A/N IMPORTANT. I thought I'd made it pretty clear in the last chapter what happened, but several reviewers seem to still misunderstand what went on. Firstly, Christian was NOT raped. He was coerced into Leila giving him a hand job and grinding against him. That is all. He is still a virgin. There was no penetration. She did not see his penis. He did not touch her. Christian was complicit in the beginning when he was speaking to her and trying to prove he was a man, however the drugs made him hazy and I therefore chose to use the trigger 'sexual assault' just as a caution. But there was definitely not a rape that took place, or anything other than a hand-job.

Secondly, I've had a couple of reviewers complaining about how I originally said 'daily updates.' That was the original plan yes. Unfortunately, due to the pandemic and other problems, I am unable to update every single day. However, I frequently upload this story at least 4 times weekly. I will now retract this statement and have updated the information in the story synopsis to reflect this.

Thirdly, I have almost removed the word 'fluffy' from the synopsis. People continue to tell me they no longer wish to read the story and that's fine. However, I do not see what is to be gained by leaving hateful comments. If you do not enjoy it, do not read it. Nobody is forcing you.

I continued discontinuing the story, however I realised that would be unfair to my fans and readers that have stuck by me throughout the years. For all my fans that continue to enjoy the story and trust it's journey, thank you, I appreciate you all so much, and this is for you. Love always – Elizabeth 3

My mind was racing as I fled. My heart beat twice as fast. I couldn't comprehend what I'd just seen...

Christian was with another girl. Kissing. Touching. She was touching him... I hadn't even touched him yet.

A sob broke through that I couldn't control. I made my way downstairs and out into the fresh air. I didn't know where I was going, or what I was going to do, but I needed air. I couldn't be in that house right now.

I heard footsteps behind me. I couldn't look around; I didn't want to see him right now. There were a few people outside smoking. Elliot's friend Michael was leaning against his car, talking to a girl.

And then I heard a thud and turned instinctively. Christian was hunched over on the floor, his arm bleeding profusely. A wave of panic washed over me as I ran over. My feelings aside, there was no way I was going to leave him there.

"Christian, come on," I said, crouching down in front of him.

He didn't answer or even appear to have heard me. Then, he vomited over himself. I stepped back as Michael came running over and hauled him up.

"Come on buddy, let's get you back inside," he said, helping him walk back to the house.

I followed silently behind, feeling nosy prying eyes on me.

Once inside Christian's room, I told Michael I'd sort him out.

"He's just drunk," he assured me. "Uh...he had a joint earlier. That might be it."

I pursed my lips as he left. So he was drunk and high...it was still completely inexcusable. I could barely look at him.

"Sit down," I ordered him. He obeyed and I went to his bathroom to fetch a damp cloth.

In silence, I wiped over his face and pushed his hair back. There was a nasty bruise forming from where he must have banged it.

"Arms up," I said. He dutifully obeyed once more.

I chanced a look at his face. His eyes were expressionless. Just how high was he? He couldn't even talk...

I peeled the vomit covered clothes off his body and dumped them in the laundry basket. With a start, I realised he'd ran out of the house with just his boxers on. They were damp too and when I realised what it was...I almost vomited myself.

"How could you?" I whispered, helping him shrug out of them. My eyes were filled with tears.

I couldn't look. I wouldn't look. Not like this. Nothing about this situation was remotely appealing.

He changed into new boxers slowly. I fetched a clean t-shirt and helped put it on. I knew he would be mortified when he was sober that anyone had seen him like this. That I had.

After that, I grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom and tended to his arm. I cleaned it and he flinched at the sting. I didn't feel sorry for him. After wrapping a bandage around it tightly, I looked up to see that his eyes were closed.

He was asleep.

I pushed him back on the bed and covered him with the blanket.

And then I broke down.

Kate found me sometime later. I let her in and cried as I told her everything. She held me all the way through, stroking my hair.

"It's okay," she whispered. "When he's sober tomorrow...we'll see what he has to say."

I shook my head. I never wanted to speak to him again.

Kate stayed with me through the entire evening. I wouldn't leave Christian's room, I had to make sure he was okay and didn't vomit in his sleep or anything.

Around 2am, the party died down. By 3, everyone was practically gone apart from some of Elliot's close friends. Kate bought me up water and covered me with a blanket when I inevitably fell asleep on Christian's couch.

I woke to daylight streaming in the window. To my left, Kate was curled around me fast asleep under the blanket on the couch. A surge of affection washed over me. She'd really stayed with me all night.

I was uncomfortable. My dress was digging in my side and my earrings were stabbing my ear. Checking my phone, I realised it was almost 8am and I got up with a start. Kate murmured something intelligible and rolled over. I looked over at Christian's bed and saw he wasn't in there. I was about to start panicking when I heard him in the bathroom. The door was open, so I went toward it. He was brushing his teeth, his hair in disarray. His eyes were blood-shot and the bruise had deepened in colour. Our eyes met. None of us said anything as he put the toothbrush down.

