Okay, I'm not so cruel as to leave you with that cliffhanger for another entire day. But did I have you going for a second? ;)
Chapter 5
Ana
Separation Agreement
1. Christian and Anastasia Grey agree that we are going to live apart beginning on March 27, 2017.
2. We will continue to share ownership of all properties and access to our joint bank and credit card accounts, which we will use to pay expenses as usual. Mr. Grey's account managers will continue to pay the bills from our joint account.
3. Mr. Grey will live in another location of his choosing. Mrs. Grey will stay in the house with the kids. Mr. Grey will come to the house to see the kids on the following schedule: every Saturday from 4:00 to 8:00 p.m., and all day every Sunday, provided he is in town. He may see the kids more if we both agree. Mrs. Grey can be present during the time that Mr. Grey is at the house, or not, at her option. Other than the scheduled visitation times, Mr. Grey will not come to the house unless we agree in advance.
4. This agreement is valid until June 27, 2017. After that, we will decide whether to begin divorce proceedings or to make a new agreement.
Signature:
Signature:
Christian is as white as a ghost as his eyes frantically scan. The hand holding the papers falls limply to the side when he's done, and the other makes its way into his hair.
My heart aches for the two people who entered a marriage together a few years ago. I have no doubt that neither of them would have seen this coming at the time. I swallow my tears, avert my eyes, and launch into my prepared speech.
"This is the draft that the lawyer and I came up with. I understand if you'd like to have a lawyer of yours look over it and make some changes. I purposely did not bring this to Carrick because I thought you might want him to represent you. The only thing I must insist on is time with the children. I know you're very busy, but they miss you and they need their father. It's unfair to them, so I'm asking you as their father to make more time to see them.
"I also understand that GEH is going through major changes and it would be inconvenient for optics if news of a divorce came out. We can wait to pursue divorce whenever it wouldn't take away from the work GEH is doing and I will leave that decision up to you and your PR team. I am not asking you to jeopardize everything you've worked for, but I do want documentation in place for when we do file.
"Finally, I want to put your mind at ease and let you know that I have no intention of going after half of your fortune. I don't want any money. I will be fine with my own salary. I don't spend any of your money now unless it's to do with the kids. If you want Grey Publishing, we can negotiate that later and I'll find something else to do."
As I finish, I look up and see Christian staring off into space, blinking rapidly. Before I can register what's happening, he launches himself towards me, kneeling in front of me with his arms around my legs and his head against my knees.
"Ana, please, no. I don't give a fuck about the money, I don't want to separate. I don't want to divorce. Please let me explain. I know I've been a shitty husband, but I swear I can explain." His voice is rushed, panicked, and his hold on me is a vice grip. It's confusing after so long without his touch. It feels right and wrong, comforting and suffocating.
I lean down and attempt to extricate his arms from around my calves, but he won't budge. He looks up at me and I see tears running down his face. I close my eyes and cover them with my hands. God, this is so confusing.
"Christian, what possible explanation could you have for ignoring me and your children for the better part of a year? There is no explanation for that. We have no business being in a marriage if that's something that can happen so easily."
"Please, Ana!" he sobs. "It was for you. I knew I wasn't good enough for you, so I thought if I could push you away, then you'd be able to move on and be with someone you deserved. It took me way too long to see that all I was doing was hurting both of us, but I swear, I thought I was doing it for you. You have to believe me. I can fix this. We can be happy again. I never wanted to be without you, and now everything can go back to normal."
It takes a good thirty seconds until after Christian is done speaking for his words to really sink in. I stare blankly at the floor and he lifts his head from my lap to look at me. "Ana? Ana, please say something."
"Get off me," I whisper. I need to think. Stop crowding me.
He leans back and stands up, looking at me like I'm a ticking time bomb. And maybe I am. I can't remember the last time I felt this… angry. Betrayed. Manipulated.
"Do you have any idea… any idea how manipulative what you just described is? How dehumanizing?"
Christian gasps. "Ana…"
"No. Don't Ana me. You decided to rewrite this whole story on your own. You decided to change the ending. I never wanted anything but you. I chose you knowing exactly who you were. Or so I thought, because the man I thought I married would never be so underhanded and disrespectful to me.
"For the last year, I've driven myself crazy wondering why. Who is this man? How did everything go wrong so fast? How did I go from feeling like the center of your universe to being in exile? I see all my calls get declined, to the point that I just decide to stop calling, I watch you barely tolerate me on the rare occasions we are in the same place, and now you tell me that it's all because you took away my choices and controlled everything. I never would have chosen this for myself. You chose to stop being a husband to me. You chose to shut me out. I had no choices. You fly around the world and can't even bother to text me, you hire leggy brunettes to wait on you in God knows what ways, you can't even visit your children, and I'm just supposed to be fine with it because it was all in some misguided attempt to save me?"
"Ana, there's nothing happening with any other woman. What you saw earlier was nothing and I fired her for disrespecting you. I can't even see any other woman but you." He takes a step towards me and I immediately step back.
"Christian, I honestly don't care about the specifics. Whether or not you've been with other women, you left me. Even if you thought you were doing me a favor, you absolutely were not. I can't stay in a marriage where my husband could at any moment decide that I'm not handling my life the way he thinks I should and proceed to freeze me out for over a year. What would that look like to the kids? Do you think I want them growing up thinking that it's okay for a relationship to look like that? Do you know how many nights I've had to rock them to sleep crying, asking where Daddy is and why he's never home anymore?" I take a ragged breath. "No. If you want to fix things, you need to start with yourself. You need to get to the core of how you could do something like this, how you could intentionally blow up our relationship, how you could potentially fuck up your relationship with your kids for the rest of their lives. And until you do that, there's just no room for an us."
I get up from the couch and head for the door, turning to face him when I reach it. Christian is holding the papers again, but has fallen to his knees. Tears are freely flowing down his cheeks and his breathing is labored. I close my eyes and wrap my arms around myself, trying to control my own chaotic emotions.
"Please, if you feel anything for me, just let me go. Sign the papers. All I care about right now are the two people sleeping upstairs who just want their father back. We have children and we need to focus on them. From now on, we're co-parents, but as far as I'm concerned, we live separate lives. I'm going to sleep in a guest bedroom. If you want to use the master, go ahead." And with that, I head upstairs.
Earlier, I had a feeling I would need it, so I set my things in the guest room that's closest to Teddy and Phoebe. I lock the door behind me and slide my back against it until I'm on the floor. My breathing picks up. I feel like I'm crashing from an adrenaline rush and I can't believe the shit I just heard. More than ever, the man downstairs feels like a stranger.
I have no idea how to begin to process what just happened. I feel a dampness on my cheeks that I keep wiping away, but the tears just keep coming. From my position on the floor, I see the notebook that I took from its usual position stowed in the music room.
Yes. You do know what to do.
I pick myself up of the floor, open the book, and begin to hum and write.
A/N: Please let me know your thoughts. I'll update again as soon as possible, but I'm working on a project for the next few days and Mondays are my busiest!