A/N: Life is crazy but not crazy enough to go without another Chapter of FSOC. Thank you to everyone who is reading the story. I hope that it provides you with a bit of distraction during our crazy COVID times. I am scheduled to work extra for the next several weeks so bear with me if it takes a little bit longer to get the next chapter out. I know that I say this nearly every week, but the exhaustion is really catching up with me. On that note, I am sure that I am missing typos right and left, please ignore them. The struggle is real.
Thank you for all of your follows, favorites, and reviews. They are a bright spot for me during this massive COVID clusterf**k. Stay safe!
Chapter 19
Learn to Share
I felt awkward all through dinner last night. Soon after Christian showed up, we all sat down to eat. On Barabai, everyone eats dinner together – my friends, the CPOs, Gail, and Barabai's caretakers. Christian waited until I sat down before he chose a seat on the opposite end of the extra-long table. As soon as the meal was over, I decided to end my agony and high-tailed it back to the beach villa. After a torch-lit rinse under the shower, I climbed into bed. I fell asleep as the melodies of my friends' voices at the big house carried late into the night.
We wake up the next day as the rising sun shines through the open wall facing east. I join Kate and Louisa on the beach for morning yoga. Sawyer and Reynolds surprise us by taking part. They have already been up and taken a run, ensuring the perimeter of the island remains secure.
Breakfast is a light, drop-in buffet. If our friends are cognizant of the tension between Christian and I, they are kind enough to refrain from bringing it up to me. After nibbling some fruit and yogurt, I head back to my villa. I know that Christian is hiding out in the treehouse and I suspect this is to avoid awkward encounters with me. I decide that I will stay by the pool at the beach villa to give him a wide berth. He should not feel like he has to lock himself away to avoid me.
From my villa's poolside, I have a great view of the beach and the lagoon. I watch as Elliott and Kate rig up the sailing dinghy and tack around the lagoon. At first, Elliott keeps pretending like he is going to make the boat capsize. Eventually, he quits trying to make Kate squeal. Soon, they are working together to trim the lines and work the tiller to make the boat scoot across the water. Elliott and Kate seem like they are too different to make a good match, but it is their differences that make their relationship work so well. Elliott's playfulness brings out a part of Kate that I never saw before they were together. In turn, Kate's own focus and drive similarly inspire Elliott to chase his own dreams as he strives to grow and develop Grey construction.
If Kate and Elliott are opposites, Frederic and José are two peas in a pod. From my perch, I watch as they dote on each other from two beach loungers. First, Frederic insists on applying sunscreen on his partner's neck and back. A bit later, José goes into the big house and returns with water and a snack for his companion. They go back and forth like this all morning – quietly caring for each other in such a natural and unassuming way.
Even the platonic couples partner up. I see Taylor and Gail walk along the water's edge. Taylor stops and picks up a shell to show Gail. Further down the beach, Ethan and Reynolds stand together. Reynolds is pointing to something in the distance which Ethan studies through binoculars. Sawyer is helping Mia try to reach the coconuts hanging in one of the palm trees. There is no telling what Mis is planning to do with coconuts. I enjoy the view from my perch.
At lunch time, I return to the big house to help Louisa unload platters of sandwiches and fruit from her bike trailer. We set up a self-serve station at the tiki bar on the beach. Elliott makes a plate to deliver to Christian in the treehouse. After lunch, Mia, Kate, and I opt to escape the heat by floating in the big house's pool.
Our days are all very similar on Barabai. Despite my efforts to give Christian space, he stays holed up at the treehouse each day until dinner time. We avoid close contact and each night I scurry back to the beach villa in hopes that he will feel comfortable enough to stay and enjoy time with his brother and the rest of the island's occupants. Despite a connection with the outside world, our first week on Barabai passes easily.
Our second week brings about a heat wave. An increase in the temperature and a decrease in the breeze makes for a wretched oppression amongst us all. Everyone is cranky. Kate and Elliott now refuse to sit next to each other at meals. Kate finds Elliott's frequent belching crass. Elliott is annoyed by the sound of Kate's chewing. Ethan seems to think Mia has the hots for Sawyer which is pissing Ethan off. Mia is pissed that Ethan is behaving like this because she swears she doesn't have the hots for Christian's CPO but even if she did she thinks it is none of Ethan's business since Ethan and Mia are just friends.
