I do not own these characters. All rights go to E.L. James.

"Falling For You"

Chapter 37 – Falling Apart

Christian's good mood had deteriorated somewhat by the time the wedding ceremony began. The clouds overhead threatened to let loose a downpour, but his mother's wedding consultant, who he had learned an hour ago was also her hairdresser…insisted that they'd be rain free for hours yet. Christian wasn't so sure and, from the glances the guests kept throwing at the sky, he guessed he wasn't the only one who was nervous. He had been able to convince the caterer to erect a small tent over the food so at least that was one less thing to worry about.

The wind started to pick up, whipping up the bright pink and purple balloons his mother had insisted be tied to people's chairs.

"They're festive," she'd said.

Christian pointed out that they were also a nuisance, but she refused to relent. Now, as the wind gusted, they thrashed about, striking people randomly on the back of the head or right in the face.

Standing at the front of the small crowd, Christian shook his head and continued to survey the scene out of the corner of his eye. The vases of fresh flowers near the lake where the ceremony was taking place had already tipped over twice and Christian had surreptitiously had them removed while his mother was saying her vows. The musicians' sheet music kept flying out of their stands and over the lawn, causing odd breaks in the music that grated on his ears.

All of this kept Christian so busy, he barely had time to greet Ana and her family before being forced to take care of yet another pending disaster.

He prayed it would all be over soon, and then sent up a silent thanks as the reverend said the magic words: "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Jerry grabbed Christian's mother in a passionate embrace, which Christian was saved from watching as Grace's neon pink hat flew off her head and came sailing his way. He started after it, and then drew up short when a tennis shoe clad foot stomped down on the brim.

Straightening, Christian came face to face with another pair of gray eyes, lighter than his own but similar enough to allude to a familial connection.

"Elliot, what are you doing here?"

"I was invited, so don't even think about calling the cops," his brother answered belligerently.

Christian took a step backward at the stench of stale liquor on Elliot's breath. Of course, he should have known Elliot would show up drunk. What else could possibly go…

A clap of thunder interrupted Christian's thought. The downpour started almost immediately.

"Everybody under the tent," he shouted before bending down to pick up his mother's hat. Elliot stumbled a bit as he shifted his feet.

"Come on, let's get out of the rain," he suggested, starting toward the tent.

"Stop ordering me around, Christian."

Christian stopped, closing his eyes at the petulant tone in his brother's voice. If Elliot wanted to come to their mother's wedding, that was fine, but Christian didn't want to be dragged into a fight with him. Not today. He wanted this whole thing over with so he could be alone with Ana and tell her how he felt. Tell her how much she meant to him. He did not want to stand here, arguing with his brother about the same things they'd argued over a million times in the past ten years.

"Fine then, stand out here in the rain. Don't let me stop you," he said, before turning and walking away, leaving Elliot standing out in the chilly October rain.

The undersized tent was bursting at the seams with people as Christian stepped under cover. Fortunately, a cool breeze wafted in from the open side so it wasn't stifling. There was plenty of food set out on the tables that flanked the closed sides, and a bar had been set up in the corner. It might not have worked out as perfectly as Christian would have wanted, but he was surprised to see that people were generally laughing good-naturedly about the situation.

Of course, free booze always helped people's attitudes, Christian thought dryly as he watched the wine begin to flow. He saw Jerry and his mother huddled close together in one corner, and let his gaze run over the crowd, searching for Ana.

He found her surrounded by people, holding Ava in her arms. She appeared to be listening earnestly to something the little girl was saying, a slight smile on her lips. Christian stepped back against the side of the tent, a sudden tightness in his chest. The sounds of the partygoers washed over him as he stood there, watching. He realized that what he had thought was just an illusion wasn't. Ana didn't appear to brighten a room; she did brighten a room, just as she brightened his life.

He'd been an idiot to ever push her away. She made his life fun and unpredictable, and was kind and compassionate besides. He didn't know at what point she had insinuated herself into his heart but now he realized he wanted to hold onto her…forever.

He loved her. It was as simple as that. He'd made a mess of things so far, but there was time to fix that. After this whole wedding fiasco was over, he'd have plenty of time to tell her how he felt. Smiling, Christian leaned back against a cold metal tent pole.

