A/N: I know most of you won't like this chapter or the direction it takes, but all I can say is that it has a purpose. I'm hoping to get through this as quickly as possible with minimal damage, and I hope you guys will stick around to see it all resolved. With that in mind, I'm going to go hide beneath a rock for my own safety.
Only a few hours ago, I looked forward to coming home more than anything in the world, eager to spend time with my family. Now the sight of the elevator that will take me up to the penthouse fills me with dread. I may have convinced myself this is necessary, but I don't know if I'm strong enough to follow through. My mind returns to the email I received, the photos that had been taken from close range despite the presence of Ana and Caleb's security detail. Both messages have resonated loud and clear and I don't see another way out of this. My only hope is that she won't hate me when all is said and done.
Part of me hopes Ana and Caleb are still out for the day, shopping with Kate and Mia so I can put this off a little longer. But the moment the elevator doors open in the foyer, I hear Ana's giggle followed by Caleb's gurgle form somewhere in the apartment, and I realize luck is not on my side. Not today, anyway...
"Mr. Grey?" Taylor says from behind me. "Is everything okay, sir?"
"Of course," I reply automatically. I know he doesn't believe me, especially after I just spent nearly ten minutes down in the parking garage staring in disdain at the elevator. He noticed my odd behavior the moment I began to cancel my afternoon meetings, but hasn't yet inquired about it. "I'd like some privacy with my family for a while, but you'll probably be needed later, so stay nearby."
Before he can take a breath to respond, I'm headed in the direction of the nursery where the laughter can still be heard. For several minutes, I linger outside, soaking up my family's happiness as much as I can in case I never have the opportunity again. My heart twists in pain at the thought, but I need to keep to the plan; I know what I have to do and how I have to do it, regardless of how much I hate myself for it. And the longer I stand here, the harder it will be. I clear my throat, immediately drawing Ana's attention from her game of dangling toy keys in front of our son for his amusement. She turns to glance at me briefly with her gorgeous smile, not registering the look of devastation on my face.
"You're home early," she says, making faces at Caleb. From here, it looks as though he's sticking his tongue out at her in response—a behavior I'd be happy to blame on Kate and Mia. "Gail said she's making stroganoff for dinner. Apparently it's your favorite...?"
She trails off uncertainly, looking at me again to confirm my housekeeper's claims. I nod distractedly. "Yes, it is," I answer faintly. "One of them anyway..."
Now or never, Grey. Putting it off will only make it worse for both of you...
"How was your day?" Ana asks, lifting Caleb to sit in her lap and turning to face me. "You look exhausted..."
I nod. "I am," I agree. Along with a million other things I don't want to face right now... "Ana, why don't you put Caleb down? There's something we need to talk about."
Her smile fades as she takes in my expression completely. "What's the matter?" she asks.
I shake my head. "Not here," I say, my voice croaky. "Please."
Without another word, she climbs to her feet rather elegantly considering she's carrying our squirming son in her arms. She joins me at the door, searching my eyes for a hint of what I'm feeling and frowns. Swallowing hard, I take her hand, mindful that the grip I have on her is tight enough to hurt her, but I can't release her. Not yet, anyway. I lead her into my office, over to the couch against the wall below the photos José took of her. If I'm looking at them during this conversation, I know I'll change my mind and right now, that isn't an option.
"Christian, what is it?" Ana asks in a whisper when I release her hand and reposition myself so I'm facing her. "Is somebody hurt?"
"No," I answer quickly. "Nobody's hurt." At least not yet... I run my hands through my hair, settling on the realization that there is no easy way to get through this. "I don't know how to do this, Ana..."
"Do what?" she whispers, wide-eyed.
I sigh. "I need to say something and I need you to just listen, because I need to get this out. It's non-negotiable..." Even to my own ears I sound like I'm rambling. Ana nods in response to my request, already looking fearful. I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly before I begin to speak again.
