Thursday evening arrived more quickly than I could have ever anticipated. I'm nervous and anxious and excited to have dinner with Grace. As I style my hair, I think over the last few days. Since the session with Flynn, things between Christian and me have gone more smoothly than they have in years. He's home from work right around dinnertime, leaves his cell phone in his study so he can spend time with us, and he seems happier. Neither of us has mentioned the upcoming date again. I know he's got something up his sleeve; whenever I look at him when he thinks I'm not paying attention, he's got this glazed expression in his eyes along with a little I've-got-a-secret smile. Saying good night to one another, usually hours after Teddy's gone to bed during which we just sit around talking, is becoming less and less awkward. It's clear to me he would prefer that we were going to bed together, but we both know it's not a good idea right now.

Talking and opening up with one another has gotten easier as well. He's much more willing than he's ever been to share with me the different things he has going on at work. In return, he's been asking me what my plans are now that I'm home. He hasn't really explained what he means by that question, but I think he's trying to ask whether I want to go back to work or not. I haven't really thought about it yet to be honest. Given my most recent experience in the world of publishing, I'm not sure I'm ready to just jump right back into it yet. True, it would be different if I were to return to Grey Publishing. I'd be the one calling the shots. Regardless of how I left England and why, I know I'm stronger this time around. I'm not the same meek girl I was even when I became the supposed CEO of Grey Publishing. Then I was still learning from Christian, uncertain which decisions I could make without taking down the entirety of Grey Enterprises. I made mistakes, but never really got the chance to learn from them and apply that learning to future situations.

I want to keep the independence I managed to gain while in London. I need a life outside my home, outside my husband and son. That's one of the reasons things went so wrong between Christian and me: they were the center of my universe, even when I was so angry with Christian that I could barely see straight. I need to keep my sense of self.

A knock on the bathroom door startles me and I yelp as the curling iron I'm using hits my neck. "Ana!" I hear the tone of panic in Christian's voice. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I set aside the curling iron and glance briefly at the burn on my neck, wincing at how it's already bright red. Resigned to Christian's freaking out over the self-injury, I open the bathroom door, finding him in a pose that suggests he was preparing to break down the door. I smirk at him. "Really?"

He relaxes when he sees I'm on my own two feet. "I didn't know..." His eyes widen as he sees the burn. "Jesus, Ana."

"Christian, it's fine," I insist, gently batting away his hand as it goes to my neck. "It's not the first time and it won't be the last. Relax."

He scowls briefly, then smoothes away the reaction, replacing it with a smile. "Sorry," he mutters. "I didn't mean to interrupt you getting ready. I just wanted to let you know I was home."

I try to hide my smile; his eyes narrow at my attempts and I know he isn't fooled, that he knows I'm laughing at him. "That much was evident," I tease. "You're home earlier than I expected."

Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair. "I wanted to see you before you left for dinner. There's something we have to talk about, but it can wait until you get back if you prefer."

Instantly I'm on guard, all my former amusement fading away. "What is it?" I ask reluctantly.

He matches my reluctance. "Lucy," he bites out warily. I raise an eyebrow to get him to go on, uncertain whether I want to know at all. He sighs. "She's going to trial next week for the kidnapping. My legal team is handling it best they can, but they've advised me that I should go."

My eyes widen, though I'm not sure why; I knew this was a possibility from the beginning. "Are you?" I ask quietly.

"No," he answers softly. "Not unless you want me to. The lawyers have our statements and while normally it would only serve to benefit us, it's not a necessity for us to be present."

Which means he's probably paying several lawyers frightening amounts of money to ensure it's not a necessity, my mind clarifies. "Okay," I respond.

He eyes me speculatively. "Okay?" he repeats cautiously. "What does that mean?"

"It means I trust you to let your legal team handle the situation," I clarify. "I can't be in the same room with her again, Christian. Call me cowardly if you want, but I can't face it."

His brow furrows. "Ana, that's not cowardly," he insists, making a move like he's about to pull me into his arms. He refrains. "I feel the same way. We'll have details of everything that's said, and we'll have this taken care of."