Still holding Ava in her arms, Ana turned to Paul, who held a small brown and white lump of wiggling fur. Christian had seen Ana's mother earlier with her little dogs and assumed Paul had been given charge of one of them.

"See, she's a nice doggie," he heard Ana encourage as she reached out and patted the dog.

Ava put out a tentative hand, drawing back with a squeal as a pink tongue snaked out toward her fingers. Ana laughed. "Here, she was just going to lick you." Ana held out her own hand and Ava giggled as Kate…or was it Ethan?...gave her fingers a bath.

Suddenly, Ana spotted a familiar figure in line at the bar and frowned.

What was Elliot from the homeless shelter doing here? Had John sent him to look for her? Was there some sort of emergency? How would John have known that she'd be here at Christian's house? Whatever the reason, she was going to give him a piece of her mind for stealing the ring her father had given her. Homeless or not, he had no right to take something of hers, and she wasn't going to let it slip by, as if nothing had happened.

"Paul, can you watch Ava for a minute?" She handed the little girl over with a promise to bring her back some cake, then made her way through the crowded room.

"What are you doing here, Elliot? What did you do with my ring?" she asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

Droplets of water splattered as he turned around. Ana was startled by the venom in his eyes. What in the world was he so mad at her about? After all, he was the one who had stolen something from her, not the other way around.

He answered the first question first. "I'm the son of the bride, or the son of a bitch, depending on who you ask."

Ana's mouth dropped open. He was Christian's brother? Ana studied the other man for a moment. Elliot looked so much more used up than Christian, with lines of dissipation and unhappiness etched at the side of his mouth. His lips were thinner than Christian's, his eyes a lighter gray, but there was definitely a resemblance between the two; one she thought she'd only imagined when she'd first seen Elliot at The Soup Kitchen.

He spoke again before she could say anything. "I guess I have as much right to be here as Christian's newest piece of ass."

Ana took a step back from the snide tone in his voice. "That was uncalled for, Elliot. I've never done anything to you to deserve such disrespect."

"Bullshit. You lied to me about that piece of crap ring you were wearing. Precious jewels from Daddy, huh? God damn piece of glass, that's all it was."

"I never said it was worth anything to anyone except me, and besides that, you stole it from me. What did you want, a certificate of authenticity?" She was angry now, too.

"What the hell's going on here?" Christian appeared suddenly at her side.

Ana didn't even see Elliot's fist until it connected with Christian's chin. It must have surprised Christian, too, because it connected squarely with his face and knocked him off balance.

"Why, you…you jerk," Ana sputtered.

"Shut up." Elliot shoved her. Hard.

Ana fell backward, tripping over something that yelped in protest. Her hip hit one of the tables laden with food, and Ana watched in horror as the top of Grace and Jerry's three-tiered wedding cake swayed toward her. In an attempt to stop the inevitable, Ana reached out to grab the pink-and-purple frosted cake, which she could have saved if only she'd had both feet on the ground. Trying to regain her balance, she put down her right foot only to jerk it back when it came down on something soft. There was another yelp. Her left foot slipped and she fell, trying to avoid squashing one of her mother's dogs as she landed in the grass, the garishly frosted confection sliding down on top of her.

She opened her eyes when a warm, pink tongue caressed her cheek.

Concerned faces tinged with amusement surrounded her, and Ana sighed. Assuring everyone she was fine, she sat up, wiping purplish blueberry cake from her blouse as she battled her misery.

Why did this sort of thing have to happen to her whenever Christian was around? It was no wonder he couldn't wait to get rid of her. She was a publicity nightmare.

She blinked when a photographer, there to cover the wedding of the mother of one of the wealthiest men in Seattle, snapped a picture as she sat on the lawn, globs of cake being nibbled off her skirt by three hungry dogs. For want of a better term, she knew this would be the icing on the cake for Christian. He hated bad publicity; she'd discovered that after the episode with the reporters outside the counterfeiter's warehouse. This was even worse. There was no way she could slant this story. No fake publicity stunt she could chalk it up to. Instead, she knew the paper would find some way to make the story even more sensational, and Christian's name would be right in the middle of it. He would be humiliated. If nothing before had convinced her that she and Christian had no chance of staying together, this episode proved it without a crumb of doubt.

