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lll
Talking to her, Steel, left me with more questions than answers but at the same time helped me develop a roadmap of how to move forward, or at least attempt to. We spoke for two hours and in the course of our conversation, I witnessed daybreak. While it wasn't entirely a new thing for me to see, something about this time felt meaningful and different.
"I know that your job is important to you but your health, both physical and mental, takes precedence. Take the day off, sleep in, order in your favorite food and watch a TV show–whatever your favorite activity is… indulge in that. Rest your mind for as long as you'd like. And most importantly, reach out to your therapist as well and tell them about this so you both can create a plan and tools to combat something like this happening again."
"Yeah, I'll do that." My words hold promise to hers.
Her voice is lighter, full of hope like the rising sun. "You got this, Grey."
She promises to stay on the line till I hang up and I selfishly want to hang on, even if it's to hear her breathe but this lifeline must come to an end and I need to stand on my own two feet again.
And so, with a great summoning of will power, I click to the end the call.
I did take the Grace out alone like I had intended but instead of disappearing as per my original plan, I thought long and hard about some of the things she said. Her voice echoes through my mind, questions begging for answers and then leading to more questions. Truths that I blindly followed and accepted, whose foundations had begun to show cracks and in some cases, complete structural failure.
Those cracks kept deepening and threatened a disaster but my attempt at a game of chance for kicks, as if to search for the last gust of harrowing wind to knock me down, backfired on me. I called in, wanting to be proven right that no one fucking cares and I'll just be fed some mundane script and rehearsed lines on what to do but I was delightfully proven wrong. Like that night when Grace came to my rescue, this woman did the same without knowing who I was, what I look like, what my net worth is. I was just a voice in need. She wasn't being paid, she volunteered her time, listening to whatever I wished to talk about.
"Some people are just meant to be alone and I know that I am one of them." I say. It's a truth I've accepted about myself.
"No one is meant to be alone, they may find themselves in a situation where they are but not out of destiny… because if that were true then we wouldn't have these thoughts, these curiosities that propel us forward and make us seek out others. If we had been meant to be alone from the start then you and I wouldn't exist, this world would never grow and the joys we know of, that are real, that bring us peace? They wouldn't exist either. We'd just be…. robots. I don't think robots know how to have fun."
I laugh and she giggles, "I suppose you have a point."
"Tell me, Grey, what brings you joy and peace?"
Everytime she says my name or color in this instance, it makes my heart skip a beat and I have to supress the urge sharing my real name just to hear her say it.
I'm not sure about joy but some semblance of peace, no matter how fleeting, I can get a sense of when I'm out on the water, walking through memories of Grandpa's orchards, flying, soaring… a lot of solitary activities.
Joy is missing. An emotion that will most likely involve people.
"My family deserves better than me. I avoid them because I'm not normal and they wouldn't understand."
"Has your avoidance waned their efforts to try and maintain a connection with you?"
"It hasn't. In fact, it's made them more annoying," I chuckle.
"If that's the case then you mean a lot to them. If they've stuck by you all this time then why would they leave you now? I also think you don't really believe in what you're saying. It's not about being normal, it's about your connection to them or you would have severed it completely." We're silent for a few moments, "the thing about family is that, when you want to come home, the door is always open. No explanations needed… not until after dessert at least."
I laugh again.
"How are you feeling?" I hear her smile.
"Better than I have in a long time, thank you, Steel."
"I'm so happy you are and you're very welcome, Grey."
Gretchen opens the door and blinks in astonishment. I haven't been in attendance at Sunday dinner in about three months or so. Her surprise is short-lived and fully transformed into an art of seduction when I simply greet her politely and walk past.
They're all shocked and Mom is the first to jump up and carefully hug me.
"Christian this is such a pleasant surprise! Why didn't you tell me you were coming? I would've made all your favorites!" She starts to spin out, "hang on! I've got some mac and cheese in the freezer, let me go and put that in the—"
"Mom, it's fine." I smile and kiss her cheek. She's startled by the sudden bout of affection I show her.
"I never get that treatment! It's always, eat what's in front of you," Elliot's impression of Mom earns him a glare from her which he laughs off. "What happened, bro? Gail go on strike?"
I roll my eyes and punch his arm when he comes close. It's our standard greeting minus the expletives in this case.
"Dad," I say in acknowledgement. He smiles and puts his hand out. I pull him into a half hug of sorts and it surprises him because I've never done it and the look on his face is priceless.
"It's good to see you, son." He chokes a little on his words. His hand is warm and so is the look in his eyes. "I-I'll get you a drink!" he says, stealing his eyes and walks away.
Elliot rushes towards me again and leads me to the main corridor off of the family room, "are you dying? Can I have the R8?"
