Beta: paleseptember10

TISSUE ALERT!

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Featured song: Everytime by Britney Spears

XI

Thank god she had got out of the penthouse the time she did because she could only imagine the suffocation she would have to suffer through if she stayed there any longer. It was already too bad that she had to endure all of this in the midst of a worldwide pandemic, and they were lucky that money talks or else they wouldn't have gotten granted a divorce in a time when no one was actually in the office working.

What would it be like for her if she remained in the penthouse that she had affectionately named the Ivory Tower after a slip of a tongue from Kate. She thought it was a compliment the first time she heard it, and now she had finally seen just how derogative the connotation actually could be. It would be a tower of luxury had she not had the fall out with her husband, and it would be a wonderful place for self-isolation.

"I'm not going to tell you my story," Ana glared at him half seriously. "Are you crazy? I wouldn't be here fucking you if all you're going to do is dig into my past."

"Oh, so you get to call me a man whore and I don't get to ask about your history?" He jested back.

"I told you about mine!" She protested, throwing her arms up exasperatedly acutely aware of their compromising position and their nudity. "For the last time, Nate, I had one sexual partner. One." Sticking a single digit in front of his face, she poked at his nose, and his eyes crossed in the middle eliciting a giggle from her.

"Okay, I know you're hiding something but whatever."

"We're all hiding something. Come on, don't act all innocent now, who was the one that lied to me about their nationality?"

"I had to just to be safe."

"What about your nationality? Should I adopt another accent just so that my American dialect doesn't give me away?"

He laughed at her over dramatic act. "No, I don't mean it like that, but you know that I get paid dancing on that dance floor and occasionally make out with girls, right? This place has more tourists than actual residents, so I have to be careful."

"Telling them that you're a posh Brit is going to make a difference? Where are you actually from?"

"I was born in New Zealand, though my parents are legit Aussies, but I grew up in Colombia. I only got my British accent because I went to university in England."

"So, do you speak other languages?"

"I speak Spanish."

"Oh, that's so cool. I wish I speak another language," she pouted petulantly remembering the handful of times that she had heard her ex-husband speak French when they were on their honeymoon. It was a memory worth reminiscing but also kind of ruined the language for her in a way.

She was so not over him.

"You haven't answered me, and I am really curious, and it's been days since I've asked you."

"You have me in a bed, naked, so what more do you want?" She poked his chest playfully, and he reached out to take ahold of the only jewelry that she refused to take off no matter what she was doing unlike the charm bracelet that was actually now stored in a box in the drawer next to her nightstand.

Her eyes followed his hand and landed on the two rings hanging on a plain platinum necklace. The diamond was still shining bright, and the letters engraved in the other ring were still clear as day.

"What happened?" He asked gently. He wasn't prying, he was merely curious and he would actually take any answer she had for him, even if it was to shut him down but he could feel that whatever this was it still had a significant meaning to her.

"It was a mutual decision. Our schedules clash and our jobs are demanding," she shrugged with a slight purse of her lips, really not wanting to talk about it but she could sense that he did care about her to a degree despite the fact that they really had no relationship at all, given that their sexual encounters weren't consistent and they only acted like acquaintances in the club.

He raised a brow at her somehow making her feel more naked and exposed than she was physically at the moment. She narrowed her eyes at him challenging him to voice his curiosity because they both knew that she was bullshitting because there was no conflict in their jobs given that she could literally work anywhere.

"Are we actually going to get to know each other or are we just here to fuck? Because if I recall correctly, you were the one that insisted on this rendezvous despite our many trysts in the club."

"Aw come on, don't act like I'm the only one that wants to get laid."

"Yeah, I do want to get laid but I didn't mean it had to be with you."

"Ouch."

"Well, if you're going to keep talking, then I'm just going to leave. Are you going to shut up and fuck me or let me fuck you?"

He stared at her wide eyed, having never heard her to be this vulgar before, and never having pegged her as the blunt kind of girl. He kind of got the vibe that she was somewhat reserved and shy in person, and she would only be bolder if she had the alcohol induced confidence.

"I'm sorry. You can fuck me," he told her before shooting up the bed and tackling her to the bottom. Her giggles were soon muffled by the passionate kiss that led to another round of sex only for them to realize that they were out of condoms.

"We used them all? How many did we get?"

"Not much honestly. We should've gotten the box."

"Hell yeah we should, at least I get to save some for next time."

