Hello, everyone!

Chapter 12 is finally here! And, my God, it was a hard one to write! 16 pages! Whew!

In this chapter, you won't find much going on. Not much action but a lot of introspection. You'll get inside Ana's head some more and I hope this answers a few questions.

To my fellow Guests who don't agree with Ana in the previous chapter: I see your point of view.

As I've already said, Ana is not a perfect hero waiting to save Christian Grey from his demons and save the day. She's fighting her own and she's bound to throw some hard words around when shit hits the fan. I always found it odd that, in the books, Ana was so pissed at Elena for what she did but she never took it to the next level. Each time she tried to say something to Christian, he would put a stop to it and have sex with her to distract her from the subject. It's the main reason why I wanted this Ana to find out from Elena. So we could see a normal reaction, a little judgement when she's hot headed and some regret when she calms down and sees everything with clarity. How many times has it happened to all of us? Come on, I know I'm not the only one.

As for Christian and him being a victim, you already know I see him as such. It's in the plot summary. But it's more than that. I consider Christian a victim because even after years of therapy, after years of having to talk about his past, he's still stuck in it. That, in my opinion, is what makes him a victim. And what makes Ana a fighter and a victor, is the fact that she has started working on her past and her demons. She's just as broken as he is but she has chosen to fight and heal. She doesn't see herself as superior to Christian (at east that's not the message I wanted to give) but she does get pissed when she realizes that he's not fighting for himself.

And this is the last comment I'll make on this subject because the ANs are getting waaaay too long. Log in or Sign up and we can chat about this in private all you want.

Thank you all for all your amazing reviews, the follows and faves and views!

Enjoy the chapter!


Ch. 12

As soon as I wake up, I go to the bathroom and head straight for the huge tub and fill it with water. I strip and immerse myself in it until my whole body – head included – is under.

I always liked to be underwater, to hear the silence inside my head, to feel the water's caress all across my skin, washing away all my worries and fears and transporting me into a world where everything seems much... calmer. It always soothed my nerves and helped me reach a state of tranquility that very few other things managed to do. This time, however, it's not enough. The water does block all the sounds from the exterior but there's nothing it can do about the noise inside my head. No matter how much I try, I can't reach that point of quiet, of pleasant loneliness.

A few minutes pass until I have to take a breath but I sit there, under the water, until the last possible moment, making my lungs and head hurt. If only those were the only parts of my body that hurt. I think as I find my breath once again. The slight pain in my chest reminds me that I'm still alive, still feeling, still hurting and still healing. I relinquish it.

I spent all day yesterday and the entire morning tossing and turning in my bed. I slept, had nightmares, woke up in a sweat with my heart threatening to break out of my chest. I tried to fall back asleep and eventually succeeded, only to wake up again.

Apply, rinse, repeat. Several times.

Elena's words keep going round and round inside my head and my imagination is starting to get the better of me at this point. I keep imagining him submitting to her will, doing anything she wanted and the punishment that surely followed when he failed to comply when she raised the bar too far up. Why would someone who had already been punished for things beyond his control want to be punished again for failing his Domme who happened to be a soul sucking monster? Why would he seek out that type of punishment? Did he try to channel the guilt from his childhood into his adult life?

Why relive something that would only bring you emotional pain?

That's fifty shades of fucked up. My subconscious offers and I mentally agree. It is a fucked up way of coping with a traumatic childhood. But a way of coping nonetheless. The voice inside my head adds a beat later.

True.

I think back to my own coping mechanism. How I pushed everyone away and resorted to all kinds of substances during my teenage years even though I knew it wouldn't do anything to cure the sadness inside me. How I got close to Paul and ended up almost dead because of that bond… I can't help but think that my initial approach – to stay away from everyone – had been a good decision all along. Or maybe I'm just wrong. I am human, after all.