I nod, feeling less playful than before. "I should finish getting ready," I tell him quietly, not meeting his eyes. "I'm supposed to meet your mother in a couple hours." He looks miserable right now and I don't know why. "I'll find you when I'm done."

Nodding, he gives me a tight smile. "I'll be downstairs with Teddy," he mutters before turning and walking away.

Well, this is a great way to start off the evening.

As I dress, it occurs to me we haven't talked about Lucy since our session with Flynn. For Christian to be forced to talk to me about her for any reason is probably terrifying for him. None of our conversations about Lucy have been casual and they always end with both of us upset and me not wanting to speak with him for several hours. It's also one of the first times he's told me about something he knows would upset me without me having to pry it out of him. The old Christian would have kept it to himself rather than sharing for the sake of keeping me safe or for my happiness. He's fighting against everything he knows in order to improve our relationship.

Sighing, I head downstairs to the family room where Christian and Teddy playing quietly on the floor together. I stop for a minute and just watch them, struck by the look of bliss on my husband's face. He's trying to make up for the six months he lost with Teddy. I don't think I'll ever tire of seeing just how much Christian loves his son. If nothing else, I know Christian will do everything in his power to keep them from being separated again. Not that I would put either of them through that again.

Clearing my throat, I enter the room and Christian looks up, a slow smile growing on his face. "You look wonderful," he tells me softly.

I smile back, my face heating up bashfully. How is it after all the time we've known each other and all the times he's made me blush, I can't seem to rid myself of the reaction? "Thank you," I respond, walking around the couch to sit.

Christian joins me a minute later. "So," he says in a drawn out breath, "dinner with my mother."

My eyebrows rise in amusement. "You make it sound like I'm walking into the fiery depths of hell," I tell him quietly.

He snorts a laugh. "That would only be the case if I was joining the two of you," he says wryly. "Are you going to tell her everything?"

I shrug, averting my gaze to watch Teddy. "Haven't decided," I answer. "Would you prefer I didn't?"

"Well, yes," he says bluntly. "But after everything I've put you through, you deserve the opportunity to talk about it with whomever you wish, including my mother."

I nod. "I don't plan on telling her about Elena, if that's what you're worried about." I see him relax significantly. "I think it would be better coming from you, anyway."

He looks at me, panicked. "What?" he whispers hoarsely.

I shrug unapologetically. "I think she needs to know, Christian," I insist. "If she finds out some other way, it's going to be worse and you know it. I'm not saying you have to do it today, but it needs to happen."

Christian stares at me, torn, running his hands through his hair. "Okay," he sighs. "I'll talk to her." I smile gratefully at the lack of argument. "So are you driving yourself?"

He asks the question tentatively as though he's not sure he's allowed to ask. "I thought I would," I answer. "I only plan on going to the restaurant and home, and since Taylor is away, I don't want to take Sawyer..."

His jaw tenses and I'm pretty sure he's biting his tongue against the demand that I take security with me. I think part of me is using this as some sort of test to see whether Christian is truly willing to give me some independence. I wait quietly and patiently while he battles his instincts internally. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, finally looking at me again. "Okay," he agrees quietly. "Just please be careful."

I smile. "I will," I promise. Glancing at the clock, I stand. "I should get going. I don't know how late I'll be, but it'll probably after Teddy's bedtime. Can you make sure he gets his bath?"

He smirks, his eyes dancing in amusement. "I think I can manage giving a four-year-old a bath, Anastasia," he says arrogantly.

I only raise an eyebrow in response. After kissing Teddy goodnight, then the brief uncertain staring contest with Christian, during which be both silently debated whether it was okay to kiss the way we used to when one of us left the house—we seemed to have decided against it—I'm out the door, and almost giddily getting into the Audi R8 I haven't driven in months. God, I missed this car... As soon as I'm out on the open road, I accelerate, grinning like an idiot as I speed towards the restaurant.

Before I know it, I'm handing my keys over to a valet who's looking between me and the car appreciatively. I ignore the reaction, enter the building, and am immediately led towards the back where I see Grace already sitting at a table, waiting. When she sees me, she beams and stands.