"Now who's the bigger whore?" He teased, nudging her bare shoulder as they laid side by side both on the verge of falling asleep.

"Who said anything about sleeping with other people?"

"Then why would you ever need the condoms for?"

She shrugged, feeling herself starting to get drowsy and losing her ability to bullshit further.

"Ha! Gotcha!" He threw his arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer to his body. "Believe it or not, Ana, I care about you."

"Well, that's… nice… I guess," she lifted her head slightly to observe his facial expression just to make sure that he wasn't going to talk about feelings and all that crap. "Good to know that you do," she smacked his chest jokingly, and a grin broke through his face.

"Okay, not like that. I don't have feelings for you if that's what you're worried about. I just… genuinely care for you like one human being to the other."

"Aww… aren't you just the sweetest."

"And I'm hot."

"Yeah, definitely not helping," she sighed dramatically, settling down on his chest with her chin on top of the back of her hands.

He laughed and ruffled her already disheveled hair.

"Can we take a nap before going home? I am so tired."

"I was hoping that you might fall for me if I keep doing all those things to you."

"What? Being affectionate? Trust me, I've had it all, and I know what it's like. If you're trying to trick me into marrying you, you're looking at the wrong woman."

"Now, look who's talking."

She glared at him.

"I'm joking, Ana. Jesus," he chortled. "I'm not serious, I swear. I won't pry into your past just like you won't pry into my whoring past, deal?"

"I wasn't going to pry into your whoring past."

"Yeah, well you get what I mean. Just sex."

"Not exclusive."

He arched a brow at her as if doing a double look. "Interesting…"

"No, I'm serious."

"Well, we both know that it isn't a one time thing."

"It could be."

"Uh no… we go to the same club, so we're bound to run into one another."

"What if I'm with a hotter guy?"

"I doubt you can find a guy hotter than me."

"Oh is that a challenge? You'll be shoving your tongue down some other girl's throat anyway, and possibly fingering them on the dance floor too."

"Okay, that was an accident," he stopped her, putting his finger against her lips. "I don't usually do that, and I have never actually fingered someone in public but I got carried away with you."

"I feel so special now."

"You are," he grinned. "You're the most memorable."

"Aww… thank you," she grinned back but unable to share the sentiment because she knew that it would never be the most memorable or pleasurable experience she had ever had. Her sexual experience had already been made, and there was no one that could change it unless it was the man that she had left behind in the grand North American continent.

"Nap, then we can get something to eat, and I have to go to work and I believe you'll have something to do too?"

She nodded, and settled back against him before closing her eyes as the exhaustion caught up on her. She had literally been up fucking since last night, and it was almost eight in the morning and she was finally getting some sleep.

…

"I ordered room service," Nate's voice called from the bathroom, and she briefly scanned around the room wondering just how did he know that she was waking up because she swore she wasn't the second before he talked. "Can you get the door?"

She rubbed her eyes. The doorbell rang again, and that was when she remembered it was the knock or whatever from room service that woke her from her nap. She reached over for her phone to check the time, and it was now just around twelve, which meant she had been sleeping for only about three hours.

"You do it, I need to brush my teeth. My breath smells bad," she said, making her way to the bathroom and squeezed through the tiny door frame as he made his way out. That was just an excuse so she wouldn't have to worry about reacting to the food when she opened the lid wondering if he had ordered something for her.

He stared behind her incredulously at her very uncharacteristic and very unconvincing excuse, but he went for the door anyway, the knocking was becoming relentless and he knew if he didn't go in the next minute, his food would leave.

"Sorry for the wait," he opened the door politely expecting a cart but instead was faced with a woman, sophistically dressed with an elegant air but all the royal impressions were ruined the moment she opened her mouth to speak. "I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone."

"I know you aren't, but your little girlfriend is."

He frowned, already disliking the superiority the woman held in her stance and disgusted with the way she had spoken, especially with how she had described Ana. He would normally correct them by saying they weren't anything but the hostility from this woman at the door told him that he should reveal as little as possible.

"Do I know you?"

"Obviously not," she rolled her eyes. Ana could swear that she recognized the voice that that thick Southern American accent threw her off. "Move out of my way."

"Uh, ma'am, I'm not letting into my room until you tell me who you are and what you are doing here. Who are you looking for?"

"I am looking for the girl who's bra is currently on display at the foot of the bed. What a disgrace."

