Fifty Shades of Secrets

Chapter 26: Fifty Shades of Aftermath

Anastasia Steele,

I hissed as Dr. Brandt swiped another layer of antiseptic on my sliced forearm, an unfortunate reminder of my blurry afternoon. Brandt's impeccable bedside manner put me at ease after getting back to Christian's apartment, even if he did devote twenty minutes to twisting and testing my aching ankle. His pearly white smile coaxed me into a sense of security, so I minimized my whining just to hold onto it.

"Good news, Miss Steele. No stiches are needed," he reassured me, "Once we bandage you up, you can get some much-needed rest. While I see no signs of broken bones, I'd feel safer with x-rays to prove it. Tomorrow morning, I'd like it if you came to the office for some tests and to go over your further care. I have already called in some pain medication, nothing too strong but enough to ease your discomfort."

"Thanks," I tried to politely smile, despite the stinging in my arm.

I didn't want to think about the bill attached to Dr. Brandt's emergency visit to Christian's apartment. As soon as Taylor got me through the front door, Dr. Brandt was waiting politely in the living room, and with Taylor's help, he escorted me to the master bedroom and began to evaluate my post-psycho state. I didn't know who called the doctor or where Taylor went afterwards.

Then again, I didn't know anything about today.

I didn't know anything about Leila except for (presumably) her name and her relationship with Christian. I didn't know how she knew me or the details of my sleeping arrangements. I didn't know what happened to her after I left my building. I didn't know why Taylor left so quickly or why he was there in the first place. Hell, I didn't know if Leila got away, which was a terrifying thought.

When I pushed Taylor for details, he offered me a glass of water and another blanket, and ultimately, he disappeared altogether. I'd expected him to push me in return. I thought that, by now, I would have recounted my story until I was blue in the face. Why I hadn't was a mystery, but I rationalized that I deserved time to process. And I wondered if my allotted processing time had more to do with Christian's absence than my emotional wellbeing.

But I didn't want time to process. I was already thinking too much about it. When the haze of excitement and terror settled, the reality came into focus. Teddy could have been there before me. If Essie had accepted my offer and left early, I would have walked into that apartment with Teddy. At minimum, he could have been dropped like our dinner as I fell. Leila could have injured him or worse. She could have killed me and left my son motherless. She could have killed Christian. She could have killed herself in the middle of my kitchen. Or maybe she wouldn't have anything without me provoking her. I might have pushed her to violence. Until I attacked her, that blade never touched me, and maybe if I'd remained calm and sensible, it never would have. But how could I expected to keep calm like that?

With too many possibilities, it was hard to focus in on what did happen, and I found myself obsessing until I finally accepted it. I let my guard down and found a mentally unstable, armed woman in my apartment. There thousands of questions to be asked. Why was Taylor there? Did she get away? Who the fuck was Leila? It was ugly, and I was unprepared. But I had to live with it. I had to cope and understand it to the best of my ability. But in all honestly, I just wanted to back a few hours to when my largest worry was Essie's odd behavior and which cartoon to watch first.

"Okay, that should be it," Dr. Brant squeezed my knee carefully, a gesture that would have been reassuring had I not bruised my knee earlier. "You have my card, and I left my contact information with your assistant. Do not hesitate to call me should you need to, and remember, I expect bed rest. It would be wise for you to stay home when possible and particularly avoid high heels with that ankle."

"How strict of bedrest?" I asked, dreading the answer. I didn't want to be confined to a bed with my thoughts and minor injuries to keep me company. I wanted to go check on Teddy, who I'd painfully avoided. I'd called Essie from the car in a fit of panic and had probably scared her half to death after I ordered she keep Teddy away from the old apartment and take him home.

Since then, I'd been assured that Teddy was safe, but despite his proximity, I stayed in bed. I didn't want him to see me battered and bleeding, but now that I was bandaged and feeling stable, I needed to be with Teddy. I didn't care if everyone assured me he was alright. I was his mother and needed to see it with my own eyes.

"As I said, working from home would be best. Sparingly get up, Miss Steele. If you do have a fracture, excessive movement may further your discomfort," I could tell he didn't trust me to stay in bed, and I didn't blame him. I'd been practically begging to get up since I sat down.

"I'll keep that in mind," I didn't want to lie, so I just smiled.

