All rights belong to E. L. James; story line is mines as are any additional characters therein.

4 years earlier 2016 – Dr Richard Harper

I stretched languidly as I awaken in the guest bedroom. I hate sleeping in here, since I only ever sleep in here when she's being impossible to deal with. I don't know if it's because she's truly upset with being infertile or if it's because she just doesn't want to have the IVF treatment. I don't understand why she is refusing, I made no secret of the fact that I wanted children when I proposed marriage a little over eight years ago; we had a quickie wedding a few weeks later. Although we decided to wait a while to settle into our new life of a married couple, I didn't for a minute think that we'd still be childless seven years later, two of which have been spent actively trying to get pregnant.

Being in the business of gynaecology has its advantages, but apparently that doesn't mean jack shit when you're my wife. The only things that she has tried were the fertility drugs – and they didn't help her uterus, which is rejecting the impregnation process – if she had IVF, with a pre-fertilized egg we wouldn't have a problem getting pregnant. Whenever I try to discuss that fact she always sighs heavily and says,

'Mother nature has decided that I'm not supposed to be a mother, we need to respect that'

I mean the way that she says mother, it's like she's disgusted by the mere notion of a child. If she felt that way she could have just told me so when I proposed, I want a family – and evidently she does not. I guess that's when the sex stopped and the fighting started. All we ever do is argue, about silly inconsequential things, I think I may be harbouring some resentment towards her but I can't help but feel angry. I have always wanted a couple of kids, to spoil rotten, what's the point in a success if you have no one to share it with? I'm starting to think that's the only reason she married me was because I was successful and I had a lot of money at a relatively young age; working with Seattle's elite means that I get paid top dollar for the most basic of tasks – I have showered her with love, diamonds and a massive family home. She can have anything her heart desires, yet she won't even consider giving me the one and only thing that I have ever wanted.

For the last few weeks, I have had this nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that she is having an affair; I am hoping and praying to be wrong. I have to know one way or another; I can't keep living like this, wondering where she is and who she's with, doubting everything she says to me. So I decided to tell her that I am away to a medical conference in New York, but really I am watching the house, waiting to see if someone comes over, or she runs off to meet whomever she's fucking around with. She didn't go out the door all day yesterday or today and I'm starting to feel very foolish for doubting her. I'm just about to pull away when she comes walking out the door. I feel myself harden at the sight of her.

She's never dressed up like that for you since the beginning of your relationship – my heart constricts as I think of what or rather whom she's dressing up for. She gets in the car that I bought her with the money that I worked hard for and I watch her drive off down the street. I let her get a little ahead of me. I feel like a fucking idiot for sitting in a rental car, with a cap slung low on my head so that she doesn't recognize me and staying at a hotel in the city instead of being at home, but evidently my instincts were right, she is having an affair and now all that's left to do is to find out whom it's with.

I follow her to some club in the Pike Place market district. I wait in the car for a little while because I can't risk her seeing me just yet – twenty minutes later I get out of the car and walk in. I order a beer at the bar and sit over at one of the tables at the very back of the club, where I can see all around the room. I spot my wife talking to who I assume is a member of staff, then sits at the bar alone. My stomach is in knots and I am so anxious – how could she to this to me, to us?

Calm down, she hasn't done anything wrong yet!

I feel my heart rate increase as an older man wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her cheek. She won't look up at him, she keeps her eyes down the entire time her speaks to her. He takes something out of his pocket and fastens it around her neck – the fuckers buying her jewellery? I have bought her thousands and thousands of dollars' worth of jewellery, why isn't that enough?

I feel the bile rise in my throat when I see him attach a chain to whatever he put around her neck, then tugs her into his arms, roughly grabbing her face and kissing her, she must be terrified, he must have some sort of hold over her and she's too scared to come and tell me!

Or maybe she just like's it… rough? – No! That's impossible; she wouldn't be into this sick and twisted shit! I focus my thoughts back on watching them as he leads her by the chain upstairs. I sit back and watch them enter room number four and wait for a little bit, I'm going to confront her about this, right fucking now! I am livid; I feel the anger bubbling deep down inside, but most of all I'm fucking heartbroken.

Leave them long enough to get in a compromising position, otherwise she'll talk her way out of it, you know that she will.