We don't see Christian until dinner time if at all. He spends the days in his make-shift office. More and more, Elliott is joining his brother in the treehouse which pisses Kate off even more than his table manners.
Attempting to escape the heat, my friends and I are lounging in the shade.
"Kate, I think it is sweet that Elliott is trying to help Christian with GEH. It's good for them to spend time together," I say in an attempt to placate my grumpy friend.
"Helping Christian? Don't let Elliott fool you. He is simply hanging out with Christian to enjoy the air conditioning and to play video games," Kate replies.
Mia clicks her tongue at Kate's words. This seems to further annoy Kate.
"What, Mia? Do you really think that Elliott is in the treehouse office working? He's a caveman not a CEO. He knows nothing about helping Christian run GEH," Kate snaps.
Mia continues to hide behind her sunglasses as she gives Kate a double click of her tongue.
"Stop making that noise Mia. If you have something to say, just say it," Kate demands. Uh oh, Kate's claws are out.
Mia does not bother to turn her head towards Kate when she speaks. "You know Kate, you should ask Elliott what he and Christian are working on. I know you think Elliott is just a goofball who likes to swing a hammer. You might be shocked to learn that Christian practically begged Elliott to come here and help him with GEH. The only reason that you and your paranoid brother are even here is because Elliott refused to come without you," Mia spits back. It looks like Mia's claws are just as sharp.
Frederic plops down on the foot of Mia's lounger and joins the conversation. "You are only partly right, Mimi. Kate got here riding on Elliott's coat tails, but Ethan is here for the same reason that I got invited. Grey needs able bodies along in case shit gets real."
"Shut up," Kate snaps at Frederic. "The only reason that you are here is because Grey wanted to swoop Ana up and trap her here with him. He couldn't very well rescue Ana and leave José in Dubai."
"Whatever," Frederic replies. "He could have left me behind and still rescued Ana and José . It's not like José even knew I was coming when he and Ana boarded Beyonce's plane. Trust me, I am here in case Christian's security alone can't handle things."
Mia snickers, "Really? What could you possibly do to protect Christian if Taylor and his guys aren't enough?"
Frederic raises an eyebrow behind his sunglasses but doesn't answer her. Surprisingly, Kate keeps her mouth shut. All I can say is, I am so confused. What are Christian and Elliott doing in the treehouse all afternoon? Why does Frederic think he is part of some covert security op? Not wanting to further the crankiness, I keep my questions to myself.
"Ana, would you let Christian and Taylor know that we will be dining soon?" Gail asks me.
I look around for someone else that can run this errand but find the beach empty as everyone has disappeared in search of cooler ground. Rather than reveal my desire to avoid Christian indefinitely, I put on my big girl panties and head down the walkway to the treehouse.
I find Christian sitting on the porch off the third-floor suite, watching the sun set over the water. I see a bottle of wine and a glass beside him. He doesn't turn to the sound of my approach. He looks so pensive and sad.
"Dinner is ready in the big house," I tell him.
He does not acknowledge me.
"Christian, it's dinner time." He moves the finger he was running across his lip to indicate he hears me. His eyes never leave the ocean in front of him. He looks so miserable.
Sighing, I find another wine glass and plop down in the chair beside him. I pour myself a glass and follow his stare out to the setting sun. We sip in silence for several minutes. Damn, this grape juice is delish!
"I'm glad you came with us, Ana."
"Thank you for sending a plane to get us."
"Anastasia, I will always keep you safe." Fuuuuuck, sad Christian is busting out the Anastasias.
I take another sip of wine and nod my head. What exactly is the conversation we need to have? I need to apologize for my Irish exit. I need to explain why I went to Dubai. I went to Dubai looking to find my inner courage. Now is the time I use that courage.
"Christian, I am really sorry about the way that I left Seattle." I keep my eyes looking out over the water.
"Why are you sorry? Are you sorry that you left or are you sorry that you are now stuck on an island with the chump that you left?" Christian's voice is shaded with hurt and bitterness. I take a sip of wine and pause before I speak again. We both keep our eyes fixed on the view in front of us.