"Ana!" Her happiness to see me is a little surprising, considering I only saw her a few weeks ago, but I eagerly return the hug she gives me before we sit down. "Welcome home, dear," she says kindly.

I smile. "Thank you, Grace." While we wait for the waiter to come take our orders, we exchange small talk about nothing in particular, and I know my mother-in-law is just waiting for the moment we can discuss the real reason for our dinner meeting.

The moment arrives sooner than I wanted. "Ana, I cannot tell you how sorry I am," Grace says to me with a rather tortured expression. I'm not sure how to respond, so I let her go on. "When you left, we were all upset. Seeing Christian the way he was, was nearly unbearable, especially since he wouldn't tell us why it was you'd left in the first place. All he would say was that the two of you had a serious disagreement over something and that he deserved to lose you. The rest of us came up with our own reasons why you left, and it did occur to us that Christian might have had an affair, but we never considered it would have come to this."

My brow furrows. "Are you saying I was wrong to leave Christian because he had an affair?" I ask slowly.

Grace's eyes widened. "No, Ana, of course not," she said hastily. "I would have done the same. What I mean is that you and Christian always seemed so absolutely perfect and enviably in love that I didn't think he could do something like this to you."

"That makes two of us," I mutter.

She smiles sympathetically. "Without knowing the real reason why you left, despite our suspicions, my motherly instincts kicked in and I spent weeks at my son's side, trying to comfort him. I was angry with you for reducing him to the state he was in. You're a mother, Ana, and I know you know what it's like to want to see your child happy. You would do anything to end his suffering, no matter the cause. When I asked Mia to invite you to our end of summer party when she picked up Teddy, I did it on Kate's and Mia's insistence. I wasn't sure I could handle having you around after seeing how torn up Christian had been. I asked him first, before I committed to the invite, and for the first time months, I saw the light in his eyes again." She swallowed hard. "Just mentioning your name changed everything for him. I still had no idea why the two of you separated or why you felt the need to leave the country with Teddy, but I didn't want to give up seeing Christian finally getting back to himself."

I knew all along this was what was happening while I was in London. Of course Christian's family would place most of the blame on me; I'm the one who left in the first place, taking away everything he loved most in life: his wife and son. I don't know whether Christian was aware that his family was so angry with me because he hadn't told them the truth, and I can't help but think about how selfish it was of him to seek comfort when he was the one in the wrong.

Typical Christian...

By the time dinner arrived, we'd fallen into an awkward silence and I was regretting agreeing to this outing. I don't know why I'm upset about Grace choosing her son's side over his absent wife who by all counts fled the country with their son for no reason. If it were Teddy in the situation, I'd be on his side without question, no matter how much I liked the wife.

"Ana, I don't want you to think you don't have my support," Grace says quietly. "You do, especially now I know the truth. I love my son very much, more than my own life, but for him to throw away the best thing to ever happen to him..." She shakes her head in what seems like frustration. "When I first met you, Ana, I thought you were some miracle sent from the heavens. The way Christian looked at you, smiled, just seemed more relaxed... He was a completely different Christian and I wanted that to last as long as possible. As wonderful as you were, we feared Christian would mess it up somehow—as far as we knew, you were his first girlfriend." I can't help the smirk that crosses my face; Grace rolls her eyes. "We weren't sure how long you would be around. The night of the Charlie Tango accident, which is still one of the worst nights of my life..." I nod my agreement, "when he finally walked through the door, his eyes were on you, and he saw nobody else, Ana. I don't know if you noticed that night."

Oh, I noticed...

"And the very next night, he was telling me you were engaged." She smiles at me. "You made him so happy, Ana, and I know he did the same for you."

"He did," I agreed. "And I couldn't tell you when it started going south, but when it did, that was all gone."

"But you're working through that?" Grace asked curiously, hopefully.