With a final unconvinced smile, Dr. Brant collected his supplies and left, and once his footsteps faded down the hall, I was alone for the first time in hours. Without Curtis over my shoulder or Brandt prodding my injuries, I stumbled out of bed. My ankle, while sore, was strong enough to get me across the room with minimum bitching. But that didn't stop me from blanching at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

Blood irrevocably stained my white shirt, and what wasn't covered in dirt from my fall was defiled by sweat. When the clothes were off, the forming bruises turned me into a patchwork quilt of black and blue. My cheeks were pink with effort and blotchy from tears. I was one big mess that was desperate for a shower, and after I got the water nice and scalding, I stood under the heat and washed the afternoon off. I scrubbed until the memories faded or my skin ran out of layers, whichever came first.

No matter how tempting my bed was, I was determined to get dressed, shove my hair into a ponytail, and get to Teddy. Surprisingly, the apartment was seemingly empty. The halls were void of Curtis's panicked phone calls and Taylor's silent enforcement. Nonetheless, I found myself creeping through the hallway, practically on my tippy toes. I feared running into someone aware of my bedrest orders and being nagged into further rest.

Even though I could hear giggles behind Teddy's bedroom door, the panic mounted in my chest until my heart nearly stopped as I waited for the door to fully open. And there he was… Perfectly happy, perfectly alright, and perfectly Teddy.

"Mommy!" Teddy abandoned his toy train set when he saw me, and he promptly sprinted into my arms. Whether from the pain meds, the adrenaline drop, or the fall, I grunted with the effort of picking him up.

"My baby boy," I smoothed his hair, hugging him as close to me as possible. I took a deep breath of my wonderful, apple-juice-scented son and blocked out everything but him. Leila hadn't hurt him. Fuck, she hadn't even seen him in person, yet there was still an elephant sitting on my chest, terrified and reminding me to not let my guard down ever again. Pulling away, I looked at Teddy and traced a heart on his chubby cheek, "You've had a good day?"

Teddy's eager nod sent his curls flying as he explained, "We went to the library!"

"Wes, we did," Essie's squeaky voice surprised me, making me clutch Teddy closer instinctively. When I looked up, Essie was sitting on the edge of Teddy's rocking chair, her foot tapping in a fury of nervous energy. Understandably, she was shaken, and regrettably, she was terrible at hiding it. At least I could surmise that another rendition of the story was unnecessary. Before I could attempt a response, Essie launched into it, "You called and said to not take him to the apartment, and I didn't know what to do. So, we went to the library. Then, that guy-Taylor, I think- ordered me to come here, and he told me… Well, did that all really happen?"

Essie was a jumble of emotions, and I wasn't sure I'd ever been so mad at her.

"Thank you for taking care of him, Essie," I kissed Teddy's forehead, "Yes, it did, but everything is good now. I'm sorry you had to stay so late. I promise, overtime." Part of me hoped she'd bolt at the first chance so I could focus exclusively on Teddy, but guilt or distress - or maybe a paycheck-bound her to her chair.

"You're… okay?" Essie was stunned by my response, and for a moment, I felt guilty for being so livid. Despite her inappropriately real response, she was concerned, but I didn't want concern. I just didn't want Teddy to know.

And his big, blue eyes filled with alarm as he looked up at me, and the guilt evaporated. Resisting the urge to glare at Essie for peaking his interest, I focused on Teddy, "Of course, Mommy is okay. I pinky promise," I offered my pinky and beamed as his tiny little finger wrapped around mine.

"But-" Essie didn't want to give up, and I wanted to kill her.

"Essie, it's all good. We can talk about the apartment later. Right now, why don't we talk about that thing you brought up earlier?" I insisted a bit more forcefully, carefully putting Teddy down.

"Maybe tomorrow," Essie murmured, "I can stay the night if you need me. You probably need some sleep. I'm… I'm gonna grab some water."

I nodded agreement and took a deep breath when she finally left Teddy's bedroom. I wanted to screw the bed rest orders, but holy hell, I was tired. I sat on the edge of Teddy's toddler bed and disguised my exhaustion with a smile convincing enough for a two-year-old. "Did you have fun at the library?"

