Chapter 16: It is worst to have loved and lost...
AKA: Where's Charlie Tango?

I wonder what the words 'I love you' sound like when they come out of your mouth

although of course I would never get the chance to know

"Kate! Ana!" Mia exclaimed as soon as Mr and Mrs Grey's donation—a week by Lake Adriana in Montana—had been auctioned. "It's time!"

"Time for what?" I asked.

"The First Dance Auction. Come on!" She stood up and encouraged us to follow her. I did so reluctantly, while my blonde friend didn't bat an eyelash.

We climbed onto the stage, with other ten young women. I noted with vague unease Lily was one of them.

"Gentlemen, the highlight of the evening!" the MC boomed over the babble of voices. "The moment you've all been waiting for! These twelve lovely ladies have all agreed to auction their first dance to the highest bidder!"

Oh no. I blushed from head to toe. I hadn't realized what this meant. How humiliating!

"It's for a good cause," Mia hissed at me, sensing my discomfort. "Besides, Christian will win." She rolled her eyes. "I can't imagine him letting anyone outbid him. He hasn't taken his eyes off of you all evening."

Yes, focus on the good cause, and on that Christian is bound to win. Let's face it, he's not short of a dime or two.

"I know, right?" asked Kate, excited someone agreed with her. "They'll give me a cavity."

"You and Elliot are ten times worse," I whispered as the MC encouraged the men to gather around, and Christian, Elliot and Ethan approached the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in the tradition of the masquerade we shall maintain the mystery behind the masks and stick to first names only," began the MC once all the bidders had gathered. "First up we have the lovely Jada."

Jada was giggling like a schoolgirl. She was dressed head to foot in navy taffeta with a matching mask. Two young men stepped forward expectantly. Lucky Jada.

"Jada speaks fluent Japanese, is a qualified fighter pilot, and an Olympic gymnast… hmm." The MC winked. "Gentleman, what am I bid?"

Jada gaped astounded at the MC; obviously, he was talking complete garbage. She grinned shyly back at the two contenders.

"A thousand bucks!" one called. Wow.

Very quickly the bidding escalated to five thousand dollars.

"Going once… going twice… sold!" the MC declared loudly, "to the gentleman in the mask!" And of course, all the men were wearing masks so there were hoots of laughter, applause, and cheering. Jada beamed at the winner and quickly exited the stage.

"See? This is fun!" whispered Mia. "I hope Christian wins you, though... We don't want a brawl," she added.

"He hasn't gotten in a brawl in years," I reminded her, knowing Christian had been very hot-headed when he was a teenager.

I didn't like to think about it, knowing who had managed to make him stop. I had been so horrified when he'd told me about the paedophile that had stopped him from fighting and drinking, but had also abused him, encouraged his walls and distanced him further from his family. He had been free from her clutches for a decade, but some of the scars she had left him reminded.

"Gentlemen, may I present the wonderful Mariah. What are we going to do about Mariah? She's an experienced matador, plays the cello to concert standard, and she's a champion pole-vaulter… how about that, gentlemen? What am I bid, please, for a dance with the delightful Mariah?"

Mariah glared at the MC and someone yelled, very loudly, "Three thousand dollars!"

There was one counter-bid and Mariah sold for four thousand dollars.

Christian was watching me like a hawk. I playfully batted my eyelashes at him, and he winked back at me.

Brawler Trevelyan-Grey. It wasn't exactly what I had focused on during storytime, but now that I thought about it, I had a hard time picturing it.

"How bad was it?" I asked Mia.

Kate, who standing on the other side of the black-haired beauty, had her eyes on the girl at the front of the stage. Despite this, I was willing to bet her journalist's ears were focused on our conversation. I needed to seize the opportunity, though, and question the younger sister.

Mia glanced at me, nonplussed.

"How bad was Christian's brawling?"

She huffed. "Drove my parents crazy, coming home with cut lips and black eyes. He was expelled from two schools. He inflicted some serious damage on his opponents."

I gaped at her.