"Can you speak?" I asked, surprised by the hoarse sound of my own voice.

He nodded. "Yes."

I fidgeted, dropping my gaze. I couldn't look at him.

"And you're okay?" I asked. "You feel okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

I nodded and then turned around, heading back into the room and gathering my things. I shook Kate awake.

"Come on, were leaving," I said to her.

She grumpily got up, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. I threw her shoes at her at the same moment Christian came out of the bathroom.

"Ana," he pleaded.

I spun around so fast I almost got whiplash.

"Don't you dare," I started.

The look on his face was pure anguish as he moved closer toward me. I took several steps back.

"I can't remember...everything's in bits and pieces. Please, what happened to me?" He asked.

The look in his eyes almost made me feel sorry for him.

Almost.

"What happened?" I bit. "What happened was that I got dressed up for you. I curled my hair and put on this stupid dress to find you upstairs with some slut on your lap with her hands down your pants. She was kissing you and you were moaning. Fucking moaning."

Tears filled my eyes and I couldn't stop them. Kate quickly got up.

"I'll wait for you outside," she whispered, rubbing a hand soothingly down my arm.

I nodded.

Christian was...speechless. It was evident by his expression that he had no clue just how much damage he'd caused. I wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

"Ana," he pleaded, coming closer. "You know I'd never hurt you. I'd never want anyone else...fuck. I can't believe this. Something happened to me Ana. She must have drugged me because I don't remember."

He screwed his face up tight and sat on the end of the bed. I'd never seen him look so awful.

"You don't remember anything?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Bits and pieces. I remember getting stoned and drunk with Elliot. I remember the girl..."

I looked away.

"She came over to me and started talking. I remember her offering me a drink."

I laughed humourlessly.

"So you were getting high and talking to another girl?" I asked. "Do I even know you?"

"It wasn't me," he put his head down between his thighs. "I was being stupid. Elliot was winding me up. He told me that you were bored of me, that I had to be a player. I thought I had to prove something."

"Prove what? That you were a jerk?" I asked, not feeling sorry for him at all.

"I shouldn't have listened to him," he continued. "He egged me on."

"What happened after the girl gave you the drink?" I asked angrily. I didn't want to hear his pathetic excuses for getting stoned out of his mind.

Because Elliot wound him up. What a fucking joke.

He concentrated hard. "Everything started getting hazy. I didn't know what I was doing. She led me upstairs..."

"Oh, and you willingly went?" I asked sarcastically. "You didn't think to find someone else? Tell them something was wrong?"

"I just thought I'd had too much to drink," he said quietly. "She said she'd take me to lie down."

So he trusted her...maybe he just wanted to be alone with her.

"I remember feeling sick. She started touching me. I didn't ask her too Ana, please believe me. I couldn't move or push her off. It felt like I was paralysed or something."

He got up then and started to pace. Angrily tugging at his hair as he tried to piece together the disastrous night. The hole was so hollow in the pit of my stomach, I thought I might suffocate. All I could think about was her touching him...

"You enjoyed it," I whispered. "You were moaning. You came in your boxers."

He didn't meet my eyes. A flush crept across his face.

"Do you remember that part?" I pressed.

He nodded reluctantly and a sob burst through once more. I couldn't do this. I couldn't be here. I needed to go.

I ran to the door, but he stood in front.

"Just because my body had a physical response, it doesn't make it consensual," he said desperately.

"Did you say no?" I asked.

Once again, he shook his head. "I couldn't speak!"

"Move out of the way," I snapped, losing my temper.

"No. Ana, please," he begged, reaching out to touch me.

I recoiled at his touch.

"Don't touch me," I breathed.

"Ana I was drugged," he said, tears forming in his own eyes.

"I don't care," I snapped. "You willingly got high. You willingly got drunk. You willingly talked to a girl that wasn't me and followed her upstairs. Let her take care of you. Not once did you try and find me. When you started feeling funny, you should have messaged me straight away or came looking. I was supposed to take care of you."

Tears were freely falling down my face now.

"But no. You let her do that. Let her sit in your lap and kiss you. Let her touch you first. I was supposed to touch you first," I cried.

He had tears in his own eyes now. I'd never seen him look so heartbroken.

It was nothing compared to how I felt.

"I know, Ana," he begged. "I never should have gotten high. I never should have spoken to her. I was so wound up. So angry. But you have to know you're the only person in the world that I want. The only person I love. I've loved you since I was five years old. Please, you have to believe me."

I took a deep breath.

"You would have had sex with her if I didn't walk in," I said quietly, each word weighing heavily on my heart.

"No. She would have raped me if you didn't walk in," Christian amended.

I shook my head. I didn't know what to believe. Was he drugged or just high? I had difficulty believing a drug could render him so paralytic he couldn't push away a 100-pound girl. And even if he was drugged...it didn't matter. He talked to her before that. He took a drink from her whilst I was looking for him. How could I ever trust him again? It was all too much.

"Goodbye Christian. I can't do this," I said, the words catching in my throat.

