For the last several hours, I've been in Christian's arms in one form or another. We slept for a while then I woke up to the gentle touch of fingers exploring me. Honestly, I've always preferred this method of being woken up to any other. We made love again. There was so much appreciation and reverence in his movements that I know he was trying to tell me how happy he is that I came back to him, that I trusted what he told me about the photos.
The photos. My lips curl in a snarl at the very thought of them. There is nothing more I want in this world than to wrap my fingers around the neck of Elena Lincoln and squeeze until she's dead. I hate her more now than I've ever hated her before. And that's saying something. The fact that she was able to get me to react just as she expected me is infuriating. If last evening had gone differently, I might have actually gone home with Thomas and done something I could never take back. Something I would regret the moment I found out the truth—and probably before that. I feel horrible for the way I reacted to seeing those photos. Christian says he understands the reaction, even though he wishes I would have stuck around long enough to hear him out. I do, too. Though there is part of me that is relieved he saw me with Thomas again. I know it probably hurt him deeply, but now he's felt a very tiny fraction of what I felt watching that video, seeing those photos, despite their having been faked.
"Ana?" his voice whispers against my ear. "Are you awake?"
I thought he'd been fast asleep after round four. Apparently not. "Yes," I whisper back. Expecting round five, I snuggle back into him, feeling him harden against my lower back.
He sucks in a breath through his teeth and tightens his grip around my waist. "Not what I had in mind, baby," he tells me huskily. "I thought we could talk."
"Oh." I'm surprised at my disappointment. Judging by his brief chuckle against my shoulder, he finds my disappointment amusing. "Okay. What shall we discuss?"
His body tenses then shudders. "What happened with Canton?" he breathes as though hoping I won't hear the question so he doesn't have to hear the answer.
With a sigh, I roll over so that I'm facing him, his hand resting possessively and protectively on my hip. His face is nervous and I immediately push aside all vindictive thoughts that suggest embellishing what actually happened as some sort of revenge. "Nothing happened, Christian," I whisper, bringing my hand to his face to cup his cheek. His eyes close at my touch. "Finding him was complete coincidence. I was walking past that restaurant and he saw me. He came out to say hello, saw I was upset, and invited me to join him for coffee. We talked."
"He was holding your hand," he murmured reluctantly.
My eyes widen. How long was he there? "Yes," I acknowledge. "I was telling him what happened and he was comforting me. That's all. Do you want to know what advice he gave me?" He nods warily. "He basically told me to come back to you." Christian's own eyes widen at the news. "He told me that he thinks we have something incredibly special and that if we give in to what Elena and Lucy are doing, they'll win. He said I have to decide if our marriage is worth getting through whatever the world throws at us."
"And is it?" he mouths.
I smile slowly. "I'm here, aren't I?" I ask quietly. "Did you really believe I was leaving you for him?"
He jerks his shoulder in a slight shrug. "It wasn't outside the realm of possibility," he answers. "Seeing the two of you together... I realized he could give you something I couldn't: a quiet life. He wouldn't put you through the pain I have over the years. He could take care of you, comfort you, make you laugh..."
"That's true," I say thoughtfully. "And in the interest of complete honesty, I did have a brief moment when I thought what it might be like to be with him. But when it comes down to it, he's not who I want. I feel nothing but friendship for him and that will never change. He's been there for me when I've needed him, but I could never love him. You're it for me, Christian. If this," I gesture between us, "doesn't work out, nothing ever will for me."
The relief on his face is almost comical, but I've never been less inclined to laugh in my life. "Thank god," he whispers, breathing the words against my forehead. "I know I of all people have no right to question you on something like that, but thank you for telling me." His eyes close briefly as he seems to internally wrestle with something. "I also know my answers on this subject have been cause for confusion and also in the interest of complete honesty, I need to bring this up one last time, especially in light of what's coming up for is in only a few hours." A feeling of dread settles in me at his words. "I can't count the number of times people have asked me about my true feelings for Lucy. I've been wrestling with it for months, trying to figure out what I felt for her."
