As I have been saying since March, all rights to the characters and the story of FSoG belong to a very wealthy woman whose pen name is E L James
This story & all of its mistakes are mine.
Ana
December 2019
"We are pathetic, Ana," Kate mumbles while chewing a mouthful of her double cheeseburger.
"Um…." I shake my head while finishing my own and drain my diet Coke. "I'm perfectly fine if pathetic tastes this good."
"Yeah, but you aren't the bitch who gained seven pounds since her last doctor's visit!"
"Beetch"
My eyes grow wide and I scowl at Kate, who quickly puts a hand over her mouth.
"Max, what has mommy told you about saying bad words? They aren't nice and you shouldn't say them. Aunt Katie, tell little man that you're sorry that you forgot saying bad words isn't nice."
"Aunt Katie is sorry, baby. If you hear me say a bad word again, I will put five dollars in the swear jar instead of just one, okay?" Kate says this as I stomp on her foot under the table. I smile when she winces. "Let me clean you up, Max. You are covered in cheese and mustard." Her mommy voice is gentle and soft.
Kate removes wet wipes from her diaper bag and starts cleaning my son's hands and face. Little Emma Grace finally quit fighting sleep and is curled into a little ball in the booth beside her mother. We are eating lunch at Ricky G's, a wonderful greasy dive that's beside the office of Safe Haven. This means that Kate and I get our fix of greasy food by walking a mere eight feet from work. As our pregnancies have progressed, we find ourselves gorging on Ricky's cheeseburgers and chili fries more often.
"I 'ont wisten to anty Kite's baw woos," Max says in his little voice that always makes me smile.
"You are a good boy, Max. I know you won't," I tell him, ruffling his blonde curls and grinning broadly.
"At least Aunt Katie doesn't talk like Uncle Elliot, Max. Hasn't he put about three-thousand dollars in your swear jar already?" Kate laughs.
My sweet man nods his head excitedly at the mention of Elliot. Elliot and Max share a close bond, and Kate says it's because Elliot has the mentality of a child. I believe it is because poor Elliot is drowning in estrogen. Having a wife, three little girls, and another girl on the way must have Elliot craving testosterone.
"Alright, little man. I think you'll do. Mommy will have to change your clothes. Ana, please tell me you have some extra clothes for this child."
"Yes, super mom. You fail to remember that I've had two years of mommy experience, and I learned the drill a long time ago," I reply, sticking my tongue out at Katherine.
"Mature, Ana. Real mature," she says. "Oh, I feel like a beached whale," she says as she rubs her pregnant belly. "Do we really have to go back to work? How about sneaking off to my house and propping up our swollen feet?"
"Nope. We have to go through your husband's drafts of the new Safe Haven we are opening. I'm excited that Dr. Swann suggested expanding to smaller cities. I cannot believe we never thought about that before! It's not as if bigger cities like Seattle are the only places where abused children are. While the four centers we have are a lot of work, I am still looking forward to opening up new ones. Your idea of opening centers down the West coast is wonderful."
"Of course it is." She giggles. "I do believe it has been your gorgeous best friend's winning personality that's attracted so many benefactors. Oh, Ana, what would you do without me?"
"F. U. C. K. you, Aunt Katie," I say deadpan.
Max is banging his little hands on the tray of his high chair when my cell phone rings.
"Hello, this is Ana."
"Good afternoon, Ana. This is Ros Bailey, from GEH. How are you?"
Suck in shock. Inhale a gulp of air.
GEH. Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc. Grey House. Grey. Christian Grey. Christian. He who shall not be named.
My stomach plummets, well, as far as it can since my twin daughters are nestled beneath it. I seem to have lost my voice, since I open and close my mouth twice. I snap my fingers to catch Kate's attention, who is doing her best to wake Emma Grace. She looks at me speculatively.
"I'm well, Ms. Bailey. How are you?
Kate's brow furrows. I know that she is trying to figure out who someone named Bailey is.
"I'm very good, thank you. Is this a good time for us to talk? I hoped to discuss something that pertains to your foundation. We heard the wonderful news that Safe Haven is expanding to other cities, along with opening several centers in Oregon and California," Ros says.
Umm…I have no idea where this conversation is headed, but I don't want it near its ultimate destination. I can almost smell Christian's stench through my cell phone.
"I can speak with you now. How can I help you?"
"Well, GEH is impressed with the work Safe Haven is doing with abused children in area, along with the safe house you provide for runaways."
I am staring at Kate, panic stricken, while she keeps mouthing, "Who the fuck is it?"
"Thank you, Ms. Bailey. We are certainly trying to make a difference around King County, and we're looking forward to helping children elsewhere," I respond, praying to God she doesn't mention he who shall not be named.
Please. Please. Please.
"I realize you are a busy woman, so I'll cut to the chase. GEH is interested in giving a donation to Safe Haven, although the foundation might deem the donation too much. GEH believes this donation could help Safe Haven expand even further, perhaps across the country, along with your organization's future endeavors."
Max starts banging his Sippy Cup on the high chair. He is getting as impatient as I am uneasy. What does giving a donation that Safe Have may deem as too much mean?
That has HIS name scrawled all over it.
"Oh, is that your son? I apologize if I called at an inconvenient time. Would you rather call me back?" Ros asks me.
My eyes widen. Fuck no. I don't want to call you back. I wish that you wouldn't have called me in the first place.
"Yes, that is my little Max. He just had lunch and is ready to get out of his high chair." I laugh, trying to sound genuine. "I don't have to call you back, Ms. Bailey. I appreciate GEH wanting to contribute to our foundation, and it will mean a lot to the children. I don't handle the financial aspect of Safe Haven. You would have to speak to Katherine Grey. She is the Board member who handles our finances. I suppose you could refer to her as our very own CFO," I quip.
The three letters G, E, and H have Kate's eyes widening into two saucers. Shocked, she immediately stills and does not flinch as Max's Sippy Cup slings apple juice all in her hair, nor does she notice that Emma Grace is tugging on her arm so hard that she is pulling Kate's sweater down.
"I understand that. I just took the amount of the donation into consideration and thought that, as the founder of Safe Haven, you might want to hear it from me first. I was also afraid of any negative reaction you might have concerning where the donation is coming from," she replies. "I just wanted to personally assure you that our company has a committee that decides on the charities we recognize as outstanding and want to donate money to. As a member of that committee, I don't want you to think that Mr. G…"
I swallow hard. Shut her up. Shut that down. Don't say that name.
"Ms. Bailey, I understand where you're headed, and you don't have to reassure me about your company's philanthropic committee. I believe you. If you would like to tell me the amount of GEH's donation, that's fine. You can discuss it further with Mrs. Grey." My words come out in one rushed breath.
"That will be wonderful. Just please hear out the committee's reasoning for the amount of our donation…."
Thirty minutes later, Emma Grace and Max are safely ensconced in our on-site daycare, and I am sitting in a chair across from Kate's desk. She looks as shell-shocked as I feel. We just sit and stare at one another. Kate runs her hand through her short, blonde bob, swivels her chair around so she could look out the window, and keeps repeating the word 'fuck' to herself. It's another pathetically gray and rainy afternoon in the Pacific Northwest. I try to distract myself from this fucked-up situation and wonder why in the hell I couldn't have been born in southern Florida. It doesn't work, and I'm left wondering about the truth behind this shit. My peaceful life is now comparable to Poland being invaded by Nazi Germany during World War II. I would be running down the street if I weren't seven months pregnant with twins.
"The contribution is the exact amount of money that you returned to him? You're positive it's what you returned after you made him believe you had taken half his fortune?"
"Yes, minus the five-hundred-thousand that I kept to start Safe Haven," I reply quietly.
"What should we do? Yes, it's an obscene amount of money. Shit, it's ridiculous to refer to it is as a mere donation. However, we could use it to do so many good things. Fuck the West coast! We could open up facilities across the country and still have tons of leftover cash for years."
I sigh deeply, resting my hands across my enormous belly, and Kate turns back around with her arms crossed. We look at one another with bewildered and suspicious expressions.
"You're positive it's the same amount? The amount minus what you kept out?" She asks, pressing me further.
"Yes, Kate! Damn, we both did the math!" I practically shout.
Her lips are twisted and she has her eyebrows raised. It is Kate's trademark look when she's contemplating a serious situation.
This shit storm is one serious situation. Jesus H. Christ! GEH?
"You haven't overheard anything about this around the family? Elliot hasn't mentioned anything? What am I even thinking? If anyone knew about this, it would be Grace, and since she is the Board's supervising pediatrician, she would have said something in advance. She wouldn't just let this drop out of the sky without warning me." I feel a headache coming on, and really, really hope it's not a migraine.
Then again, anything that remotely involves he who shall not be named gives me a migraine.
"Ana, you know damn well that I would have told you the second that I heard this crazy shit! What I want to know is what in the hell he is up to. He is GEH, and that amount of money is more than some countries have! That means that this idea was not presented to him, but he was the one behind it! That control freak probably knows how much cash he's got down to the last penny," she says brusquely. "I'm going to call El and ask him if he knows about this."
Kate picks up her cell phone, yelps while pushing herself out of her chair, and quickly waddles toward her private bathroom. "Elliot Grey's daughter just bounced on my bladder. Lemme go pee and then I'll call him."