"You're...breaking up with me?" He choked out, tears falling freely now.

I nodded, and at my expression, he moved aside.

"You can call that girl now," I whispered. "Finish where you left off."

Before he could say anything else, I opened the door and slammed it back shut.

Kate wrapped an arm around my shoulder as we walked down the stairs. I saw Elliot in the kitchen on the way out and whirled on him.

"You. You fucking idiot!" I shouted.

He almost dropped the donut he was holding as he turned to face me.

"I hope you're happy with yourself. Telling Christian a bunch of shit about me. He got with another girl and said he was drugged," I spat.

He edged toward me, his face expressionless.

"Ana, I had no idea…"

I cut him off. "You're a piece of shit Elliot. I've never been anything but nice to you. What did I ever do to you? How could you do that to me? I thought you were my friend."

His eyes were pained but I still continued.

"Your little game was a success. I've broken up with him. Now you don't have to worry about your brother being a loser."

Kate stood beside me. Elliot looked toward her, but she scrunched her nose up at him in distaste.

"I always knew you were trash," she bit. "I just didn't know how much."

She took hold of my arm again then. "Come on Ana, let's get out of here."

I followed her out of the Grey household, never happier to be leaving it.

Kate was a huge help over the next few days. She stayed with me night and day, drying my tears with her sleeve and brushing my hair out. We watched my favourite films and she even went out to buy me chocolate.

My mind raced a lot throughout that weekend. I thought about our relationship over and over again. Looking for any signs. Nit picking every detail. All I could conclude was that he was a typical teenage guy who was bored of the only girl he'd ever been with. It killed me inside to admit that maybe he needed to see what else was out there. If I accepted that he was drugged, I still had to consider the fact that he was flirting with the girl long enough for her to offer the drink. Even the fact that he took it spoke volumes. The truth was, he clearly wanted to speak to her, and I was raised to love myself enough to not be second best.

Christian had left me about a thousand missed calls, along with lengthy essay-like messages. I didn't answer any of them. I couldn't talk to him yet. I didn't know when I'd be able to look at him before breaking down.

At school on Monday, Kate did my hair in French plaits. As she applied lipstick, she told me I didn't need to look as shitty as I felt.

"I know how you're feeling," she said, and she was right. She did. Elliot had broken up with her so he could have sex with other girls.

It pained me to say that the Grey brothers were two sides of the same coin.

"Don't let him see you weak. You're strong and beautiful okay?"

I nodded.

My mom dropped us to school. She'd been supportive too, bringing me food whenever I needed and running me baths. I loved them both dearly.

Kate wished me luck as I headed to English. I arrived there just as everyone was walking in. As expected, Christian was in his seat next to mine. He leaned forward as I approached.

"Ana," he started.

I ignored him.

"I googled a bunch of the drugs she could have used," he whispered frantically. "They can make you feel paralysed. Confused. Unable to know what's going on. That's exactly what happened to me."

"Be quiet," I hissed, as the teacher started to call out names.

All throughout the lesson he continued to talk. I ignored him as I tried to concentrate on the class.

At the end, when we were dismissed, I gathered up my things quickly. Christian took hold of my arm and I yanked it free.

"How can you be like this?" He asked. He said it in such an incredulous tone, I had no choice but to look up.

"I'd never do this to you. If you were drugged, I'd be out trying to kill the bastard. Don't you care about me? Can't you see this wasn't my fault?" He said angrily.

I didn't have the words to express how enraged I felt. Now he was blaming me?

"Even if she did drug you, you flirted with her," I hissed. "Don't try and turn this around on me Christian. Elliot got in your head and you deemed it necessary to prove yourself to be some tough man. Some player with the girls. Despite having a girlfriend. Despite having me."

"I said I was sorry," he snapped back. "It didn't mean anything. I was high and stupid. I didn't even flirt with her. Not really. She came on to me."

"I don't care." I got to my feet and so did he.

He towered over me, looking down into my eyes intently.

"Tell me you don't love me," he said. "Tell me you don't care. Tell me that and I'll leave you alone."

I looked away. None of that was true and we both knew it.

"You looked after me," he said softer, coming closer. "I was mortified when I woke up. When I saw my vomit stained clothes. You took care of me. If you didn't love me, you would have left."

Tears shone in my eyes as I gazed up at him with fury.

"Are you happy?" I asked. "Does it make you happy that I love you so much I'd stay with you? Even though I thought you willingly cheated with another girl?" I jabbed his chest with my finger. "Does it? Does that boost your huge male ego?"

He shook his head, gripping my wrist delicately. "No. It shows me you love me. As I love you."

I wrenched my arm away. "You have a pretty funny way of showing it," I snapped. "Leave me alone Christian, I mean it. We're finished. Go find another girl to torture."

He stood back, glaring down at me with blazing eyes.

"Okay," he shouted. "You know what? Maybe I will."

I strode out of the room, leaving him standing there.

Whose side are we on? - Elizabeth xxx