Our pasts are different, of course, but we did receive love, at some point. I was 'adopted' by my teachers, Ray and Stephen while Christian was adopted by a real family. We got our chance but it turns out, some wounds are too deep to heal. It turns out, we are too fucked up to heal. Or maybe we're just too hurt to see the other side.

I am trying to get over my issues. I am trying to get things, emotions and reactions under control and it isn't easy. Not by a long shot. I have to fight with myself constantly to remind myself that I deserve happiness, that I deserve attention and love. It just seems like the people I pick to give me what I am entitled to get turn out to be nothing but big disappointments. I have to accept that people may hurt me but they may also become an important part of my life.

There is this need, this want, to erase all knowledge of Christian's past. I want to forget that Elena has had her claws deep into him. I want to forget that he's even more screwed up than me. I want to go back to him holding me and promising that no one would ever hurt me. On the other hand, though, I want to forget everything and go back to the girl who locked herself away from everyone and started to feel better.

It's all his fault. My subconscious hisses as she pulls Grey's face in front of my memories. I shut my eyes and rub at them, trying to get his memory far away from me, far away where it will no longer hurt to think of him. I trusted him to tell me something, just like I had told him about my mother and my scars. I was wrong. The one person I've allowed to get inside my head turns out to be the one person that I need to keep out. Bloody awesome!

I try to push thoughts of Christian Grey as far away as possible. It's hard and it takes a lot of energy to steer my thoughts away from recent news. I think back to the day before yesterday and his support, both physical and mental. Was it all just an act? Was it all a lie? Even my subconscious has trouble replying to this question. No matter how much I try, I can't shake away the warmth that I felt inside while I was in his arms, when his lips were upon mine.

Such a troubled soul... just like me.

"I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and two loving parents. I'm not interested in extending my family beyond that."

His reply from the interview has me going round in circles. If his family consists only in his parents and siblings, where does Elena fit into this picture? How did she manage to sink her claws into him? If he couldn't bear to be touched – if he still can't bear to be touched – how does he fill that void? Touch is very important to someone's emotional and mental health and he's probably lived all his life without a comforting touch. I can't help but wonder how that must be like.

Stop! Stop Now! - My subconscious is metaphorically screaming at me, arms folded, leaning on one leg and tapping her foot in frustration. Get out of the tub, out of the room and forget about him... Now! And stop all this self-pitying, wallowing crap.

By the time I emerge from the bathtub, my skin is wrinkled and my head is hurting like it's about to split open. Probably from the double personality that I seem to be suffering from... I think sourly as I go back to all the times the voice inside my head made much more sense than my conscious mind.

I put on some comfortable clothes and emerge from my self-imposed exile. Luke is nowhere to be seen and I mentally breathe out a sigh of relief. The last thing I need right now is for him to observe me as he usually does.

Natalie seems surprised to see me when I step in the kitchen and plop down on a chair.

"Feeling better, Mademoiselle?"

I can tell by the tone of her voice that it's more than chit-chat. Natalie has become Luke's right arm in this house. Goodie! Another person to keep their eyes on me.

Biting back a snort, I slowly shake my head 'no'. The only thing that could make me feel better would be to erase the past month from my memory and never think of it again. But I have this habit of over-thinking and analyzing each insignificant detail. One day, it's going to do more than just wreck my nerves.

"There are people who'd say I don't have a heart."

"Why would they say that?"

"Because they know me well."

Christian's words circle me and I can't help but ask myself why didn't I see it coming? Just like with Paul, I never seem to just... see until it's too late. Until I was kidnapped. Until my trust was broken again.

Damn him!

I look at Natalie. What is going on through her mind? I know that she knows about Elena. She probably heard her screams. She probably heard my screams. And here she is, calm as a cucumber, making me a breakfast I don't think I can stomach.

"How much did you hear from my argument with my mother?" I ask Natalie as I try to eat something from the plate she put in front of me.

"Very little. Your private life is private, Mademoiselle." She replies as she looks straight into my eyes.