"Who are you?" He didn't like the way this woman had disrespected Ana, and he felt like he shouldn't interfere but he knew that he had been making quite a big fuss at the door, so Ana must've heard it. She just wasn't coming out.

"I'm her ex-best friend."

He narrowed his eyes at her in disbelief. He knew that she wasn't married, at least not at the moment because when he asked about the rings, she said it was from the past and now she was detached but he never thought she had thrown everything away when she came here. He recalled her telling him that it was liberating yet sad at the same time, but he wasn't sure if she knew what she was talking about at the moment, because that was the night she got seriously drunk.

Ana gasped behind the bathroom door at that declaration. She could've sworn that she knew no one with that accent, and she couldn't believe how she didn't connect the dots earlier when she heard the tone of her voice. That attitude was so unique to her best friend that she couldn't believe she was only putting the pieces together now.

She knew that voice, and she certainly knew that tone, but the accent? What happened to the Malibu accent that she had acquired during her various summer stays, and her many attempts at perfecting it even when they were in Seattle.

"Nate," she rubbed his back softly. "I got this from here. Thank you," she gave him a feathery peck on the cheek before watching him walk deeper into the room before she closed the door only leaving a crack just enough for her to see her face as she talked to her. "Kate…"

"You're actually alive, then, huh?" Kate scoffed, her arms crossed in front of her chest, and her body leaned against the door frame so that the light from the room shone directly on her.

"Kate, look. I'm really sorry."

"Are you going to come back?"

Anastasia bit her lip to stop them from trembling as she shook her head once, the micro movement just enough to give an answer. She couldn't trust her voice to not betray her, and she didn't want to break down in front of Kate because she was the one that left her.

"Who have you become, Ana? What happened? You don't even talk to me anymore."

"How did you find me?" She whispered, her voice already showcasing her teariness but she blinked away the tears and looked at the ceiling hoping that she could absorb those fluids now pooling in her eye sockets.

"I never thought I'd have to track you down, Ana. Christian won't talk to me, he won't show up at family dinners, and he won't even disclose anything about you."

Ana shook her head, still unable to wrap her mind around the fact that she actually found her. It didn't make any sense as she made sure that no one but Christian and by default, Sawyer, knew her whereabouts.

"Are you here to take me back?"

"Are you going to come with me?"

"No," Anastasia admitted, her voice was barely audible. "Kate, I know that you're upset and I've hurt you, and I'm so sorry but it was unintentional. It was collateral damage and I never intended for any of it to happen."

"What happened, then?"

"I just had to get away," she confessed, looking away from her best friend who didn't seem so hostile anymore.

"We tell each other everything and you've been shutting me out since you found out that you're pregnant. You didn't even tell me!"

"Kate, you don't understand…"

"Then make me!"

"It's between Christian and I."

"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving?"

Anastasia remained silent, she could continue to say that she just had to because she wanted to be alone.

"Do you have any idea how worried we've all been? Worried about you, and they were also worried about Christian."

"Taylor and Sawyer check in on us," she murmured, unsure of the purpose behind sharing this piece of information. "I can't tell you anything, Kate, but I do love you. It's not about you."

"Then why didn't you come and say goodbye? Why didn't you tell me that you were leaving? I wouldn't have forced you into telling me everything, I wouldn't even have asked if you didn't want to tell me! Why couldn't you just let me know that you're not going to be there? I waited for you!"

Ana's eyes followed Kate's gaze downward, and saw that she wasn't wearing one of those tight fitted dresses that she always wore when she went out. She was dressed in the exact same cardigan that she was in when she was in her second trimester, and trying to hide the bump from everyone before they told the family.

Her eyes widened as they returned to Kate's sorrowful ones.

"What? No…" her jaw dropped and she didn't know what to say anymore. "I'm dreaming, I'm dreaming… this cannot be true," she muttered to herself and shook her head as she closed her eyes as if she could squeeze out the image.

"I wanted to tell you first."

"You're… with Elliot?"

Kate nodded, and she laid a hand on her round stomach. "I am…"

Her voice was drowned out by a loud knocking from knuckles connecting to the wooden hotel room door in rapid concessions. "Room service!"

…

She jolted up with a yelp, and her confusion washed away completely when she heard Nate's laughter resonating in the room.

"You're so cute," he snickered, launching at her in bed. "So damn adorable," he crooned, nuzzling her nose with his.

