Beta: paleseptember10

Shoutout to mrsnewbigging for recommending this fic in the Cheatward's Spot FB group!

Guest that asked me "is this like a semi parody hate fic?" I wouldn't call it that but I can totally understand your POV. I once thought of it like that but obviously as I don't have the intention to make it a parody hate fiction, I need to get that thought out of my head but yes, you would be right in a way. Also you said "I'm reading it to laugh right now", guess what, same goes to you, I'm reading your review laughing right now. We're even~

I could have Brie and Christian stuck together in a hotel room but then the story wouldn't go anywhere, would it? You made a fair point though, Guest.

I can already smell the "hatred" you've all harbored for this story and by default, me! Your reviews made my day, I'm so glad that you're hating the characters, it means I've done well!

Just in case you're confused as you read this chapter, everything is happening at around the same time, so it's like a parallel narration if you catch my drift..

So, here comes your weekly dose of anxiety accompanied by yet another cliffy (you love me), I hope you're ready for it...

VII

March 2020

Doing research had never been her strong suit, and she had always preferred making things up on her own, hence her dedication to fiction editing. With all the internet browsing and web surfing for more guidance on what she should do with the little girl in her, she felt like she could become the encyclopedia with the amount of reading she had done and the mountain of notes that she had taken, but none of that helped her move forward. Instead, it was doing the complete opposite.

The more she knew, the more afraid she felt, and the result of her being holed up in this ensuite all alone without a single sound from her husband was that her bottom line had shifted.

Her hand rested on her stomach hoping to feel something, but as always, it was dead quiet on the other front. She was already worried that she could feel very little flutter inside of her much less kicks, or what they would call quickening. It made her even less optimistic about going through with the whole pregnancy.

Initially, there was no way that she'd even think about giving up on the child, but there was a voice inside her head in the past few days that kept repeating to her that she had given up on her husband, so what was one more person anyway? Why not just quit?

One thing she knew for sure after the research was that there was no way that she could ever be able to raise this kid alone. Financially, she wasn't at all worried because even if it got down to divorce, she was still entitled half the assets, and if she was going to have the baby she was going to take all she could from him.

It wasn't like he had made any efforts lately anyway, but there was no reason for her to divorce him just yet because quite frankly, she still needed him and she didn't want a divorce.

She needed him to be there, and she would want it to be him that she turned to if their girl didn't make it into her early years. She never regretted settling down with him, and she wasn't going to start regretting how fast they moved, but she really felt like slapping him for leaving her up to all the decision making.

Maybe she shouldn't spend so long all by herself because her mind was swallowing her up, but she was all alone with no one to turn to. Even now, she wanted to keep it from their families and protect him or defend his honor.

As she pondered more and more day and night, breaking down her issues and listing the pros and cons of each possible outcome, she was starting to get angrier at every second that there was nothing from her husband.

She remembered Sawyer walking in one day to check on her and talk her out of actually going to work because of the pandemic, he told her to work from home but what he couldn't help with was the suffocating environment that she felt like she was in. She really surprised herself by not raising a hand at him because she could seriously use him as a punching bag to take out all her pent up frustration.

"Did you tell him?" She asked him when he was about to head out. "Does he know? About the baby." She swallowed thickly, thinking of it was hard enough and she had never said it out loud, now she had to prepare for the answer or to hear about her husband's reaction, and she just knew that it would be less than pleasant.

Sawyer gradually turned back and nodded his head. He really didn't want to divulge any further because despite still not having solid proof that he had seen with his own eyes, he still abhorred the man at the moment for estranging his wife in a time so sensitive like this. Granted, he knew very little about Grey as a person and clearly Taylor and Gail knew way more as they were willing to defend him.

His first attempt at trying to find out what was actually going on with Taylor and Grey was interrupted by Carrick, then when he had finally seen the man after almost a week, he refused to brief him. He argued with Taylor outside of his office before storming in and slamming the result sheet on his desk leaving before he could watch him read it.