I nod and manage to swallow another bite of food. At this rate, I'm going to turn thirty before eating everything on this plate.

"How much did you hear from my discussion with Elena Lincoln?"

I watch as Natalie tenses, her muscles locking into place as her eyes turn away from mine. In moments such as this one, I'm curious to see what's going on through her mind. What is her take on all the crap she heard yesterday? What would be the take of a normal person on this fucked-up situation?

"Your conversation with Mrs. Lincoln is none of my concern, Mademoiselle."

"Did you hear all of it?" I continue to probe her.

"Yes." Natalie replies as she hangs her head as if she were ashamed. "I heard shouting and Monsieur Sawyer was nowhere to be seen. I thought... I thought she was going to hurt you, Mademoiselle. I..."

"You came to make sure I was okay." I finish for her when it's clear she's too emotional to finish her sentence.

"Yes." Natalie whispers and nods at the same time. "I haven't told anyone, Mademoiselle. I would never do such a thing." She rushes to add.

"I know you won't." I reply and sigh as I rub a hand over my face. "Luke would have your head on a platter. I'm sure he already made you aware of that."

"He did. But his warning was not necessary. I would never betray your trust, Mademoiselle."

And there's that word again: trust.

I stare at her for a bit but my mind is miles away. The destination is downtown Seattle, in GEH, where he is. Unaware that I know, unaware of the feelings raging inside me, unaware that the bridges are burning. I wonder what would he do if he found out that I know his deepest, darkest secret?

Unlike Christian Trevelyan-Grey, I have not signed any NDA. It would be so easy to let the information spread like wildfire, to bring him down to his knees. But even if I were angry enough to do it, there would still be that small voice in the back of my head, telling me to stop and think it through, to put myself in his position. So I push away those thoughts. Christian Trevelyan-Grey has earned his money through hard work and intelligence. It's the part of his life that he deserves. The other part is still open for debate.

"Mademoiselle?"

Natalie's voice brings me back into the kitchen. She's looking at me with a foreign emotion in her eyes.

"On ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. C'est vrai ce que vous avez ecrit, Mademoiselle?"

"Oui. C'est vrai, Natalie." I reply softly as I touch the ink writing on my skin.

"Et qu'est-ce que votre coeur dit?"

It says that it chose to look further than his demons.

I think back to all those moments, to all those feelings, to those goosebumps, to the feeling of something more beneath his pristine façade... in a way, I did know it. I did see his darkness. And I chose to look beyond that. My heart wanted to see something more. Did I delude myself into thinking that or was it the truth?

"I'm hurt."

My voice cracks at the last word that leaves my lips as tears roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away hastily and try to reign the rest of them in. Natalie reaches across the table and grabs my left hand. Her warmth is comforting.

"It's easy to let the anger speak, Anastasia. It's much easier than feeling the sadness and sorrow and hurt. That doesn't make it right. It only makes it easier."

"I want to hate him." I whisper as I peer up from our joined hands into her eyes. I find understanding there, and a bit of sadness. It eases the pain in my chest a bit.

"You like him, Mademoiselle. I say take your time and think about this."

Just as I'm about to reply, Luke comes in, looking a little distressed.

"Ana, William is here. He wants to talk to you."

A few minutes pass until I reply. At this point, I only have two options.

Option #1: get mad at Luke for summoning Will, start screaming and waste my energy before bowing my head and following Luke out of the kitchen.

Option #2: don't take it like I'm a child and everyone takes decisions that concern me without any input from my side and follow Luke out of the kitchen.

Guess which one I took.

I've been on the outside terrace, on the edge of the koi pond for at least ten minutes and I've yet to say something to break the silence. I greeted Will, took a seat and proceeded to keep my mouth shut.