Kate calling Elliot over this? No. Nope. Not going to happen. That is such a bad idea that when Kate said it, a neon light flashing the word 'danger' should have gone off over Kate's head.
Kate stays in the bathroom all of two minutes. "Do you ever feel like you're going to piss yourself, and when you make it to the toilet, a trickle barely comes out?" She asks.
I cannot resist rolling my eyes. "Such lady-like words from the mouth of Katherine Agnes Grey. Mr. and Mrs. Eamon Kavanagh would be so proud," I say, as Kate reaches for her phone.
"No, Kate. We are not dragging Elliot or anyone else into this conundrum. The board is meeting tomorrow evening to finalize the plans for the benefit. A contribution as large as this will be discussed at length and we can get Grace's thoughts then. He who shall not be named doesn't share information concerning GEH with his family. I'm sure that Grace will be as floored as we are when she hears about her son's…quote, unquote, donation."
Kate doesn't respond; I hope for once she is considering what I said and silently agrees. Her annoyed emerald eyes bore into mine, and I recognize my own question in them-why?
"You realize that even though GEH is making this donation anonymously, the donor is automatically invited to the benefit? I say this because it means HE will be invited to the benefit. What's he goddamn playing at, Ana? Why does he suddenly want to donate eighteen fucking billion dollars to Safe Haven? Billion with a fucking capital 'B'? Has he gone bat shit crazy again? He's been home from Switzerland for months, he finally met a woman who is supposedly decent, and now he unexpectedly decides to pop up into your life. Moneybags doesn't do shit without an agenda. It's confounding at the moment, but I will figure this shit out."
I cannot keep from laughing at her.
"What?" she snaps.
Kate's tone only makes me laugh harder. "You're killing me with this Agatha Christie attitude. Seriously, you know we'll never know the reason behind it," I say, my humor abating. "As much as we'd both like to grill Grace for information, we aren't going to. Like I said, it will be brought up tomorrow and she can throw her two cents in if she wants to. I would also like to remind you, dear friend, the woman whom you proclaim supposedly decent, might actually be a nice woman. You would know if you'd have interacted with her at Sunday's dinner."
Katherine throws her head back and her arms in the air. "Listen! I was painstakingly polite when we were introduced and I wasn't faking it either. Elliot and the family accept how I feel, and don't expect anything beyond polite respect between us. We have discussed this, Ana. I want him to be a decent person, although I love you and you come first. I'm not rude to him or openly hostile, and don't forget I kept mum when Elliot wanted him as little Ana's godfather. I'm with you, I want him to meet a woman and be happy. However, if he has a woman in his life, and she is by his side the entire time, I'm not going to stand beside him and make small talk with her. If he's off taking a piss or she's in a room with just the women folk, -then I will be genuinely nice to her. Well, unless she's a total bitch . . . or a brunette," Kate says, smiling. "But I refuse to engage in fucking get to know you conversation underneath HIS microscope. You and I can have all of the hope in the world for him, but I still don't trust him, and I'll sure as fuck never like him."
Nodding, I sigh deeply. Years may have passed us by, changing who we are, yet there are some fractures so deep that they will never heal. Kate's office phone is ringing off the hook, and I'm lost in the way the rain is beating on the windows, my mind a million miles away. This day started out serene and one phone call changed all of that. It makes me happy to imagine all of the wonderful things we could accomplish with that absurd amount of money, although I flip the other side of the coin and feel pissed off. Fuck being pissed off. I am furious. I've left he who shall not be named alone from day one. I gave him back his money within a matter of days, handed him the keys to Grey Publishing when I could have sold it to the highest bidder, and I destroyed everything that could have ruined him. I took the heat from the unrelenting media after he snuck off to Switzerland. I was hounded by the tabloids and humiliated over 'Grey's affair with mystery brunette' when the entire time I could have ruined him by exposing what Miss Haley Sams really was. However, I didn't and he never thanked me, nor has he ever apologized for what he did to me. Yes at the time, I thought I'd lost something I'd never get back. No –I never believed anyone else would ever compare or make me feel what he did. No, I never believed in my lifetime that my heart would heal. But yes. I somehow knew I would survive if I never heard him thank me or apologize. And I did. I found the courage to be exactly who I was without ever hearing his apology.
"ANA!" Kate's ear piercing shriek drags me into the present.
"Sorry, my mind left the building around your third phone call."
"As I was saying, how are you going to broach this subject with . . ."
Shit.
I hadn't even thought about that. I lean my head back and groan.
"Jesus, I'm glad you brought that up," I say, cutting her off. "My baby brain is off the charts and it hadn't even crossed my mind. I wonder how that will play out. Fuck! What's your opinion? Do you think I should wait and say something after the Board meets tomorrow evening?"
"Sure, Ana. . . I think you should keep this from the father of your children- who is also the man you still refuse to marry," Kate says, glaring at me. "Of fucking course I don't think you should wait until tomorrow! Are you insane? I cannot believe those words just came from the mouth of Ms. Honesty herself. That would be a blatant omission of the truth and that makes it a fucking lie. I hate liars, and you hate liars, so don't be a goddamn hypocrite!"
Kate's angry scowl makes me howl with laughter.
"Instead of Max having a swear jar for Aunt Katie, maybe I should have one. God, woman! You sound like a drunken sailor after his ship has just ported for the weekend. I think that boarding school you attended should give your father his money back."
Before she can reply, Kate's office phone rings again, and after answering it, she looks at me with large, scary, green eyes.
"Yes, Ms. Bailey…."
Oh, hell no. I'm so over hearing about this shit.
I clutch the arms of the chair, push myself up, and wave goodbye to Kate, who is gesturing wildly for me to stay in her office. I shake my head no, hastily make my exit, and head to the daycare to find my little man. This woman is done with discussions over he who shall not be named or anyone involved with him and his over the top donation to Safe Haven. To hell with that shit.
Upon entering the spacious daycare that Elliot's company designed, I find that all ten of the children are sound asleep. Dasha, the young woman who oversees the daycare, looks up from some paperwork and smiles my way.
"Hi, Ana. King Max has been asleep for about half an hour or so. Emma Grace has given him and the rest of the smaller kids a run for their money today. Are you heading out?"
"Yeah, I've been with the Diva, and she's exhausted me," I reply as I rub my aching back. "Would you mind calling Caleb to come in here and pick up Max? Tell him I'm ready to go home as well."
Dasha is still laughing over my reference to Kate being a Diva as she picks up the phone and calls Caleb for me.
The only reason that I am headed in this direction is because Caleb is the newest driver and 'close protection officer' that I have. None of the senior security hulks would have allowed this. I roll my eyes whenever I'm told that I still require a CPO. It seems ridiculous that after I became the former wife of he who shall not be named, that Luke and Tom would be insistent that I still needed one. Right after the divorce, and in the midst of the media's orgasm, I did agree that it was a good idea. Being followed every time that I went out in public, along with the paparazzi sitting out on the street of my new home in the hopes of getting a picture of me, was frustrating and pissed me off. I became even more incensed when HE left the country and I was left to feel the full heat of tabloid torture. That left a bitter taste in my mouth for a long time; despite being told that he had left to deal with his issues. At the time, I couldn't have given two flying fucks about his issues. I had enough of my own.
Once my divorce was no longer juicy gossip, I began to protest over what I conceived as over-the top-security. Neither Luke nor Tom would relent on the issue, and it caused numerous fights between the three of us. The fights usually left me behaving like a petulant child and pouting, or like a furious wildcat. During one very intense argument, I went so far as to taking my shoe off and hurling it at Tom's head as he walked away from me. Naturally, I missed my aim, and my stiletto sailed past him and I had to listen to him laugh all the way down the hall. Bastard. I only caved on the issue when Luke reminded me that downgrading the security team would cause many of the men to lose their jobs, and I felt so guilty that I cried. I was once again laughed at. I tend to get my way more now that Tom is the 'boss' since Luke took up the offer of the 'ghost' man, as Kate still calls him. Luke will finally have the job that I learned he had wanted for a very long time. The FBI. Who would have ever guessed? Then again, why would anyone want to watch over my stubborn ass all of the time?
Looking down at the still sleeping Max, I'm asking myself why the fuck I'm doing this, and I cannot even answer my own question. It must be the feeling that a long dead soul has reached up from its grave and grabbed my ankles. That long dead soul is him, and I don't know why he is doing this after so long. It makes no sense and has left me disconcerted. I'm so lost in my confused thoughts that I nearly miss the street sign for Perkins Lane NW. I am very close to a place that I haven't seen since November of 2015 and never wanted to see again. An odd emotion washes over me and my mouth dries. Right before my eyes land on it, I feel one of my daughters kick me, and I wonder if it's an omen. Perhaps- perhaps I should tell Caleb to stop and turn around . . . no, no, no. Something has driven me to do this, and I refuse to be a coward and allow fear to control my decision. I take in my beautiful son before I hesitantly turn and glance at the home that I shared with him.
"Caleb, would you stop here, please?" My voice is hoarse.
He looks at me in the rear view mirror and has a curious expression on his face.
"Yes, ma'am," he replies.
"Caleb, for the millionth time, it's Ana, Ana, Ana."
"I'm sorry, Ana. I keep forgetting."