"Ana, I can't do this anymore," I say, unable to meet her gaze. "I thought I could. I thought it's what I wanted, but I was wrong."
"Wrong about what?" she breathes, apparently unable to hold the words back. "What can't you do?"
I wave my hand, gesturing vaguely around the room. "This," I answer. "This whole... family thing... I never wanted it, not once in my life did I want to share my life with anybody and I fooled myself into thinking I could do it. You were an obsession from the moment I met you and when I was with you, I blindly changed just about every aspect of my life. A life I was content with, one that I had absolute control over."
"Christian, why are you saying this?" she asks, her tone bordering on pleading. "I know you don't mean it."
She reaches for my hand and I jump to my feet, needing to get away from her. I can't let her touch me until I get this out. "You don't know me," I say with a firmness I don't feel. "Ana, you don't know a fucking thing about me." She's shaking her head, forming her arguments. I'd hoped it would be easier to convince her of this, because my next tactic is going to kill us both. "Elena was right. I need more than what you can give me. I need someone who won't fight me on every little fucking thing, someone who doesn't expect me to be somebody I'm not. And now I'm dealing with threats that I can't focus on because all I can think about is your and Caleb's safety, and I can't go on like this anymore."
"What are you saying?" she asks, apparently completely unaware of the tears streaming down her face as I thoroughly break her heart.
"I'm saying we're over," I reply, vaguely impressed and disgusted with the evenness of my voice. "I don't want this life, Anastasia. I want my old life—my old, uncomplicated life."
"But you love me." The confidence in her voice almost causes me to flinch visibly. "I know you do."
I shake my head, leaning against my desk for support. "But I don't," I whisper, feeling my heart shatter with my words. "I've told you enough about my life that you should know it's not possible for me to love anybody. Whatever it is you think I feel for you, it's a lie; I thought if I convinced you that loving you is the truth, you'd be more willing to go along with my needs in the playroom. And you were naïve enough to believe everything I said about vanilla and more and love, and all that other bullshit." Before I can stop myself, some of the remorse I'm feeling leaks through; I need to give her something to hang onto. "Ana, I thought I did love you, I was wrong. You know me, you know I can't love you. Not the way you need."
God, I hate myself right now much more than I ever have before.
She looks as though I've just slapped her. "You're lying," she whispers, slowly getting to her feet. "I know you're lying to me. Why? What happened?"
Fuck. This is going to get even uglier; I can feel it. "Nothing happened," I lie through gritted teeth. "And I'm not lying. Only a virgin would believe a man like me could love her." This is wrong... So, so wrong... "Whatever happens, I'll always provide for our son—whatever he needs. I'll take care of him."
I watch in horror as her expression changes from confusion to hurt to anger in the blink of an eye. "Fuck you," she whispers, closing the distance between us. "Christian, I know what you're doing. What I don't know is why you're doing it. If something happened, I think I deserve to know. You don't have to hurt me to protect me."
The woman really is way too smart for her own good. "Why can't you get t through your fucking head that I don't want you?" I ask coldly. "You were nothing more than a challenge, Anastasia. One that's overstayed it's welcome."
In the next second, my cheek is on fire when she slaps me hard. It's the least of what I deserve. "Don't do this to me," she warns, her voice stronger than I thought it could be under the circumstances. "I'm telling you right now, Christian, if you do this, that's it. We're fucking done. Don't expect to slip back into my life again begging forgiveness. So think carefully: Is this really what you want?"
NO! my mind shouts. Somehow I manage a nod as I rub my stinging cheek.
She studies me closely, searching for answers and the truth. Her expression closes down and she removes her engagement ring from her finger, reaching around me to place it on the desk. "Fine," she whispers. "You're making the biggest fucking mistake of your life."
I agree wholeheartedly and have to bite my tongue to keep from saying anything as she leaves the study without another word. Once her footsteps fade, my legs give out and I sink to the floor, unable to do anything else at the moment. More than anything, I want to chase after her, tell her I didn't mean even a single thing I said to her, because of course I want her and Caleb, but I can't. I try to convince myself this is temporary, and it works until I recall exactly what I just said to her. And I think about what she just said to me—she won't take me back after this, I know it.