Great plan so far. My subconscious snaps and crosses her arms in front of her. Obviously, she wants to talk. If only I could find my words. I think as I watch the fish as they swim in their small universe. How simple their life must be! Just swim, eat and enjoy your corner of the Universe. How I would love nothing more than to spend the rest of my life underwater, far away from all the noise around me. But there's the noise inside my head that I wouldn't be able to escape anyway.

You can't escape your demons no matter how much you try, Anastasia. You have to own them. My subconscious whispers, a sad edge to her voice. To my voice.

"Luke has insisted that we have a little chat, Ana. He has informed me about the recent events and I agree with him. Talking will get some of the burden off. Would you like that?"

William's gentle coaxing has me offering him a sad smile as I think back to everything that has been going on in the past few days. I never seem to catch a break ever since I've met Christian Trevelyan-Grey. Could that be a sign to stay away from him?

"I had a panic attack on Sunday." I whisper and watch Will 's reactions carefully.

William nods his head slightly, signaling that he already knows about this, and leans forward, towards me, towards my personal space. I resist the urge to draw back a bit.

"What triggered it?"

I pause for a moment before answering, afraid of his reaction.

"Christian grabbed my head as he kissed me. I had a flash from..." I trail off and squeeze my eyes, pushing away the images.

"Was it new?"

"Yes." I whisper.

"How often do you have these flashes?"

"Not too often."

"Are they only from when you were drugged?"

"I think so... they're not very clear but my emotions become erratic."

Will nods and writes something down on his notepad.

"How did you make it stop?"

"Christian did. He coached me out of it." He got me in it. He got me out of it.

"How did that make you feel?"

"What does it matter? It stopped. Wasn't that the goal?"

"So far, the only other person, except for me, who has been able to get you out of it is Christian Grey. I believe this is more important than you let on, Anastasia."

I nod but I don't reply. It takes a while before I'm able to say anything but, as always, Will is patient and in no rush.

"It doesn't matter now. It's over."

My voice sounds foreign even to my own ears as I say the words out loud.

"The opposite of love is not hate. The opposite of love is indifference. You are not indifferent, Anastasia."

"I was not in love with him." I hiss through my clenched teeth as I look away from Will, away from his probing and calculating eyes.

"Then what was it?"

"I don't see how this is relevant."

"Humor me."

He's not letting this one go, Anastasia! Give him what he wants. My subconscious whispers and I end up giving in to the voice inside my head.

"I liked him." I whisper and play with my fingers, aware that Will is watching me like a hawk. I liked him more than anyone yet. I liked the feeling I had when I was in his arms, how complete and calm my world was when he touched me, how that electricity seemed to bring my heart back to life. I mentally add but refrain from speaking all of this out loud. Saying it would only increase my pain right now.

"More than Nicholas Perry?"

"Maybe." I say with a small shrug. Maybe you meant to say definitely. My subconscious adds with a snicker.

"I see..." He trails off as he continues to write down in his notepad. I'm starting to lose my patience and we've barely started this session. And it's not even Will's fault. It's all because of me, because I can't seem to unify myself, to accept my feelings. I say one thing out loud and say a completely different thing inside my head. Surely that's not a sign of someone healthy?

"Tell me about your conversation with Elena Lincoln. How was it to see her after all these years?"

"It made me understand why I couldn't stand the sight of her from the beginning." I hiss as I think back to that monster. It took everything in me not to kill her, to rid this world of all the filth she brings!

"Luke told me you strangled her and left bruises on her neck."

Oh, yes! We remember those. My demons whisper and rub their hands, satisfied with their handiwork.

"Maybe she got off too easy." I whisper but Will catches it anyway.

"What makes you entitled to give out the punishment if that is the case?"

My eyes snap back to his and I'm transported back to our previous session in downtown Portland where I told him about Paul and my near panic attack. When he told me that no one hads the right to judge anyone.

"That woman is evil."

"And, yet, evil exists on this Earth. We all serve a higher purpose."

"She hurt him." I hiss as I try to reign in my anger.