Taylor was now on the brink of terminating his contract because he wasn't obeying the simplest instructions anymore, and his reports were shorter and shorter, though they weren't vague. The last time they met for the debrief, he basically said that as long as there weren't any active threats against Ana, he wasn't even going to reveal her whereabouts since it would be so unfair to her to invade her privacy without extending the same courtesy to her about Christian.

"What did he say?" She asked softly and gently, almost frightened of the answer, it jolted him out of his fury. "Did he read it?"

"I left it on his table," he went with the truth though he wasn't going to admit that he didn't exactly want to be in the same room as Grey. "He dismissed me so I don't know. I'm sorry," he apologized sincerely, more for not fulfilling Ana's wishes. He just didn't want to get too involved, and maybe that was selfish of him, but it wasn't in his job description; Taylor would do the same if he was in his position and not having developed a personal relationship with the big boss.

"Sawyer, what's Christian doing lately? He's never home, I think."

"Taylor said he had been going to Flynn's a lot."

She frowned. "He is fine, right? Not going down a spiral or having a meltdown?"

"As far as I can tell, yes. He's coping just fine."

Sawyer was so tempted to out his suspicion and just tell her that he didn't believe that Grey would actually go to therapy so much, and the one time he had seen him in person, he seemed like he fared better than she did.

"Ana, I'm sorry this is happening to you. I truly hope that he comes around soon." He felt like explaining himself to her, explaining why he was pulling away and wasn't being more supportive like he wanted to. However, he stopped himself, he didn't need her to worry about his feelings because he knew she would take his difficult situation into consideration if he brought it up.

Then, Ana waited for Christian to come home, or even just to reach out to her because she knew that he would read it, and he would know that it was a huge deal. He had been researching the syndromes, so she knew that he was probably hoping for a disease with a higher birth and survival rate. She could understand that he would need a few days to process, because she knew her Christian.

What she didn't count on was for him to be completely silent on all fronts.

If this was the residue of what she had said last month, she would gladly take whatever consequences that was thrown at her, but he was acting way too pettily because all she had been doing lately was reaching out and apologizing.

Was it worth it anymore? Should she still try so hard? It led her to the ultimate question that had been swimming in her head.

Would it be selfish and wrong of her to think that she didn't want to be tied down by a child with Edwards syndrome at the age of twenty-two?

…

"You worry too much," Brie patted his hand as she joined him on the couch facing the TV, sitting on her leg facing him.

"I do not," he scowled at her playfully.

"You've been moping around here every time you come over, want me to spell it out word for word for you?" She arched a brow and sipped on her wine. "And don't think I haven't noticed that you've been hogging at the hard liquor cabinet and haven't touched your wine for the whole night."

"Am I that obvious?"

"You can be really easy to read sometimes, especially when you're in a foul mood."

Brie was so confused and conflicted right now because this would be the first time that he actually got drunk in her presence, and she had been in a handful of similar situations with businessmen like him when she first started as a flight stewardess, though they would get down to business really soon instead of spending months on and off getting to know each other with minimal touching, or any physical interactions. She wasn't sure if she should take advantage of him because he was vulnerable and she respected him and his marriage. However, she wouldn't lie and say that she wasn't the least bit attracted.

Men like him had unimaginable sexual prowess.

She was aware and cautious that he wouldn't reveal all of him to her, and she sensed the vibe that what he was showing was probably the tip of the iceberg, and even some of that information was inaccurate. She still wouldn't forget the day when she confronted him about the baby news, and how he manipulated the conversation and the topic was never brought up since.

"Talk to me, Christian."

"Why, Brie? Like you don't know enough about me already. The shit you know about me rivals the amount my shrink does." And there, was him giving her the false impression that he had let her in on more than he wanted, but she didn't know that.

"I want to know more," she giggled, bringing the wineglass to her lips and she watched as his eyes followed the move and lingered.

"Not you, too," he groaned, feigning annoyance.

"I'm not going to psycho-analyze you. I promise. Swear on my psych degree," she giggled, again. Holding up three fingers next to her head, she pledged.

"You're funny."

"Tell me," she prompted lightly, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "What's bothering you, maybe I can help?"

"Can you stroke my ego?" He joked darkly. "I really need that because my wife seems to think that I'm incompetent, and she won't even let me near her."