Barely listening to him, my eyes are roaming all over the house and the property that surrounds it. The house itself looks the same, although there is no longer a security gate at the end of the driveway, and the high sandstone walls are gone. Obviously, the owner isn't a paranoid, multi-billionaire CEO. The owners changed the landscaping as well. Gone is my field of wild flowers that created a beautiful meadow, along with the low hanging trees that hung over the drive way. I immediately understand why. The yard is a child's playground. A swing set, slide, merry-go-round, and a huge wooden pirate ship cover the sprawling yard. And I thought that I had created Max an outdoor haven. Fuck, was I wrong!
Max. I turn and look at my son and realize what has brought me here. Not only did today's event rattle me, it dug up long, buried longings that I had once harbored. A long time ago, I would sit in my wing back chair that was in front of our bedroom window, looking outside and imagining what our children would look like while they played in the yard. I had longed for his child and that longing was always crushed. I always asked him why he denied me the opportunity for a child, but it took a painful lesson to finally get my answer. He never loved me and never wanted to see me carrying his child. Therefore, his strange desire to contribute to Safe Haven, a foundation for runaways, abused and homeless children is a conundrum. I realize that the amount of his donation is probably another one of his twisted games. I shake my head. I've been told that he has changed for the better, and I hope that's the case. However, he certainly cannot have developed any positive attitude toward me, regardless of what I did, or rather didn't do, after we divorced. I wanted to look at this house and see what it looked like with small children running around. I wanted to see if it appeared as I had once imagined it would. Max begins to stir, and I realize that I don't care what this house looks like with a happy family living in it. I have my precious child and my girls are on their way to a happy home. This house on Perkins Lane NW means nothing and only reminds me of a sour past that I have left behind. I refuse - I refuse to allow whatever warped feeling that's led me here grasp me in its filthy hands. I know this feeling is temporary.
It's after ten o'clock at night, and I'm finally in bed with two pillows elevating my swollen feet and praying that my back will stop aching. I'm not sure if I'll be able to make it to my due date in February, which is ironically the day before Kate's. When we found out our due dates, Kate started going on and on about how that could have happened. I dryly told her that we both fucked on the same day. We were the only ones who thought that was hysterical.
After spending an hour attempting to get my little man to go to sleep, I'm barely able to keep my eyes open when my cell phone rings. Looking at the Caller ID, my heart beats a little faster, and I smile to myself. That's until Kate's voice pops in my mind: "Lie of omission, you hate liars, don't be a hypocrite."
Shit.
"Hey, sweetness," I murmur.
"Hi," he says, yawning deeply.
"I miss you."
"I miss you, too. How is my son? Are my precious baby girls jumping up and down on your bladder?"
Rolling onto my side, I place a pillow under my growing belly, inwardly groaning over what I have to tell him.
"Your son is asleep. It took forever to get Max to go to bed. I think the two top hulks around here fed him chocolate; and the twins seem to be asleep too. Why are you up so late? It's way past your bedtime," I tease.
"We just got finished. The entire day was wasted due to idiots and their bullshit. We ended up having to start the fucking shit all over. How are you feeling? I've thought about you all day," he says softly.
The gentleness in his voice makes my heart clench, and I sigh deeply.
"Other than my back killing me and my swollen feet aching, I feel fine. I spent the better part of the day at the office preparing for tomorrow's Board meeting. After that, I just hung out with Kate," I reply, doing my best to sound nonchalant. "But I do have something that I need to tell you."
"That sounds ominous. Is everyone alright?"
Fuck.
"Oh, it's nothing like that! It's about Safe Haven. Please don't stroke out when I tell you."
"That sounds even more ominous. Don't beat around the bush, Ana. Just tell me." His voice is full of exhaustion and exasperation.
"It's not ominous; it's strange. It's beyond strange. Ros Bailey called me this afternoon," I pause, waiting for his response. It surprises me when he doesn't have one so I continue. "She wanted to let me know that GEH wants to make a donation to Safe Haven. She says that the company has a philanthropic committee that chooses outstanding charities to make donations to. One of the charities they chose was Safe Haven. I told her that she needed to speak with Kate since she's in charge of the foundation's finances. Ros was aware of that and said she wanted to let me know first due to the amount GEH is donating." I don't bother hiding my apprehension. I know that he'd see right through me anyway.
He's doesn't say anything for what feels like hours.
"Well, they do have a committee for that kind of shit, but it sure as fuck doesn't make sense. Think about this, Ana. Grey is the one who has the final say when it comes to the charities GEH supports. Ana, he's got an agenda – he doesn't do anything for the hell of it," he replies dryly.
"You don't have to tell me that . . . I'm not finished because this gets even stranger."
He exhales loudly into the phone. "What does that mean?" He asks.
"It's the amount of money they want to donate." I pause. "It's the exact amount of money that I returned to him after our divorce. The exact amount – that amount that starts with a 'B'," I say in a rushed breath.
"Are you fucking kidding me? What in the hell is he up to? No fucking body would do that shit unless they're up to something! Have you seen or spoken to him, Ana?" He yells at me angrily.
Shit. I knew this was going to be a nightmare, but to imply that I have seen or spoken to he who shall not be named really pisses me off. Doesn't he trust me?
"Are you serious? Did you just ask me that? You are goddamn aware that I avoid that bastard at all costs and would never talk to him! Asking if I've seen or talked to him really pisses me the fuck off! But to answer your fucked-up question - the answer is an obvious no!" I reply, lashing out.
"Jesus fucking Christ! I apologize for asking you that – I know better. However, I also know that giving Safe Haven that kind of money isn't Grey simply doing a good deed. The proof of that is because you gave him that money back; along with the fact that YOU are Safe Haven. You started it and you run it. Those two reasons prove a fucking committee didn't make this decision! This has Grey written all over it. He would not be giving Safe Haven the amount of money you threw back at him if he was truly being charitable! I am really trying not to lose it right now. Fuck! I want to know what his ulterior motive is. Why in the fuck is he doing this after so many years? That motherfucker!" He is shouting so loudly that I have to pull the phone away from my ear.
"Hell, I'm perfectly aware of that! I don't understand any of this either! Kate is as blown away as I am, although she thinks that we should accept it. She said that we could have Safe Havens across the country and enough cash left to stay afloat for years. I see her point . . . but I told her we would let the Board make the final decision."
"Jesus," he whispers. "Kate does have a valid point. However, don't you both feel that if you accept the donation, Safe Haven will be in bed with that motherfucker? Grey will get off thinking that you owe him something, Ana! Kate didn't think about that, did she?" He is yelling again.
Why did that bastard have to do this and cause a shit storm in my life?
"No. She agrees it's weird and is suspicious. Kate also thinks that he's changed and that he might be doing this as a way to apologize," I reply softly.
He scoffs. "CHANGED? What is Kate smoking? That is bullshit! Grey apologizing to someone? There's more of a chance that a unicorn flies out of my ass than getting an apology from him, and you fucking know it, Ana!" He shouts. "After five years, GEH suddenly wants to donate to your foundation, and it happens to be the exact amount of cash you played him with? Do not tell me that you are planning on taking that fucking money, Ana!"
He never shouts at me and it's unnerving. I start to cry and do my best to keep him from hearing me. I guess I don't do a good job of it.
"Ana, why are you crying?" He asks in a voice that is still angry; but at least he isn't shouting at me.
I wipe my tears away with the back of my hand in a very un-lady like manner. I take a deep, fortifying breath before answering him.
"You were yelling at me," I whisper.
There's a deep, pregnant pause before he says anything. I can picture his face as he tries to calm himself down.
"Please don't cry, Ana. I'm sorry that I yelled at you . . . it's not you who I'm angry with. But I am furious at Grey, and I am highly concerned that he's up to something."
Sighing, I try to settle my nerves down. I knew this was going to be a disaster. All because of HIM. HE'S a fucking disaster.
"I know that you're anger isn't directed at me, and I agree with you concerning his motive. If the Board thinks that this money could be an enormous help to Safe Haven, then how am I going to be the only member who refuses the contribution? They will know it is probably uncomfortable for me since it's coming from GEH. I also know they're going to think the donation is more important, and I should just suck it up."
"Ana, the annual charity ball bullshit is on New Year's Eve, and that's not even two weeks away. And what do you have to do at that event? You have to give a speech publically thanking the donors. Meaning that you would have to get behind a fucking podium and thank the company that your ex-husband owns! On top of that, Safe Haven will be obliged to invite that fucker! You're over seven months pregnant, Ana! Do you think being upset all night is good for you or the twins? You've been in knots at every past event when you knew that fucker was there! Do you really want to stand before a crowd of three-hundred people and gush how grateful Safe Haven is to GEH? Every person in the room will be looking from you to Grey! Imagine the field day the press and tabloids will have with that! They'll use that bullshit and say that it must mean the two of you are reconciling!" He says, raising his voice once again.
Whoa…wait a damn minute.
"Is that what this is really about? I ask.
"Is what about? What are you asking?"
"I'm asking if you're so angry over the money or imagining this is his way to get back in my life. Are you thinking that we would get back together?" I breathe.
Silence. A very long period of silence passes by. Our unspoken communication is blaringly loud through my phone.
"No. No, it's not, Ana. I'm many things, but insecure isn't one of them. You're carrying my children and I've adopted Max. You are my family, and you would be my wife, if you weren't so stubborn. . . I'm not jealous and I don't think you'd go back to that fucker. Ana, I know you aren't a fucking idiot, and Grey would step into our family over my dead body. This is about Grey being a fly over a pile of shit. . ."