"Hasn't he told you?" She sighed and continued before I could answer. "He got quite a bad rep among my friends. He was persona non grata for a few years. But it stopped when he was about fifteen or sixteen." She shrugged.

I shook my head. "He had told me about it but didn't go into detail. I didn't want to push."

She looked at me, her eyes more serious than I had seen in the few times we had met.

"You're good for him."

She beamed at me and only the remnant soreness on my butt kept me from rolling my eyes in plain sight of Christian.

Another member for Team Christian & Ana.

I'd bet Grace and Mrs Trevelyan were in it too.

"So, what am I bid for the gorgeous Jill?" asked the MC vigorously.

"Four thousand dollars," a deep voice called from the left side. Jill squealed in delight.

As the auction continued, I stared at Christian. Where we honestly good for each other, despite our differences?

"And now, allow me to introduce the beautiful Ana."

Oh shit, that's me. I glanced nervously at Mia, and she shooed me centre stage. Fortunately, I didn't fall over, but stood embarrassed as hell on display for everyone. When I looked at Christian, he was smirking at me, the bastard.

"Beautiful Ana plays six musical instruments, speaks fluent Mandarin, and is keen on yoga." I snorted quietly. If these men only knew what I was keen on, they would start brawling to get a piece of me. "Well, gentlemen—" Before he could even finish his sentence, Christian interrupted him, glaring at the MC through his mask.

"Ten thousand dollars."

I heard Lily's gasp of disbelief behind me, combined with Kate's and Mia's low shrieks of excitement.

Oh fuck.

"Fifteen," counter-bided a man with a British accent.

What? We all turned as one to a tall, impeccably dressed man standing to the left of the stage. I blinked at Christian. Shit, what will he make of this? I was disconcerted to find him scratching his chin and giving the stranger an ironic smile. It was obvious Christian knew him and maybe even liked him. The stranger nodded politely at Christian.

"Well, gentlemen! We have high rollers in the house this evening." The MC's excitement emanated through his harlequin mask as he turned to beam at Christian. This was a great show, but it was at my expense. I managed not to frown.

"Twenty," countered Christian quietly.

The babble of the crowd had died. Everyone was staring at me, Christian and Mr Mysterious by the stage.

"Twenty-five," the stranger called. Could this be any more embarrassing?

Christian stared at him impassively, but he was amused. It showed at the twitching corner of his mouth, his shining grey eyes, and even his relaxed voice. Of course, you could only tell if you knew what to look for. And apparently, the British guy did know.

"One hundred thousand dollars," said Christian, his voice ringing clear and loud through the marquee. It sounded commanding but nonbelligerent, almost like it did in the playroom, where he knew he was the boss and his every order would be fulfilled accordingly, no questions or defiance possible.

"What the fuck?" Lily hissed audibly behind me, and a general gasp of dismay and amusement rippled through the crowd. The stranger held his hands up in defeat, laughing, and Christian smirked at him. From the corner of my eye, I could see Mia bouncing up and down with glee, and Kate looking just as excited but holding it together in front of the crowd. My subconscious was gazing at Christian, utterly gobsmacked.

"One-hundred thousand dollars for the lovely Ana! Going once... going twice..." The MC stared at the stranger, who shook his head with mock regret and bowed chivalrously.

"Sold!" the MC cried out triumphantly.

In a deafening round of applause and cheering, Christian stepped forward to take my hand and help me from the stage. He gazed at me with an amused grin as I made my way down, kissed the back of my hand dramatically, and then tucked it into the crook of his arm before leading me back to our table.

"Who was that?" I asked as we walked.

He gazed down at me. "Someone you can meet later. Right now, I have to intimidate my sister's suitors."

"Suitors?" I giggled as we sat down. "You won't do such a thing. Let your sister be!"

"Don't mess up with Mia, Christian," scolded him Mrs Trevelyan.

"I'm just looking out for her."

I snorted. "Just don't interfere with her and Ethan. They seem to have hit it off."