"Christian," I say urgently. This is not what we need to be discussing right now. And frankly, I don't care about the answer anymore. Whether he loved her. Whether he talked to her about leaving me for her. How he seemed to forget all his feelings for her the moment I found out what had been going on between them and left him. None of it is important anymore and I don't want to hear what he has to say about it. There is a part of me, though, that wants to hear his words, his admissions before I'm blindsided at the trial. Lucy will be taking the stand and there is a high probability that Christian will as well—we still don't know for certain—and maybe it will be best to hear it coming from him now in privacy than later on which will only make me look like an idiot in front of any number of people...
"Please, Ana," he pleads. "Please let me say this." I hesitate but nod fractionally in acquiescence. He gives me a small, forced smile that more resembles a grimace. "As much as it pains me to admit, especially to you, I truly thought I was in love with her, however short-lived it might have been. Any number of things might have contributed to this and I won't bother listing them yet again. There was a point at which I thought about leaving you for her. I can't remember which of us brought it up and it probably doesn't matter at this point. I latched onto that thought almost eagerly because I believed you were preparing to leave me and if that was the case, I thought I needed someone to help me through it."
"Did you ever tell her you loved her?" I hear myself asking, wondering how it is I'm feeling so calm while we're discussing this.
His brow furrows in thought. "I honestly can't remember. Perhaps once. I know I showed up drunk off my ass to her place on one occasion and I have a very vague memory of saying things I couldn't recall the next morning—that may have been one of them. I know you probably won't believe me, but I truly never stopped loving you. Ever. It probably makes me a shit saying it, especially given the context in which I'm saying it, but that's something I need you to understand."
I nod slowly, another question I've been wondering about for months forming in my mind. "If you were in love with her," I begin, "how was it so easy for you to fall out of that when I left you? And how do I know you won't do the same to me in the future?"
The look on his face suggests he's expected this question, even though he hoped it would never come up. "I don't know," he responds. "I think that's what has me so confused about how I truly felt about her. If it was really love, it should have been more difficult to get over. And you're right; if I really loved her it should have been easy for me to move on after you left. In hindsight, I think it was more lust and infatuation than love." He pauses. "I hate that we're in the dark and I can't see your face. I need to know what you're thinking right now, baby."
I sigh. "Christian, this is nothing I haven't figured out for myself," I tell him honestly. I really cannot believe I'm handling this so well and not freaking out in any way. "I've thought these things a million times; I just needed to hear you say it out loud and now that you have, I'm okay. I probably shouldn't be and I think I'll be making an emergency appointment with Flynn at some point very soon, but I'm okay. Nothing's changed for me. All I ask is that you don't make me regret this one day."
He doesn't seem to know how to respond to my request and really, I don't expect him to. So to save him the bother of coming up with something to break the tense silence that's trying to build up between us, I lean forward and press my lips to his, moving them softly and slowly to remind the both of us that we're here together and not giving up despite the intentions of others to make us do just that.
To my surprise, he pulls away first. "Are we okay?" he whispers against my lips. Even in the dark I can see his wide dark eyes looking anxiously at me.
I take a deep breath, releasing it slowly as I consider his question. "Yes," I respond after a few silent moments. "Yes, we're okay."
"Thank god," he breathes, resting his forehead against mine.
I squirm slightly uncomfortably, feeling the urge to once again apologize. "If, that is, you'll forgive me for the way I reacted and running," I say quietly.
I see him smile slightly. "Nothing to forgive, baby," he whispers back. "Your reaction was fitting considering the situation. I don't know how you do it. I would have reacted much worse."
Raising an eyebrow, I know it's time to break the tension. "As I understand it, you broke a television," I remind him. He filled me in on the state of the hotel suite's television and that the cause was a remote control.
He smirks. "True," he says. "Though with the money I gave the hotel to cover the damages, they could easily put a fucking theater in this room." I giggle and his eyes soften. "We should get some sleep." His tone is full of reluctance. "We've only got a few hours before we have to be at the courthouse and I have a feeling this is going to be a very emotionally draining day."