It was clearly the right question because he nodded so fast I thought his curls would fly off his head, and he practically sprinted over to his Thomas the Train backpack. Even as I watched him, I couldn't shake the fear and reminded myself of the positive outcomes to force it away. Teddy didn't know about Leila and never needed to, and he was fine. Sure, he was getting close to bedtime but was fine. The finality of tonight refused to settle in. Fuck, how could it not be final?

" I got a book!" Teddy interrupted my whiny inner monologue with a color children's book, one of the few we hadn't read together. We'd combed through almost every children's book in a tristate area, but Teddy was forever eager for more (and just as eager to stay up past his bedtime to finish it)..

With Teddy under my arm, I relaxed as much as possible in Teddy's tiny toddler bed and started to read. He was entranced with the tale of Mr. Puppykins and Ms. Kittystein and their scavenger hunt to the party Mrs. Hamsterving planned in the park, and I was just as captivated by him. Just as Mr. Puppykins found the ice cream party waiting for them, someone interrupted us.

"Hello?"

Holy shit. Christian.

"Daddy!" Teddy jumped out of bed gracefully, running out of his bedroom to the source of the voice. I, on the other hand, fell off of the bed and broke my fall with an oversized teddy bear. Abandoning the book, I followed Teddy down the hallway to the entryway. And there he was.

The mercurial man. Anger, surprise, and a multitude of emotions swirled in his grey eyes, and for once, I didn't want to decipher them. I just wanted him here, and he was really here. There were no complications to impede or no unnecessary power struggles. And I'd never loved him more.

"Anastasia." One word, and I couldn't hold back. I didn't care he was already holding Teddy, who I wanted to treat like glass. I didn't care about his rules. I didn't care about anything other than the protection his grasp offered. For once, I wanted to be the girl Christian took care of, and I only melted further when he whispered, "Are you alright?"

No.

"Yes," I nodded cautiously, "I will be."

Even as I said it, I knew it wasn't the right answer for Christian.

"At least Teddy wasn't there," Christian's remarks should have comforted me, but… how did he know that? Right, Taylor would have called him.

"He wasn't…" I agreed. Ice prickled at my skin, urging me to pay attention. Taylor could have told him the circumstances, of course, and I was sure he had. But it would have been one hell of a coincidence for Taylor to casually be in my apartment building (which was hundreds of miles from his home and employer) and happen to be present when a psychopath broke into my apartment.

Christian turned silent, and I followed his gaze to the bruise peeking out of my tee shirt. He placed another protective kiss to my forehead and squeezed my hip. "Mommy and I need to talk, and you need a bath, young man."

Teddy pouted after the bath announcement, and Christian was smart enough not to put him down before Essie could take him. If Essie hadn't been holding him, Teddy would have taken off through the apartment in search of a hiding place to avoid the big, bad bathtub.

For hours, I'd waited for Christian to arrive, but now that he was here, I realized that my expectations were undefined. Was I supposed to launch into the horrific details? Was I supposed to ask questions and satisfy my many building curiosities? Was I supposed to stay silent and just revel in his comforting presence? I wanted to do them all and none of them at the same time. The only thing I could firmly decide on was that I needed him here.

"Are you alright?" Christian repeated the question and looked at me as if I were glass, sympathetically placing a hand on my cheek and searching my expression. He was treating me just as I was treating Teddy, though with different goals. I didn't want Teddy to have to talk about it, but Christian wanted me to.

"Yes," I nodded, "Sore. Fair warning, my body has turned an unflattering shade of purple." Humor. I picked humor to cope and delivered it with lighthearted, friendly sarcasm. But I'd started to shake. I was like a terrified Chihuahua in Christian's arms, waiting for Leila to pop back up and ruin my life.

She knew I slept in Christian's bed… I quickly chastised myself for the reminder and thought of every lock and security guard Leila would have to get past to have seen us in bed. It had to be an assumption. Perhaps she'd always wanted to sleep in his bed and manifested that dream onto me.

"You're a terrible liar, Anastasia," a smile prickled at Christian's lips.

"Are you asking for proof of my purple body? If so, I'm not sure that's what the doctor meant when he told me to stay in bed," I was relieved that Christian wanted to play along, but by the slightest shake of his head, I knew he didn't.