"I am sorry that I was too scared to tell you what I was doing. I am sorry that I made you feel like I was running away from you. Mostly, I am sorry for hurting you." I try to keep my voice soft despite my racing heart. I am afraid to take another sip. My trembling hands would be a give-away.
Christian is silent for what feels like an eternity before he replies. "When I woke up in the morning and you were gone, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. I meant what I said that night, Anastasia. Without you, I am nothing." Well, if that isn't playing all his cards at once, I don't know what is. Christian has thrown the gauntlet down. He has dropped the mic.
I broke Christian Grey's impenetrable heart. I didn't just break it. I shattered it. How do we come back from this?
"That was not my intention, to shatter your heart."
Christian pauses for a long while. I ignore the urge to throw myself at his feet and beg for forgiveness. He would grant it, but our problems would remain unresolved. We need to talk through this if we are ever going to get back to a healthy relationship.
"What would you have said to me if the playroom pictures had not been released? That night, when we were going to have dinner at your place...what did you plan to say?"
"I'm not really sure. My plan was to listen to your version of your time with Leila. I mean, what is your take on your relationship with her? If Foolish is her version, what is yours?"
Christian doesn't reply. He swirls the drink in his glass.
"Why did you run, Anastasia?"
"I ran because I was scared. I still am. I am scared that I am not confidant enough to be your woman. You need someone strong and fierce. I thought that if I left, maybe I could find the part of me that is strong and confidant. Maybe then I could be the woman that you deserve." I speak softly, choosing my words carefully.
I feel Christian's gaze upon me. I keep my head straight.
"Are you kidding? You are the strongest woman that I know. You survived Stephen Morton. You not only survived, but you fought against the fucker. You fought so hard that he couldn't get what he wanted from you. You were just this little girl up against a grown -ass man. You fought him, and god damn it, you won. There is no one stronger than you, Ana." Whew, we are back to using Ana. We are making progress here. Be honest, be open, be vulnerable, I tell myself.
"I don't feel strong, not like you need me to be," I reply.
"What makes you say that? You are everything that I need."
"I'm not strong like Darci," I whisper.
"Who the fuck is Darci?"
"Darci from Foolish. She is strong and confidant and brave."
"Do. Not. Ever. Aspire. To. Be. Like. That. Book!" Christian bellows.
My head whips around to meet his gaze. "Leila is bat shit crazy, but her book is really good. When I read it, Darci spoke to me. Before I ever knew about Leila Williams, before I knew about the two of you, that book spoke to me. It made me want to find that part of me that Darci found. The part that was broken and that she put back together."
I swallow a deep breath and continue, "I don't want to be broken anymore. You deserve someone who is whole and undamaged." I stare into his grey eyes. I am surprised that I am not crying yet. This is the most honest and raw that I have ever been with myself and with anyone else. If Christian is going to play all of his cards in one hand, then so am I.
"Ana, that book is a work of fiction. There is no such thing as Darci. She is a figment of Leila's imagination." Christian replies. "Ana, how you are is how I want you. You are brave. You are assured. You are also tender, and thoughtful, and filled with more kindness in your little toe than Leila Williams and her Darci have in their whole bodies."
Christian's face moves forward so that our noses are nearly touching. Oh god I want to kiss this man. I want to show him how sorry I am and how scared I am. I want to give him all of my love. We sit there, breathing in each other's heat. Christian abruptly stands, he holds his hand out for me and pulls me from my chair. We walk to the edge of the railing. His hand slides around my waist and pulls my chest to his.
"I am sorry that I sent you away from Escala the night I told you that Leila wrote the book. I promise that I will never again push you away like that." Christian whispers into my ear.
I melt in his arms as a familiar wetness seeps into my panties.
"I am sorry that I made you stay away for two weeks," I reply.
"I am sorry that I did such a shit job of protecting our pictures. I promised to keep them safe. I failed you," he responds.
"I'm sorry that I ran to Dubai."
"I'm sorry that I have not shared my whole truth with you," he says.