Sighing with reluctance, I allow Christian to rearrange us so my back is against his front and one of his legs is between mine. He whispers "good night" against my ear before placing a tiny kiss right below it.
Today didn't go nearly like I thought it would, but despite that, I fall asleep quickly with my husband's arms around my waist and a smile on my face.
"Without a doubt, that's slander."
Ana and I are having breakfast with my parents before the trial, and on Ana's insistence, I brought the photos from last night with us for my father's advice. They'd both seen the photos that were shown on television so they weren't completely blindsided when I brought up the subject. For a few minutes, I could see my parents watching Ana closely as though taking cues from her on how to treat me. If she was still angry and hurt, I have the feeling neither of them would be so friendly towards me this morning.
I even told them about my theory of Elena being the one to release the photos. Mom is beyond livid and I know given the chance she would be more than willing to demonstrate that lividness on her former friend. Dad, on the other hand, is being calmly professional about the whole thing, talking about getting proof of Elena's involvement in the photos, forming a lawsuit. But I don't want to sue Elena. I want her out of my life before she damages what's left of my marriage. Ana doesn't seem at all eager to be overly involved with a lawsuit either, probably for the same reasons, and I'm once again struck with the knowledge of how fucking lucky I am to still have her.
When the time comes that we have to leave for the courthouse, I sense Ana becoming more closed-off to me. She responds to our questions, managing a reassuring smile when I ask her if she's okay, but whenever she tunes out whatever is going on around her, I see her frowning deeply and I know it's because of what is to come.
In light of the photos, my father tells me it will be in our best interest for me to take the stand as yet another form of defense. Lucy's lawyers seem keen to keep me from giving my side of the story and I know whatever comes from my testimony will only work against them. At the same time, I know they're going to tear me apart when it's their turn to question me. My dad assures me that as long as I remain calm and answer all questions honestly, there won't be any issues. I just hope this doesn't backfire.
The grip Ana and I have on each other's hands is almost painful as Lucy enters the courtroom. Just like yesterday, I see her scan the room, her gaze landing on me. Again, there's a shadow of a smirk on her face that only serves to piss me off, until her gaze slides over to Ana. I nearly smile at how Lucy seems to miss a step as she walks to her table at the sight of my wife. To say she's shocked would be an understatement and only solidifies the other theory we had about Lucy also being somehow involved in those photos being leaked. Clearly she believed they would chase Ana away from me. I don't know if she also believed that if Ana ran from me for good I'd be at her side and defense, but I don't give a fuck at this point. Just knowing her level of involvement in Elena's master plan is enough make me want to bury her with my testimony.
Unfortunately, though, apparently Lucy gets to go first. Her lawyers make her case as the jilted lover of a very rich and powerful man who played with her emotions and threw her carelessly to the side. It's not an unfamiliar story as I'm certain there are hundreds of men in my position who have done the same thing with their mistresses. They paint me as the monster in their story—which is expected, though no less maddening—by saying after months of being together, me making promises about leaving my wife, I wiped my hands of Lucy, leaving her emotionally bereft and pining for the man she loved.
It sickens me that my family is hearing all of this. Though given what I've put them through, I deserve this form of torture and more. I can't even bring myself to look at Ana to see how she's handling this; I'm terrified that if I do, I'll see disgust directed towards me, despite her assurances that she knew everything beforehand and nothing was going to drive her away from me.
When Lucy takes the stand, I brace myself for the inevitable emotional display. I have to admit, though, she really knows how to play the emotionally and mentally unbalanced character. Her eyes are wide and nervous as they dart around the courtroom. Whenever they land on me, they dart away quickly and she seems to shrink in her chair as though she's afraid of me. And when she speaks, it's not in the confident way she normally does; rather she uses a small, timid tone, playing up some sort of innocence to the court.