"But she's my baby sister," he pouted dramatically and I chuckled.

God, I loved playful Christian. It would seem sparking, an orgasm and winning were a heady combination for him.

"She's my age! Should I be calling my Dad so he can keep an eye on you?" I asked softly, raising my eyebrows challengingly.

"You know you probably should, but I'd rather you didn't."

I giggled like a schoolgirl, captivated by my best friend.

He smiled back at me and leaned to kiss the tip of my nose before pecking my lips. I could swear I heard Mrs Grey and Mrs Trevelyan sigh.

I focused on the bidding just in time to see Elliot buy Kate for a larger sum of money than the other bachelorettes, except myself of course. She had to drag her boyfriend away from the stage when Mia's bidding started and Ethan took a step forward. Kate practically forced Elliot to sit down before perching herself on his lap.

Soon, the biding was over, and we were directed to the dance floor in the other marquee. The girls and I made a pit stop on the powder room to check on our makeup and laugh about our overprotective dates behind their backs before joining the aforementioned men. We chatted for a while, and then we were asked to step on the checkered floor.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the first dance. Mr and Dr Grey, are you ready?" Carrick nodded in agreement, his arms around Grace.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the First Dance Auction, are you ready?" We all nodded, too.

"Then we shall begin. Take it away, Sam!"

A young man strolled onto the stage amid warm applause, turned to the band behind him and snapped his fingers. The familiar strains of 'I've Got You Under My Skin,' filled the air.

Christian smiled down at me, took me in his arms, and started to move. Oh, he danced so well, making it easy to follow. We grinned at each other like idiots as he whirled me around the dance floor.

"I love this song," Christian murmured, gazing down at me. "Seems very fitting." He was no longer grinning, but serious.

"You're under my skin, too," I responded. "Or you were in your bedroom." I smiled widely at him.

He pursed his lips but was unable to hide his amusement, so he grinned back at me.

"Miss Steele," he admonished me teasingly. "You are getting cruder by the day. Next thing I know, you'll be talking back on our nightly chats."

"Keep dreaming, Mr Grey."

The conversation ceased after that, a comfortable silence enveloping us. We were in our own private bubble. I focused on the feeling of his warm body against mine, our brushing legs, and the strong hold his hands had on me. For a moment, I let myself forget my feelings weren't reciprocated and enjoyed the sensation of being between his strong, caring arms.

As the song finished, we both applauded. Sam, the singer, bowed graciously and introduced his band.

"May I cut in?" asked the British man who had bid on me at the auction, who now stood next to us.

Christian grudgingly let me go, but he was amused, too.

"Be my guest. Anastasia, this is my psychiatrist, John Flynn. John, Anastasia."

Oh! Christian had mentioned him only a couple of times after the Leila incident, but I knew he considered him the most competent and likeable shrink he had ever had. It had sounded as though the list of disappointing psychiatrists was long.

Christian smirked at me and wandered off to steal his mother from his father's arms.

"How do you do, Anastasia?" Dr Flynn asked smoothly, his British accent charming.

"Hello," I stuttered. We hadn't even talked, and I already felt as though I was failing a psychological exam.

The band started another song, and Dr Flynn pulled me into his arms. He was much younger than I had imagined, though I couldn't see much of his face. He was wearing a plain black mask, similar to Christian's in size. He was tall, but not as tall as Christian, and he didn't move with Christian's easy grace.

What should I say to him? Why had he bid on me? It was the only thing I wanted to ask him at the moment, but somehow that seemed rude.

That wasn't true. I actually wanted to ask him if he thought Christian and I were good for each other, but I was afraid to know what his answer may be.

"I'm glad to finally meet you, Anastasia. Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"I was," I whispered.

"Oh. I hope I'm not responsible for your change of heart." He gave me a brief, warm smile that put me a little more at ease. I did my best to reciprocate.

"Doctor Flynn, you're the shrink. You tell me."

He grinned. "That's the problem, isn't it? The shrink bit?"