I'm frozen where I sit for several minutes, knees pulled to my chest, fingers twisted in my hair. I want to call the whole fucking thing off right now, to tell whoever is after us to do their worst, because nothing they could do to me even compares to what I feel right now. Everything I treasure is about to walk out of my life and I still don't even know who's behind it all.
But more than anything, I need Ana and Caleb to be safe. Even if I make her hate me, it won't diminish my need to protect them.
I push myself off the floor, forcing myself to walk straight past Caleb's nursery where Ana is stuffing clothes into a bag, and head for the security office. Taylor is behind the desk watching some CCTV footage. "Miss Steele and Caleb will need transportation," I say in a voice I don't recognize.
For a moment, I think Taylor might call for an ambulance when he gets a good look at me. "Mr. Grey?" he says tentatively, standing. "Are you all right?"
I'll never be all right again if this doesn't work out... "Get the car ready, please. Take them wherever they wish to go."
I've never seen my head of security so confused in all the time he's worked for me, but I can't stand the thought of giving him anything more than that right now. Ana has moved into our bedroom and is going through the closet for her things. I find she's left Caleb in his crib for the time being, so I take the opportunity to see him for what might be the last time. I lean over the bars and find my son grinning up at me and I can't help but return the smile despite everything I'm feeling right now.
"Everything will be fine," I whisper to him, reaching down to smooth his hair. It's starting to stick up exactly like mine does. Every day I find something new about him that reminds me of Ana or myself and I hate the thought that I'll be without that for who the fuck knows how long. "I wish you could understand. Hell, I wish I could understand. But right now it has to be this way. It won't be forever, Caleb, I promise. I'll come for you and your mother as soon as I can, and we'll be together again. I love you both so much and I'm sorry it has to be like this; if your mom ever forgives me, I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to her. You'll be safe, though, and right now that's what matters."
I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I will the stinging in my eyes to stop when Caleb reaches out and grabs one of my fingers, holding it tightly in his little fist. "My days are going to be miserable without the two of you and I will think of you every second. I'm doing this for us, son. Everything I do is for you. Somehow I'll prove that to your mom and if I can't, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you both safe and happy, because you deserve every happiness in the world." I feel my throat closing up around the emotion lodged in there; if I go on anymore, I'll end up curled up on the floor, sobbing, and that is the last thing I want Ana to walk in on right now. I lean over the crib bars again and press my lips to my son's head. "I love you, Caleb. If you remember nothing else, please remember that."
Forcing myself to leave the room, I head into the great room, leaning against the back of the couch to wait for Ana. It's last year all over again—waiting for her to walk out of my life, leaving me in that perpetual darkness of purgatory that I'd found myself in when she went. I try to remind myself it's not forever, that I'll get her back, so there's an end in sight. When I finally see her enter the room, I try to block out the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Ignoring my presence as much as she can, she sets Caleb's car seat and her luggage down by the foyer door where Taylor is waiting as unobtrusively as he can manage.
"Will you at least tell me where you're going?" I ask hoarsely when she turns in my general direction.
"I think you've lost your right to have me tell you anything," she says flatly.
I wince, but sure as hell can't argue. "Ana, please," I plead, trying to think of anything I might have leverage on right now. Caleb kicks a leg out, drawing my attention. "I need to know my son is safe." Anger and hurt flashes in her eyes; I swallow hard. "I need to know you're both safe, Ana."
She studies me intently just as she did in my office when she was trying to work things out in her own mind. "Last chance, Christian," she whispers. "The truth. Please."
Biting my tongue again, I force myself to look away from her, and apparently that's enough answer for her.
She sighs heavily. "Caleb and I will be fine," she says coldly. "I'll make sure Ray's got his shotgun ready should you decide to show up. He can protect us. Seems to me the only thing we need protecting from is you and all your bullshit."