"What have you done this time?"

"Why is it always me that you're pointing fingers at? Every time I tell you that my marriage has a problem, you automatically assume that it's my fault."

"Because I'm a girl, and usually, if not always, the guy is the one at fault when couples fight."

"There are times that I'm right, though," he mentally counted the instances when Ana was dead wrong and he had to admit that there weren't many.

"I'm sure there are, but I guess you still haven't learned anything from me," she giggled lightly, shuffling a little closer to him, taking the tumbler out of his hold and placing it on the glass coffee table before them.

Christian darted his eyes back and forth between his tumbler of liquor and the girl that was now basically staring right in his face dumbfounded and confused. He kind of missed that tumbler of alcohol. He settled his gaze on her in the end, gazing into her eyes as he waited for the next step allowing her to lead the way.

"Crash course 101," she snatched his face and cupped his cheeks as if she needed to force him to focus on her. "Even if you're not the one to blame, when you're fighting with your girl, always apologize first and start groveling. Until she starts talking to you, don't turn the tables on her."

"That is so unfair, though."

"Do you want to break up with her or what?" She lifted a challenging brow.

"No, of course not! What, are you nuts?" He hiccupped, only realizing now just how much alcohol he had been drowning himself in, on an empty stomach no less. The effect was most definitely catching up on him.

"I'm not nuts," she laughed. "God, you're so cute, Christian."

"I'm cute?" He furrowed his brows together at Brie unsure if he liked that compliment or not.

"Yes, I think you are. Now come on, you want to know how we women think?"

"It's why I'm here," he deadpanned. He felt like he had been taking lessons on how to treat a woman from this girl since he met her. She had helped him through a lot, and being with her didn't make him feel so helpless at this whole relationship… thing.

"You're being an ass," she stated as her first point.

"What else is new?" he grumbled. "Oh, come on, Brie tell me something I don't know."

"You're a dick to your wife, and you're not doing your homework. Did you know that you're slacking off?"

He eyed her but his eyes were having trouble focusing. She nodded slowly.

"That's what I'm talking about."

"I'm not slacking off," he protested with a slight pout.

"Right, of course," she brushed off unconvincingly. "So, you've been here for a couple of hours now, and all you've been doing is drinking your weight in whiskey. And, since you've not been slacking off, how do you want me to stroke your ego today?"

He snorted and eyed her sideways, suppressing a laugh as she watched him with an impassive expression that he knew beneath was someone who was dying of laughter inside.

He reached for his tumbler but she was faster, and shoved it to the other end of the table.

"Uh uh uh," she tugged at his arm pulling him back into his seat when he had every intention of just getting the entire bottle over. "Talk first, you've had enough. Give your liver a rest."

"What are you, my mom?" He snarled sarcastically, but his eyes were benign and filled with mirth.

"I'm not but try me, Grey," she yanked at his arm pulling him right back and making him fall onto the couch with a bounce.

He laughed at how unbalanced he was and how easy it was for her to make him sit. It was comical to see how he stupidly stood up thinking the whiskey hadn't cloud his judgment enough that he had to physically prove it. She giggled along with him, her hands still grasped on to his forearm preventing him from leaving.

"Oh Brie, I wonder what kind of truth poison you're going to feed me next but I'm not spilling my guts to you. Not tonight."

"You think you have two choices, either wallow in your own misery or drown in liquor."

"Don't get smart on me now," he retorted with another snort. His head was thrown back and his eyes were closed, he felt like he could just lay there until this swirling mess in his brain stopped.

"I don't know if the baby news is true but you either make up your mind about your wife now or you leave her for good."

"I just need time," he groaned, rubbing his hand down his face. He wasn't about to divulge more to her and he certainly didn't intend to confirm that he was indeed expecting. However, that didn't mean he hadn't told her enough or at least got the message across regarding the kind of problems they were facing.

"Well, how much time do you have?"

"I just need until I can get my mind around the fact that she doesn't believe in me. I mean if she doesn't trust me, then who can?"

"And how long will that take?"

"I don't know," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"She won't wait forever you know."

"Oh whatever, she's like already half a foot out of the door."