I giggled. "See? You're already analysing my every word! I'm worried about what I might reveal, so I'm a little self-conscious and intimidated. And really, I only want to ask you about Christian, but I shouldn't."

He smiled. "First, this is a party so I'm not on duty," he whispered conspiratorially. "And second, I really can't talk to you about Christian. Besides," he teased, "we'd need until Christmas."

I gasped in shock before snorting. "I bet I would need until Christmas, and I don't know him half as much as you do."

"I wouldn't bet on it," he whispered. I looked at him questioningly, but he ignored my inquisitive eyes.

"You're British?" I asked, deciding to play it safe.

"Yes. Originally from London."

"How did you find yourself here?"

"Happy circumstance."

"You don't give much away, do you?"

"There's not much to give away. I'm really a very dull person."

"That's very self-deprecating."

"It's a British trait. Part of our national character."

"Oh."

"And I could accuse you of the same, Anastasia."

"That I'm a dull person, too, Dr Flynn?" I asked amused. That was coming from someone who probably knew what I did between the sheets.

He snorted. "No, Anastasia; that you don't give much away."

"There's not much to give away."

"I sincerely doubt that." He unexpectedly frowned.

I flushed. The music finished and Christian was once more by my side. Dr Flynn released me.

"Oh, no! I wasn't done talking to the good doctor!" I teased Christian. "Your birthday's coming up and I didn't get a chance to ask him what to gift to a man who already has everything money can buy."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," replied Dr Flynn.

"But I only have a week! And I had to find out his birthday's coming from his sister. You should most definitely discuss this the next time you see him, doc."

"We probably will," he answered, looking pensively at my partner.

"Did you just tattle me to my shrink?" asked Christian disbelievingly.

"What are you going to do about it?" I flirted.

"You'll see, Anastasia."

I bet I would.

Flynn chuckled. "About the gift, it should be cheap but meaningful. Something he'd like but wouldn't buy for himself."

Every single gift Christian had given me came to my mind. Great, not only did I have a week, but I also had to find something perfect for the best gift-giver on Earth. A puppy maybe? No. Mrs Jones wouldn't approve.

"Thanks, Doctor. That's actually useful, although I do think I have my hands full."

"I know you do," he said, looking pointedly at the man who had his warm hand against my lower back. "It's been a pleasure to meet you, Anastasia." He gave me his warm smile again, and I felt I'd passed some kind of hidden test.

"John." Christian nodded at him.

"Christian." Dr Flynn returned his nod, turned on his heel, and disappeared through the crowd.

Christian pulled me into his arms for the next dance.

"He's younger than I expected," I murmured to him. "I think I see why you like him."

"And why is that?"

"Well, he's an interesting person to talk with. He's not afraid to tease you, so I bet he doesn't take any shit from you and doesn't hold back when he has things to say you may not want to hear. Those are important qualities to have when dealing with you."

"Dealing with me, huh?"

I nodded, giggling at his offended expression.

"Plus, the British accent doesn't hurt. Oh!" I exclaimed excitedly. "Can you do a British accent?"

"I should have known you have an accent fetish," he answered discreetly, shaking his head dramatically. "You know I'm not into kinky stuff, Kitty."

I sorted unladylikely before we burst out laughing.

I got to dance through one more song with Christian before his father interrupted us.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself," said Carrick after several seconds of dancing.

"Very much so. I confess I was a bit warry, but Christian has made sure I'm comfortable. This is all so new to me."

"Well, hopefully, you'll get used to it. Something tells me you'll be joining Christian often in such events," he answered. This lot would need Team Christian & Ana matching shirts.

I blushed and muttered, "Maybe."

I looked around the dance floor, growing uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was headed. My stupid subconscious was already daydreaming about Christian asking to marry me with the mere aim to please his family, unknowingly making my dreams come true in the process.

"It's such a worthy cause the one you've got here," I mentioned, watching Christian twirl his sister around the floor. "Christian told me a bit about it, but was reluctant to go into detail, what with his past—" I continued, shutting up abruptly. I didn't want this to turn into an inquisition behind his back.