Her lawyer, a tall thin woman with graying hair, approaches her at the stand once she's sworn in and gives her a kind, motherly sort of smile. "Lucy," she says as though speaking to a child, "can you tell us how you came to know Christian Grey?"
Lucy looks startled by the question, but nods fractionally. "We met in Seattle," she says very quietly. The only way the rest of us can even hear what she's saying is due to the microphone placed directly in front of her. "We had the same kickboxing trainer and met that way."
The lawyer nods. "And how did your affair begin?"
Lucy sucks in a shaky breath, a small smile on her face as she apparently recalls our first tryst like it's a cherished memory. "It was in Los Angeles," she explains quietly, a faraway look in her eye. "We were both there on separate business and I saw him in the bar of the hotel where we were both staying. I struck up a conversation with him and we talked for several hours. Then he invited me up to his room."
The biggest mistake I've ever made in my life.
"What happened once you were in his room?"
Blushing, Lucy looks down at her knotted fingers, shy all of a sudden. It hits me at this moment that Elena did one hell of a fucking job instructing her on how to behave like Ana. I narrow my eyes at Lucy. "We slept together," she whispers in wonder.
She goes on to say that yes, she knew I was married with a child, but I'd told her how unhappy I was in my marriage and due to the connection she and I seemed to have, she didn't allow my relationship status to bother her. I can hear Ana's harsh, uneven breathing as she's forced to listen to every detail of my and Lucy's relationship—all the business trips I went on and met Lucy; the gifts I bestowed upon her; all my words twisted around to make her look like a victim. She claims that not only did we begin planning a future together—one that included divorcing my wife, marrying her, and starting our own family—but I also had promised my wife wouldn't get a cent from me when our divorce went through.
This is the point at which I feel my anger bubbling. I never discussed any such things with Lucy. Once or twice when I was feeling exceptionally defeated by my marriage I might have mentioned the very slim possibility of Ana and me divorcing. But not once did I tell Lucy that she and I would be married and start a family. More than anything I want to reassure Ana of this information, to swear to her she is the only woman with whom I want a family, but I know this isn't the time for that.
When we reach the part of the story where Ana found out about the affair, Lucy breaks down in tears, forcing a halt in the proceedings as her lawyer gives her a tissue, some water, and comfort.
"I hate her," I hear Ana whisper to herself. "I truly fucking hate her."
I look over at my wife in shock, having never heard those words come out of her mouth. Not that I can blame her at the moment...
Finally we get to the point of this trial: the kidnapping of my son. Lucy describes how she came to my hotel room in Germany to speak with me. She then claims I invited her in and we had sex. I tense. This is a bold-faced lie and I want nothing more than to stand up and scream the truth at her. I'm desperately hoping Ana believes I was being honest with her when I told her about Lucy's late night visit to my room in Germany—how it was uninvited and the only reason I touched her at all was to push her away after her advances to kiss me. I chance a glance at her, finding her jaw tense. She's fighting the same anger I am.
Lucy next claims that she and I discussed my son, removing him from my wife's custody to make it easier on me to leave her. She says it was I who told her to use a false name to sign Teddy out of his school to throw Anastasia and the police off our trail. Apparently I purchased the plane tickets and gave her detailed instructions on how to leave the country without being noticed, which included changing my son's appearance by altering his hair color. The hand not holding Ana's is experiencing sharp pain at the moment: I'm digging my fingernails into my palm in an attempt to rein in my temper and I know there will be blood on my hand when I look.
Before the judge calls a recess for lunch, Lucy's attorneys close their argument by stating I was responsible for all of Lucy's actions and her current state of mental instability. She was so deeply in love with me that she followed my instructions blindly and truly believed she was in the right to do so, that she couldn't be held responsible for the kidnapping when I gave her permission to take my son.
For lunch, my parents, Ana, and I walk across the street to a small café. Taylor and Sawyer certainly have their work cut out for them as they keep away the reporters, and I'm relieved that one of them thought far enough ahead to shut the café down so we could eat in privacy. This lunch will cost me a pretty penny, but it's worth it to allow my family a bit of peace.
