Chapter Twenty

I don't dare think that Bonnie has given up on us, but Christian and I have an uneventful week, the only drama being some protestors making me late for my lunch date with Mia, and she greets me, "I ordered for both of us. Should be here soon. Hope that's okay?"

I smile my gratitude, and joke, "Depends on the order."

"Their beet salad plus a grilled chicken breast. You're not allergic to hazelnuts, are you?"

I scan the description for anything incompatible with pregnancy, and soon say, "I'm not allergic to anything. That sounds perfect, thank you."

Once I'm seated, she asks, "How did he like the tie?"

When I enlisted her help buying the anniversary gift for Christian, I hadn't figured on needing to discuss it afterwards. Given what use he immediately made of it, I can't do so without feeling embarrassed. Ignoring the heat in my cheeks, I say, "He loved it, thanks."

"Ana, are you blushing?"

"It's warm in here." Not a lie.

"Well, anyway, I'm ecstatic that someone was finally able to add any color to his wardrobe. I have often reminded him that our surname was not intended as an instruction."

I can easily imagine such a conversation, which makes me smile. "I wouldn't get your hopes up; I suspect it's only because I gave it to him. Thank you so much for buying it. I could have asked a shop assistant to look at my eyes, and find a match, but felt weird about that."

"Any time, Sis. Hey, Ana, that procedure next month, do they think you'll see colors again?"

I shrug, and say, "Maybe. But this is the first trial, so no one really knows. And it's been so long since the accident that, realistically, we shouldn't expect much."

"Maybe stop talking about it then?"

I smile, and say, "Maybe. How are things with Ethan?"

"Well, I know he's a good kisser."

My smile widens, and I ask, "Oh, really? Just kissing?"

"Yeah, and I'm okay with that. I've never really taken the time to get to know a guy I'm attracted to, before jumping into bed with him. I mean, it's made for some fun times, and interesting stories. But it's kind of nice taking things slow."

Mia knows by now that Christian is my first love—my only love—and that he's the one who was hesitant about consummating our relationship, though not why. Beaming, I remind her, "I wouldn't know."

She giggles, and says, "Yeah, when it comes to my brother, you're a bit of a slut."

"Guilty. I'm glad it's going well with Ethan. And Laurent is leaving you alone?"

"Not a peep. I don't even know if he's still here."

I hadn't thought to ask Christian about that. I presume he's still having Laurent followed. "Hope not."

"Ooo, lunch. I'm starving."

Other than to thank the server, we don't speak for a few minutes. I've dined often enough with Mia that she knows to leave me in peace while I identify the items on my plate, and work out how to get them safely to my mouth. When it comes to my lack of vision, I'm probably more comfortable with Mia than just about anyone, including my obsessive husband. She has such a lack of guile that I never feel awkward about my disability when with her. The halved hazelnuts present a challenge, but I'm soon able to say, "Excellent choice, thank you. Is this goat's cheese?"

"Oh, forgot to mention that, sorry. Good thing you're not allergic."

A cold dread takes hold of me, as I remember one of Pam's instructions, and ask, "Is it pasteurized?"

"Uh, fuck, I've no idea. Want me to find out?"

Resting my cutlery on my plate, with slightly trembling hands, I beg, "If you wouldn't mind."

Mia must sense my fear, because she leaves the table, saying only, "Be right back."

She's barely left when Rose is close, asking, "Everything okay, Ana?"

I attempt a smile, and say, "Just finding out if I swallowed a mouthful of bacteria with this cheese."

"Anything I can do?"

Before I've answered, Mia announces, "All good. They're certain it's made with pasteurized milk."

I breathe a sigh of relief, and say, "Thank you, Mia. Thanks, Rose." It's a bit confusing when they both reassure me at the same time, and then Mia and I are again effectively alone. A nervous laugh escapes me, and I explain, "Rose thought there was something wrong."

Mia's tone is unusually solemn when she says, "I'm not surprised. You went as white as this tablecloth. Have you had a bad experience with raw milk products before? You know, if they use safe milking procedures, and age the cheese properly, it's not that risky. I ate raw cheese all the time in France, and never had a problem."