A pink frosting rose dropped from the top of her head onto her skirt. The photographer's flashbulb went off again and he snickered as he backed away.

At that moment, Ana knew any lingering hopes that remained of a relationship with Christian had disappeared like the bright spots in front of her eyeballs. Tears gathered in her eyes and she lowered her head miserably.

A pair of Italian leather shoes stopped in front of her. Ana sniffed.

"You okay?" Christian crouched down on the ground and wiped a smear of frosting off her forehead.

Ana nodded morosely. He looked perfect, as always. Even being knocked down by his brother hadn't seemed to have affected the tidiness of his appearance. It was as if his clothing wouldn't dare get out of place, no matter what forces worked upon them. She looked into stormy gray eyes that had become so dear to her and, not wanting to give him the opportunity to tell her what she already knew, that there was no hope for a future with him, she changed the subject. "Where's Elliot?" she asked.

"Out cold. He had no right to treat you like that." Christian shrugged, and Ana had to resist the urge to reach out and touch his strong arms, to pull them around her own shoulders and hug him tight. She missed him already.

"Go away, Kate." She shooed the little dog that was licking her skirt, then caught Christian's raised eyebrow. "The dogs. My mother named the dogs after her children. Don't ask." She shook her head, anticipating his next question, which had to be, "Why?"

Ana watched as a grin spread across Christian's face. It was like watching the sun emerge from the gloomy October clouds, and she wondered how he could smile when she felt like crying.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you cleaned up." Christian stood up, offering her his hand. Ana grabbed his strong fingers in hers as if reaching for a life preserver. She closed her eyes briefly in misery as he helped her to her feet.

The party continued around them as they made their way across the tent toward the house. Ana wished she could leave right now, before Christian had a chance to tell her he never wanted to see her again, but she knew they might as well get it over with, even if fleeing seemed awfully tempting right about now…

"You're not plotting your escape, are you?" Christian asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Of course not." Ana blushed as Christian led her through the crowd. Since when had he become a mind reader?

He stopped and turned her to face him. "You were. You were thinking about escaping again," he said incredulously before rolling his eyes heavenward and shaking his head. "I can see I'm going to have to board up the entire first floor to keep you around."

Ana felt a sudden glimmer of hope in her heart. He wanted to keep her around? Even after she'd embarrassed him in front of everyone again?

"Christian…" she began, trying not to sound too pathetically hopeful.

"Where do you two think you're going?" Elliot's sullen voice interrupted.

"Go way, Elliot. Ana and I need to talk and you've already caused enough trouble here." Christian guided Ana out into the light rain and away from his brother.

Elliot followed them. "I told you to stop bossing me around, Christian. You've told me what to do my entire life and I'm sick of it!" he shouted.

"Can you wait a minute?" Christian asked her.

Ana nodded. The way she looked now, a little rain wouldn't make a difference. They stopped near the concrete breakwater separating Christian's lawn from the gray waters of Lake Washington. The lake was fairly deep on the other side of the wall, built that way so the homeowners' boats could come right up to the edge of the lawn to load and offload their passengers.

"It's obvious you need someone to tell you what to do, Elliot. Look at you, you are homeless, you are drunk, and you are throwing away your talent because you don't have the backbone to live your life without help from me. I'll admit I should have been easier on you about college. I shouldn't have tried to force you to major in something that didn't interest you. Does that help? I wanted what was best for you, and obviously I was wrong to try to force my own will on you. But you're twenty-eight years old now. There's nothing stopping you from accomplishing anything you want. You're not some kid who has to rely on his parents for money or approval. You want to go back to school and major in photography? Then do it." Christian's voice was calm, reasonable, as he strode over to stand in front of his brother.

"Yeah, that's easy for you to say. You, with all your money, you don't have to worry about paying rent or school loans."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ana absently watched a twenty-something-foot Bayliner approach, the motor getting louder as it came closer to the concrete wall. Must be one of the wedding guests arriving late, she thought, listening to Christian as he contradicted Elliot's weak argument.