Ana doesn't look at me for more than a few seconds during our meal. She barely touches her food. And when I ask if she's all right, she only nods. This ordeal is taking its toll on her and I hate myself for putting her through this hell. The only upside at the moment is my father's guarantee that a verdict will be reached by the end of the day, Lucy's fate will be decided, and we can all move on with our lives.
I think this makes Ana feel slightly better, as though there's a light at the end of the tunnel, but I know she's thinking ahead to the afternoon and my turn on the stand. While it's true we've discussed the affair in great detail, unlike all those times, I won't be able to have her in my arms at a moment's notice. I'll have to watch every emotion on her face as she listens to my words at a distance and it's going to kill me not to be able to comfort her.
We walk back to the courthouse with a half hour to spare before the trial resumes and my mother excuses herself to use the restroom. Ana quickly decides to join her, leaving me alone in the hallway with my father who is watching me closely like I'm a ticking time bomb, which is actually what I feel like at the moment.
"How are you holding up?" Carrick asks quietly. I immediately notice the concern in his voice.
I shrug. "Better than I expected," I say with a sigh, running a hand through my hair. "I'm more worried about Anastasia."
Carrick nods thoughtfully. "That's one hell of a woman you got, son," he comments. "The fact that she has the stomach to put up with this shit and hasn't yet flown across the courtroom to scratch out that woman's eyeballs... She reminds me of your mother with how easily she handles all this."
I smile sadly. "She is one hell of a woman. And I'm very lucky to still have her at my side. I spent so long underestimating her strength that I had no idea she could even deal with this sort of thing."
My dad gives me a stern look. "Never underestimate your wife, Christian," he tells me firmly. "That's what leads to this sort of situation. I want to see you and Ana succeed more than anything. So does your mother. Cherish her, Christian. Every day. Tell her how much she means to you and how you can't live without her and show her. And don't you dare let that girl walk away from you again."
I'm speechless. I don't think he's ever given me relationship advice before, usually leaving that task to my mother, since she seems to be the only one I tend to listen to most of the time. As I start to speak, though, we hear a commotion down the hall. We look at one another with wide eyes as we hear familiar feminine voices shouting, even though we can't quite make out what they're saying.
Taking off at a sprint, I hear my father hot on my heels. We slide around the corner and skid to a stop, staring in shock at the scene before us. My mother and wife are standing with their backs to us and I know their faces are beyond furious as they stare at one Elena fucking Lincoln. There's a handprint on the other woman's cheek, and I don't know who administered that handprint—Ana or Grace. All I know is that I've never seen either woman quite like this before and I hope to never see it again.
"I should kill you for what you did to my son," says my mother, her voice full of a quiet rage I've never heard her use.
"What I did to him?" Elena has the nerve to sneer back. "I saved him, Grace. That boy was on the path to an early grave and if it wasn't for me, you'd be down one son."
Grace steps forward with what I believe to be the intention to slap Elena again, but my father snaps out of his stupor to hold her back. "Grace," he says sternly, grabbing her around the waist. "No. She isn't worth going to jail over."
Elena smirks and her eyes find me, immediately narrowing. "Christian," she simpers. "It's so good to see you."
"Fuck off," I growl, grabbing Ana to hold her back from attacking Elena herself. "How did you get in here?"
"I just wanted to see if you and your dear wife," she curls her lip over Ana's title, "have recovered from the unfortunate release of those photographs last evening."
I don't get the chance to speak, as Carrick takes over the situation. "Elena, you are in violation of a restraining order," he states firmly. "If you do not immediately remove yourself from the vicinity you will be arrested and I will take great pleasure making sure you spend years behind bars."
This only seems to amuse Elena. "Oh, Carry," she says with a chuckle. "It truly is a shame you denied my attempts to further our relationship all those times. I do find this stern, professional side of you incredibly sexy."