I decide to finish the beer that I bought, I slam the bottle back down on the table and walk up the stairs, the door will probably be locked, but I work out and I'm in great shape, two or three kicks should suffice, I don't care what happens afterwards. I just want this to be done, to know beyond a doubt that she has done this to our marriage, I have loved her from the minute I met her, and I've given her everything I have. But it obviously wasn't good enough. I stand outside the door, and take a few deep breaths; my heart is beating so fast! I exhale through my nose and hit the door with every ounce of strength that I have, which makes the door bounce open so fast that it bangs off the wall and comes back at me and I have to catch it with my hand! Out of all the horrifying scenarios that my mind has concocted these last few weeks could not have prepared me for what I see before me. My beautiful, loving wife whom I adore, and would give my life's blood for is restrained, standing in a spread eagle position, stark naked and being hit with … a cane? Her expression, which was of pure pleasure prior to opening her eyes, drains of color.

"Richard, please – RED!" Red? What the fuck does that mean, I assume it is used to stop whatever was going on before I came in here because the blonde son of a bitch who was physically beating my wife starts to remove the restraints, and passes her a robe. I'm standing there, I know that my whole world has just ended, but I'm numb – I don't feel… anything. I expected to want to beat the shit out of that guy but as he walks past me he stops and looks, remorseful

"I assume you're either her husband or boyfriend and I specifically state that I only want a single, and available submissive, I am going to go complain to the management then take my business elsewhere. I am truly sorry, I didn't know she was … involved" Then turns and walks out. I feel tears spring to my eyes as I look at the woman I call my wife; the first thing that comes to mind is the age old question.

"Why?"

"Richard, I'm sorry – please, I didn't mean for this to get so, so out of hand! I've resisted for years, I got out of the scene when I met you, you took me out of it and I… I just" Tears stream from her eyes.

"Is everything alright here Ma'am?" I turn towards the source of the voice and note that the burly security standing behind me.

"Everything's fine, can you please give us a moment alone?" The man nods at her and steps away, pulling the now broken door closed as best he can; it's funny the way your mind thinks about the strangest details when something traumatic happens. I focus on her face, her eyes downcast, just like before with him.

"Look at me," She slowly lifts her gaze to my own

"So you've always done…" I look around the room, then rest my eyes on her in disgust "This?"

"Don't look at me like that Richard, please don't look at me like I disgust you – I can't take it" The numbness that I'd initially felt finally passed and all I felt was rage. I rush forward at her and roughly grab her throat, and push her back into the wall, my breath coming laboured because of the adrenaline coursing through my veins

"So this is what you like, this excites you? Hmm?" I can see that it does, but I want conformation, I want to hear her say it.

"Fucking answer me? You want me to treat you like this?" I take my other hand and squeeze her cheeks; I know that I shouldn't be doing this, that no level of betrayal can warrant this kind of behaviour, except maybe that doesn't apply to a closet submissive wife who gets her kicks from being beaten.

"Do I turn you on doing this, treating you like this…? FUCKING ANSWER ME?"

"Yes, oh god yes!" I am flabbergasted. I lean in as if I'm going to kiss her, to know that this is what she likes, this is how she wants to be treated… I feel like I don't even know who she is. My lips are just hovering mere millimetres from hers and I whisper

"I have loved you from the moment I met you, I knew when I met you that I wanted you to be my wife, to have an affair is… almost unforgivable, but Allyson, you disgust me. You make me sick; the thought of being with some deviant like you makes me want to vomit, an affair I could have forgave and we could have moved on in time, but this" I let her go and motion around the room

I see the pain and hurt of my words in her tears, part of me wants to say sorry, to pull her into my arms and hold her, to comfort her, but it's a very small part. The larger part is still reeling from finding her doing all of this shit.

"This, what you do, what you like, it's unforgivable. I want a divorce" I hear her strangled sob and she wraps her arms around my neck

"Richard, please don't do this – I'm sorry, I'll do anything please don't leave me. I know I need to get help, and I will, I promise just please don't leave me" I put my hands around her forearms and out of habit stroke my thumbs back and forth on her skin. The tears are streaming down both our faces and I feel like I can't breathe. Her arms were like a vice grip around my neck, but eventually I managed to pry them off.

"It's too late. You're beyond help!" I forced the words past the lump in my throat, and turned away – I could hear her hysterical behind me but I kept walking, just to the car, just get in, just drive. The only thoughts running through my mind were; where do I go? What do I do now?

Oooooooh ... what are your thoughts? What do you think is going to happen? Some of you guessed correctly, yes Allyson and Richard were married. They met a few months after Allyson stopped subbing for Christian the first time (Back when he was 23) If anyone is confused about the time line or anything else add a review, or send me a PM and I'll try my best to help with some clarification!

- Love Susie. xox