Disclaimer: The characters portrayed in this story are those in E L James's Fifty Shades Trilogy, therefore they remain her property. The plot and themes in this story are those of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with James. No copyright infringement intended.

Next chapter for all you lovely people! The next one will be posted later tonight - well, depending on where you are. UK time atm - 19:30 :)

Much love to you all! Enjoy! :) x

"Can I come in?"

I stumble out of the closet, hearing a knock on the door. Reaching the edge of the walk-in closet divide to the bedroom, Christian slowly opens the previously shut door of our bedroom, leaving it ajar and waiting for my answer.

"Christian, this is our bedroom. You don't have to ask to come in."

"I didn't want to intrude." He whispers, opening the door fully and stepping in. He pushes it to before standing there, unsure of himself.

"I'm pretty sure you've already seen everything I have to offer." I call back to him, heading back into the closet, destined on finding something to wear. What the hell should I wear? Is it a formal thing - dress and heels? Or can I get away with jeans, t-shirt and flats? Christian hasn't exactly told me what thanksgiving is like at his parents house, I have no idea what to expect.

I rummage through the racks of clothes I have hanging from my side of the closet. I miss our closet at Escala and how our clothes lay side by side, touching each other. Sometimes I would take out something and it would smell of him; it would be a small reminder of him every time I moved and caught a breeze, bringing the smell up to my nose, but in this closet his clothes hang on the other side, a collection of dark colours - black, grey and navy suits. The only colour provided by his ties or t-shirts. Always a crisp, white shirt for Mr Grey. I stroke my fingers over the fabrics of the many items of clothing - silks, satins, cotton and linen. I pause, feeling Christian brush past me, making his way over to his side of the small room.

"What should I wear?" I turn to face him.

He stills, swivelling on his heel to face me. "Wear whatever you want. You'll look beautiful no matter what."

I blush; there's something about the way he compliments me - normally I reject any sort of attention, deeming it unnecessary and untrue, but the way he offers it, it's almost enough for me to believe him.

"How does it normally work? At your parents?"

"What do you mean?" His eyes twisting, confused at my question.

"Is it a formal thing? Do I need to dress up? Or is it relaxed? Jeans sort of affair?"

"Honestly Ana, wear whatever you want -"

"No Christian! I want to fit in! Just help me. Please!" I ramble, becoming flustered. Considering everything, you are getting worried over this? My subconscious lurking in the corner, shifting through a pile of underwear and throwing out all the non-sexy maternity ones. Get your priorities right!

"Okay! Okay." He repeats softer the second time, moving towards me and reaching out to my clothes. "Mia's normally the only one who goes all out. Mom just throws on a dress, usually blue for some unknown reason - something that isn't too special. Maybe this?" He turns back to me, holding up a navy blue and white striped dress.

"That's not baby friendly." I shake my head, knowing full well that I'd need to be cut out of it before the end of the day.

He regards it passively in his hand, fiddling with the fabric and working it out for himself. Smiling, he places it back on the rack.

"Are these one's new?" Pointing to the end of the shelf.

I nod my head, watching him move around and inspect each item. I like watching him move around, but it brings me back to the contract - how he'd choose what I'd wear - this is different, I remind myself. I was with Caroline picking these out. I picked them out. They are my clothes.

Holding out a pale blue cotton dress, I stare at him as he looks at it more closely before turning back to me, a smile across his otherwise somber face.

"I like that one." I mumble, reaching out to take it. His face lightens briefly, happy that I approved - as if he needed my approval. As if he needed to prove himself?

Christian smiles once more, handing it over to me and moving back to his side. I follow him with my eyes, watching him take out a pair boxer briefs from the dresser and a pair of grey slacks. We dress in silence, with our backs turned to one another, but I risk turning my head to catch a glimpse of him, my heart softening slightly. Why do you do this?

I underestimated how long it would take to get ready, Christian pacing the floor trying his best to be patient as I fumble around. When I'm done he holds out his hand to me, but I move past him, keeping my head low and leaving the room. I dread having to sit there with his family and pretend that everything is fine, after all I'm like an open book - easy to read, my feelings and thoughts clear on my face. How am I supposed to hide this?