"What's going on?"

"I think you were dreaming."

"I was? About what?" She flushed hoping that it wasn't one of her many wet dreams starring a faceless man that she knew better than to deny was her ex-husband. Was it unhealthy to constantly fantasize about one's ex, especially their skills in bed when she was with another man who was just as talented?

"Hell if I know," he shrugged and pulled away to get out of bed. "Anyway, I was going to wake you for lunch, but it seems like you woke up yourself."

"Was room service really loud when they came in?"

"Kind of. Did that wake you?"

She offered the tiniest nod but that was only because her dream was still haunting her. She hadn't really been in contact with her family and friends back in the States since she found out about her genetically defect baby girl, and certainly not after she got the abortion. Her only contact in America was Sawyer, and that also was kind of a one-sided conversation. He would send a text to her phone every once in a while to make sure that she was reachable, and she would click into the text just to send the read receipt letting him know that she was still alive.

Other than that, she had never reached out to anyone in her past. The only reason why she agreed to keep Sawyer's contact info was because she didn't want to be found but also didn't want to worry her friends and her parents into an early grave. She knew that if the news of her disappearance got out and word started to spread among the US, the entire country would be dug up as everyone tried to locate the vanished Mrs Grey.

"Thank you for breakfast, you really didn't have to pay for it. You paid for the room already."

She nibbled on her toast as she tried to stop herself from blurting out the fact that her insistence behind paying was because she had a bucket load of money that she had no idea what to do with. A part of her wasn't willing to give them all away because she still believed that they weren't solely hers.

"Maybe next time," he grinned back at her mysteriously and she knew exactly what it meant.

"Maybe…" she replied, implying that another rendezvous like this would be in her favor. They both knew that he wasn't going to let her pay because of some chivalrous crap that he insisted on following since he was an English gentleman.

"How are you getting home?"

"I'll call a cab," she whipped out her phone, and frowned that when she saw that the battery was almost drained. "Or I can just walk home," she shrugged because it really was close to her house, she just really didn't want him to know that she lived in the area but then he had told her where he lived before they decided to come to this hotel.

"So, when can I see you again?" He stood up and pulled her to her feet and into an embrace.

"Why are you so eager?" She jested, poking him in his pec and pushing herself out of his hold.

"Because I like you, woman."

"Okay, look," she laid her hands out believing that she had to make it clear even if he didn't mean what he had just said. "I promised one man, and one man only," she pointed to her ring necklace. "And despite the fact that we're not together at the moment, it doesn't mean that I'm available for anyone else."

"Gotcha, lady," he smirked and winked. "You don't have to worry about me. If we meet, we meet, ya?"

"Right," she grinned. "Glad we have an understanding," she stood on her tip toes and gave him a sloppy kiss with bread crumbs before slinging her purse over her shoulder. When she got to the door, she turned around and winked back at him before closing the door behind her.

Then her dream came back to her, hitting her in full force as she looked around the corridor seeing how exactly the same it was to the one in her dream, only with brighter lighting. There were just demons in her that she just couldn't shake away no matter how much she wanted to, it was preventing her from truly relaxing.

She didn't want to forget everything from her past, but she wanted to have the ability to just shut them out for a while, just for the peacefulness and quietness that she was craving so desperately at the moment.

"Fuck, I need to actually do something."

…

She honestly had no idea how much she had paid for this or how she ended up on this gigantic boat they called a cruiser, but she was now onboard with a carry-on suitcase in hand and a ticket without a price on the other ready to experience what was supposed to be top-class luxury.

What she did know was that however much this trip cost her, it wouldn't have made a dent in her bank account, so she could for once, spend till her heart was content and not worry about a budget limit.

It was ironic how she had never allowed herself to spend so excessively on such meaningless vacations or on anything for that matter. She would always weigh through all reasons why she wanted something and was it an essential item before she gave away her money, and it was ironically still the case when she married one of the world's richest men.

For someone who possibly had enough money to buy this entire boat, she surely looked uncomfortable as she took in the scale of her room, and the interior decor everywhere she turned.

This was like the Titanic all over again, and when she picked up the brochure laid out on her bed it suddenly felt so surreal like she was in a movie.

She sat on the bed and stared out the window as she pondered if what she was doing was avoidance. She certainly didn't feel like she had been running away from problems, because she thought she was searching for answers, and searching for peace which was what she wanted. It wasn't a bad thing that she knew what she wanted, right?