"I don't doubt your new skin color, though I do doubt anything could unflatter you, Miss Steele. You are not alright, and you don't have to be," Christian was remarkably calm as he wrapped me in the tightest hug I could imagine, and while nestled into his sports coat, I listened to his pounding heartbeat and realized the illusion. Christian wasn't calm, and this hug wasn't just for me. His lips brushed along the top of my ear as he whispered, "Now, did I hear something about violated bedrest orders?"

Shit.

"I'm not going to bed. I need to be with Teddy. He-He could have been there, Christian. Teddy was supposed to walk in with me. She knew who he was. She could have hurt him," I buried myself further into Christian's chest, and his hand traced the curve of my back as he listened. When I peeked him at him, I saw the familiar expression of deep concern, and through his eyes, I could understand what everyone else saw when they looked at me.

I wasn't me. This wasn't me. I was a nervous, traumatized wreck that was seemingly on the edge. The slightest push could tip me in either direction, launching me into God-Knows-What. Not only was I made of glass, I was already showing fucking cracks. PTSD had me cowering in my own living room.

"Bed," Christian whispered, the worry growing stronger by the moment.

"Only for a little bit," my weak body betrayed me. The idea of standing up for too much longer made my muscles ache, and I reasoned that a small nap wouldn't do any harm.

There was something pathetic and heartwarming about Christian helping me back to the master bedroom. I hated the idea of not being able to take care of myself (and that Christian might be right about fractures being a strong possibility), but I loved that he wanted to help me. When my pace slowed, Christian's insistence on carrying me to bed was romantic and incredibly hard to deter. In fact, the only way I could prevent him throwing me over his shoulder was to talk.

"Thank you for coming," I blurted out.

Christian stopped in his tracks, knitting his eyebrows together in genuine offence. "Anastasia, how could I not come?"

"I didn't mean it like that," I clarified, feeling like an idiot, "I just need you here. I love you." Damn it, was that the wrong thing to say, too? My mind was too scattered to think of social cues, especially when Christian was hard to read even with full focus.

"I love you, too," Christian's kiss was everything I needed. It was passionate and deep and loving and really made me reconsider not showing him the rest of my bruised skin. I didn't realize how much I needed to feel him. Sex was our coping mechanism, and I really needed to cope…He didn't let me dwell on it for long, forcing me through the bedroom door and directing me to the bed. In an act of defiance, I sat on the chaise lounge instead, knowing I'd try to get him naked if we got too close to the bed.

"Stubborn as hell, Miss Steele." Christian shook his head, hiding his frustration behind a smile.

"Christian, you don't have to do that," I tugged at a loose string on a nearby blanket, avoiding eye contact, "Being honest with me won't make me shatter, I promise."

"Are you implying that I am lying?" Christian moved closer, and for a moment, I thought I saw guilt in his eyes.

"No," I chewed on my lower lip, "But I don't want everyone to tiptoe around me."

Christian's relief was unsettling. "You've been through a lot today."

There it was. The invitation to talk about it. Shit.

"Leila…" my teeth dug further into my lower lip, "She… She was so…" I couldn't find the words. She was terrifying. She was out of her mind. She was really the shattered one. There were a million questions, but now that he was standing here, I didn't know how to ask them.

"I know," Christian crouched to his knees so that we were eye-to-eye, "She's very disturbed, Anastasia, but I can assure you that you're safe now. Theodore is safe, and you don't need to worry. But you do need to get in bed, Anastasia. Dr. Flynn has suggested you focus on your recovery, both mentally and physically."

He talked about me to Dr. Flynn? When the hell did he have the time?

"How do you know?" I pushed, "About Leila, I mean. That she won't come back."

"It's been taken care of, Ana. Now, please, bed," Christian held out his hand for me to stand, and I hesitantly followed his lead, but before I could get to bed, I stopped.

"But how was it taken care of? Christian, she could have gotten away. Taylor found me in the hall, and he just left with me. Why did he do that?" panic started to seep into my words, "Why was Taylor there? You have to admit it's one hell of a coincidence."

"Ana-" Christian's irritation pressed through his calm exterior. Why was he so determined to not answer me?

"I get it. You've only been in town for a little bit and have a lot to process, but so do I. Why won't you tell me?" I demanded.

Christian's expression shifted into guilt as I mentioned his short time in New York, and I instinctively pulled my hand away.