Oh, God, I really am terrible at keeping secrets. We're going to inform Grace and Carrick about the pregnancy on Sunday, and I don't want to upstage Christian's moment by telling the least discreet person I know beforehand. I can feel nervous sweat forming, and additional heat rising up my neck. I take a deep breath, and explain, "No, it's...I just didn't want to risk it. I'm fine now, thank you."

Mia's tone is again bright, as she asks, "Want me to remove the offending dairy product for you?"

That makes me laugh, and I say, "I'm good, thanks. What did you order?"

"The same. I've been here before." A little quieter, she continues, "Though I think they overdid the lemon juice today."

It tastes fine to me. I shrug, and comment, "Your palate is probably more refined than the average consumer."

"Which is why I love cooking. Speaking of which, are you and Christian free this Saturday night?"

Smiling, I guess, "You've found a place."

"I've found a place. Signed the lease this morning. It's fully furnished, so I can entertain right away. What do you say to a double date?"

"With you and Ethan?"

"Uh, huh."

She sounds nervous, so I assure her, "Sounds perfect. Other than Sunday brunch with your parents, we have no plans this weekend." And then I frown in confusion, to ask, "You don't want a housewarming party?" I hadn't known Mia very long before it was evident that she loves planning parties.

"No. Well, I probably will, but...Ethan is staying over afterwards."

I smile, and ask, "What happened to taking it slow?"

Mia giggles, and then says, "Technically, it's been months since I met him, so this is snail's pace for me. And he said, if I change my mind at any point, just to tell him. He's a good guy."

"Yeah, he is." For some reason I never wondered before. "Mia, are you pretty?"

A laugh erupts from her, and she says, "Sorry?"

Damn, and I'm blushing again, "No, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

"Yeah, it was; I'm gorgeous. Why are you asking?"

"Oh, I just remembered you describing Ethan as a hunk, and thinking about..." And I'm blowing it again. "About the future, you know."

"You're wondering if we'll make pretty children? Fuck, Ana, we haven't even done the deed yet, and you're planning our kids?"

It's been a while since I wished for that sinkhole to open beneath me. "I know. I'm sorry. Let's eat."

I wonder if she's guessed my secret, because I don't hear dining sounds from the other side of the table. And then Mia simply says, "Oh, my, God."

Shaking my head, I beg, "Mia, please don't say it. Like I said, we're visiting your parents on Sunday."

There's a worrying silence for a few seconds, and then she says, "No wonder you looked so terrified about the cheese."

"Yeah, but all's well so far. Please, Mia."

Her tone again light, she says, "All right, Sis. Mom's the unspoken word. I won't say anything."

I slump in relief, and say, "Thank you."

I resume my meal, reassured when I hear Mia doing the same. And then I almost choke on my food, laughing, when she hisses, "Slut."

Sunday morning, I wake without my husband—I'm used to that—to hear my phone chirping. I'm smiling in anticipation when I open the message. Sure enough, it's from Mia, and merely says 'He's not just a good kisser,' which makes me laugh.

I'm still smiling as I type a one-word reply, and have just sent it when Christian asks, "Something funny, wife?"

I show him the phone, saying, "Mia."

The bed dips beneath his weight, and he enquires, "Was it my imagination or was Kavanagh making no move towards the door when we left?"

"Not your imagination. I think you'll find that your sister has updated her relationship status this morning."

"Well, at least she's stopped uploading pics of her surroundings every minute of the day, but she shares too much. I have a fruit bowl and weak tea for you. That should tide you over until brunch."

"Thank you, darling. Did you not sleep?"

"Some."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah." There's nothing I can do about that, except try to make his waking hours enjoyable. He chuckles when I exhale into my cupped hand, checking my breath. And then he's kissing me. Somewhere in the middle of it, he stretches out along my body, on top of the bed covers. When we finally end the kiss, he declares, "Mmm, Ana flavored."

After my second laugh of the day, I say, "Well, I would be. Oh, darling, do we know if Laurent has left for France yet?"

I suspect it's bad news when he's suddenly gone from me. "I'm afraid he's vanished too. Someone tripped the fire alarm at his hotel, and he slipped away in the confusion."