What would someone who they call brave would do in her shoes? Would they hash it all out with their significant others? Would they go to their families for help? Tell their best buddies about their troubles or announce it to the world that they weren't ashamed of their own decisions?

In her opinion, she would rather take a break from Christian than try to resolve every single issue in their relationship at that moment because it would only make matters worse. Despite everything, they did part on good terms, and they were technically on speaking terms because she felt comfortable reaching out to him knowing he'd have her back. However, was that the best choice? Was it the wisest?

Some would say that her divorce papers had broken them but she thought she was saving them and what was left of their relationship. If by some miracle, they met again down the line, she believed that she wouldn't be so opposed to giving their relationship a second shot. She couldn't fault him for his actions, not entirely, because she knew exactly the kind of person he was and objectively, she was asking for too much from him when she gave him the ultimatum to get his act together, or leave her be.

It was unfair to him given his emotional baggage that he was trying to rid since they started dating, however it also wasn't on her that she fell pregnant on their honeymoon—barely a month into their marriage, and certainly too soon since their initial meeting. She was inexperienced in relationships, too, and she was young with no social standing. She was a nobody in the world, and she honestly couldn't say that she had found her footing via marriage.

The timing really couldn't be shittier. There really was no one to blame for their fallout because this baby, healthy or not, would put a strain on their relationship that may take a turn for the worst before neither of them could stop it. This baby really just came at the wrong time, and she felt bad for the other couples that couldn't conceive.

This might be the best outcome to them, frankly. They both had some maturing and growing up to do, and while doing it together was no longer an option, she at least could reflect on their relationship problem and on herself.

In the end, what happened truly was only a reflection of their own inner turmoil. None of them intended for anything to happen, and none of them felt any less about the other, yet they were somehow angry at one another only because they felt like the other wasn't being understanding and supportive.

Maybe they should both take a step back, and restart the conversation.

Her inner monologue was interrupted by the loud siren as the boat set to sail. She stood up from her king-sized bed and headed to the round window before deciding that she should go to the railing for a grander view.

The sea breeze blew at her hair, sending them across her face before she turned the other way. She snuck her hands into her sleeves, and balled them up before her mouth. Her mind blanked as her thoughts emptied from her head, allowing the slightly moist wind to remind her what it truly felt like to be free and liberated.

She had no idea how long she had been standing out here and staring into space, and she had no idea if she had missed the serving time for dinner, but a shiver from the cold shook her out of her trance. She dragged her eyes back to the dock where she could see a few people scattered around on the lounge chair studying the clear night sky with a few stars sparsely laid out and shining through the thin layer of clouds.

"Hi, is there still food somewhere?" She stopped someone on her way in.

"Yes. What kind of food are you looking for, madam?"

"Uh…" she looked around, confused and unsure how to answer. "Just some dinner…?"

"The dining hall is still open but you can also order for room service from your room, miss."

"Oh, okay," she nodded her thanks at the waiter and scurried off in embarrassment. As someone from probably one of the most expensive suites, she actually had no idea how luxury works and how to order people around to get what she wanted by flashing her cash.

That had always been Christian's job.

Crap, and there she thought she wouldn't think of a single person from her past as she made sure to stay away from her phone after informing Sawyer of her plans.

…

She hadn't had a meal so sophistically presented to her since divorcing her husband, and had not had a lamb cooked so perfectly since the last function she accompanied her husband to. There wasn't a single flaw she could pick out from the course she had ordered, and it only made her think of Gail. Not only did she feel like her own cooking lacked any taste, it also didn't feel like home. Whenever she sat down at her kitchen table for a meal, the resonating sound of clashing cutleries only emphasized her loneliness.

It wasn't the quiet that she was seeking, it wasn't the peace that she was asking for. While she wanted to get away, she also wanted to know that she wasn't alone in this world, but in this very moment, it was exactly how she felt. The only comfort was the food that she had just paid an exorbitant amount for.

They weren't that far off the coast when she heard a thundering blast from somewhere not far from her room, and almost instantly followed by a violent shake of the boat. Her plate flew off the table as did the knife she just put down. The residual of her last bite still stuck in her throat, and she forced it down almost choking on it. She reached for her glass of untouched cocktail just in time for it to slide off the tilting cabin table and smash to the ground.