"You didn't just get in, did you?" I felt betrayed and waited for his answer, hoping for denial, but he didn't deny.

"No, I didn't, and you really should be in bed, Anastasia," Christian persisted.

"When did you get in?" I didn't let him change the subject. How could he have been in New York and not checked in until now, several hours later? Naively, I'd assumed that the man who would disregard work and fly across the country when I was angry would make the same effort when something bad happened. I wasn't asking why he didn't make a party or was a few minutes late to dinner. I wanted to know what kept him from his son and, well,… me.

"A few hours ago."

"Hours?" I repeated, "And you just came here? What could have possibly kept you?"

Silence.

Fuck. It was something serious. I'd hoped he had a shitty traffic excuse or bum cell signal that threw his day off, but it was something real.

"I had something to take care of, Anastasia. Now get to bed," Christian's voice was more forceful as he tried to change the subject, and I felt a nagging pit in my stomach start to grow. He'd said that Leila was 'taken care of.'

"Christian, where were you?" my voice was softer compared to his, void of my previous frustration. I silently begged him not to say he was there, that he was with her.

Christian raked his fingers through his hair, exasperation with me mounting. "I've been in New York since this afternoon. Taylor believed he had found something we were looking for, and I was preoccupied with that until now. I was told you were alright and that Teddy was safe. Otherwise, I would have come immediately.."

Something. It wasn't a something. Why the fuck wasn't he saying it?

"Taylor was in my apartment building. I found him on the staircase when I was running away. The something you were looking for… You've been with her, haven't you?" the words hung in the air, and I silently begged him to say no. He couldn't have been with her…. She tried to kill me in my apartment. She made threats against Theodore and even Christian. She was a fucking lunatic wearing my clothing and pretending she was me.

"Leila is sick, Anastasia. She was not in a good state after you left. She needed to be talked down before she did something terrible, to be…" Christian paused, "taken care of. I needed to see she'd be looked after properly. She needs help." He treated it as if he was telling me about a kid with cancer, not a fucking psychopath. What the fuck?

"After I left? You mean p escaped. She was living in my apartment, Christian. She told me that she was Anastasia Steele while waving around my knife. She had seen us together, knew I called you by your first name. She's been fucking stalking me. Yes, I am perfectly aware she is not in a good state, but don't treat her like a God damn puppy!" I was furious, "She threatened all of us. Not just you or me, but Teddy. She fucking cut me," I shoved my injured arm to him as proof.

"You broke her nose," Christian was… reproaching me?

"Good. She nearly killed me, so I think we're even," I shook my head, my jaw tightening, "What the fuck is happening here? Your ex-sub comes in my apartment, threatens to kill me so she can become Mrs. Fucking Leila Grey, and you are mad at me because I broke her nose to make sure I got out?"

Christian was exasperated with me. I couldn't believe this. I didn't expect to be praised for emptying out my home library on her face, but I didn't expect to be reprimanded for it either. I thought Christian would be livid on my behalf and as frightened as I was. I thought I could go home with him to Seattle for a little bit and hide out until the memories faded enough for me to walk into Starbucks without worrying if someone is planning my murder, but now I wanted to plan Christian's.

"I didn't say that, Anastasia-"

"No, but you do seem a whole lot more concerned with your ex-girlfriend than the person she could have killed! What is it about her? Maybe you have a thing for stalkers, but I thought that you might care about me just a little bit more. You know, just out of pity for me if anything," I brushed past him, too livid to look in his fucking face anymore, "So, what? You clearly knew to look for her and that she might be in my apartment, so you were just going to keep this a secret? I don't know, it might have been nice if you'd mentioned this to me at literally any point."

"Leila has been unstable for years, yes, so we knew to look for her. It was only this morning that Taylor traced her to your apartment, Anastasia," Christian clearly hated having to explain himself, "She'd had incidents before but was doing better until a few months ago when she dropped off of the map. Taylor has looking for her, yes, but it wasn't like I was calling around personally."

"No, but you did covertly fly into New York and stay with her after everything happened. If it wasn't personal enough for you to look, it didn't have to be personal enough for you to go give her a nice chat."

"I didn't give her a nice chat. Anastasia, this is ridiculous. You are understandably upset and need rest. We can continue this conversation after you've slept," Christian even started to pull the sheets back.