Well, she isn't wrong... I try to think of something else to say, something to keep her here for just a minute longer, but when the elevator doors begin to shut, I know it's too late, and I hold her gaze for as long as I can—long enough to see her shoulders drop in absolute defeat. "I'm so sorry, Ana," I whisper after the doors shut.
I take a moment to grieve what I'm losing, then spring into action, taking my cell phone from my pocket and searching for a phone number, cursing when it takes more than two rings for him to answer.
"Hello," he says gruffly, probably having no idea who is calling him. I realize suddenly Ana never gave me this number; I found it on my own in case of emergency.
"Mr. Steele," I say in the strongest voice I can muster at the moment. "Christian Grey. I need your help."
As Taylor drives us further and further from Escala, everything that has just happened begins to hit all at once. Caleb is oblivious in his car seat, unaware of my inner turmoil. I'm confused and hurt and scared, and I have no idea how to fix any of this. From the moment he started speaking, I knew there was something Christian wasn't telling me and the longer it went on, the more certain I became. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm more hurt that he lied to me or because of the things he said to me. I believed him at first; he was confirming every negative thing I'd ever thought about myself. I wasn't good enough for him, wasn't enough to keep him happy in the long term. Of course he didn't want to saddle himself with a wife and kid when he could have anything else in the world he could ever want, even after all the attempts he made to convince me otherwise.
But then I say the chink in the armor. I might have believed him completely if I hadn't seen his walls crumble just a little when he talked about not loving us. He said I don't know him; he couldn't have been more wrong. He needs us just as much as we need him. I recall every time he's told me there are no lengths he wouldn't go to in order to keep us safe. I'm convinced that's exactly what this is; he needs to keep us safe and apparently that means breaking our hearts in the process. I want to call him and tell him I know what he's doing, so he'll tell me it was all an act. But despite my realization, I can't help being hurt by his words. It's one thing for him to tell me he doesn't love me; it's something else entirely to bring his former child molester into the discussion. He knew exactly what buttons to push to get me to hate him and if I somehow manage to forgive him for all of this, it's going to take time to flush his words from my mind.
"Do you know why he's doing this, Taylor?" I manage to ask halfway through our drive to Montesano.
Taylor glances at me through the rearview mirror, looking remorseful. "No, Miss Steele," he says quietly. "I don't."
I nod, having expected that answer. So whatever is happening, Christian hasn't even told Taylor. That only makes things worse. He's scared enough that he's pushing me away, but not allowing anybody else to handle the problem. And that's the trouble with Christian Grey—he's always so determined to do things on his own and he doesn't always think his behaviors through before acting. I only hope he doesn't do anything stupid.
Well, anything else stupid at any rate...
When we pull into my dad's driveway, the door opens almost immediately and he steps onto the porch as though he expected us any second. Which he probably did, considering I called him as soon as I thought I could get through a conversation with him without breaking down completely. Taylor shuts off the ignition, but doesn't get out right away.
"Miss Steele. Ana," he corrects himself, turning around to hand me something. "If you need anything, please don't hesitate to call."
I take a business card from him, smiling. "Thank you," I say quietly. "You'll take care of him, won't you? Make sure he stays out of trouble?"
He gives me a small smile. "Always," he promises, getting out of the car to unload our bags.
As I take Caleb's car seat from the back, my dad reaches us and I automatically turn towards him, allowing him to pull me into a hug. This is good. This is comforting. Sometimes a girl just needs her daddy and this is one of those times. He doesn't ask for explanations, doesn't ask if I'm all right; he just holds me, gently rocking me back and forth to comfort me. After awhile, I realize Taylor has taken my bags to the porch and is standing back to give me time with Ray. When we part, I thank Taylor again, though this time I am thoroughly exhausted after this unbelievable few hours, and he leaves shortly after. I watch him go, wondering why it always ends this way for Christian and me, and if we'll ever find our happily ever after.