"What?" I shove him back a little, "where the fuck did that come from?"
Elliot always uses humor and crass to mask his true emotions.
"I don't know, you're being… don't get me wrong, I like it so far but you're being weird."
"I haven't seen them in a while." I shrug and the look of speculation on his face is strong.
"MOM! We need a crash cart, an epi pen, some saline and I don't know a few cc's of xanax! STAT!" He yells and on cue, Mom comes rushing out.
I shove him to the wall, as she admonishes him. "Elliot, stop watching and repeating incorrect medical jargon you see on TV. Christian, sweetheart, are you okay?"
"He's been bodysnatched, woman! He's hemorrhaging." Mom glares at him again to shut up and Elliot laughs.
"I'm okay, Mom. Elliot however, needs a lobotomy." I roll my eyes and Mom giggles at my humorous dismissal of him before heading back to the kitchen.
"How about you start replying to my messages a little more enthusiastically and often if you miss us all so much?"
"I didn't say I miss you." I correct him.
"Sure you didn't… " He says.
I want to laugh but I need to pace myself with this attempt of a comeback. If I actually emote joy of some sort, it might send him spiraling in need of sedation or a defibrillator.
"Where's Mia?"
Now he rolls his eyes, "upstairs, watching some chick flick and crying. She got dumped. I tried talking to her but she refused to open the door saying she hates men."
I know for a fact he probably cracked a joke that pissed her off.
I can barely handle exuberant Mia and sad Mia might just do me in. Nevertheless, I walk upstairs and knock a few times once I reach her door.
"Go away, Elliot," she yells. "Your face and brand of humor is not welcome."
I knew it.
"Mimi, it's me." I answer and after a few moments of silence I hear her barreling towards her bedroom door.
"CHRISTIAN!" Christ she's loud and looking like a fucking mess in her oversized school t-shirt and worn out pajamas, hair messy and face all red and blotchy. Yeah, this is not the Mia I know at all. Now I want to murder the fucker who broke her heart.
We hug and she's the only one who gets to, "I am so happy you're here. You haven't answered any of my calls, I thought you were mad at me!" The guilt hits me in a giant wave. She needed me and I wasn't there. She weeps a little and I kiss the crown of her head before she steps out of my embrace then leans over the bannisters and loudly continues, "you're my favorite brother Christian." She's always said that and for some reason today I actually try to accept it. It doesn't come easily but it does feel good.
"Yeah! Well don't come crying to me when you want to hide a body in a cement pit." Elliot fires back from downstairs.
"My favorite brother's got a boat, I can dump it somewhere in the pacific where it will never be found."
"As a lawyer, I'm going to have to tell you both to shut the hell up about pre-meditated murder. And leave Christian out of it. He's worked too hard to lose it all over your lame attempts at homicide." Dad chimes in and we all chuckle.
I may have thought that I didn't care for his approval but his affirmation of my accomplishments is a welcome surprise that makes me feel like I'm ten feet tall all of a sudden.
Mia is off to the races. Her commentary is non-stop over the excruciatingly detailed account of her relationship with Evan. They were only together for two months. She's only 15, about to turn 16 in another month. I look at her with clear unbiased eyes and see what Steel meant by not really knowing much about life at such a young age.
Mia is my sister and I love her but she's still a dumb kid. Elliot did stupid shit too–so much stupid shit now that I look back on and I always saved his ass. What the hell was I thinking that I knew it all back then? Shaking off the thought, I try to pay attention to my current situation.
"I mean, he dumped me because I wanted to wait." She wails.
"I don't think I'm the right person to discuss this with and you shouldn't even think about sex till your 45," I reply, trying not to throw up.
"Just cause you're my favorite brother doesn't mean you get a say over my body. It's the 21st century, catch up. If I wait till I'm 45, my vagina will shrivel up and fall out like a dried up loofah."
"Okay, enough." I cover up my ears. Maybe this was a mistake, "this is too much information."
"Lighten up, bro! And it's TMI. God, you sound older than dad sometimes," she says dismissively and walks back into her closet, dedicatedly yapping on.
I look around her room and see how much it's changed, how much she's changed. Little things I've missed over the last seven years. She's always been on my side. When I was acting out and grounded indefinitely, she was my spy, telling me what Mom and Dad were talking about, sneaking in a snack, making sure I ate and got sunlight in my room so as to not turn into a vampire.
"And when school starts," she comes out of the closet dressed like a human being, jeans and a blouse with her hair brushed, "I'm going to show up to school in my revenge outfit and make him wish he never ever crossed Mia Grey!" She makes a dramatic gesture of the whole thing and we both laugh.
"What if it doesn't work?"