"She's not the first to do so. Would you also go after the man who abused him as a child and strangle him too? Or his mother, for not protecting him? Or the man who is his father and he never got to meet? How far would you take it, Anastasia?"

I swallow and meet his eyes.

"As far as I'm able."

I know it deep within my heart that it's true. He hurt me but all I can think of are those that hurt him. I must really be fucked up!

"But you don't love him." Will adds with his eyebrows raised and a small smile on his lips. That smug face makes me want to punch something. I look away.

"If I ever did, it's gone now."

"So you keep saying." Will adds and writes something down on his notepad. The page is starting to fill. Soon enough, he'll have to turn the page if he'll want to write some more. "It's only normal to be hurt by something like this. If he would have told you this, you would have reacted differently. Your reaction is mostly due to the fact that Elena Lincoln was the one to tell you this. It's because she knew and you didn't that you did what you did. It's because of you being left in the dark that you're trying to push him away. It's because of that feeling of hurt and surprise that you haven't told him yet about your conversation with Elena Lincoln. Am I right?"

I stare at him, unable to say anything that could make sense even to me.

"You have many feelings to sort through, Anastasia. It's to be expected. You've grown attached to a man who could very well have the power to bring you down to your knees with a simple word. You have similar backgrounds, similar situations, similar triggers. You know him on a level that he probably doesn't even know himself. He's in a fragile state now. Don't judge him. Give him the tools he needs to make his own informed decisions. Give him the power to rule his life, like you're trying to do. And then... move on. You have a journey of your own."

"What about my state? What about my feelings of hurt and betrayal and confusion and sorrow? What about me? It's not like I have everything figured out. All my life, I've lived without the nurture of a mother, without the love of those around me. I've made a ton of mistakes and very few friends. Actually, let me rephrase that: I've made three friends. One is dead, the other is a former lover and the third one is halfway across the planet! So I ask you: what about me?"

By the end of my tirade, I am shouting at the top of my lungs.

"You need to keep fighting, Ana. Whether your paths will cross again or not, you have the duty towards yourself to get better. To be better. You're not a winner because you've conquered all of your demons but because you've chosen to acknowledge the fact that you have them to begin with. Because you've started facing them and healing."

William's soothing voice brings my heart rate back down once again and I take a seat, once again, at the edge of the koi pond, lost in thoughts about Paul, Nick and Sam. I feel so alone, so... abandoned. And I'm the only one to blame.

"Ana?" Will's voice pulls me out of my thoughts and my blurry vision of him gives away the feelings inside me.

"Yes." I whisper, a few moments later, after I've regained some sort of control over my emotions.

"It's very easy to look in you neighbor's garden and point out what they're doing wrong. But that's not you. You deal with your own. You work on your own issues. What changed?"

"I can't... I thought that we could... that I could..."

I'm struggling to find the right words that can describe the mess inside my head and I'm failing horribly. I'm just too over the place to pinpoint what is going on inside my head, inside my heart. My trust and heart have been broken.

Minutes of silence pass as William looks at me with a patience.

"Disappointment is a part of life. Tell me, do you think this will be the last disappointment you will ever encounter?"

"No."

"Yet, you focus on it more than you did on other occasions. What's different about this?"

"I thought... he knew about my past... well most of it anyway. So I thought he would be honest about his, that if he chose to take this further – and he did – he wouldn't leave me in the dark like this."

"Could it be that your anger is misdirected? Could it be that the real reason why you're so angry on him for keeping something so painful and raw away from you is because Elena Lincoln has had unlimited access to it while you haven't?"

I keep silent and look out to the edge of the back garden.

"Think about that, Anastasia."

"You're defending him." I say, an edge to my voice that wasn't there before.

"I'm merely pointing out the flaws in your reasoning. Christian Grey is not my patient. You are."

"I gave him what he wanted. I showed him a part of me that no one else knew about except those who were involved in..." I stop and take a deep breath. My feelings of hurt and betrayal are too painful to handle.