"It is ridiculous. I am jealous of a woman who pointed a knife at me and told me that my son is her baby. I've spent this entire afternoon trying to hide this from Teddy when, for a while there, I wasn't sure if I would ever get to see him again. You know, Teddy was supposed to meet me there. We were going to have an adorable night of cartoons and Chinese food because I'd decided I was going to Seattle," I watched as his face softened and fought the tears prickling at my eyes, "He could have gotten there first. That knife could have been in his face. Think of everything she could have done when he didn't go along with her demented view of your family."

"Ana," he began, but I wasn't going to let him finish.

"But while I was thinking about our family and trying to take care of our son, you were coddling that bitch. You know, when I was trying to calm her down, I told her I was inadequate to be your sub, and clearly you must think so if you ran to her. Because you made it obvious that being a dom means more to you than being here," it was harsh, but in that moment, I wanted to be harsh. I wanted him to be as hurt as I was, "So you know what? Fuck this. Fuck all of it. Go back to Seattle by yourself."

Restraining my tears was impossible, so I did the best next thing. I started towards the door.

"No, Anastasia, you're not running, are you?" the panic in his voice was heartbreaking, heartwarming, and infuriating all at the same time. He was afraid I was going to leave. Was I going to leave? I didn't know… I couldn't form an answer for what felt like an eternity, searching myself to find the depth of my hurt.

Finally, I stopped at the door and managed, "No. But I am sleeping in Theodore's room. I am going to watch Shrek with him because I promised, and you are not going to breathe a word of any of this to him."

Christian tried to say something as I left, but I wasn't there to listen.

Christian Grey,

Anastasia wouldn't speak to me. I was only allowed in the room because Ana didn't want Theodore to know we were fighting. But being in the room was the extent of the kindness. I was relegated to the desk on the edge of living room, getting my only view of my family over my laptop. On the rare occasion that she looked at me, I was a monster. In her eyes, I'd picked her assailant over her, and the more time elapsed, I wondered if she was right.

When Taylor alerted me that he found Leila in New York, I was terrified. I wanted the situation to be neutralized as efficiently as possible, so Taylor flew out at nine am. Due to work commitments, I couldn't leave for a few more hours, and when the plane landed, the news was horrific. Yes, Leila had been accurately located in New York, but she had reportedly living as Anastasia for weeks. And Anastasia was the one who found her first, not Taylor.

For years, Leila had been a major concern. A few years ago, she'd left her husband and lost her lover, and according to her psychiatrist, news of my relationship with Anastasia triggered her meltdown. Trying to grab my attention, she'd attempted suicide in front of Gail Jones and disappeared again. It took months to detect Leila and get her into proper care, and for a year, she'd been stable. She was deemed healthy enough to return to normal life, and I'd set her up in art school in San Diego, hoping the distance would help her healing. And for a while, I thought it had. Leila began a relationship with a museum curator and was ecstatic to announce her pregnancy. So, when contact ended, it seemed like a natural progression into her independence.

Then, three months ago, her mother called. She hadn't heard from Leila in weeks and hoped that I knew something, so I assigned Taylor to work on it. Still, I had hope that Leila was fine. Our relationship didn't work, much to her disappointment, but I cared about her safety and happiness. The more Taylor found, the more that hope diminished. She'd lost the baby, left the boyfriend, dropped out of art school, and moved away in one swoop. Taylor tracked her to her brief stint in Atlanta and lost her in Boston.

When Taylor told me that he felt like he found her in New York, I knew what it meant. The cycle repeated. Just as seeing a photo of my relationship devastated her after the loss of hers, seeing a photo of me with my son tormented her after losing her own. The ending had to be ugly, but even with realistic expectations, nothing prepared me for what Leila had done.

She hurt Ana. She wanted to hurt me. She wanted to hurt my son. She wanted to destroy my family. And maybe, in blind concern, I let her.

Taylor ended the situation before it could escalate. Leila cut Anastasia, and Ana broke her nose. But neither were seriously injured, which I considered a stroke of luck. Knowing what Leila was capable of, Taylor ordered backup that handled Leila as he took Anastasia home. Ana wasn't in a state to go home alone and needed a familiar face, not an unknown security guard. He stayed with her until she was comfortable with the doctor and her assistant, Curtis.