Reaching the door to our house, I move aside, allowing Christian to open it for me - giving him something to do. I catch him in the corner of my eye, glancing down at his BlackBerry before shoving it in his pocket. Part of freezes, what is it? Dread fills me wondering if it's from her. I have no idea how many messages or calls have taken place between them, or if they're still in contact.

"It's Elliot." He mutters, closing the door behind us and leading me over to the SUV sitting on the drive. Taylor and Gail are off, visiting his daughter, Sophie. Christian agreed to us going over to his parents alone, only calling for security if necessary. Everyone is entitled to a break.

"Everyone's already at the house." He answers my question before I even think it, helping me into the car and shutting the door silently, pacing around to the other side.

"This early?" I exclaiming, glancing at the built-in clock on the dashboard. 9:28AM.

"It's tradition. We have dinner early and Mom likes us to all be there to help. Mom cooks. Dad carves. Us kids do whatever the fuck she tells us."

I break out into a smile, thinking of Christian being forced into helping - though not with the cooking, definitely not the cooking!

Through the rest of our journey we sit in an awkward silence, neither of us knowing what to say to each other. Where would we start? It wouldn't be a good idea to start discussing this again, just before 'family' time. This is going to be awful and tiresome.

It take Christian little over half an hour to manoeuvre the traffic down the interstate, bringing us to his parents house in Bellevue. He pulls the car in beside Kate's Mercedes. Turning off the engine we sit quiet for a few moments before he interrupts the tension.

"Ana, is this what you want?"

"Yes. This is your family, we're not going to let them down because we're in the middle of something. We just need to put on a brave face and make it through today, but this isn't over Christian." I unlock my seatbelt, opening the door and climbing out myself.

"You need time. I understand that, but they are your family as well."

"Good."

Christian outstretches his hand for me to take, moving forward towards the front door. I'm in two minds as what to do. I don't know if I want to - yes, I want to but I'm still so angry at him and I don't want him to think that this is nothing! But on the other hand, we need to act as if nothing has happened. Pull yourself together and get on with it already!

Taking a deep breath and closing my eyes I force my hand into his, allowing his fingers to knit through mine. His hand is warm and soothing; almost enough to take away the pain, but nowhere near enough to wipe my mind.

"There you are! Jeez, we've been waiting ages for you to arrive!" Mia shouts at us from the door, pounding over to us and launching her arms around me. I pull my free arm around her, giving in to the welcome hug, unable to get my hand out of his. "How's my two favourite people in the world?"

"Fine." Christian and I blurt out at the same time.

Pulling away, Mia looks at us suspiciously. God, don't tell me it's going to be like this?

"Christian, as much as I love you, I was talking about Ana and this little guy!" Breaking out into a grin she lowers herself to be level with my bump, rubbing her hand over it. "How is he?"

"Good. You know Mia, we don't know that it's a boy?"

"Of course, but Kate said how you were sure that he's a he, and we've all got bets on it. I'm guessing boy, 7 pounds and four days late."

"Thanks!" I squeak louder than expected.

"What?! Mom said first babies are almost always late."

I squeeze his hand a little, scared at the thought of that. It's hard enough waiting another 5 months or so at least, but the idea of being overdue scares me. I want him here.

Looking down at me he smiles, comforting me and giving me that 'don't worry' look. I believe him at first, until that voice comes back. Her voice, ringing through my ears and stirring it up again. Is she ever going to go away?

"You ready?" He whispers to me as we reach the door.

"Just remember to smile."

"No, dear. You sit down and put your feet up. The boys can help me." Grace waves at me from the kitchen. I've hovered around most of the morning, unsure of what I can do to help - needing something to do. Each time I attempted to do something - chop or clean everyone gave that look. I feel as if I'm on a loop reminding them over and over that I'm pregnant, not ill.