I giggle. "Are you saying that Safe Haven is a pile of shit?"
Thank God. I get a laugh out of him. "No, baby. I was just making a point."
"No one will know if the Board does accept the donation. Ros Bailey wants it to remain anonymous."
"So you wouldn't have to mention that sick fuck?" He asks.
"No. But their charity committee would be invited and that would include him as well," I whisper.
"Which means security will have to surround you like human barriers! Is that how you want to spend your evening? You love those charity balls! Fuck, Ana! Why are you willing to offer yourself to Grey so he can slaughter you?"
I am getting pissed off. Seriously pissed off. It's one thing to be angry over he who shall not be named making an unwelcome visit in my life. Getting crazy and making assumptions about fucked-up shit is another ball of wax.
"Okay, now you've pissed me off. I'm not willing to allow anyone to slaughter me! I have complete fucking control of myself, and this shit isn't about me in the first place. It's about having safe places for abused children! This is also about homeless and runaway kids having a warm place to stay! If we can get a goddamn ridiculous amount of money for the ability to provide this help this across the country, then the Board will probably accept it! I don't give a shit about him! I have to look at his face in the papers, magazines, the fucking television, and at pictures whenever I go to Carrick and Grace's. Yes, I've had security make sure we're nowhere near one another at bullshit functions. He's done what he promised Kate that he would do and that's to leave me alone. FYI, that's what he's done! She says he has changed, and that may or may not be the truth, although I don't care. If Ros Bailey wants to write Safe Haven a check that has a ton of zeroes on it, then what in the hell is the matter with that? Think about it – what's worse - me being uncomfortable for a few hours or kids who need someone to give a shit and help them?"
"I get it, Ana. I really get it. I just don't like the idea or the unease it makes me feel. I don't like him, and I don't trust him. Period." He sighs deeply.
"And you think that I do?" I ask, incredulously. "Listen, I'm tired, and I know it's very late there. Let's just drop this until the Board meets tomorrow evening."
He exhales a long breath.
"Yeah . . . I'm exhausted, and I know you need your rest, baby. I do apologize for getting angry and shouting at you. Do you forgive me?"
I smile at his soft and genuine voice. He truly is perfect and holds my heart in his hands. I still haven't figured out how I got so lucky, but I've learned to stop wondering how he can love me so much and just accept that love. He didn't have to take on the responsibility of Max, but he did, and he did so because he loved him. Because he loves the both of us.
"Stop it, silly. There's nothing to forgive, and you're too hot for me to never forgive you or kick you to the curb. Women would be all over you in minutes," I reply, giggling.
He laughs loudly. "Whatever," he says. "But go to sleep, baby. Let me know how tomorrow goes, okay? Don't forget that I love you, Ana."
"I love you, too. Max and your girls love you, too."
"Night, baby."
"Don't let the bed bugs bite," I say, ending the call.
I'm unable to get comfortable, and it's keeping me from falling asleep. Being pregnant is the most horrible experience I have endured, and how my ex-hussy, best friend has gone through it so many times amazes me. Kate, Angela, and Grace have all told me that I'm so miserable because I'm carrying twins. Twins. Identical twin girls. How in the hell did I end up pregnant with twins? There isn't a set of twins in either family. It figures that I would be the anomaly. As time on the clock continues to pass me by, I cannot help my mind drifting off to places that it shouldn't, and most end up with he who shall not be named. I don't understand why he's done this. Shit. I hope that sick fuck doesn't expect me to call and thank him. That's a thought I don't want in my head.
Great.
Push him away, Ana. Push him away.
Finally, my eyelids get heavy, but I refuse to fall asleep with negative memories on my mind. I let myself fall into the rabbit hole of sleep with a happy memory that is ingrained in my heart.
We lay there together, my head on his chest while he plays with my hair. I'm exhausted and replete with our post-coital bliss, and I know that now is the time to tell him. I've waited a week as I tried to work the courage up to finally tell him, all the while being threatened by Kate, who said that if I kept putting it off that she would tell him. I know that my knees would be buckling if I were standing up. Butterflies fill my stomach, and every time that I open my mouth to spit out the words, it automatically shuts. Perhaps I could just write him a letter. Oh, Ana. What's wrong with you? Yes, after a mere two months, this is still new and fresh – But I know that he will take this well. So why am I so afraid to tell him? Maybe it's because Max isn't quite two, and I'm afraid that this will run him off. God knows that it would have many men running out the back door. But not him – I fucking hope not anyway. Sighing, I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling of the suite we are staying in at The Fairmont Hotel. Dad and Angela agreed to watch my little man for the weekend so that we could have some much needed 'grown up fun' as Angela put it. I'm unconsciously balling up the sheet and wondering why my Depo shot failed. I feel him staring at me. Oh, fuck me running. He can always see right through me, and he knows that something is wrong. I know that if he asks if something is bothering me that I'll have to be honest. Oh, fuck me running further. It's do or die time, and I'm petrified.
"Is something the matter, Ana?" He pushes some wavy locks off my sweaty forehead.
Turning toward him, the sheet slips down and exposes my breasts, and he smiles at me salaciously. I raise an eyebrow at him. "Don't even think about it. I'm so sore that I can barely walk."
That makes the ass grin even wider. I look at him with a serious expression, and his grin disappears. I want to throw up.
"I have something to tell you," I say tentatively.
He faces me, his elbow bent, and head resting on his hand.
"You know that you can tell me anything, Ana. I don't like the sound of your voice. I hear trepidation in it, and I don't ever want you to feel like you can't be honest with me. You don't have to be afraid of me or how I might react to something. Just tell me what's on your mind."
His words are so heartfelt and tender that I almost jump back on top of him instead of having this conversation. However, I restrain my lust.
"Shall I just blurt it out?"
He snickers at me. "Yeah, just rip the band-aid off."
I take a deep breath and release it slowly. I never take my eyes off his.
"I'm pregnant," I breathe and watch different emotions pass through his eyes.
He's quiet and lays there still as a stone for what feels like hours.
"Pregnant? You're pregnant?"
I nod in response, and I'm very grateful that the corners of his lips are beginning to curl up into a smile.
"Are you sure? What about your shot? He asks.
"It appears that it failed."
"Are you sure?" He asks once more.
"Yes, I'm sure. I took five home pregnancy tests and they were all positive. I made an appointment to see Kate's OB last Friday."
Now he's scowling at me.
"Last Friday? How long have you known?"
Shit.
"Umm. . .I took the tests last Wednesday. I'm sorry that I haven't told you. . ."
"Hold up. Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He demands.
"I was afraid."
"What were you afraid of? I certainly hope you aren't afraid of me."
Feeling embarrassed, I avert my eyes.
"I'm not afraid of you in the sense that you'd hurt me. I was just afraid of what your reaction would be. Whatever this is between us has only been going on for two months now, and I'm not even sure what this is or where I stand. I'm not sure how you feel about me, I try to never misinterpret any of your smiles, and I always camouflage my feelings. I guess that I'm afraid of you ever knowing how I feel or that I find out you don't feel the same," I whisper.
He gazes at me, his expression completely perplexed.
"Whatever this is between us? You don't know where you stand with me? I admit that I've held back and not told you how I feel – Ana, how could you not know where you stand with me? And what's with this 'whatever this is between us' shit? I feel that there's a whole hell of a lot between us. Jesus Christ. You just told me that you're carrying my child, and you've made me the happiest man alive."
I must be gaping at him when he pulls me to him and places a hand on my flat stomach.
"You're so goddamn beautiful," he whispers. "Ana, I love you. No, I'm in love with you. I'm not just saying this because I've found out that your pregnant with my child either. I know that I haven't come out and said it, and I admit that's because I was afraid of what you'd say. But I love you in ways that I have never loved anyone and that scares the fucking hell out of me."
I'm crying and tears are blinding me. He starts wiping them off my cheeks.
"I feel the same way. I'm in love with you, and while the idea of being pregnant scares the shit out of me, I'm so very happy that I'm having your baby. Whether this child is a boy or a girl, I know that this baby will be as perfect as you," I choke on my words.
He leans his forehead against mine.
"I guess we should have had this discussion already."
A soft laugh escapes my throat.
"Yeah, that would have probably been a good idea. Will you tell me something?"
"Yes," he mouths.
"When did you know?" I ask.
"That I loved you?"
"Yeah."
He pulls away from me and looks me in the eyes.
"I knew that I did from the first moment that we met. It was . . . not love at first sight exactly – it was more like familiarity. I felt like, 'Oh, hello . . . there you are and I've been waiting for you.' Ana, it will always be you."
The only pair of eyes that are looking at me are Dr. Swann's, who serves the foundation as it's supervising therapist. Everyone else is looking everywhere but me, and the room has grown silent. Even Grace doesn't seem to know how to react or what to say. I keep my eyes on Max who is on the floor playing with blocks. I didn't feel like asking his usual babysitter to watch him, and his presence always calms me. Katherine waited to address the issue of GEH and their staggering donation until she went through the list of other donors. It feels as if a century goes by before Kate continues in her direct and blunt manner.
"I can see how uncomfortable this possible donation makes each of you, and I understand why. If it eases your anxiety, I assure you that I have discussed the situation with Ana, and she wants the Board to make the decision. Personally, I believe that such an extraordinary contribution to our foundation would be a Godsend. Receiving such an enormous donation, along with the contributions from other donors, will allow us to do unbelievably positive things. Our treasury could last a very long time," she says in a strong and confident voice.