I look up at him, not understanding. He lets go of my waist and starts unbuttoning his shirt. Without breaking eye contact, he reaches for my trembling hand. Slowly, Christian flattens my palm and places it to the bare skin over his heart. The grey in his eyes turns lighter. It feels like the pressure of my touch is exorcising him of the demons from his past. He is the first to speak.
"You are the only person that I have ever let touch me, Ana. You are the only one that I trust." He pulls my other hand to his chest. "When I was little, before I was adopted, my birth mother let her pimp do some awful things to me. The only way that I could handle the pain was to vow to never let another person touch me here again. Until you. When you left, I had a break through. I realized that not having you with me is so much more painful than any abuse that man ever did to me."
Tears stream down my face. "I love you, Ana. I love being with you. I crave you. I promise that I will be strong when you feel like you are weak. I promise to have enough courage for the both of us. As long as you promise that you will never let me go."
I nod my head as my sad tears become happy ones.
"I promise, Christian. I promise I will never let you go again. I…I love you."
His face breaks into a beautiful smile. Leaving my hands on his chest, Christian cups my cheeks with his hands. His lips meet mine. His kiss starts tender and warm. His lips coax mine apart. His tongue invades me. Oh, sweet lord, I have missed the way he tastes. We kiss as the last of the sun light slips below the horizon. When we finally pull apart, the sky twinkles with stars so much brighter than anything that I have ever seen before. This moment feels magical.
Mr. Sex-on-Legs swoops me up and carries me, bridal style, into his bedroom. I giggle as he tosses me onto his massive bed, canopied in gauze. Christian shrugs off his shirt and begins to unbutton his shorts.
Shit, I am about to kill the mood.
"Um, babe, I need to tell you something," I begin. His eyes dart to mine and show panic. I don't have time to explore what worst case scenario is flying across his mind. "I, um, missed my shot," I blurt out.
"You missed your shot, as in your birth control shot? Why?" His hands fly up to tug on his hair.
"I don't have health insurance anymore. I couldn't afford to see Dr. Greene, my regular doctor. I was waiting for an appointment at the free clinic."
Christian gives me the saddest puppy dog eyes. "Ana, I wish that you would have told me. I would have paid for your visit."
"We weren't exactly having intimate conversations at the time," I say, biting my lower lip.
Christian growls. He gives me a delicious kiss and hops off the bed as quickly as he jumped on. I can see the wheels of the great Grey mind turning at full speed.
"Stay here. Don't move a muscle," he instructs. "I'll be right back." He dashes shirtless from the room. I hear him run down two flights of stairs and down the path to the big house. I throw my head back onto the pillow and giggle. My silly, mercurial Mr. Grey. I love him!
Christian leaves me alone on his bed much longer than I expected. I really do not know where he went. Does he have some crazy pirate map for a buried chest of condoms? Wait, are condoms biodegradable? No, of course not. That would defeat the purpose. How embarrassing. We are totally going to have to save used condoms to haul off the island with the trash. That's so gross.
Just when I am about ready to send out a search party, I hear a horrible rattling and clinking sound coming up the boardwalk. It sounds like someone is rolling a steel drum full of broken glass. I get dressed and head over to the railing to investigate. What I see will forever be burned into my brain as the single most ridiculous site of this entire COVID fiasco.
Christian is riding Louisa's bike with the little rickshaw trailer behind it. In the moonlight, I see the trailer is full of dozens of glass bottles. As though the sight of Christian's large frame on Louisa's little bike was not funny enough, he is clearly angry. He is making growling noises and muttering to himself.
"Anastasia, get down here right now!" he barks up to the third floor.
I run down the two flights of stairs to find Christian now pacing and pulling at his hair.
"Help me get these bottles inside," he orders. "Those fuckers think they can keep all their condoms for themselves. This. Means. War!"
Son of a biscuit! It looks like Christian just confiscated all of the booze from the big house and the tiki bar. I am going to guess no one was willing to hand over a condom. He is so pissed off right now. I grab several bottles and stifle a giggle. We make several trips up and down the stairs emptying out the little trailer. The entire time Christian is angrily muttering to himself.
"Stupid, fucking freeloaders...going to wish they had never come to my island...teach them all about sharing…mother fucking fuckers…"