I don't know how she does it, but my mother tears out of my father's arms, crossed the hall before anyone can stop her and slaps Elena hard across the other side of her face. She's unable to do more as several police officers come around the corner followed closely by Taylor and swarm around Elena. Immediately Elena is placed in handcuffs and is being led away. I don't need to see Elena's face to know she is enjoying being restrained in such a way.
Both Ana and Grace are shaking in fury and I quickly turn my wife around to hold her against me while my father attempts to calm and comfort my mother. After several minutes, Taylor reappears, clearing his throat softly to gain our attention.
"Sir, the trial is about to resume," he informs me quietly.
I nod, looking down at Ana. "Do you want to continue or would you prefer going back to the hotel?" I ask her in a whisper. She's upset as it is and I don't want to worsen it by forcing her to endure the rest of the afternoon.
"No," she says determinedly, looking up at me with blazing eyes. "I won't give them the satisfaction of leaving."
A smile grows slowly across my face. "That's my girl," I murmur, bending to kiss her lips gently. I glance at my parents, and Carrick nods tersely at me, letting me know he and my mother have made the same decision as Ana to see this through.
"Are you all right?" I ask Ana as we retake our seats.
She nods, smirks, and meets my gaze. "Better than okay," she tells me. "I'm fucking great. You have no idea how satisfying it was to slap her."
I don't know why I'm surprised to learn that the first handprint on Elena's face was caused by my wife, but I'm also incredibly proud of her and grateful to both her and my mother for what they've done. It shows just how protective they are of me—or just how much they loathe Elena. Either way, the image of the three of them in that hallway is going to stay with me for years. I can't stop myself kissing Ana even as I'm becoming aware that Lucy and her lawyers are returning to the room. When we part, I look up finding Lucy immediately. She's lost all her color as she stares unbelievingly at us, at me. I think she might have actually collapsed if her lawyer didn't grab her by the arm to keep her steady and lead her to the table. I smirk at the sight and I know Ana is enjoying it as well.
The judge enters and we all stand until he's seated. "I understand there was a situation during the recess," he says briskly, eyes darting between the prosecuting and defense lawyers. "I trust this situation has been dealt with?"
"Yes," says the prosecutor. "There will be no further interruptions."
The judge nods once. "Very well," he says. "Defense, call your next witness."
This is my cue. With one final kiss to Ana's knuckles, I stand when my name is called and stride forward to the witness stand. I'm sworn in and take my seat, keeping my eyes locked on Ana's face. She's giving me an encouraging smile as Lucy's lawyer approaches me.
"Mr. Grey," she barks, her tone completely opposite to the one she used with Lucy. "It has already been established that you had an extramarital affair with the defendant. Do you deny this claim?"
"No," I say evenly.
"Do you deny leading the defendant on in terms of your intentions towards her?"
"I do not," I respond, still looking at Ana.
"Did you or did you not discuss leaving your wife for your mistress?"
My jaw tenses. "It may have come up at one point or another," I state carefully, "though I would not be in the minority of women who offered their mistress a future with no intention of following through so they could continue the relationship."
The lawyer raises a pencil thin eyebrow at me. "That may be the case, Mr. Grey, but your offers and promises were factors in Miss Hastings's actions the day your son went missing."
I can see my father's jaw tense as he fights the urge to undoubtedly yell, "OBJECTION!" at the top of his voice, the lawyer in him overriding the rest of his personality.
"I do not believe my behavior played any part in what Miss Hastings has done," I say smoothly. "I had no part in the planning of her kidnapping my son, nor did I encourage her to do so at any time."
"Yet we have evidence of letters, gifts, recordings of the two of you together," says the lawyer. "To the uninformed eye, it certainly suggests the truth behind your intentions. You purchased all manner of material gifts for Miss Hastings—a car, jewelry, even her condominium. Do you deny this?"