Then Taylor called me, and in the backseat of a car, I had to decide. Was I going to Anastasia to comfort her after she'd been through hell because of my past? Or was I going to calm Leila and resolve the stand-off as she threatened suicide in Anastasia's apartment? And I picked the latter. In my mind, I'd tackled the larger problem. My family, while distraught, was safe. Leila was a loose cannon, threatening to take a life.

But I'd underestimated the scene in New York. Anastasia wasn't bulletproof and was clearly suffering from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, and when pressured, our base issues flourished. At the most basic level, I'd picked someone over her. When hell broke loose, I came to her bedside second. And Ana was in this hell because of me.

Leila was my former sub. She was in Anastasia's apartment because Ana was connected to me. Anastasia was injured because of me. Teddy was endangered because of me. Everything she was going through had a direct link to me. She had every right to hate me. But even if she deserved to, I hoped she didn't. The shower was just as real as Leila's knife, but Anastasia didn't want to see me.

Only a few hours ago, Anastasia wanted to go back to Seattle with me. It was everything I always wanted, and I fucked it up. Mentally, I relived the day, searching for the correct sequence of actions that would have prevented this, but even if I had the perfect way to reduce my idiocy, I couldn't go back. I just had to hope that Anastasia would talk to me again and that I'd be less of a jackass when she did.

When I peeked over my computer screen, credits rolled on the television screen, signaling the end of their movie night. Teddy, despite being obviously tired, danced along to the remaining soundtrack while Anastasia turned off the movie. The quiet was deafening without an animated film filling the room, and my patience was wearing thin on the silent treatment.

"It's time for bed, Teddy," Anastasia's eyes purposefully avoided my gaze, "And someone needs to brush their teeth."

Teddy pouted, and when he toddled over to me, I was shocked. For a moment, I'd started to think that I was invisible.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Teddy held up his arms, so I carefully pulled him up into my lap. I understood why Anastasia was so careful around him. More than anyone, I knew the level of her psychosis. Leila was dangerous and had access to the most precious thing in the world to me, Theodore.

"Goodnight, Teddy," I kissed the top of his head, his wild curls still wet from his bath, "I love you."

Teddy planted a big kiss on my cheek, and while I was smiling like an idiot, he jumped off of my lap and started his walk to his bedroom down the hall. Anastasia paused, looking over her shoulder to look at me, and my heart stopped. Hope built in my chest, urging her to end the silence and talk to me.

"I've never seen Shrek. Surprisingly good," I spoke up first, blurting out the first thing I thought of.

Anastasia watched me for a moment, and finally she just offered a tiny small, "Goodnight, Christian. See you in the morning."

Oh. The rejection left me speechless, and her commitment was infuriating.

"Goodnight, Anastasia."

Watching her walk in the opposite direction of our room, I realized how much I needed her in the bed beside me. She kept the darkness at bay, but I may not ever have her in my bed again. The longer she was gone, the more I needed her. I was going after her, but my computer interrupted me. And yet again, I accidentally picked Leila over Anastasia.

Ping.

To: Christian Grey

Subject: Arrangements Settled

From: Dr. John Flynn

Miss Leila Williams is settled in a mental institution in upstate New York. I've just gotten off the phone with her psychiatrist, and they plan to relocate her as you have requested once she is stable. A colleague of mine works at a respected institution in Maine where she will receive care and eventually reach recovery while maintaining distance from your family.

Please tell Anastasia that I wish her well. As your friend, I insist you spend time in New York. I'm sure you and Anastasia need time together now.

-Flynn

I closed the email without a response. He'd have a field day if he knew how I'd royally screwed the day, tracing my ill-guided actions to some deeper struggle, but for one night, I wanted pardon from being told I was innocent. Because I'm not. I never am. Anastasia finally saw me in my true form, a monster.

Another surprise! I wanted to reimagine the events of Fifty Shades Darker. I felt like Leila would cause more damage, Christian would still feel an obligation to Leila, and that Anastasia would have a very different reaction because the stakes were a lot higher. This chapter is crazy long (the longest in the story, actually), and I debated turning it into two but ended up just sending it out so the reader could have the full story. So, tell me what you think about this twist!

This is definitely not an easy road for Christian and Anastasia, so be prepared for twists and turns.

As always, please favorite, follow, and review. And happy belated New Year!