Well, now every mother-fucking eye is on me. Jesus, I would like to kill he who shall not be named.
"Ana, how do feel about accepting a donation from the company that is owned by your former husband?" Dr. Swann asks. She has an eyebrow raised as she stares at me. If we weren't in a room full of people, I would remind her that I haven't needed her services in more than two years.
I clear my throat, square my shoulders, and glance around the room.
"I agree with Kate. Receiving such a substantial donation would last a very long time and allow us to venture across the country. In my opinion, we would be fools not to accept it. I believe that it's irrelevant where the donation comes from."
"Is Ana's word enough for each of you to accept GEH's donation?" Kate asks, looking at each of the Board members. "I would also like to point out that this isn't about Ana's personal life. This is about the business of our foundation, and while this might sound callous, the Board shouldn't take the personal feelings of a fellow member into account. Does anyone disagree or have anything to say about this?"
Grace is gazing at me with a bittersweet smile. I watch her eyes move down to my little man, and she gazes at him with utter devotion.
"I'd like to say something, Katherine," Grace says. "Before each of us cast a vote over GEH's donation, please take a look at this precious child playing in the floor. Everyone in this room is aware that he was abandoned and would probably be in the foster system if it weren't for Safe Haven. Ana took one glance at this child and immediately began the process to become his foster parent in order to adopt him. I'm not trying to guilt anyone into voting one way or another – I just want you to consider other children like Max and the help that we can provide them."
Long before Grace was finished speaking, many of the Board members have tears in their eyes. I will never forget the day that Grace called me from the hospital and asked if I had time to head over there. Upon arriving, a nurse told me that Grace was in the nursery and I found her rocking a tiny baby with a full head of blonde curls. Even before Grace told me this infant's story, I took one look at him and fell in love. I immediately felt like Max's mother when Grace placed him in my arms, and I rocked him for hours. Once Max's hypothermia was treated and he was to be placed into the foster care system, Grace came up with medical reasons that allowed him to remain in the hospital until Carrick helped me complete the necessary requirements to become a foster parent. I wanted to pay for all of Max's hospital expenses, but Grace and Carrick advised me that it would appear more appropriate if Safe Haven paid them. I became his foster mother in a couple of weeks, and with a little help from Carrick, I adopted him six months later. The funny part is that Max shares Elliot's blonde curls and blue eyes, and Kate always jokes that Elliot and I had an affair and that Max is Elliot's love child. I kid Elliot and tell him he's too ugly to be the father of my beautiful baby boy.
"Dr. Trevelyan, we understand that Ana's son is a prime example of what Safe Haven is about, and that's why each of us is involved with the foundation. It's my pride in this foundation that causes me concern over the backlash it could receive if we accept this donation," Trina McCabe says. This bottle blonde is on her fourth husband – she married and divorced based upon each man's bank balance. She's only on the committee because her latest and very rich husband made a sizeable contribution when I was getting Safe Haven off the ground.
"What kind of backlash are you referring to, Daphne?" Kate snaps.
Mrs. McCabe runs a perfectly manicured finger through her hair and does her best to stare Kate down.
Big mistake.
"Excuse me for saying this, Ana. I mean no disrespect. I am bluntly stating what I am sure others are thinking. Imagine the negative press over Safe Haven accepting a contribution from GEH, which is the company of Ana's former husband. We also have to consider how Mr. Grey's presence at the charity ball will start tongues to wag. The media and horrible tabloids will turn this into something salacious concerning Ana and Mr. Grey. The good work of Safe Haven will go unnoticed by the media because the press will spend days speculating on the status of Ana and Mr. Grey's relationship. Isn't that enough of a reason to decline this money? Think about having Safe Haven's name dragged through the mud because of Ana and Mr. Grey's former marriage."
The audacity of this woman has just dropped the temperature in the room to below freezing. Kate's face is flushed with anger, and she is bending her pen so hard it looks like it's about to snap in half. The rest of the women, minus Dr. Swann, are all wide-eyed and gaping as they wait to see who jumps the table and slams Daphne McCabe's face on it. I sneak a glance at Grace, who is shaking from outrage. It's my responsibility to put Daphne McCabe in her place, and I am so glad that I've finally been given the opportunity to do so. I push my heavily pregnant ass from my chair using the arm rests and lean over the table – well, as close to the table that my enormous bump will allow. I narrow my eyes at this bitch and point my finger at her.
"Who started Safe Haven?" I bark at her.
She has the nerve to scoff at me. "You did, Ana. But not without the aid of some influential backers. . ."
"Yeah, yeah. Your husband, who wasn't your husband at the time, donated fifty grand to help start up Safe Haven. The only reason your botoxed ass is sitting here is because your husband is a decent man and I like him. Let me remind you of something, Mrs. McCabe. Mrs. Grey informed the committee that this donation would be anonymous, and no one, including the press, would be aware of it. The media never gets wind of an anonymous donor, and you are aware that we've had several. And yes, you did mean to disrespect me, and I'd go so far as to say that you're jealous that I haven't needed to sponge off wealthy men in order to take care of myself." My voice is growing louder, and Mrs. McCabe's eyes are growing wider. "For you to dare mention anything about my former marriage and insinuate that it will bring ramifications to this charity is beyond the pale. This foundation and our Board meetings are for the good of children, not a place of gossip or stupidity to imply anything concerning my non-existent relationship with my former husband. How dare you insult Dr. Trevelyan by saying such things about her son!"
"I never meant to insult Dr. Trevelyan," she huffs.
"I won't bother reminding you who the President of this foundation is. That said I accept your resignation from the Board of this committee effective immediately. Please gather your belongings and leave," I say through gritted teeth.
"I have never . . . "
"Mrs. McCabe, I believe that Ana just told you to leave," Kate bites. Her face is blood red.
The bitch makes her way to the door and turns around to try to get in one last dig.
"Just wait until my husband hears about this!"
Grace looks at her blandly. "Just wait until your husband finds out that you're having an affair with the COO of Harborview," she softly says.
That bit of information has everyone's jaw on the floor, but it's Dr. Swann who is laughing aloud. I take that to mean that she already knew.
After a unanimous vote to accept GEH's contribution, we muddle through a few other insignificant details, and the other Board members leave. Only Grace, Kate, and I remain in the office. My Elliot look-a-like is asleep in my arms, and it's only seven o'clock. I resign myself that it will be another battle of wills to get Max to sleep tonight. Looking at Grace and Kate, I sigh, knowing that I have to address the elephant in the room. Grace appears as if she's about to cry and I can tell that Kate is fighting her anger so that her mother-in-law doesn't notice.
"Grace, don't tell him that he isn't welcome at the charity gala. It's wrong on so many levels, and I promise that it won't bother me," I say.
Grace and Kate look at me at the same time. Kate slightly narrows her eyes at me, and I cannot miss the displeasure in her emerald green eyes. Grace's face is full of sympathy and if it's directed at me, I'm going to get angry. I do not tolerate sympathy nor do I need any.
"My darling, Ana. This annual charity ball is for Safe Haven, and I know how much you look forward to it every year. I will be in knots worrying about you the entire night. I don't want you to be uncomfortable because Christian is in the same proximity as you. Ana, you are in the advanced stages of your pregnancy and carrying twins. Twins are almost always born before their due date, and I don't want you so stressed that you could possibly go into labor. . ."
I raise my hand and smile at her. "Grace, stop it. This isn't going to send me into premature labor. I'm honestly fine with it and he deserves to be there; along with anyone involved with GEH's donation. For me to accept his money, and then say he's not welcome at the charity ball would be selfish and childish. You know that there have been several functions that we've both attended, and I came out unscathed. Please, don't be concerned about this, and don't work yourself into a panic over my pregnancy," I say laughing. "He deserves to be there, he's welcome there, and no one will make him feel unwanted. He's been very kind to Safe Haven, and we cannot overlook that."
Kate rubs Grace's shoulder. "Don't feel that you're responsible to keep them apart at the gala, Grace. There isn't a 'them' anymore, and there hasn't been for a long time. Ana is okay with this, I swear. You know that if she weren't, there wouldn't be a chance that I'd allow it to happen. I'm with Ana when she says don't be concerned about this, and please don't mention it to Christian. It will offend him, and we will look horribly ungrateful. Just trust everyone involved. You never know, Grace. He might not be interested in attending."
I laugh, even though I dread the idea of even catching a glimpse of him.
"Yeah, let Mia worry how many representatives of GEH will be attending. She's the exuberant party planner and is in charge of everything, including the number of tables she needs, along with the table settings," I tease her.
Kate looks at me knowingly and offers me a small smile.
Fuck.
Ever since I told him that the Board voted to accept GEH's contribution, he has been eerily calm and hasn't brought it up. I don't like, nor do I trust, silence and it's kept me in an emotional upheaval. I'm sure pregnancy hormones are probably a contributing factor. I know that there's nothing that I can do to change another's mind, and I haven't bothered trying. I do understand his point, and I also understand Kate's mounting anger. She started second-guessing her decision the day after the Board met, and she is allowing it to get to her. Despite my telling her she isn't looking at the bigger picture, Kate has allowed her feelings to keep her from two Sunday dinners, although she made it through Christmas with he who shall not be named and the woman who is apparently his girlfriend. Kate even swallowed her pride and thanked him for the contribution, but only because I threatened her life if she didn't.
