs to make the tough calls and right now, that's me.

"No," I answer. "But that doesn't change anything. She's better off without me."

Elliot only stares at me as though he's seeing me for the first time. "You know, I always admired you, Christian," he says quietly. "I remember how things were when you first came to live with us in Detroit. You were this tiny, scared kid who was always just waiting for someone to raise a hand to him. But then you broke out of that when Mia came along. I started to feel like I finally had a brother for the first time in my life and I loved it. We might be polar opposites, but I've always considered you to be one of my closest friends. I watched go from a brawler and drinker to finally discovering your potential. I have always been proud of everything you've achieved despite your childhood. We all saw what you were like after you met Ana and it amazed the hell out of us, because that was a side of you we didn't think existed. A family outsider who could make you smile and your eyes light up like it was Christmas; who knew? I was relieved when you and Ana got back together again because I knew my little brother Christian would be just fine.

"Until now, if someone asked me, I would tell them that you are the least selfish person I have ever met—everything you've done with your company proves that, but more than that, you go out of your way to make sure the people you love have what they need. Now, though..." He trails off, shaking his head. "I never thought you would be capable of being this fucking self-centered. There is a girl lying in a hospital bed across town scared and confused, and you're sitting here wallowing in self-pity. Maybe you're right, Christian; maybe you don't deserve her. But don't think for one fucking second anyone is going to let you hurt her again after this. The least you can do is go break her heart in person instead of letting her wonder what's going on."

I don't know how to respond, but it seems Elliot isn't going to wait for me to form something. The minute he finishes speaking, he turns on his heel and leaves my study. Not long after, I can hear the elevator arrive in the foyer and I know he's leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Not until recently did I start to wonder what it is that brings two people together and leads them to fall in love. Is it chemistry? A simple brushing of the fingers with the person you're supposed to be with that can cause an electric shock between the two of you, setting off a chain reaction. It's uncontrollable, unexplainable, and irrefutable. Or perhaps is some sort of preordained plan devised by the universe. Every choice made throughout one's life leads them to one precise moment when they discover that one person, even if one never dared to dream that one person existed. Maybe it's all coincidental. Right place, right time.

I don't have the answers, though I sure as hell wish I did. All I know is what is happening in my life right now. I have lost track of how many times I've wondered about what would have happened and where I would be if I hadn't met Anastasia Steele. If Katherine Kavanagh hadn't gotten the flu the day she was supposed to interview me at GEH, Ana wouldn't have tripped her way into my office and I wouldn't have started fantasizing about taking her into my playroom. That interview would have ended with me barely keeping my temper, particularly after Kate's very intrusive question about whether I was gay. I would have met Ana briefly on the day of her graduation when I handed her a college degree and we would have shaken hands, but would that have been enough to capture my attention? Or would I have gone back to Seattle, absolutely clueless to her existence, and contracted myself submissive number sixteen?

For the last twenty minutes, I've been leaning against the wall in Ana's hospital room, watching her sleep and thinking back to everything Elliot said to me. Despite this current situation, despite every bad thing that has happened to Ana, there is absolutely nothing in the world I would change about this last year. Maybe it is incredibly selfish that I would put her through this torture again as long as it means I've had her in my life for this short time, but when it comes down to it, I just can't help myself when it comes to her.

She looks so much better than she did when I was last here. Instead of the standard, itchy, revealing hospital gown, someone has brought her a pair of pajamas. I still maintain she should always be in satin or silk, but even in cotton pajamas she's gorgeous. Her color has returned to her skin, her breathing seems to have evened out, and her shoulder, still covered in bandages, is secured to her chest and cradled in a sling. According to Sawyer, who I've sent on an extended coffee run, she's been asleep since shortly after dinner when she was given her painkillers and she's been quiet since. A small part of me wants to wake her, just to talk to her for a while as I deliberate between what I want to do and what I should do.

I haven't taken a step from the wall since I arrived, afraid to do anything that might wake her up, but the longer I watch her, the more certain I am about what has to happen next. And fucking hell, I hate myself for it.

Slowly, I take a few steps towards the end of her bed, shoving my hands in my pockets to avoid touching her. "All I can hope is that you won't hate me when all is said and done," I whisper to her peaceful, sleeping face. "I only want what is best for you, Ana, and that is not me. You have so much potential, so much hope for the future, but you've put so much focus on me that I think you've lost sight of that. I love you for that, Ana, but I can't let it go on. Kate's right; if I remain in your life, things will only get worse for you. I have to get over my selfish need to keep you and just let you live your life. One day you'll look back and realize this is the right thing to do and you'll thank me. That's if you haven't completely forgotten about me."

Fuck, that's a painful thought...

"I'll never forget you, Anastasia Steele," I whisper, my throat thick with emotion. "I love you now and I will always love you. If I'm really lucky, you'll look back and have one or two fond memories of me."

I don't know how much more I can say without completely breaking down. Walking around the bed, I press a kiss to her lips, aware that this might be the last time I ever do this, and I want to cherish every second. "Goodbye, Ana," I murmur before standing up straight and starting to leave the room.

"Christian?"

I freeze in my steps as I reach the door, cursing myself for touching her. Turning around, I find Ana pressing the button on her bed to turn on the room lights and another to lift the bed so she's in more of a sitting position. "Ana," I murmur. Even from across the room, I see the hurt in her eyes and I know she heard every word I said to her. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Then you shouldn't have been standing in the shadows watching me sleep like some creepy stalker," she says evenly, no trace of humor in her voice like there would usually be. "Or talking. Or kissing me."

"I suppose you're right," I respond, returning to lean against the wall again.

We stare at each other for a few minutes while I wait for her to say something. "Is that why you haven't been here?" she asks in a whisper. "Because you've been trying to think of a way to break-up with me?"

"Not exactly," I say evasively. It's true; I wasn't thinking about breaking up with her until I actually got here. "Ana, do you realize what has happened?"

I can feel her glare. "Yes, Christian, I do. I've been shot, apparently by your former submissive, and I've been sitting in this fucking place waiting to see you walk through that door, but the moment you do, it's because you're too afraid of outside forces and decide it's better for you if you break-up with me." I'm going to assume the painkillers make her unaware at just how raised her voice has gotten.

"You almost died," I growl at her, moving forward until I'm gripping the bottom rail of her bed. "And it's because of me that Leila even knew..." I trail off, my brow furrowing. "Who told you about Leila?"

She raises an eyebrow at me. "Leila told me about Leila," she says dully. "We had a very informative chat right before she shot me."

I don't even want to imagine the exact details of that chat... "I'm sorry," I whisper painfully. "I should have known this could happen. All I can do now is let you go."

"You selfish bastard," she spits at me. "And you're a fucking coward on top of it. If this is what you want—me, out of your life—then fine, consider it done. But I'm not going to lie here listening to you tell me what a piece of shit you think you are. Just go, Christian. You've done enough."

"Ana..." I whisper desperately, uncertain what I could even say at this point.

Carefully, she turns onto her side, her back to me. Clearly we're done here...

Just before I leave the room, glancing over to see Sawyer has returned, his headphones on as he listens to music rather than what was happening in the room, I manage two final words. "Goodbye, Anastasia."

A/N: More coming soon. And something tells me Christian won't get to wallow in self-pity for long.