I close my eyes, realizing this was the thing I'd forgotten to mention to Anastasia. The gifts I bestowed onto Lucy were given in a similar vein as ones I have given ex-submissives. I'm not sure what it means that Ana doesn't look the least bit surprised or even overly upset at the news—had this also been something she assumed all along? "I don't deny it," I say quietly. "I know there is no excuse for my affair with Miss Hastings, and I won't insult the intelligence of anybody in this room by believing otherwise. But I want it known that I regret my behavior more than anything. It's because of my relationship with Miss Hastings that my son suffered through being taken by a stranger and that is something I will have to live with for the rest of my life."
The questions begin to take a predictable turn—if I was so in love with my wife, why did I partake in an extramarital affair with Lucy; why did I allow Lucy to believe she and I had a future. I answer every one of them as patiently and calmly as I can manage, never taking my eyes off Anastasia. I'm well aware that if she weren't here with me my reactions and answers would be damning.
With one final statement about my powers of manipulation against Lucy's mental well-being, the defense rests their case. I can't help being left feeling as though their case was incredibly weak and that they didn't even begin to prove I had any negative impact on her or her actions. Judging by the look on the faces of Ana and my parents, they feel the same.
The prosecution only has one question for me. "Mr. Grey, at any point during your relationship with Lucy Hastings, did you ever once believe her to be mentally unsound?"
"No," I answer. "Lucy was always very intelligent and aside from our activities together, she always seemed to have a clear picture of right and wrong. I believe her actions were those of a desperate woman seeking the attention of a man whom she thought to be deeply in love with her when the situation was anything but."
"Thank you, Mr. Grey; that will be all."
Without hesitation, I leave the stand and make my way back to my wife, not even bothering to glance in Lucy's direction as I sit beside Ana, pulling her against me. I don't have the opportunity to speak with her as the judge does so first.
"We will recess one last time while I review the evidence and testimony and determine whether the defendant, Lucy Hastings, was fully aware of her actions on the day in question."
We all rise once more as the judge retreats through a side door I assume leads to his chambers, and turn to my wife, pressing a kiss against her temple. "It's almost over, baby," I murmur.
She sighs, leaning into my embrace. "I know," she replies.
I want to ask her what she's thinking, especially after the revelation of the gifts I gave Lucy during our affair. Ana isn't stupid; she'll have realized the connection of the gifts, all of which I also gave her during the time in our relationship that I wanted her as my submissive. It was all standard behavior for me when I began a contract with a woman. Ana will know this. She said once before that she was uncertain whether it was better or worse that Lucy wasn't my submissive, since she knew I never had an emotional attachment to those women. They were strictly playthings for me. And any time I sensed that they wanted more, I tossed them aside like the unwanted toy I believed them to be. I did the same to Lucy, though for different reasons. I suppose it doesn't matter which scenario was worse; the fact is I betrayed my wife's trust, betrayed our vows, and betrayed her love for me. And as I've said a hundred times before, I will spend the rest of my life giving her back what I took from her and I will not rest until she's satisfied.
The judge returns not half an hour later and retakes his seat, clasping his hands together and leaning forward on the stand. "It is my determination in light of all the testimony and evidence that the defendant, Lucy Hastings, is mentally competent to take whatever punishment the court deems suitable." My heart stops beating and my grip on Ana increases. "As a result of this decision, the defendant will return to the custody this court until the time of sentencing. I would further like it to be known that the affair between Miss Hastings and Mr. Grey, while unacceptable, is what I consider to be of much lesser importance than the kidnapping of a child. I will be recommending the strictest punishment possible for this crime and see to it that it is served to my satisfaction."
The courtroom is silent as the judge ends his statement and leaves. Unless I am very much mistaken, we just won. Lucy will be appropriately punished for what she's done. I don't know when it happened, but I'm standing now and Ana is in my arms crying silently in what I believe to be relief and victory. I hold her close and for the first time since she left me, I feel the weight of the world lifting from my shoulders. We made it to the other side in one piece, united. Nothing else matters.
"Christian," Ana whispers, standing on tiptoe to reach my ear. "I want to go home now."
Those are without a doubt the best seven words she's ever said to me and I agree without hesitation. This has been a day I will never forget and now it's behind us, and we can go on with our lives.