After returning from Christmas at the Grey's, Kate lost complete control of her emotions, her emotions over me. It was around eight at night, and Max was asleep beside me in bed as I read East of Eden. Ray and Angela had returned to the addition of the house that I had built for them. I was already in a bad mood over an earlier phone call that resulted in me hanging up on him because he finally snapped over HIS money. The second I ended the call, I was guilt-ridden and he wouldn't answer when I called him back.
Ho, fucking, Ho. Some fucking Christmas this turned out to be.
So when the phone rang, I jumped and grabbed it in the hopes that it was him. It was Kate.
"Her goddamn name is Rose, Ana! It's fucking Rose!" Kate shrieks through the phone.
Huh?
"Okay . . . you're as pregnant as I am so you aren't drunk. I can only assume that Elliot has finally driven you insane," I tease.
It is only then I can tell that Kate is sobbing. Not wah-wahing. Not crying. But sobbing.
"No, Ana! You don't fucking understand what I've been through tonight! You don't know what I had to endure or how it's made me feel, god damn you!"
"Katherine! What is wrong? What in the hell has happened?"
"I have just spent hours celebrating fucking Christmas at Carrick and Grace's. I had to sit across the table from HIS girlfriend! I sat in the seat where I've been sitting for years and had to look at another woman sitting in the seat where you always sat! There she was, across the table from me! Her, Ana! This Rose bitch and all of her intelligent, attorney glory!" Kate yells, hiccupping with every word. "Everyone wants her to be there for HIM, although we all wish it were you, Ana! I don't want to listen to her drone on about legal bullshit! I want to hear my best friend discussing the latest manuscript she's read. . ."
At this point, I'm crying and wobble to the bathroom so I don't wake up Max.
"Kate, please stop saying this shit! I love you and I'm sorry that you feel like this, but I cannot take listening to it!" I reply sobbing. "Why in the hell are you feeling like this? What has brought this on? I haven't sat at that table for Christmas dinner in years!"
"I love you too, and that's why I don't think that I can do this. I know that you have been gone for a long time now, but until now, I've always had to sit and stare at your empty chair. Now there is some polite and boring redhead sitting there as if she belongs there! I can't say anything because I don't want to piss anyone off or upset anyone! However, I couldn't stand you not being with us tonight! I managed to get through it when there wasn't another woman around taking your place. And now there is a woman who's being given gifts and a fucking stocking, and I just can't take it!"
Before I have a chance to reply, Elliot has taken the phone from Kate, although I can still hear her sobbing loudly.
"Ana?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah, Elliot."
"I'm not sure what to say."
"Why do you say that? You don't have to say anything. Kate is probably hormonal and some little thing set her off. It's fine."
"No . . . that isn't what's wrong with Kate, and explain why you're crying if it's fine."
"Well, what's the matter with her, Elliot? I was crying because she is so upset," I reply.
"What has Kate so upset is the same thing that has our entire family torn up, Ana," he tells me. "She spoke the truth. We are happy for Christian - sorry that I said his name. I know you don't like to hear it. What Kate said is true. We want him to be happy and move on with his life . . . we just wish this woman could be you."
Elliot has just thrust a sword in my heart as I think about his family. Why is he saying this? Is this what they really think? Haven't they paid attention to the past five plus years?
"Elliot, you cannot say that. He's your brother and his happiness is paramount to your entire family. It has been too long and I have my own family. You have to leave me out of the equation."
"We did leave you out of the equation until we were faced with this! This is the first time in over five years that our family has had to deal with something like this. Put yourself in our shoes for a minute and tell me how you would feel. We have accepted your not being around, and we've all had to sit back and watch our relationships with you evolve into ones that we don't particularly like. Shit, Ana! It broke mom's heart when the weekly lunches she had with you, Mia and Kate became lunch with just Mia and Kate. You're like mom's phantom limb, Ana!" Elliot has now started crying. "Yeah, you're still around the periphery of the family, but you shouldn't be! Everyone expected our relationships to change, and they have in ways that we have all enjoyed – endured, rather! I support and love my brother, and I want him happy. But not with another woman, Ana. I want him to be happy with YOU, and if you only knew the t . . ."
What in the fuck is going on? Why is he telling me this shit? I've got enough of my own shit and if it wasn't for little Max, this Christmas would be complete shit.
"Elliot! Shut the fuck up! I won't listen to another word about him. I refuse to. He's your brother, and he always will be. He is your priority, Elliot. I fucking miss every one of you, and knowing that you're no longer my in-laws still guts me! However, I cannot listen to you or anyone else talk about your brother. He's my past, and I'm his past. What happened back then was heart-wrenching and taught me a great deal. Elliot, I'm here for every member of your family just as I always have been. The only difference is that I'm no longer at holiday celebrations or Sunday dinners. That all ended years ago, and no one took that harder than I did. It's killing me to hear what you're saying, and I'm so sorry that you feel this way. Elliot, I'm the godmother to one of your daughters. You named another of your daughters after me, for Christ's sake! I am still a part of your life, but I can't help that I'm no longer a Grey. The only reason that you and Kate are feeling this way is because this is new and different, and has changed your family dynamic. I'm so sorry that tonight has you both in shambles, but you will get past this as time goes on. You have to, Elliot. Not only for yourself, but your brother as well."
"Ana, hear me out. My brother has changed, and there are things that you should. . ."
Elliot's words come at the very moment that I have a strong Braxton Hicks contraction and one of the twins kicks the fuck out of me. This phone call has upset me and is now manifesting itself physically. I have no idea what my former brother-in-law is trying to accomplish by saying any of this, and I can't help feeling that he's trying to make me feel guilty. The way that the Grey's feel cuts me in half, but I don't understand why this topic is being thrown in my face more than five years later. He who shall not be named has changed . . . as if I care. Maybe he has, even though it's none of my fucking business. So he's lost his compulsion to beat the shit out of little brown-haired women; how does that affect me? It doesn't. He slammed a concrete wall between us when he admitted that he never loved me. I forgave him, gave him a free pass, and untied the noose I had around his neck. I freely handed him Grey Publishing; even though I still wish that I were sitting at a desk somewhere reading manuscripts. His fucked-up life even ruined that for me because the thought of being an editor made me think about him. My mind was left skewed, my heart was in tatters, and I felt useless and used. Elliot might hope that someone could ask me if I miss the taste of his brother's peppermint fucking gum and that my cheeks may pale for a moment – but they wouldn't. I don't even remember if his brother chewed gum, and if I did, I would take a knife and cut that memory from my brain. I've moved on. I have my own family that makes me deliriously happy. I am loved the way that I deserve to be loved. However, I cannot help if it's too hard for Kate to sit and look at another woman with her piece of shit brother-in-law. It breaks my heart that it hurts her, although I cannot change it – and I wouldn't if I could. Thinking about and understanding why Kate feels the way she does causes me to ponder Elliot's reaction. The suspicion it uncovers shakes me up and leaves me nauseous.
Please say this isn't so.
"You think that I should forgive him," I whisper.
Elliot doesn't respond.
"Oh, my God! I'm right, aren't I? That's what this is all about. You have overreacted this way because you believe that I should forgive him. Let me hear you deny it, Elliot."
I feel like I've been stabbed in the back. They all believed that I should have just forgiven his so-called affair and stayed married to him. Even though they've never known the reality of my joke of a marriage, they still witnessed the aftermath of his carnage, and they still felt like I should have stayed. This new woman has kicked dirt in all of their faces and has them realizing that's never going to occur. It has taken over five years for them to realize this . . . how is this even possible? An unpalatable thought enters my mind; if they know about his BDSM lifestyle, are they aware that's why our marriage ended? Is that question to insane to ask? Would they have kept that from me?
"Ana, I didn't say that," Elliot replies.
"You also haven't denied it. Did you feel that I should have forgiven your brother? It's a yes or no question, Elliot."
"I thought a lot of things, Ana. I also knew that it wasn't my place to say anything, so I didn't."
"But you're saying something now. Yes or no, Elliot," I demand.
He sighs deeply, and I have my answer. I place a hand over my face.
"Do you know why I divorced your brother?"
"Of course I do."
"Tell me the reason."
"He cheated. He fucking cheated on you, Ana," Elliot says, raising his voice.
I can hear it loud and clear. His voice is telling me the truth, and it is ringing like bells in a cathedral.
He does know.
"You know the truth," I breathe.
"Yes. Yes, I know everything." Elliot sounds so ashamed.
"Who else knows?"
"Mom and dad. Mia thinks that he just had an affair. I've never asked Kate if she knew because I know better."
Yeah, Kate knows a whole hell of a lot more than you think she does.
"He admitted to everything?"
"Yes," he says quietly. "It was part of his therapy, Ana."
"Then how many were there and when did it begin?"
Elliot groans. "Jesus, Ana!" He pauses before continuing. "He fucking did it the entire time you were married, and there were five of them."
I'm not sure if I want to puke because Elliot and his parents have known the truth or because they didn't tell me. He who shall not be named betrayed me, and now I feel as the Grey's have betrayed me as well. Maybe feeling like this is irrational. Maybe these wild thoughts and feelings are because HE has pushed himself in front of my face front and center. Perhaps he asked them not to discuss anything concerning his therapy with me or anyone else. That makes sense . . . he doesn't give a shit about what I think, or me and the feelings are mutual. I tell myself that theory makes more sense, and I run with it.