Next was her chair that got flipped upside down, completely tossing her up into the air. She raised her arms to shield her head in an attempt to soften the blow when it made contact with the ceiling, but it was proven a fruitless effort as the back of her head was thrown against the corner of her closet.

And that was it…

…

She couldn't feel her limbs, her torso, nor could she turn her head. It was a scary realization as she slowly and painfully peaked one eye open. Or more like force herself to peel an eyelid upward, and the white light from the ceiling instantly flooded her iris.

The noises around her couldn't be more familiar, and yet she couldn't understand what was happening or where exactly was she. She just felt like she was living a life that did not belong to her.

All she could think of was the one person that she knew she could count on and had the ability to let her rely on.

Christian.

She thought, and her eyes darted around the room as far as she could trying to catch a glimpse of a figure. Her head turned toward where she assumed would be the door to her room, and that slightest movement made her become aware of the tube inserted down her windpipe through her mouth.

It was no wonder she couldn't move her mouth.

The panic was now setting in full swing, and she could hear the alarms in the machines going off. She could only imagine the amount of red lights that were flashing in this room just next to her head.

"Hey there, welcome back," a nurse smiled at her warmly. She couldn't see her mouth behind her face mask but Ana could see the warmth in her eyes, and it was enough to settle her racing hearts just a tiny bit. The extreme discomfort in her throat was still there, and now that she had regained consciousness, all she could focus on was the gagging feeling that was slowly arising from down her throat.

She wanted to point at the tube stuck in her mouth, and she wanted to talk but she couldn't do either. She couldn't feel anything, and trying to not panic until she heard the full diagnosis was no longer working. It wasn't the tube that was stuck anymore.

She felt stuck. Stuck inside this body full of flesh that she was unable to control as she stared helpless at the people fussing around her and probably prodding around her everywhere. She didn't even know if she was fully dressed or what kind of injury did she sustain.

She was the meat on a butcher's chopping board.

"We're going to remove this tube from your mouth, okay? Blink once for me if you understood."

Anastasia blinked once. She thought she was fine now but when she tried to take a deep breath like they asked her to, she found herself lacking the strength to do so. Her diaphragm wasn't cooperating, and she didn't know if there was actually something pressing down on her chest, but she certainly believed that it was because she couldn't get a breath in.

"Give her a nasal cannula," the nurse standing by her beside holding the tube to her mouth ordered, and the felt something got stuck into her nose shooting cool air into her nostrils. "Ready?"

Ana blinked once, so ready to get the tube out of her mouth and get away with that gagging feeling. She breathed in as deep as she could but she could sense that the nurses were not totally satisfied with her, still when she exhaled she felt the tube being moved.

Her whole body sagged with relief the moment it was completely removed, and her mouth was finally able to close. Her eyes followed the noises at the door, and she thought there would be more physicians coming in to visit her but when she saw the figure in her vision, she had to blink to make sure that she wasn't dreaming.

The one person that she thought about calling was here. Although, now that he was here, her mind raced as she suddenly felt like it wasn't right for him to be here. It had never crossed her mind that it would be weird to see him again when she craved for him the moment she regained her consciousness but now that he was physically here, she wanted to shy away from the world.

Tears flooded her eyes as he stepped closer. When he wiped them away from her eyes, she finally saw his attire. He was in his business suit, and even his tie was still hanging loosely around his neck. She could only deduce that he was here for work. Then, she remembered.

He was here to take back GEH, because she was obviously unable to give consent given the state she must've been in when she was first brought in.

Her eyes dropped, and she was now overcome with sadness that he wasn't here for her. Who did she think she was anyway?

A droplet of tear landed on her cheek causing her eyes to snap open. His face was hovered above hers, and his arms were cradling her head as best as he could without having to move her. He was staring down at her, and she had no idea that he was crying because he hadn't made a sound. She searched in his eyes, wanting to find the reason behind his tears. It would've been the relief to see that she was finally awake, or it might be something worse.

"Thank god," he whispered, lowering his forehead until it touched hers. His fingers caressed her hair, lightly scratching her scalp, and his other thumb smoothed over her cheek.

Her eyes closed for a brief moment, enjoying the intimacy but the frustration of her immobility arose once more as she tried and failed to lift her arms so they could wrap around him to pull him closer. He was still her safe haven but right now, she felt like even god couldn't help her.

"I love you, Ana."

She nodded, that was the only movement she could manage, and fresh tears rolled down the corner of her eyes, soaking up the pillowcase.