"He pushed you in a direction you were afraid to go. Granted, it could have backfired but it also made you see just how much you can push before it becomes too much to handle. Consider it an experiment. Experiments are important because one doesn't fear failure. If an experiment fails, you gain precious knowledge from that. You've gained knowledge from your experiments with Christian Grey. Don't make the mistake of overlooking that."

"He lied." I hiss.

"He won't be the last to do so. We all lie."

I look away. He knows I know that he's right. It doesn't make it easier to swallow, though.

"Tell me about Carla's visit."

"I said some mean but true things. I regret them."

Ever since I had my screaming match with my mother, I've been plagued by thoughts about her. It's only been two days but they have been filled with guilt. Even though everything I said was true and is exactly how I feel about her and my relationship with her, I can't help but feel as though I've done something wrong.

I've said things to my mother that no child should ever say.

"The only victories which leave no regret are those which are gained over ignorance. Napoléon Bonaparte. What do you think he meant by that?" Will asks.

"That it's better to be stupid?"

"Maybe. Or maybe the fact that as long as we think about things and their consequences, we will always regret a part of our actions, no matter how right we thought we were at the moment."

"Do you think I was right?"

"I think it was time for you to let go of that burden. Speaking your mind, giving your mother insight over everything that you have been going through was a necessary step. If it's good or bad for her, that's on her."

"What if I've pushed her away for good?"

I had been thinking about this question ever since my mother left, escorted by Luke. I keep second guessing my decision to let it all out, to show her what she's done. She never chose to see but was it my responsibility to throw it into her face?

"You cannot control her, Anastasia. Her actions are her own."

"You don't seem to care about the consequences too much." I note with a bitter edge to my voice.

"The only reason why we're discussing your mother is because you are tied to her. You still love her, you still hope for a change. You haven't given up. It's your main... characteristic." Will says with a small smile on his lips as he stares at me affectionately.

"I think you meant to say flaw."

"Some may think of it that way. Do you think it's a flaw?"

"Sometimes."

Will smiles.

"It's good to question our beliefs from time to time, Anastasia. It shows that we are willing to accept changes. Have you changed? Are you ready to give up on your mother?"

"I don't think I could even if I wanted to. She's my only flesh and blood that's still alive."

"Are you giving up on Christian Grey?"

"I don't know. I think he's given up on himself a long time ago, though. In our interview, he said that he had no heart. It doesn't seem like something someone who has a will to heal would ever say. It made me wonder."

"What has changed since you've found out about Christian Grey's past?"

Many things have changed. I mentally reply as I look at the fish once again. It made me realize just how sheltered I've been, in spite of everything I've gone through in the past year. Having Stephen Clayton as your step-father does have its perks. Including being kidnapped by his son. My subconscious is quick to point out with an arctic tone.

I suppress a shiver and try my best not to go back to those memories.

"My wish to get close to anyone has perished."

"You intend to live the rest of your life in solitude?"

"It would make everything easier."

Natalie's words echo through my head. That doesn't make it right.

"Not long ago, you were a fighter. Do you want to revert back into that fearful girl that I met a year ago?"

"No."

"Then, please tell me how this is going to work. You want to isolate yourself. I can understand that. Everyone needs peace and quiet from time to time. However, when it's more than that, you enter dangerous territory, Anastasia. Your history with depression, self-medication and that one time of -"

"I'm not going to do that again!" I cut Will off before he has a chance to speak about that and bring back old and painful memories.

"How can you be sure? What if your episode will be so bad that the only way out will be that? Who will be there if you choose to keep everyone and everything away?"

"I'll take care of it."

A moment of silence settles over us. Will has a pensive look on his face, probably thinking of at tactic to make me see things differently. To be honest, it's what I like best about him. He knows when to take it to the friend territory and when to revert back to William Hughes, PhD.