"So, you're just going to throw it away? This is what I don't understand."

"Well, then stop trying."

"I'm your friend though, right? I've helped you before, and I want to help again. Besides, I'm kind of an expert at serious, long-lasting relationships."

"Says the girl that's currently single."

"I've had way more experience than you," she pointed out dryly. "You told me she's your first real relationship."

"Coming from the girl who's probably still hung up on her very first boyfriend."

"I am not hung up on him!" She threw up her hands, tossing a pillow at him smacking him right in the face. "Wake up, douchebag."

"I am up," he slurred, peeking an eye open to glance at her.

"You're drunk."

"That much is obvious."

"I'm trying to help here."

"Well, don't bother. Maybe I'll be more in the mood for your lectures next time."

"When's next time?"

"Oh, I don't know. We're going to be stuck indoors anyway. No one's allowed to work, everywhere's closed, and anyone who once had a job is now unemployed. Who knows?"

"I still have a job."

"How lucky of you," he rolled his eyes behind his closed lids. "Even I am out of a job, how the fuck do you still have one?"

"Speaking of jobs," she grinned at his obliviousness and intentional ignorance. "I'll be officially out of your hair next week, so whenever your next time is, you better hurry up."

"Sure, whatever. You don't have a job."

She giggled, she knew he wasn't going to register a word she was saying and if she knew how, she'd text his driver to come get him. He needed to sleep this alcohol off because as much as she wanted to take advantage of him right now, she still didn't want to end their friendship on a bad note.

"I'm just going to get the glasses rinsed in the bathroom, you sit tight and don't fall asleep. In fact, call your driver."

"Oh, you're kicking me out now?" He yawned tiredly. She nodded back knowing that he couldn't see her. "Fine, I'll call him," he said and let his arms rest on his side on its way to his pocket for his phone.

She came out not five minutes later, and as expected, he was out. Having never made any physical contact with him other than his hands and face, she had no idea if it was appropriate to touch him anywhere else because he had given her the impression that he didn't exactly enjoy the human touch.

Sticking out a finger, she tentatively poked him on the shoulder, and he groaned. Taking that as a positive sign, she poked harder at the same spot, almost shoving him, but he only stirred.

Sighing, she laid a hand on his upper arm and shook, and all it did was for him to fall to his side, ending up occupying the entire length of the couch.

"Guess you're taking residence on my couch tonight," she said to herself. "I didn't invite you to stay if anyone asked." She threw that over her shoulder as if he could hear her and skipped to her room.

Thank goodness she had the bigger room because she switched with someone on her team.

…

Outside the hotel, Sawyer strolled around the entrance and then did a round in the lobby. He appeared relaxed enough to play it off as someone looking for someone but also wasn't in a rush, but a chill went down his spine when he saw the SUV that Taylor used driving by the front towards the underground garage, and he just knew that he would be here. He had enough to piece together just exactly who he was seeing.

It most definitely wasn't John Flynn.

Sawyer was seething mad at both Taylor and Grey, and he thought about following the car or just confronting Grey outright but he wouldn't risk a scandal by making a scene. So, he left with his intel, and was now debating what he should be reporting to Ana because he came out today with the goal of having a conversation with Taylor and Grey.

He got back to Escala just in time to see Ana standing at the foyer with her purse and jacket waiting for him. He had to pat himself on the back for talking her into accepting him as her babysitter when he knew that the very last thing she wanted was security hovering over her shoulder as she tried to navigate through her complicated feelings.

"Are we going somewhere?" He was glad that she didn't press the button instead, she waited for him despite the fact that her decision had been unplanned and out of the blue.

"Can we just go for a drive? I need to think, and I'm starting to get claustrophobic in here. I'm still trying to decide, maybe I'll give Dr Greene a call…" she rambled and he was already ushering her into the lift before she could finish her sentence.

He drove leisurely heading nowhere in particular but the low humming of the engine and the smooth sailing of the vehicle as well as the quiet inside calmed him and unnerved him at the same time. He didn't dare get lost in the soothing drive as he darted his eyes to the rearview mirror to check on his backseat passenger every once in a while.