"He told you about his past? That's unusual. You certainly have had a very positive effect on him, Anastasia. I don't think I've ever seen him so, so… buoyant."

I flushed. "He hasn't shared much. Just enough for me to know not to push. It mustn't be easy to talk about it. I try to respect his space, but sometimes I wonder if making him talk about it would help. I know he's got Flynn, though…"

It felt good to talk about this with someone. Kate wasn't an option, for I couldn't go around spilling Christian's secrets to her. Yet, albeit I barely knew Carrick, he knew Christian's story better than anyone but the man in question. Thus, whatever I told him he already knew, and whatever he answered would be with Christian's best interest in mind.

Carrick remained silent for a bit before volunteering: "My wife was the doctor on duty when the police brought him in. He was skin and bones, and badly dehydrated. He wouldn't speak." Carrick frowned, lost in the awful memory, despite the up-tempo music surrounding us. "In fact, he didn't speak for nearly two years. It was playing the piano that eventually brought him out of himself. Oh, and Mia's arrival, of course." He smiled down at me fondly.

"He plays beautifully. And he's accomplished so much, you must be very proud of him." I sounded distracted.

Holy Shit. He didn't speak for two years.

"Immensely so. He's a very determined, very capable, very bright young man. But between you and me, Ana, it's seeing him like he is this evening—carefree, acting his age—that's the real thrill for his mother and me. We were both commenting on it today. I believe we have you to thank for that."

I think I blushed to my roots. What was I supposed to say to this? In a way, though, he was answering the question I had been asking myself all evening. Apparently, Christian and I were good for each other.

"He's always been such a loner. We never thought we'd see him with anyone. Whatever you're doing, please don't stop. We'd like to see him happy." He stopped suddenly as if he had overstepped the mark. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable."

I shook my head. "I'd like to see him happy, too," I muttered, unsure of what else to say.

"Well, I'm very glad you came this evening. It's been a real pleasure seeing the two of you together."

The last six hours had been the longest of my life. No sooner had I put my things away Friday evening as I was to leave work than Carrick called: Christian and Ros, who had taken Charlie Tango to Portland, had gone missing.

We had congregated in Escala: Grace, Carrick, Mia, Elliot, Ethan, Kate and I. Kate, Ethan and Gail were doing their best to take care of us. I had gone into shock, feeling a penetrating cold the blanket around me couldn't fight. Kate coaxed a cup of warm tea into my hands, and I sipped it distractedly as I stared at the flames dancing in the fireplace.

I was terrified I would never see him again. Never hear him laugh again. Never fall asleep with him again. Never get a chance to hold him.

Never tell him I love him.

Never see him heal and grow.

Never see him love himself and accept the love from his family fully.

Some fool had once said it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, but I knew receiving news that Christian was indeed gone would wreak me. Still, I couldn't bring myself to wish I had never met him.

Grace and Mia didn't look any better than me, while Carrick and Elliot seemed to try to find solace in discussing the situation with Taylor and Ethan, even if the only news we had received was that they had been looking for them, but they had had to call off the search after dark. Christian and Ros were missing, and there was nothing to do at the moment.

Kate, meanwhile, frequently monitored the news on the big plasma in the TV room, in between checking on in the rest of us.

All I could think about was every milestone we had gone through, every first, every compromise. Dining together as friends, watching movies on the couch as something more, and having sex as lovers instead of strangers with a fetish.

I was gazing deep into the fire when Grace shrieked, and everything went into slow motion.

"Christian!"

I turned my head in time to see Grace barrelling across the great room from where she had been sitting, and there standing in the entrance I saw a dismayed Christian. He was dressed in just his shirtsleeves and suit pants, and he was holding his navy jacket, shoes, and socks. He looked tired, dirty, and utterly handsome.

Holy fuck… Christian. He's alive. I gazed numbly at him, trying to work out if I was hallucinating or if he was really there.

His expression was one of utter bewilderment. He deposited his jacket and shoes on the floor in time to catch Grace, who threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard on the cheek.