"Anastasia... I am only looking out for your best interest. Ever since Christian Grey has entered the scene, your stress levels have risen. Many would say that is a bad thing. I disagree. Christian Grey challenges you, he triggers images and memories that need to be triggered. Locking everything away is not the answer. We need to work on your memories, your triggers, your emotions, your addictions. If you isolate yourself, you'll only push them away, not resolve them."

"I'm fine." I hiss and scrub my hands over my face. Could we just stop talking about all this?

"Of all the adjectives I would correlate with you, fine is not the one. You're better but keep in mind that better can always turn into worse if you're not careful." Will points out with a detached voice.

"So what do you suggest? Everything you're telling me now isn't something new. You've told me this time and time again, drilling it into my head until I have no choice but to do what you ask of me." I snap and throw my hands up in frustration. "You know how I feel about everything and you know exactly where to push to get the results you want. What more do you want? I'm a recovering addict. My emotions are all over the place and there are times when the only way to get myself under control is to swim 200 laps until everything inside my aches and begs for me to stop. When I'm mad, I say and think things I shouldn't. I know I shouldn't judge Grey. But all this hurt has to turn into something. I chose anger instead of sadness. Is it easier? Hell yes! Is it right? Maybe not."

Will rises an eyebrow and I go back on my sentence.

"Okay... it's not right. But what are the odds of someone as screwed up as me to make the right decision from the first take? Everyone demands perfection. Patricia wants me to stay out of the public eye. Stephen wants me to take over his empire and be the perfect step-daughter. Elizabeth wants me to dress perfectly each time I'm out and about. Luke wants me to stay out of compromising situations and make his life easier. My mother wants money. You want me to heal and be a normal person. When is it going to stop?"

"What do you want, Anastasia?"

William's question brings my thoughts to a screeching halt.

"I don't know." I whisper.

"How can we find out?" He asks and leans on his forearms.

"I don't know."

My answer brings a sad smile on his lips.

"Anastasia, I'm not here to impose my will over you. I don't want to make you my puppet. Everything I do here is for your own good. Am I pushing you too hard sometimes? Yes. Do I do it for my own good? No. I do it for you. Everything I 'drill into your skull' is something that should have been there in the first place. I'm here as your guide, as your doctor, as your friend. But I cannot be someone who just sits by and watches as you fall off the edge of the cliff. My job is to steer you away from the edge of that cliff."

"I'm tired."

"Fighting your inner demons is never easy. Keep that in mind the next time you think about Christian Grey."

"But he's not fighting!" I shout and close my mouth like a petulant child when Will throws me a stern look.

"That's his business. Not yours."

"Then why did you ask me if I wanted to give up on him?"

"No man is an island, Anastasia. Not even you. Not even Christian Grey. You've grown attached to him in such a short period of time and, to be honest, it's making me rethink everything when it comes down to your ability to form ties to those around you. Your attraction to Christian Grey is a sign that you're beginning to heal on that front. Take pleasure in your victory and see where it takes you."

"You're telling me I shouldn't push him away?"

"I'm merely suggesting that you be honest with him and see where that leads you. You're not in the unknown here. You've been where he is, haven't you?"

"Yes."

"But he hasn't. Maybe that's the reason behind this gravitation towards you."

"What if I find that the only reason he got close to me was to make me his sub?" I say, voicing out my main concern.

"You're always free to go, Anastasia. You're not locked up in a house with someone without the option to leave. You are free. Make use of your freedom and make choices. Make mistakes. Learn from them and try again. It's your life and it could be so beautiful! Accept the grief, the hurt, the pain, the happiness, joy, love... and move on. Let it in. Learn from it. And let it go. Don't let the sadness define you because you aren't sadness, nor darkness."

I'm not darkness.

"Let your heart guide you. It's rarely wrong."


Where will Ana's heart guide her? You shall find your answer this week (depending how fast I can send this to Manal).

Thanks for reading!

~V