Putting aside the fact that he kept this detail from me, I ask, "You think he tripped the alarm?"

"Orchestrated it anyway. His family appears to have connections in this country."

Well, that's not good. "Is he hanging around for business reasons?"

"I hope so. But I don't know."

A violent stalker might be so intent on Mia, that he's enlisting help from local criminals, and that's only one reason for Christian to have nightmares. "You're amazing."

"Me?"

"The weight of the world on your shoulders, and you bring me breakfast in bed."

My body is slowly being unveiled, as he asks, "Would you say that such consideration warrants a small reward?"

Confident that he'll recognize it as consent, I switch off my phone and put it on the bedside table.

Christian has explained how he intends to tell his parents about our baby, but not when, so I'm abuzz with excitement during brunch. He waits until we've all migrated to the living room, before saying, "Oh, Mom, you should check out the new wallpaper on my phone."

I know that he's showing her a sonogram, and Grace soon says, "It's lovely that you're remembering them, darling, but I've already seen this."

I'm picturing Christian's smug grin, when he says, "Look closer, at the date."

I presume Grace is stunned into silence, because it's Carrick who asks, "You're pregnant already?"

I nod as Christian says, "Yep. About six weeks from conception. Our very own Sea Monkey."

Grace has recovered enough to ask, "And everything is well?"

I smile and confirm, "Everything is perfect. The early scan was merely a precaution."

The next few minutes are a blur of hugs, congratulations and happy tears. When Grace has recovered a little, she requests, "May I tell my parents?"

Imagining their delight, I say, "Of course, but please ask them to keep it quiet. I know that it can't remain a secret forever, but want to keep it to family and friends for now. Oh, and we're leaning towards Theodore for a boy. Do you think your father would be okay with that?"

When this is met with only a gasp, I presume Grace is again weeping, as Christian reveals, "She's nodding." He sounds so happy when he continues, "Anastasia, you appear to have broken my mother."

Carrick laughs, soft and low, before saying, "Just a little water in the works. She'll be fine. Are you both free next Sunday? Grace will want to weep on you again by then."

Grace squeaks her outrage at this gentle teasing, as Christian explains, "We're visiting Ana's father next weekend, and it's Halloween after that."

"Okay, another time. Well, it's a bit chilly for sailing today. How about Scrabble?"

Christian chuckles, and says, "Fine by me, but you might lose your crown, Father." He then touches my elbow, and explains, "Carrick is undefeated in this house, partly because we refused to let him join in, once Mia was old enough to play without help."

And then I understand that Christian expects me to win. Inspired by his faith in me, I look at Carrick, and say, "Prepare for defeat, Grandpa."

Grace gasps, and there's a loud silence. I'm about to apologize, when Christian's warm hand is on my lower back, and he says, "Oh, dear, it now appears that you've broken my father."

I extend my arms towards Carrick, and he obliges with a hug. When he kisses my cheek, it transfers a happy tear from his face to mine, and he breathes, "Thank you."

We're heading home, the crown on my lap, while I gently explore with my fingers, and I remember to ask Christian, "You celebrate Halloween?"

"I'm happy to hand out candy, but I don't do costumes."

"You wore a mask at the ball."

"Because it was to raise money for the charity my parents founded in my honor. And they won't be fucking doing that again. I never liked the idea, and this year confirmed why; it's an invitation for gate crashers. Nefarious or otherwise, I don't want them near my family."

"They're seriously going to cancel their annual benefit?"

"No. They'll just come up with another theme, that doesn't warrant face coverings...well, Mia will. She also organizes their Halloween party, though she might be too busy this year, with a new home, career and boyfriend."

I smile at that, and ask, "It was Mia who made this crown?"

"Uh, no, that was me."

Carrick told me the crown is made of cardboard, covered with aluminum foil. A couple of the peaks are crooked, and the foil is peeling away in a few places. "How old were you?"

"Twelve, I think. Why?"

The image of that abused boy adjusts to this age, while I picture his intense expression as he crafted this loving gift. "Could we have this preserved somehow?"