She had been on her phone for the better part of the drive, and at one point she raised the cell to her ear but it seemed like the call was never answered.

"Do you have anywhere specific in mind that you want to drive through?" He asked, finally breaking the silence and breaking her from her blank stare outside the window. He was tempted to take a detour to their house that was still under construction next to the Sound, but he wasn't sure how appreciative she'd be of that gesture. The renovation would be roughly done by the time this baby was due since Grey had specifically requested it done in half the time that they had initially planned.

"Not really, just keep driving and don't stop."

He nodded, steering them to the outskirts of Seattle where there was lesser traffic and more spacious scenarios along the way. He was supposed to let Taylor know that they were burning through a full tanked car, cruising through Washington State—it was protocol—and he normally would, had it not been the fact that he was starting to feel like he couldn't trust Taylor with Ana's safety anymore because he was no longer on her side. Or perhaps he was unconfident in the man behind Taylor's ability to remain stable and civil in regards to Ana's safety.

Her phone pinged in her lap indicating an incoming message. She picked up with disinterestedness and glanced at the content. It was just an automatic text from her OB's office thanking her for calling and promising to call back as soon as possible. Tossing it aside with a huff, she returned to her troublesome string of thoughts.

Driving down the country road with the windows down was certainly refreshing. She inhaled a cleansing breath and felt a tinge of worry go away followed by each exhalation. However, her problems were far from resolved. She just felt like the layers of confusion over her complicated situation were slowly vanishing and allowing her to peel into the core of the issue that was bothering her.

She had done enough research to know that her girl had a fifty-fifty survival rate to make it through to full term and surviving delivery. Then, it would also be a constant struggle with the devil to survive a day longer. The doctors would be constantly evaluating her condition only to declare a date when her stay on Earth would expire, and that was still the best case scenario.

The pressure and the stress would always be looming over her head, miracle or not. Her psyche would be constantly challenged and her heart tortured with each visit from a physician, and she wasn't sure if this was what she was able to accomplish or wished for her life to be as a twenty-two year-old single mother with a bucket load of cash.

She loved her baby girl—don't get her wrong—she truly did, and she would do anything for her.

Only she wasn't confident that her love was enough for the baby and her wellbeing. After tons of research, she was starting to feel like if she fought against everything for this baby to survive, her baby girl still wouldn't have the best quality of life and it would still be selfish of her to let someone suffer just because she was incapable of giving her up. She wanted to appease her conscience by trying everything she could but maybe she should put herself in the baby's shoes for once.

A baby would be life changing and she only just discovered sex, and she loved it and she wanted more of it. She felt like she was still young and energetic, but once the baby arrived, she would be thrusted into adulthood without much of a choice. Had this baby been a perfectly healthy one like she had hoped for, then she would have no problem sacrificing all the freedom, all the sleep, and everything she loved to do, even sex, for the child. However, this crucifying discovery about her baby girl completely threw her off.

It wasn't fair for her to accuse her husband of things that may or may not have happened, but she also needed reassurance, so it also wouldn't be fair for her to do most of the work for their baby girl when all he would do was throw money at them.

Maybe the root of her bothersome problems had been laying right inside of her all along and she just wasn't willing to acknowledge it.

"Sawyer, take me to Dr Greene's. I need to make an appointment."

…

Christian stirred on the couch suddenly aware of the drool fast dripping down the corner of his mouth. His head shot up at the wet spot under his cheek, and the hangover instantly caught up to him. His head throbbed and his mouth dried despite the saliva that was just wiped away with the back of his hand.

He groaned, twisting his head slowly as he felt his neck strained at the heaviness of his brain, he couldn't locate a single glass let alone any drinkable liquid. It was then he realized that he wasn't even in his own room, his alertness suddenly shot through the roof as he tried to figure out where exactly he was.

"Oh good, you're finally awake, took you long enough."

He frowned at a woman's voice, it was familiar but nowhere near familiar to be allowed in his bedroom. He had made it clear to everyone around him that the only woman that was allowed in his room with him whenever she pleased would be his wife, but that wasn't Ana's voice.

"Where am I?" He sniffled trying to moist his throat but his voice still came out hoarse.