Wait a minute . . . I'll kill her.
"Is Kate aware of any of this?"
"God, no! Nobody mentions anything about him to Kate!" Elliot exclaims.
Relieved, I sigh deeply. This has been too much drama and too much information about HIM. I've got to end this and end it now.
"I have to hang up, Elliot. I've had three Braxton Hicks just talking about this old news. I don't want to hear another word about it. I'm sorry about the way any of you feel, but it's just not my problem. That sounds terrible and probably makes me a bitch, but it's the truth. Perhaps your brother needs you and to tell you the truth, helping him will probably help you feel better. I'm going to go rest. I love you and I love Kate. Please remind her of that and go take care of your wife. I'll see you soon."
Merry fucking Christmas.
Mia informed me that he who shall not be named would indeed attend the charity ball and that the GEH employees would require three tables. Mia tentatively shared that he didn't RSVP with a plus one and when she asked him why he wasn't bringing the new girlfriend, he only glared at her. The fact that she mentioned this to me irritated me until I remembered that I was dealing with Mia Grey. Mia being Mia let the week leading up to the charity gala pass in a ball of mania and drove everyone involved insane. On the afternoon of the event, she called Kate in hysterics over an ice sculpture, and Kate promptly hung up on her. The annual charity ball is held on New Year's Eve. When Kate initially suggested that date, I laughed and told her we would be ruining New Year's Eve for many people and that most would not attend. She called them pretentious fucks and said they would attend because they would want their names associated with the foundation. It turned out that my clever friend was correct.
This year's event is being held at the new home of Kate's parents on Lake Washington. However, it should be called a palace instead of a home. Mrs. Kavanagh presented her son-in-law with her vision of this home and he nearly fell out of his chair. It took two years to complete and is the most ostentatious monster I have ever seen. Even Kate shook her head when Elliot showed her the blue prints. One good thing about the Kavanagh palace is that Kate's over-the-top mother insisted on having a ballroom. I am sure the only ballroom that could rival this one would be at Versailles. Its floor is ridiculous marble from somewhere in Europe and the room's walls are glass that overlooks the lake. The first time Kate took me in the ballroom she stood at one end of the room and I stood on the opposite end. We had to yell in order to hear each other. It is the ideal location for our charity ball. Kate's mother was over the moon when we presented the idea to her since it would be the first function held there, and she was gloriously excited to show it off to Seattle's elite. Kate and I hated ourselves for not bringing a Valium when we brought Mia, the hyperactive party planner to see it for the first time.
"Are you seriously going to wear those shoes?" I ask Kate, looking incredulously at the green Alexander McQueen stilettos she's holding in her hand.
"I'm going to look good regardless of the fact that I'm as fat as a whale," she replies. "Now get on the bed so I can lay my cankles on your lap, and you can strap on these bad boys."
I giggle as we struggle to find a position that I can get in to strap her heels. Kate eventually has to lie on the bed and raise her leg up to my face since I can't get my belly out of the way.
"Ana Banana, do you think these earrings are too much?" She asks while she puts in a pair of gorgeous dangling emerald earrings. "I want to wear them since they were a Christmas gift from Elliot, but I don't want to appear too lurid."
Now that remark has me rolling with laughter. Kate scowls at me.
"You don't want to appear too lurid? That's fucking hilarious! You're seven plus months pregnant and wearing a dress that's skin tight with a V-neck so far down I'm surprised it doesn't expose your flattened bellybutton, and it's got an open back for God's sake. Don't get me wrong, you look stunning as usual, but to say that you don't want to appear too lurid is funny."
Her scowl remains, although she's fighting not to smile. "This is a damn Givenchy, and the personal shopper at Harrods said a pregnant woman doesn't have to hide her bump if she doesn't want to, thank you very much," she replies.
"Kate, I know that. I was there remember? Now stop pretending that you don't know you look amazing, and slide my feet into these shoes."
"I cannot believe that you bought ballet slippers. No, I take that back. I can believe you bought ballet slippers," she snorts. "I take consolation knowing that their Manolo Blahniks."
"Fuck you and your consolation, and let's figure out a way to roll off this bed without killing ourselves."
Once we've managed to pull each other off the bed, we head to a large mirror in one of the guest bedrooms. We decided to head to Kate's parents earlier in the afternoon to avoid the annoying media presence that is always stationed outside the gala's venue. We appreciate the coverage they give Safe Haven, but everyone involved with the foundation is afraid the press will see he who shall not be named arriving, and when I enter, they will start screaming questions as to why he is in attendance. Kate doubts that would have happened since we would have arrived first and he is always fashionably late, although I wasn't in the mood to chance it. It was bad enough imagining a run in with the bastard, and I do not relish making my speech knowing he is in the audience. Maybe his dislike of me will cause him to leave the ballroom when I approach the podium.
"Can you believe that I'm going to be fucking thirty-years-old in three weeks? I'm already Mother Goose, and now I'm about to hit thirty," Kate says, blotting her very red lipstick.
"Getting older beats the alternative," I mumble, pushing a pair of sapphire studs into my ears. "I'm glad you told me to wear my hair up."
"Well, if you'd have left your massive head of hair down no one would have seen how hot your strapless dress is. Shit, you're ragging on my dress when yours is strapless!"
We smile at each other in the mirror. "Yep, my dress is strapless, but it isn't skin tight," I tease her. "Seriously, do I look alright?
Kate raises an eyebrow. "Are you hoping to impress someone, Ana?" she asks suspiciously.
"I would be trying to impress someone if he was here!" I exclaim.
"Ana. . ."
I place a finger close to Kate's mouth. "Don't think that bullshit and don't even say it."
"You're right. Let's just forget about douche-bag and enjoy the night. I'm glad that you went with that Marchesa gown. You look beyond beautiful and that midnight blue makes your blue eyes sparkle."
We appraise one another in the mirror and double check our make-up. Kate is a vision in a body-hugging gown that is the exact color of her eyes, and I am dressed in a fishtail gown made of satin. Kate does a dramatic spin and nearly topples over in her stilettos.
"You're so going to fall down when the weight of your belly causes those freaking shoes to fly out from under you," I snigger.
She sticks her tongue out at me, and we grab our clutches and open the bedroom door. Kate stops with a pout on her face.
"I wish you were sitting at our table, Ana."
I give her a gentle shove to get her moving. "I know and I wish these two girls of mine would stop digging their way under my ribs. Let's go. We've got to get these two speeches over with, and then the bullshit can begin."
It is with a deep gulp of air that I follow Kate downstairs and pray that I am not walking into the lion's den.
Kate is wrapping up her speech, and I am sitting at my table glaring at Tom. The asshole that is too good looking for his own damn good has positioned himself by one of the exits and has watched every move that I've made. Once it became official that the fucker would be attending, Tom decided to bring the National Guard to the gala. I haven't glanced around much since I am afraid that I will see him; but I have seen five of my unwarranted security hulks. Caleb is the only one who doesn't look constipated. I just don't get these fucks or how their minds work. I told Tom that the fucker was not the damn Godfather and that he should chill out, but Mr. Hot Stuff ignored me and walked away. I would have already kicked him into Lake Sammamish if I didn't adore him so much. I'm so deep in my own head that it takes Dr. Swann kicking me under the table to make me realize that Katherine just introduced me and that it is show time.
Yay!
Not.
I manage to gracefully walk to the stage and wait as Elliot helps Kate down the stairs. She pinches my arm when I roll my eyes at her. Kate knows I am thinking about those stupid stilettos she's wearing. The dapper Elliot Grey helps my fat ass up the stairs once Moby Dick is safely waddling back to the table where the Grey family is in situ.
I am uncomfortably aware that all eyes are on me as I stand behind the podium. I silently thank that Mrs. Kavanagh had subtle spotlights installed in this massive room and that one is directed at me. I know its purpose is to highlight me and that is enough to make me want to puke, but at least the light in my face is concealing the faces of the audience. Someone may or may not be looking at me, but I sure as hell don't want to have to look at them. I decide to carry on as I have at the previous balls and remember why I am standing here. I look around at an audience that I can't actually see and offer a genuine smile.
"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome to the annual ball for the Safe Haven Foundation. Thank you. . ."
I would not have made it through the past three hours if it were not for a pair of ballet slippers. I stood on swollen sausage toes for my fifteen-minute speech, and then had to make the rounds of ass kissing for God knows how long. Eventually, I said fuck this and returned to my table. I decided that if anyone wanted to say hello to me that I would hold court in my seat. My idea was perfect, and patrons approached me with bullshit chit chat, which thoroughly pissed me off because I hadn't thought of sitting down earlier. Sitting down was also preferable since I didn't have a gang of idiots following me as I walked the ballroom greeting people. As midnight slowly approaches, one of the twins decides to bounce on my bladder as if it's a trampoline, causing me to haul myself from my chair and head to the ladies room. I'm silently praying that I remember where the nearest ladies room is. Unfortunately, I have to pass by the Grey's on my mission to keep from pissing myself, and I have to hug each of them while I cross my legs. Mia starts to ask me if I like how she decorated the ballroom, but I have to abruptly interrupt her and make a mad dash down an unfamiliar hallway. I quickly sense the presence of a hulking goon behind me.