"Oh it'll work… I'm also going to spread a rumor that he has a tiny dick and herpes. I'm a cookie jar of bad ideas, bro." She smirks. Elliot's lingo is a disease, we all get infected eventually. "Now come on, let's go eat, all this scheming and moping has me starving!"
I follow her as she links her arm with mine, happy and full of life.
"I'm so happy you came today!" She says, giving my arm a gentle squeeze, when we descend the steps.
I look at her with a tentative smile and it hits me in that moment just how hard she would have taken it if I had really gone through with ending it all.
"Sometimes in living for those that we love and love us back, we can start to learn how to live for ourselves. Doesn't matter how small those steps are, they are still important and valid because they take you forward."
"What if I stumble, Steel?" My voice is suddenly heavy and my thoughts are laced with fear at the idea where control is not readily available.
"Stumbling teaches us to strengthen our intuition. You said you have a little sister, do you remember how she struggled when learning how to walk?" She asks. Her voice is soft and musical like a lullaby.
I look back on the memory of her tiny hands curled around my fingers as she took little steps before I'd let go. She would stand one her own for half a second and then fall back, landing on her diaper, happy as ever, not at all sad at the failure.
"I remember."
"Then remember to give yourself that grace," she replies.
Grace. I smile. I can try to do that.
"Woman, you cook a good meal!" Elliot says with his mouth full, as always.
"I concur." Dad nods, holding a glass up to Mom who giggles and blushes under the praise.
"I've missed your cooking." I murmur and silence falls on the table. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I roll my eyes and focus on my food.
"I'll pack you boxes to go! I know you said you have a housekeeper who cooks for you but you can keep these in the freezer or you can just come over during the week when I'm not on duty." Her voice cracks in heaviness.
"We get it Grace Trevelyan, Christian is your favorite son." Elliot gripes in jest and she narrows her eyes at him, while we all chuckle.
"All my children are my favorite. Don't make me deny you dessert, it's actually your favorite." She warns him. This means she's made peach cobbler.
Dinner is always a very vocal affair. Elliot will crack jokes and tell random funny stories. Mom will occasionally tell us about an interesting medical case, Dad is the same with his sharing of legal cases… sometimes we'll or rather they will comment on something happening in the mainstream media or politics. Mia will share some highschool drama. But, I barely share anything. They'll ask me about work and I'll give my usual clipped answers, trying to end the conversation and take the focus off of myself. My weekend proclivities don't exactly make for polite dinner conversation.
"I've pushed them so far away from me."
"I'm sure if you pull on the rope a little they'll come back," she answers, "perhaps invite them over to dinner at your place? Introduce them into the life you live away from them. Small steps, your space is your sanctuary and well, you love your family so why not include them in it?"
"Maybe next Sunday we can have dinner at my place? You all, well Elliot has but the rest of you haven't seen it yet." I ask and there is that silence again.
"Wait, are you gonna cook?" Elliot asks. "Mom, we're gonna need four crash carts and a few of the pretty nurses you work with on standby… STAT!"
I pinch the bridge of my nose as Grace and Elliot's laughter fills the air along with Dad's silent disapproval and Mia's groaning.
"Can we at least throw him off of the boat?" Mia points to Elliot, begging for the allowance.
"In this case, I am willing to skirt the law." Carrick winks, "in the art of homicide, practice makes perfect."
"It's great that you have a therapist. How often do you see them?"
"Not often. My work is demanding and I've been in and out of therapy since childhood. It all tends to go around in circles."
"I see, is there anyone else in your life you can perhaps talk to as well?"
"Not really, I don't have any friends… and I'm not sure I know how to make one or be one." Should I tell her about Elena? Then again, it's anonymous.
"Always start small. Maybe talk to a coworker or the barista you buy coffee from?" She offers, "sometimes friendships are immediate and sometimes they grow over time but they all start with a simple smile or greeting. Small talk can seem daunting but you go at your own pace and test it out."
"I can't exactly be friends with a coworker," it's sexual harassment suit waiting to happen, "because I'm management position."
"I can understand that." She replies thoughtfully, "perhaps just some polite small talk to test the waters? Ask someone about their weekend or talk about the weather? Topics like that tend to have an expiration or depending on your comfort level can also continue if you try and connect it to something else."
I ponder over her idea and tell her I'll try it.
The weekend was spent working and with the family again. I took them out on the Grace. While I didn't burst out of my shell, I did manage to engage a little more than I usually do. I think I had Mom in a permanent state of being teary-eyed and Dad in a state of tripping over his words. It was a nice change of scenery.
Interestingly, not once did I think about sex. But I did think about her.
Her voice, her laugh and her words. It was an anchor I held on to in my mind whenever I felt like I was about to retreat.