I sigh. "We're trying," I tell her. "He's being more honest with me now than he's been in a very long time, and as long as he keeps that up, I think we'll be okay." I sigh heavily. Having let her get what she needed to say out, it's my turn. "Grace, I know I could have handled this better, but at the time, I truly didn't see any other option. As it was, I thought Christian was going to follow me, no matter where I went. I'm sorry for taking your grandson away from you; I can only imagine how badly that must have hurt you without having any real explanation for me."

Grace is shaking her head. "You've nothing to apologize for," she said quietly but firmly. "You did what you thought best for you and your son. If it had been me in your shoes, I can't say I'd handle it any differently. Hell, I'm impressed you handled it as well as you did. I love my children, Ana, and there is nothing in this world I wouldn't do for their happiness, but my youngest son can be so thick sometimes. I've always known he'd have incredible potential for success if he applied himself to something positive rather than getting into trouble. I am nothing but proud of everything he's achieved with his business. But when it comes to matters of the heart, I think it's something he's never been able to wrap his head around. I know what he thinks, or what he used to think—that he's incapable of loving and unworthy of being loved. All throughout his childhood, he was distant with Carrick and me. Carrick, especially. We loved him as best we could and as much as he would allow us. We respected his phobia of being touched, knowing it was stemmed from his early abuse. But we were never really able to get through to him. And then Elena..." Grace's voice hardens and she's filled with an anger I recognize immediately: it's the anger of a mother who tried and failed to protect her child. I have the same feelings with Teddy in regards to Lucy. "She took advantage of my baby, taught him all the wrong things about love and sex, and I believe it's because of her Christian was able to have this affair of his without any regard to you or your feelings."

My eyes widen at her words, though probably not for the reasons she believes. She has no idea how right she is...

"I'm certainly not condoning what Christian did and I'm not attempting to make excuses for him. I can only hope that he will somehow prove himself to you and you'll be able to take him back. He's my son, but you're my daughter, Ana. We've missed you and Teddy more than you know, and I am so sorry that you've had to go all this time without some sort of support. Did nobody know the truth?"

I shake my head. "No," I answer softly. "I didn't know how to tell anybody without Christian losing the rest of his family. I guess that was more important to me than telling all of you the truth."

Grace sighs, smiling wryly. "Neither of you ever changes," she says with a quiet chuckle. I raise my eyebrows in question. "Throughout all of this and all the hurt and blame that was going around, your instincts told you to protect each other." I want to ask her what she means, how Christian was "protecting me," but I don't ask. That could mean anything—sending over a security team to keep an eye on Teddy and me; making sure I was safe financially by depositing money in my account at every opportunity. "Now, about this Lucy woman... Where is she?"

My body tenses at the mere mention of her name. "London," I answer shortly. "Awaiting trial."

Grace nods slowly. "Well, with any luck, she'll rot there," she says darkly.

I silently agree. We finish our meals with less tense conversation, share a large slice of chocolate cake, and sip at what's left in our wine glasses. Neither of us has had enough to impair our driving, which surprises me; I thought the conversation topic would have been enough to warrant me drinking an entire bottle on my own... Then again, I don't need reason to put myself into a situation where my safety is being compromised. At this point, the last thing Christian and I need to be doing is fighting, especially over something so obviously boneheaded like driving while intoxicated. Of course, knowing him, I could look outside the restaurant and find at least one member of his security team keeping an eye on things...

When the check arrives, there's a brief argument over who is going to pay. It's only then I learn where Christian gets his patented don't mess with me look. I thank Grace and all but demand we go out again soon, and it would be on me. Or actually on Christian, since my income level has recently become non-existent...

We say goodbye outside the restaurant as the valets pull our cars around and I promise to make time for Christian, Teddy, and me to come to dinner in Bellevue within the next week or so before getting into my car to return home.

I smile a little at how easy it is for me to think of the house on the Sound as home again; I haven't thought that in months. It is, though. Christian and I may be on the very hairy edge of relationship destruction, but my brain (and my heart) still considers wherever he is to be home. I suppose this is a good sign for us.

Or maybe I'm just setting myself up for more heartbreak...

With a sad sigh, my smile slips away from me. I try to focus on my dinner with Grace and how it had gone better than I thought it would. Hopefully my reunion with everyone else goes as smoothly.