"In my hotel room, dummy."

"Hotel?" He scowled, having no recollection of ever renting a place out.

"What do you remember?" Brie kneeled at his head with a glass of water in her hand and an Advil on her other holding it out for him.

"Calling for Taylor to come pick me up from said hotel," he took the drink and downed the pill before handing it back with a short "thanks".

"Right," she chuckled. "You probably dreamed of calling for your driver because you sure as hell did not take out your phone."

"What? Where's my phone?"

"In your pocket," she sang as she rinsed the glass in her bathroom before placing them back onto the counter.

"What?" He dumbly reached into his pocket and took out the brick like device and turned it on to see a string of texts from Taylor and surprisingly a few from Ana. He opened the thread from Taylor and promptly ignored the ones from his wife, he was going to talk to her today.

"Do you remember anything from last night?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, sitting up and groaning with his eyes squeezed shut as another round of headache hit him. He tossed his head back to avoid being struck by another throbbing ache. "I drowned myself in whiskey."

"You drank your weight in and not a single droplet of water, I'm surprised you're still even alive. You didn't even eat any solid food last night, and I warned you."

"You did, you did," he sighed, waving her off and turning away from her chastising eyes. "I'm going to talk to my wife today," he announced. "You're right, I can't stall forever, and she won't wait for me forever. I have to do something, and I'm going to do it today."

She frowned, not only because she felt like he had made that decision too hastily and without any preparation but also to mask up the slight disappointment she was feeling at the thought of him going back to Ana. She knew that he was determined to fix his marriage, and she knew that he wouldn't do anything stupid even if he was blind drunk. She just wished that she could find a man like that in her life.

"Are you sure?" She questioned.

"Yes, I just need you to help me rehearse and picture scenarios. You know, she's unpredictable."

"Okay… sure."

"I'll tell you how it went the next time we meet."

"Next time, when's that?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I'll be sure to send you a bottle of something when I am out of the doghouse."

"Are you sure you're ready? I mean, you kind of just made that decision on a whim."

He rubbed his face and groaned. He honestly had no idea, and he knew that he hadn't thought it through and he was probably taking advantage of the residual of his liquid courage. He just wanted to get it over with because he hated having an unresolved issue hanging over his head persistently.

"If I don't, I'll lose her, and I don't want that. I can't lose her, not over this."

"You said you'd talk to me today about what's bothering you."

"Whatever," he shrugged again, ready to give it all up just so he could go back home and nurse this hangover.

"You're hungover, Christian."

"No shit, lady," he snorted. "My head is about to explode."

"No, I mean, you're hungover, your thoughts are obviously impaired and given how severe your current circumstances are, I strongly suggest you let it sink in for a bit and think about what you want to say before you do it. The last thing you want is another fight that tears up your marriage further."

"But I'll lose her. You said it yourself that I have to have a deadline, I can't make her wait for me forever. God knows if she's still waiting for me…" he mumbled the last part miserably. "I'm going to call Taylor, when do you have time? Oh, I can't believe I crashed here."

"I won't be here next week."

"Okay, then what about the week after? I doubt I'd get everything resolved by next week anyway. I'm pretty sure my wife would be giving me the cold shoulder at home, and I'd rather take the silent treatment than feel unwelcome in my own damn house."

"No, you misunderstood."

He looked up from his phone and the conversation from last night before he passed out returned to him.

"My contract ends in March, remember?" She prompted their very first conversation at the bar, and he couldn't quite call what was being said, he only remembered what he had said as he hadn't really paid attention to her shit, ever. "I'm moving to Oceania, well, Sydney to be exact because I signed with Virgin Australia."

"Right, they gave you a higher offer and promotion and a bunch of benefits," he grunted unhappily.

"Yeah, so this is my last time in Seattle or the States for that matter, and I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" He nearly shot up from the couch at that news. "Not you, too, Brie."

She could feel her knees crumble at his crestfallen face, and she knew that she had upset him but it was inevitable. Still, she hated seeing him hurt like this.

"I'm sorry," she offered weakly but he wasn't listening.

"You can't leave me. I need you."

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X

Saph T