"Sure, but it's pretty ugly, Ana. I'm surprised Dad kept it."

"I'm not. And it's beautiful to me." When his hand encloses mine, I know what he's asking, and an instinct makes me hesitate to comply, so he vows, "I'll keep it safe." It's enough that I relinquish my prize, and a few seconds later Christian embraces me as best he can, and asks, "Okay, baby?"

I savor the closeness for a moment, before saying, "Just emotional. Did I really make Carrick cry?"

Christian kisses my forehead, and says, "You did." When I don't speak, he soon adds, "And then whupped his ass at Scrabble."

It's not enough to make me laugh, but I smile and brag, "Yeah, I did."

When I'm again quiet, he asks, "Can I do anything?"

I rest a hand on his chest, and say, "You're doing it. Emotional doesn't necessarily mean sad. Perhaps talking about the baby is making me think of the future."

"I guess that makes sense. And how's it looking?"

Oh, that's why my feelings are sitting so heavy upon me. I kiss his shoulder, and reveal, "So bright with love that it almost hurts to look at it."

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad."

I lean my head on his shoulder, and agree, "Not too bad at all. I love you, Christian Grey."

He kisses me, tender and sweet, before saying, "And I love you, Anastasia, more than my next breath."

I understand this very well; the only life I value more than his is the one growing inside me.

I can hear the piano, so it's easy to find Christian. I'm now familiar enough with the apartment that moving into his eyeline isn't a challenge. He stops playing, and asks, "How's Mia?"

"Good. Thanks for giving me privacy to take her call. I'm not sure you'd enjoy much of what she had to say anyway."

He snorts in disgust, and says, "Well, I figured that Kavanagh would feature heavily in the conversation. And, yes, happy to remain oblivious of those details."

When I approach, he snares my hand to help me sit across his lap. And then he's kissing me as if we've been apart for days, not hours. I never get tired of how much he wants me. Just knowing it is enough to make me feel worthy of his desire, and fuel mine. One of his hands has found its way under the hem of my blouse. Before we're again lost to each other, I pull back a little, saying, "Uh, there was something else." When his hand stops, and he waits, I get brave enough to reveal, "Apparently, her apartment building does Halloween in a big way, basically a block party. And they've invited Mia to join in."

Somewhere during my explanation, Christian tensed. He doesn't relax much to guess, "And Mia invited you."

"Yeah."

He finally relaxes, and even manages to sound amused, when he says, "Are you asking my permission?"

"No. I'm asking you to be okay with me going, so that I can have a good time without worrying about you."

"Ana, just because visitors need to get past a concierge in the lobby, doesn't mean that place is secure. A child could find a way around that obstacle. And, if it's like a block party, it'll be a nightmare for our team, with residents and guests wandering in and out of apartments."

"What if I ask Jay's opinion, on how to make it work?"

"You already have." It's still a little disturbing, how well he can read my mind. When I merely shrug, he continues, "Ana, you shouldn't bother him on his day off."

"I didn't. Well, not directly. Gail emailed me the menu for the coming week, and I replied that I wanted Jay's opinion on something, adding that it's not urgent. He called me." I do feel a bit guilty about that, and add, "I would have asked Samantha, but she'd only tell me to ask Jay anyway." And I still don't feel entirely comfortable with her.

Christian quickly kisses me, and says, "All right, baby. You two are close enough nowadays that I'm sure he'll speak up if you cross a line. What did he suggest?"

"That I stay in Mia's apartment."

"That's it?"

"Basically. Of course, Rose will be with me, and you know I'll listen to her." When he makes no reply, I attempt, "You could come with me?"

"You'll be in costume?"

"It's Halloween. But it's optional, darling."

"And you wouldn't mind, that I'd be dressed differently than other guests?"

I smile, and remind him, "You being completely different to any man I've ever met is pretty much the only reason we're together."

He laughs a little at that, and says, "I guess so. Can I think about it?"

"Sure. Mia's only inviting a handful of people, so she just needs a few days' notice."

"Hope I never encounter the owner of these hands."

"Sorry?"

"My sister's 'handful' is anywhere from twenty to fifty people."