"Mum?" Christian gazed down at her, completely at loss.

"I thought I'd never see you again," Grace whispered, voicing our collective fear.

"Mum, I'm here." I could hear the consternation in his voice.

"I died a thousand deaths today," she whispered, her voice barely audible, echoing my thoughts.

She gasped and sobbed, no longer able to hold back her tears. Christian frowned, horrified and mortified, before enveloping her in a huge hug, holding her close.

"Oh, Christian," she choked, wrapping her arms around him, weeping into his neck—all self-restraint forgotten—and Christian didn't baulk. He just held her, rocking to and fro, comforting her. Scalding tears pooled in my eyes.

Carrick hollered from the hallway, "He's alive! Shit—you're here!" He appeared from Taylor's office, clutching his cell phone, and embraced both of them, his eyes closed in sweet relief.

"Dad?"

Mia squealed something unintelligible from the couch. Suddenly she was up, running, joining her parents, hugging all of them, too.

Finally, the tears started to cascade down my cheeks.

He's here, he's fine. Yet I couldn't move. All I could do was stare at Christian, alive and well, surrounded by his family's love.

Carrick was the first to pull away, wiping his eyes and clapping Christian on the shoulder. Mia released them and Grace took a step back.

"Sorry," she mumbled, realizing she had touched one of his forbidden zones. He hadn't pulled away, though, and any sign of discomfort I caught seemed to come from his mother's tears, but not from her loving touch.

"Hey, Mum—it's okay," Christian said, consternation still evident on his face.

"Where were you? What happened?" Grace cried and put her head in her hands.

"Mum," Christian muttered. He drew her into his arms again and kissed the top of her head. "I'm here. I'm good. It's just taken me a hell of a long time to get back from Portland. What's with the welcoming committee?"

He looked up and scanned the room until he found me, my eyes still spilling tears and my chin trembling. I drank in the sight of him and relief coursed through me, leaving me spent, exhausted, and completely elated.

Christian turned his attention back to his sobbing mother.

"Mum, I'm good. What's wrong?" Christian said reassuringly. She placed her hands on either side of his face.

"Christian, you've been missing. Your flight plan—. You never made it to Seattle. Why didn't you contact us?"

Christian's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "I didn't think it would take this long."

"Why didn't you call?"

"No power in my cell."

"You didn't stop... call collect?"

"We just wanted to get home."

"Oh, Christian! Don't you ever do that to me again! Do you understand?" she half-shouted at him.

"Yes, Mum." He wiped her tears away with his thumb and hugged her once more. When she composed herself, he released her to hug Mia, who slapped him hard on the chest like only she was allowed to.

"You had us so worried!" she blurted out, and she, too, is in tears.

"I'm here now, for heaven's sake," Christian muttered.

As Elliot came forward, Christian relinquished Mia to Carrick, who already had one arm around his wife. He curled the other around his daughter. Elliot hugged Christian briefly, much to Christian's surprise.

"Great to see you," Elliot said loudly, if a little gruffly, trying to hide his emotion.

As the tears streamed down my face, I could see it all. The great room was bathed in it: unconditional love. He had it in spades; he had just always had a hard time accepting it.

Kate, who was standing behind me, gently stroked my hair.

"He's really here, Ana," she murmured comfortingly.

"I'm going to say hi to my girl now," Christian told his parents. Both nodded, smiled, and stepped aside.

He moved toward me, grey eyes bright, though weary and still bemused.

It triggered a reaction from me, making me stagger to my feet and bolt into his open arms.

"Christian!" I sobbed, oblivious to where my hands were. I grabbed the back of his shirt and sobbed into his chest, not realizing my knuckles were gazing the forbidden zone of his back. Much like with his mother, he didn't recoil from my touch and allowed me to cry in his arms.

He was back, he was hugging me, and I was never ever going to let go of him.

I eventually raised my tear-stained face to his, and he kissed me far too briefly.

"Hi," he murmured.