"You got this, Grey."
Monday brings along its own brand of amusement. I started off by asking Gail how her weekend was and she seemed surprised by my inquiry but answered graciously nonetheless. Next up was Taylor. I asked about his daughter and how old she was. He wasn't expecting it and answered carefully that she was well and enjoying her new school so far. When I asked if he missed her, he answered with a resolute, yet tender yes. A soft smile tugged his lips and I saw pride in his eyes. It was a look I'd seen many a time in Dad's eyes when he played with Mia and then I saw it for myself this weekend when we joked around on the Grace and I told him about GEH's plans for expansion on the east coast and europe soon after.
Andrea follows me into my office with her iPad in hand to go over any important messages and meetings that need to be attended today. She's the epitome of professionalism even though I've been a grade A asshole and overall tyrant in this year and half that she's worked for me. I am demanding, temperamental and loud in my dissatisfaction with no regard of how late it is when I call or email her for whatever I need.
When we conclude our morning run through of my schedule she nods and turns to walk out.
"Andrea, a minute."
"Yes sir?" She turns around and looks at me, waiting for further instruction.
"How was your weekend?"
Her eyes widen in surprise and she stammers, "m-my we-weekend?" I nod with a small smile and she quickly recovers herself. "Uh, sir… it was nice. I, um… I drove down to Portland to see my brother and sister-in-law. They just had a baby boy." Her eyes light up in memory, no doubt.
"Sounds like you had a lovely time."
She smiles. "I did. Thank you for asking. I hope you had a good weekend too."
I nod and tell her I spent it with my family as well. Once she leaves, I take a deep breath. That wasn't so bad. Small steps. I can do this.
Closer to lunch, I walk into Ros' office and find her slicing someone to pieces on the phone before hanging up.
"Why are men such untalented and braindead imbeciles?" She huffs and the thought of Mia and Ros bonding over their hatred makes me chuckle. "Present company excluded of course," Ros quickly corrects herself.
"No, I think most of my kind are."
She smiles and we sit to go over some of the details of the latest company we're in the hopes of trying to acquire in Texas. When we're done, I ask her about her weekend as well and I remember how she would always try to talk to me but I never gave her information, thereby setting a strict business only precedent even if she still decided to share tidbits of her personal life.
"You" she points to me, "want to know how my weekend was?" I nod. "Did you hit your head? Who are you Christian Grey?" I roll my eyes and she laughs but not for long. "Weekend was, you know, the usual. We binged another show on netflix when I wasn't working and then Gwen dragged me out for hiking to calm my mind. I swear if I wasn't in love with that woman, I would've ditched her. I'm a city girl, I don't do outdoorsy shit."
They met six months ago. Gwen is five years older than us and Ros is just hopelessly in love with her. She's a teacher at one of the public schools in the city and they met at a fundraiser I refused to go to earlier in the year. They're complete opposites but seem to work, not that I would know much.
"Maybe we can all go some time? Elliot lives for that shit too. He likes Dash Point State Park."
Her jaw is on the floor. I may have to check for a pulse.
"You want to be seen out in public with two quarreling lesbians outside of work?" She asks and I chuckle. "It's your funeral. God, Gwen will be over the moon. If she could she would live in the wilderness but the art and the children also call to her," Ros snickers. "Yeah, we should all go. It'll be fun. God knows we need to unwind from the craziness of all this."
I won't lie and say that I haven't thought of employing illegal means to try and find out who Steel really is. Aside from the usual submissive background check, I haven't really asked my security team to expand their parameters beyond the usual.
I made an appointment with Flynn, my therapist for the last year who I have barely seen… and told him about my crisis, I suppose. I think I worried him at first but by the end of the session I had made the confession that I really want to get better and live better. Hope isn't something I've held on to but it's somewhere nestled in the deep waters of my mind and I can see it float in the distance and get closer in reach.
But in order to be successful, I need to do something first. It's obvious. I see the missed calls and grind my teeth to keep myself from going into a fit of rage at the weekend realizations and the things that Steel highlighted about our relationship.
"Andrea," I press the intercom, "I need Taylor and Welch in my office immediately. And from here on out, if Mrs. Lincoln calls, take a message and throw it in the trash."
"Consider it done, sir."
I need to get rid of Elena and untangle the web she's wrapped and trapped me in.
A/N: Writing this chapter was really satisfying for me. I'm not sure why but it was. I'd love to hear what you think!
Katie, if you're reading this, I've been a little lazy with adding the links to all the chapters to the Her Wedding Night/A Bad Word main page on my website/blog. I am going to try and do that this weekend! thank you for checking in :)
And to the nasty trolls, please do tell me how your words taste after this chapter? *EVIL CACKLE*