Sitting in my study, I'm doing everything possible to occupy my mind until Ana finally returns from dinner with my mother. I'm a little surprised at how nervous I am about this. I know they're talking about what's gone on over the last year, and while I know Ana won't go into all the gory details with Grace, I can only imagine how deeply it's going to hurt her to hear about what I've done. I still remember with vivid clarity the night Grace found out about my affair with Elena. That confrontation had put a damper on what should have been the best night of my life—the night I formally proposed marriage to Ana.

Grace blamed herself for the affair, knowing it had gone on right under her nose. She'd been disappointed in me several times before that—every time I got into a fight at school, resulting in suspension or expulsion, depending on the severity; dropping out of Harvard without even discussing it with my parents; every time I blew off a family function with little or no notice because either I was in busy with work or with a submissive. But none of that even held a candle to the disappointment towards me over Elena. She didn't understand how I hadn't been able to see just how wrong that relationship had been. Of course, she didn't know just how sick and depraved Elena and I were with all the things we had done; if she did, she'd never speak to me again.

There are only two women in the world that have the ability to make me feel unabashedly ashamed of myself: Anastasia Grey and Dr. Grace Trevelyan-Grey. I hate more than anything seeing either of them hurt or upset, but they are the two people I've hurt most in my life. It's because of me my mother has gone so long without seeing her grandson. It's because of me Ana's been reduced to a shell of her former self. I need to find a way to make this up to the both of them and to prove to them I will never let harm come to them again, especially not from me.

Don't make promises you can't keep, Grey, my mind tells me sternly. You promised both of them over and over you'd never see Elena again. You broke that promise. You promised Ana you'd always be faithful to her, to be at her side through good and bad. You broke that promise, too.

I sit back in my chair and fist my hands in my hair. I think I've come up with a way to show Ana just how much effort I'm putting into changing. I don't know whether she'll accept it or not, but she deserves the choice. This might even go a long way in regaining her trust.

I hear the front door open up and my heart rate accelerates, a smile growing on my face. Ana's home. Abandoning my work, I quickly make my way through the house, finding her down in the foyer removing her jacket and shoes. "Hi," I say quietly, trying not to startle her.

She looks up in surprise then smiles herself. "Hi," she says, matching my volume. "How was your evening?"

"Good," I tell her, nodding. "Teddy took his bath, we played for a while, then I read him a story, and he was out like a light." This isn't quite true; Teddy's been a little cranky all evening and threw a tantrum over taking his bath without his mother present, then refused to let me read him his story. Eventually, I just left him to his sulking; he'll be fine in the morning. "How was yours?"

She sighs, giving me a faint smile.

"That good, huh?" I ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Could have been worse," she says evasively. "Suffice to say, you'll probably want to start kissing some serious ass if you want to get back into your mother's good books."

I roll my eyes but nod. "Figured as much," I mutter, gesturing towards the kitchen. "Would you like a glass of wine? There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

Immediately she's suspicious. "It's not about Lucy, is it?" she asks reluctantly, bracing herself.

"No," I assure her. "Not in the slightest."

Still suspicious of my motives, Ana follows me into the kitchen where I go about pouring wine for us and working out how I'm going to bring up the topic of discussion that's on my mind without it starting any sort of argument. That definitely isn't my intention, but it's a topic that's caused strife between us in the past and I fear old habits die hard in this instance.

I sit beside her, handing her a glass and just look at her for a minute. She really is beautiful. It doesn't hurt that the dress she's wearing shows off her perfect, sexy curves. I remember how perfectly my hands fit at her hips, the way she arches her back when I touch her in the way she loves. This of course leads to recalling the sounds she makes and knowing I'm the only man who's ever heard them. I try to furtively adjust my suddenly tight pants. When I check to see whether she's noticed, I find her looking into her wine glass broodingly.

"So I don't know if you've thought about it at all," I begin quietly, drawing her attention, "but I was thinking about what you might want to do about employment. Not that you have to work, of course, if you don't want to. I just know how much you enjoy working and I want to be as supportive as I can this time..."