"You have no idea what kinds of things I have to worry about, Elliot. Things like meeting payroll, staying ahead of the major record labels, and making sure I'll be in business fifty years from now so I can guarantee my employees a secure future. When I was younger, I didn't have a dime to my name either. You can't tell me you've forgotten the dump of an apartment I lived in? How many nights did you come over to help me package up CDs for shipping? A thousand? Don't you remember that all we ever ate was macaroni and cheese? Did you think that's because I liked it? Shit, I hated that stuff. But it was cheap and I was broke. So that's what I ate for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

Christian and Elliot were so engrossed in their argument; they didn't even turn their heads as the boat's engine slipped into neutral when it came alongside the seawall. Ana was surprised to see that Ros Bailey was a passenger. The driver of the boat had his back to her and Ana could see red curls poking out of the bottom of a dark baseball cap.

"Hi Ros. What are you doing here?" Ana automatically caught the line Ros threw and looped it loosely around a cleat.

"I have some business to discuss with Christian," Ros said smoothly, hopping easily off the boat and onto the lawn next to Ana. Her hands were buried in the pockets of an oversized windbreaker and Ana wondered how she'd managed to keep her balance. She knew if it was her, she'd probably have ended up face first in the water, but that seemed to be her own particular brand of luck. Nobody else seemed as cursed as she was.

Ana started to tell Ros that today was perhaps not a good day to bother Christian with business when the driver of the boat turned toward her. Ana gasped. It was the man she'd seen in the warehouse when she and Paul had gone to look around the first time.

"Get in the boat," Ros hissed, drawing a gun out of her pocket and pointing it at Ana's chest.

Suddenly, realization smacked her in the face. Ros had been the woman who'd had her back to the window at the warehouse the day Ana peeked inside. That was why her gesture this morning seemed familiar. Why hadn't she realized it earlier?

"Why are you doing this?" Ana asked.

"Shut up. If you don't get in the boat, Stephen will shoot your little boyfriend."

Christian could hardly be considered little, but Ana didn't think it prudent to argue the semantics with the red-headed man's gun pointing at the back of Christian's head.

"All right, I'm going." Ana put one foot on the seawall and tried to balance the other on the rocking boat.

"Get in!" Ros pushed her from behind and Ana screeched as she landed in a heap at the bottom of the boat. Ros tossed the rope on top of her as Ana struggled to sit up.

Ros' shout was loud enough to interrupt Christian and Elliot's argument, and Christian turned to look at the boat. "Ana? Ros? What's going on? Stephen, is that you?" Christian raised his voice against the rising wind as Ros hauled Ana up and stood behind her, holding the gun to her head.

"Let's get the brother, too. It'll be nice to have insurance," Ros said, then pointed with her free hand to Elliot. "Get in here or she dies."

Ana shivered at the empty sound of the other woman's voice as the cold metal barrel of the gun dug into her temple. She had never suspected that Ros was a few fries short of a Happy Meal, but it was obvious something was very wrong here.

"Just wait a minute, Ros. Let's talk about…" Christian began.

The sharp sound of a gunshot echoed in the quiet neighborhood, cutting off Christian's plea. Elliot screamed, grabbing his left hand. "Get in now or Stephen will kill you," Ros ordered, her eyes locked on Elliot's.

Without hesitating, Elliot pushed past Christian and leaped into the boat, leaving a trail of blood from the wound on his hand on the white fiberglass.

Christian stepped forward, his hands reached out in appeal. "No, don't do this. Ana…"

"Stephen, pull away so he can't reach us," Ros interrupted. The driver, who Ana assumed to be Stephen although they hadn't been formally introduced, gave the engine some gasoline and the boat pulled away from the shore.

"Yes, Ana. She ruined our plan, Christian, and we're going to make her pay," Ros yelled above the engine.

"What are you talking about?" Christian sounded as confused as Ana felt.

"You'll find out soon enough. Hit it, Stephen."

AN: Chapter Title Song – "Falling Apart " by Michael Schulte