"Hi," I whispered back, the lump in the back of my throat burning.

"Miss me?"

I chuckled weakly. "A bit."

He grinned. "I can tell." And with a gentle touch of his hand, he wiped away the tears that refused to stop running down my cheeks.

"I thought... I thought—" I choked.

"I can see. Hush… I'm here. I'm sorry," he murmured and kissed me chastely again.

"Are you okay?" I asked, releasing him and touching his arms and his face, barely resisting to touch his chest, feel his heartbeat. The feel of this warm, vital, sensual man beneath my fingers reassured me he was here, standing in front of me. He was back.

He didn't so much as flinch. He just regarded me intently.

"I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere."

"Oh, thank God," I clasped him round his waist, and he hugged me once more. "Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink?"

"Yes."

I tried to step back and fetch him something, but he wouldn't let go of me.

Suddenly, Mrs Jones was at our side. "Can I get you something, Mr Grey?" she asked as she wiped her eyes with a tissue.

Christian smiled fondly at her. "A beer, please, Gail—Budvar—and a bite to eat."

We all sat down on the couches. Christian put his arm around me, and I cuddled against his chest, feeling at home.

Christian explained how they had been flying low, taking a look at Mount St Helens for Ros' sake, when both engines had caught fire. He had been forced to cut the electricity, so he hadn't been able to use the radio. Then, he hadn't had any signal to call anyone from his phone, but luckily, they had been able to use the GPS to find the closest road. By the time they had arrived at a zone with phone signal, though, the battery had been dead, leaving them once again uncommunicated.

Once on the road, a truck driver had been kind enough to drive them to Seattle. Unfortunately, the man hadn't owned a cell phone. Ros and Christian had been in such a rush to arrive home they hadn't thought about finding a phone in a gas station to call us.

"I didn't realize," he concluded, gazing at his family.

"That we'd worry?" Grace scoffed. "Oh, Christian!" she scolded him. "We've been going out of our minds!"

"You've made the news, bro."

"Yeah. I figured that much when I arrived at this reception and the handful of photographers outside. I'm sorry I worried you."

Carrick tried to discuss further the subject of the two failing engines, clearly suspecting fraud, but Christian only wanted to relax for a while. Soon after that, everyone stood up to leave, knowing Christian needed his sleep.

When we climbed to bed, Christian took me in his arms. We lay down front to front, Christian wearing pyjama pants and I, the matching shirt.

"You know," he whispered as he rubbed my back, "in the few seconds of sheer terror before I landed, all my thoughts were of you. You're my talisman, Anastasia."

"I thought I'd lost you," I confessed.

"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he promised, kissing my forehead.

We had been silent for several minutes when I realized he was asleep, his breathing slow and relaxed.

I couldn't follow his lead, though. While half of me was relishing on the fact he was alive and well, the rest of me was still freaking out, thinking about how much I had to lose if he ever left me.

I remembered thinking a few hours ago how I had never told him that I loved him. How I had never heard myself say those words aloud to him.

I needed to learn how it felt while I still could. So, knowing he was sleeping, I closed my eyes, lay my forehead against his and whispered, "I love you".

What I didn't expect was to hear him answer, "I love you too."

Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters, and once again, any recognizable part belongs to E L James, and was quoted from Fifty Shades Darker and/or Darker.

They finally said it! My Christian, thanks to having escaped Elena's clutches several years sooner, is thirty shades of fucked up instead of fifty, so he's a bit less… well, fucked up. Thus, he is, (as a Guest wrote in a review) more in tune with his emotions. This is also partly because Ana introduced him to a part of himself he didn't know existed. Plus, she's been working on his self-esteem, making him see he's more than a rich CEO or a hot Dom. Next chapter, you'll get another look at his thoughts.

That the most dramatic part of the story, and from here on out it will be smooth sailing and lots of fluff, plus tons of 100% original stuff (characters notwithstanding).

Recommendation of the day: Getting Blitzed by Nolebucgirl, Sideline Collision's sequel.