Her eyes widen in surprise at my words. "Oh," she says, her voice a lilting a touch. "Um, no, not really. I assume Grey Publishing is still around."

"Yes," I confirm with a nod, relieved at her response. "And if that's the route you want to take, I can get started on getting everything arranged. The company is still in your name, but I've had somebody running it for awhile now."

Yeah, let's remind her of the fact that you forced her out of a job she loved only to replace her with a competent yet pretentious jackass who's been trying to worm his way into the job permanently. Fucker's lucky I haven't fired him yet.

"So I would be thrown right back into the CEO position?" she checks.

My brow furrows. "Well, yes," I say as though it's obvious. I kind of thought it was. "It's your job if you want it..."

Anger flashes briefly through her eyes. She wanted it before, but I didn't let her keep it. And here I am offering it to her again on a silver platter. "And if I don't?" she asks.

"Then you don't have to do it," I assure her quickly. "If you still want to do the publishing thing in a lower key position, just say the word and I'll make it happen." I pause. "Or you could always come work for GEH..."

She snorts a laugh. "Yeah, that won't be happening," she mutters sardonically, sipping at her wine. It's a minute or so before she speaks again. "Not to start an argument, but this is one of the things that bothered me so much before I left." My brow furrows in confusion. "The fact that you just offhandedly say things like you'll arrange it or take care of it, like I'm not capable of doing it for myself."

I sigh and close my eyes, trying to push back the reflexive argument in my head. "That's not what I meant," I tell her gently. "I just want to make sure you've got everything you want or that you're looking for. If you don't want me to interfere, I understand and I'll back off. If you want to go a different direction than GP or GEH, I support you one hundred percent. You are fully capable of doing things for yourself, Ana, but I'm here if you need me."

Her thoughts are practically screaming out "it's about fucking time, Grey!" but she manages to hide it well. "I appreciate that," she says sincerely. "Like I said, I haven't really thought it through yet, but I will let you know when I do."

I smile, wondering why we didn't use this communication thing sooner.

You know why, my mind snarls at me. You want to control everything around you to the point she didn't get the chance to share her opinion. And let's be honest, here, Grey: the real reason you wanted her home rather than working full time was because at home you could be sure she was safe and not under the lustful gaze of every horny motherfucker who surrounded her. If she wasn't at work, she wasn't being pulled away from you.

Yeah, cause that worked out brilliantly... I counter, inwardly rolling my eyes. She left anyway, only proving I was wrong in my decision about her job.

I ask her about dinner with my mother to get my thoughts off all the ways I've hurt her over the years.

"It went about like I thought it would," she says flatly with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We didn't get into any real details and the only mention of Lucy was when Grace asked where she is and expressed her wish that Lucy rot in London."

My eyebrows dart up in surprise. Grace isn't normally a woman to wish ill on others, but I know when it comes to her family, all that goes out the window. "I'm glad you were able to get out for an evening."

"Me, too," she says genuinely, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip. I have to fight the urge not to groan and throw her on the counter right this second. "Incidentally, have you decided when our date might be?"

A smile begins to slowly grow across my face. "Perhaps," I say teasingly, narrowing my eyes at her. "You know, if I didn't know any better, Anastasia, I'd say you were looking forward to this date."

She smirks. ""Well, it's a good thing you know better, isn't it, Christian?" she retorts flippantly.

I raise an eyebrow, trying and failing to get the stupid grin off my face. "You and that smart mouth..." I say before draining my wine glass. I look over to find her mouth has dropped open slightly and that she's blushing. Smirking to myself, I take my glass over to the sink, rinse it, and leave it to be washed, deciding to end the night on a good note. "You've have a long day, Mrs. Grey," I tell her quietly. "Perhaps you should get some sleep." I start out of the kitchen, knowing she's staring at me incredulously. "I'll check my schedule and get back to you on that date." I call the words over my shoulder, feeling my smile widen when I hear her surprised laugh.

All things considered, I think we're doing pretty damn well right now. I only hope it lasts this time.