A throat clearing from a doctor interrupted their bittersweet reunion, and Christian turned his head, resting his cheek on her head but still facing the doctor.

"Ms Steele," the simple term was enough to pierce their hearts as it was the acknowledgement of their divorce, a nod to their mutual decision to separate. "I am your doctor, and I want to give you a brief account of your condition."

Ana nodded, and Christian tensed. He already knew what was coming, and he was hoping that she would be optimistic about the news.

"You have sustained a spinal cord injury, as such you are now paralyzed from the neck down with little chance of recovery fully. Your speech function will come back to you very soon as the tear in your larynx is almost healed…"

The doctor could keep talking in layman's term and Anastasia wouldn't be registering a single word because her mind stopped at the end of the first sentence. Even if she couldn't speak at the moment, she knew that she would be able to make decisions for herself as her brain was surprisingly fine according to the doctors.

She had already made a decision, and when she had made up her mind so determinedly this time, there was nothing that could change it. She just had to put on a brave face until it was all in progress before breaking the news to Christian.

As hard as it was for her to make the choice that she did, she knew that it would be the hardest on him.

…

"Can I consent to it verbally as I obviously can't write. Or you can have my signature but I'll do my best to sign it with my head."

The doctor stared at her, clearly wondering how someone so humorous with a devoted man behind her made such a decision barely a week after learning about her hopeless conditions. She was still so young, and despite the limitations, the doctor had seen many people accomplish so much in life in her state.

"I can record you while you're attached to an EEG."

"Whatever you need to do."

"It might take some time to compile all the evidence we need in order to prove that you're fit to give consent."

"However long you need."

The doctor turned to leave, hiding the shock behind an impassive feature.

"One more thing, doc," she called after him weakly, she could feel the muscles that helped her breath becoming weaker with each passing day, and she had a feeling that it would only be a matter of time before her condition worsened and she would have to go back on a ventilation machine.

"Yes?"

"Don't tell Mr Grey. I know he's my next of kin and everything, but just don't."

The doctor gave her a grim nod before leaving the room.

…

"Ana…" Christian approached her bed gradually, and she knew that he knew. "Why am I being sent out for drugs to kill you?"

"I'm just being put to sleep, Christian," she whispered. Her eyes pleading him to not fight her on this decision, begging him to just comply for once without asking questions.

"I wish I can understand why you're doing this, baby." He shuffled closer and placed his head on the pillow next to hers as he sighed.

"Did you get them? The meds."

"Yes, I did. I told you that I'd do anything for you."

She nodded, and turned her head so that her cheek touched the tip of his nose as he watched her. His head didn't move an inch when the nurse came in to attach the syringe to her IV line.

"This is just like lethal injection for the criminals," she wondered out loud. "What's it gonna be like?"

"You are going to go to sleep, and then the muscle relaxant will stop your heart and your entire body will relax."

Christian winced quietly. He knew the old him would actually whimper aloud and whine about how she was leaving him behind, but he could tell that for someone to be stuck inside a body like Ana was especially when she wasn't born this way was too much for them.

"I guess this is karma for aborting our child."

"No, don't say that, Anastasia." His head shot up as he gazed at her with sad eyes. He wanted to be cheerful for her, but he couldn't. He was about to watch the love of his life die, and it was already a lot to ask for him to be okay with it.

"Okay," she smiled tearily. "Don't cry," she whispered with a small chuckle.

He smiled back at her. "I won't," he said bravely but he was already hiding the tears as they prickled behind his eyes.

"I'm ready," she turned to the nurse who pressed the button for the syringes to be emptied in sequence into her. Then, she left, leaving the couple to spend their last few minutes alone.

"I love you, Ana Grey. So much."

"I love you, too, Christian. Don't you forget that," she leaned forward slightly just so their foreheads touched. "Now kiss me."

He didn't waste a single second for their lips to touch, and he didn't want to ever forget the feeling of her mouth moving against his, and her tongue gently pushing against his, or how they swept across his lips every once in a while caressing them affectionately.

She pulled away, gradually. Her eyes felt droopy, and she wanted to see his face one last time before she closed them forever. He gazed into her signature blue eyes, and knew that it was time. Praying that she wouldn't see through his false bravado, he smiled and said as he watched her eyelids slid shut.

"Sleep tight, love. Dream of me."

X

Saph T