"I'd really like to help." I press her again, fiddling with some place settings on the counter, ready to be taken into the dining room. "Please let me do something. I'm feeling redundant."

"Okay then, why don't you and girls lay the table. Everything's already there on the side." Grace calls over, looking up briefly from the stack of vegetables she's dicing. Carrick is lingering behind her, passing her various things. Elliot and Christian standing over in the corner waiting for the next order whilst trying to keep out of the way.

"Thanks."

I gather some of the place settings in my arms, piling them up on each other.

"Here let me." Christian jumping to my side and taking them off me.

"I can do it." I fire back at him. I didn't mean to snap, only realising that I had when he turned to look at his parents behind me. "I'm fine." I force a smile, easing the mood and lowering my voice, though it's not enough to change his expression.

"Ana, please?"

"Okay." I huff, handing them over to him and walking out of the kitchen. Try to not make a scene!

I walk a few paces in front of him, entering the dining room. Kate and Mia are already in here, going over some ideas for the garden - something about a marquee and roses. I slow my pace reaching the table, waiting for Christian to hand over the linen and leave me alone.

He walks quickly to my side, smiling at me, and placing them down in front of me. His fingers trace up my arms as he pulls back. My skin tingling from his touch, and my breathing halted as he stops just before my elbow, removing his fingers - leaving me wanting him. I want his touch.

"I'll do anything. Just please, say you love me?" He whispers in my ear, edging closer to me; teasing me with his tongue.

"Christian -" I mouth, growing uneasy. "Don't do this."

"Baby..."

"I said no! I asked you to give me time, so please respect that."

I slide away from him, moving around the table with the linen in my hands. I try to not look up at him, focusing on the task in hand, but I can't help but glance at him. Fisting his hands into his hair, exhaling loudly and cursing under his breath he sprints off into the kitchen and out of view. I feel like I've been punched. I don't want to do this to him, but how else can I deal with this? How am I supposed to try to work out how I really feel about this if he's clouding my judgment? I still love him. I will always love him. That's what makes this harder.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I'm pulled from my reverie by Kate, lightly grabbing my arm to face her.

"What? Nothing's wrong."

"Cut the crap Steele, I know when something's wrong. Spill!" Raising her eyebrow at me and staring me straight in the eyes. She looks her usual self - perfect blonde hair in waves around her shoulder, wearing a white bandage dress, hugging her curves perfectly and emphasising her cleavage. I know that Elliot will approve!

"There's nothing to tell." I fire back my pre-planned answer, making a start on laying the table. "And I'm not Steele anymore. You know that pisses him off."

"How cares, he's pissed off anyway. You both are. Now tell me what's wrong!"

"Kate, please, just drop it." I look up at her, slightly higher in her heels compared to my flats.

"Come on, just tell me what it is and I'll drop it. Pinky swear." Grinning at me, she holds up her little finger. My mouth falls open into a smile for a moment before returning back to its previous hard-line.

"We had an argument yesterday afternoon. We haven't really spoken yet. This morning we spoke a little but there's still a lot to discuss."

"How bad of an argument are we talking? Screaming and shouting, leading to hot sex afterwards? Or lovers tiff that is going be over in minutes?"

"Locking myself away in the bathroom telling him to fuck off, refusing to speak to him and sleeping alone." I mumble.

"Fuck! What has that bastard done now?" Kate snaps, shouting at me.

"Kate!"

"Sorry!" Apologising; noticing that Mia is in earshot. "But seriously, what has he done?"

"How do you know that he's to blame? I might have done something."

"Come on, we both know that's not the case. Any how, he has a face like a smacked behind. He only looks like that when he's in trouble with you."

"He lied to me. He's been keeping things me and I finally got the truth out of him." I try to keep my voice down, making sure that Mia won't catch wind of what we're discussing.

"Lied to you about what?"

I glance down at my hands, running my thumb over the fabric between my fingers. I feel bad for talking about this, having made the point of saying that no one should know, but I need to tell someone.

"Mrs Robinson."

"Fucking Grey!"