Luckily, the ladies room isn't that far from the ballroom, and across the hall is an enormous glass window that faces the lawn where the fireworks display has been set up. Locking the door behind me, I nearly tear my gown as I hurriedly pull it up and plop on the toilet. Shit, I'm probably pissing on my gown but emptying my bladder is such a relief that I don't care. I laugh when I'm barely able to push myself from the toilet. I'm certain of one thing in my life; I will never get pregnant again. Washing and drying my hands quickly, I give myself a once over. I'm satisfied that I still look presentable. I swing open the door, and my belly nearly slams into Caleb's back. For some damn reason, he's standing directly in front of the door and is effectively blocking me from exiting the ladies room.
"Caleb, what are you doing? Now you goons want to listen while I pee?" I snap irritably. "Move, Caleb!"
"I'm afraid that I can't do that, Ana," he replies.
What the fuck?
"Caleb, who do you work for?" I demand.
He doesn't fucking answer me, he is so tall, and his shoulders are so broad that I cannot see around him. I'm too tired, too grumpy, too pregnant, and miss my man too much to be rational.
"Caleb," I say through gritted teeth. "What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing?"
I am very close to kicking him in the back of one of his knees, although I doubt he would flinch.
"I need for you to wait inside, Ana," he tells me.
"Why? Get the hell out of my way, right now! I don't pay you to keep me a prisoner in a fucking bathroom! MOVE!" I yell at the top of my lungs and do my best to see past him.
Whatever it is that has this idiot holding me hostage had better be the Boogeyman or a serial killer. I could stab Caleb in the neck if I had Kate's stilettos. I push him with every bit of pathetic pregnant force that a woman of five-foot-three can muster, and the bastard doesn't move an inch. I decide to change tactics and stand on my tiptoes and attempt to get as close to his ear as possible.
"Fucking move, Caleb. You will step out of my way if you value your high paying job," I say in a low voice and try my best to sound menacing.
"Ana, I am not moving. I promise that I will once Tom makes it over here," he says.
Tom?
From my insane frustration, I let out the scream of a person being stabbed to death. I am nearly in tears.
"Neither you nor Tom will have a job if you don't get out of my goddamn way!" I shriek. My voice is hoarse and raw from screaming.
"Tom will have my ass if I. . ."
"Let me reiterate what I said. You won't have to worry about Tom having your ass because if you don't move, I will fire the both of you! NOW MOVE‼!"
"I can't." he says resolutely.
It looks like it's time for me to change my tactics.
"I'm very pregnant, and you aren't supposed to upset a pregnant woman. Guess what, Caleb? You are upsetting this pregnant woman!"
Finally! I watch him shift his weight as if he's about to move. My happiness over making him feel guilty enough to move is short lived when I hear why he's getting out of my way.
"You can let her out now, Caleb."
Mother fucking Tom to the rescue! What an ass wipe.
Why does he sound so harsh and angry? I guess I broke one of Tom's rules by going to pee.
The idiot named Caleb moves to his right, and I shove him as I escape my prison cell. I point a finger at the both of them.
"You fucks are ridiculous and stupid! Do you see how pregnant I am? You shouldn't upset me and . . ."
I come to a complete halt just as my midnight blue Manolo Blahnik ballet slippers are about to take another step into the hallway. I realize that my body is frozen; but I feel as if I'm skidding across the floor. I'm not quite sure if I'm holding my breath or gasping for air. The only thing I am sure about is whom I am staring at and who is staring back at me.
Christian.
Tom is in front of me and is partially blocking my view. Some hulking goon that must be his security is behind my former husband.
The world has stopped spinning and I want to jump off.
"How are you, Anastasia?" Christian asks politely. His voice is one of a stranger.
It sure doesn't feel like I was ever married to this creep.
Tom throws his arm up in front of me. I am too stunned to speak. Seconds, minutes, hours, days, maybe weeks pass and I still can't find a word to say.
The self-proclaimed monster is as handsome as the first day I saw him, and he does not look a day older than the last day I saw him. He's wearing a black dinner suit and black bow tie, and if I'm not mistaken, he looks humble. He isn't even glaring or throwing menacing looks at Tom.
Christian's eyes dart to my belly and then back to my face, and he nods at me.
"Congratulations. I hope you don't mind that mom mentioned you are expecting twins. Congratulations about your son, as well."
"Mr. Grey, you need to leave," Tom says and then he looks at Christian's security. "Big guy, I'd advise you to quickly get your boss out of my face."
What does this EXCUSE of a man want with me? Oh my, God! Did he follow me down here?
Christian nods once again, only this time to Tom, and he begins to walk away, his goon behind him.
Suddenly, unexpectedly, and without reason, I finally find my voice. I find my very bitter, angry, and outraged voice.
"Did you follow me down here?" I call out to Christian's retreating form.
Tom swiftly looks at me in warning.
"Don't stir up shit, Ana. Don't fucking do it."
Christian stops, turns back around, and I see the embarrassment on his face.
"Yes, I did. I apologize if you think I intended to approach you in a malicious way. I just caught sight of you and thought I could have a moment of your time. There's been something that I've wanted to talk to you about," he replies. He almost looks . . . nervous?
This is too fucking weird and I hate this son of a bitch, but by God, I want to hear whatever bullshit he wants to spout.
"Ana," Tom growls.
I move around his arm that is still in front of my belly.
"Tom," I reply, looking him straight in the eyes.
"You will not talk to that bastard. I will not allow it - do you hear me?"
"Last time I checked, I'm a grown woman and I don't require permission to do anything."
"Why the fuck do you want to listen to his bullshit and venom, Ana? I goddamn knew this night was going to be a disaster!" He shouts.
"I'm really not trying to cause a scene or upset Anastasia. So I'll be on my way. It was nice seeing you, Anastasia," Christian says.
"No, Christian. I want to hear what it is that you want to talk to me about," I snap, my voice is brimming with hostility.
"Ana, I'm warning you. . ."
I turn on Tom like a rabid animal.
"Take your warning and shove it up your ass! I'll talk to whomever I wish and that's the end of this discussion. I pay you to protect me, but not to screen people that I speak to. Frisk the motherfucker if you want to. I seriously doubt that the CEO extraordinaire is here to murder me! So move out of the way, and let the douche say whatever crap he wants to spew. Go stand at the end of the fucking hallway, Tom. You can watch every move the fuck makes, and when I've had enough of his shit, I'll walk away. Now do as I say and don't make me say it again," I hiss.
Tom's face is one of thunder, he shakes his head at me, and I watch as he talks into his wrist. Fucking James Bond wanna-be's. He points at Christian.
"I'll be at the end of this hallway, and if you make one move that I don't like, we're going to have a problem."
My back is facing away from the ballroom, and I watch as the devil himself slowly makes his way toward me.
I scan his face quickly, looking for a crack in his expression that would allow evil to escape. His face has been a blur in my memory for the past five years, and I can't infer what he may be thinking. Hell, I could never get a read on him when we were together. It vaguely registers that I no longer feel any sexual attraction being near Christian.
"I really don't want to cause a problem, Anastasia."
I smirk at him. "Why have you always insisted on calling me Anastasia when you know that I prefer Ana?"
My question has Christian looking bemused. "I've always thought it was a lovely name."
"You knew that I preferred Ana."
He furrows his brow. "Okay, I apologize for disregarding your wishes . . . along with many other things," he says.
Narrowing my eyes, I focus on his and think I see regret. Oh, I understand regret, and that's because I regret you, Christian Grey. I want some answers despite the fact that he makes my skin crawl.
"Did you give Safe Haven that fucking money to get in here and stalk me into some remote hallway? Was that contribution your way of worming your ass back around me?"
Christian's hands are in his pockets and he looks at the floor. "No, it actually wasn't. The committee at GEH that's in charge of charitable donations has suggested your foundation for a few years now. When they presented the idea of donating money to Safe Haven on those occasions, I didn't feel it was appropriate. I also didn't want to upset you," he replies, finally looking at me.
"So now was the appropriate time to upset me?"
"No, the donation wasn't meant to upset you at all. I just wanted to help, and I heard that you were trying to expand Safe Haven to more cities and perhaps out of state. With my company being in the position to donate a substantial amount of money, I wanted to help the foundation if you ever wanted to expand further than the West coast."
"Explain to me why it was THAT amount of money. Is that supposed to mean something?" I ask.
Christian shakes his head. "It wasn't supposed to mean anything . . . well, maybe it was. I've come to believe you deserved that money, and you should have kept it. I couldn't very well cut you a check and mail it to you. So when the committee was considering how much they wanted to donate to Safe Haven, I told them to donate that amount." He shrugs his shoulders.
I cross my arms, and they sit on top of my belly. It's still clear as mud as to what he wants to tell me.
"May I say that pregnancy suits you?"
I scoff and my eyes widen. I nearly bring up the fact that he denied me the right to have a child. I choose to not bring up a past that I've long since buried.
"Well, I suppose you can since you just told me," I snap.
"You're still very angry with me, aren't you? I don't blame you if you hate my guts, Ana. I'd like to say a few things to you, and I hope you consider listening to me," he says quietly.
Eyeing him speculatively, I take a step closer to him so now I have to look up to see his face. Those gorgeous gray eyes are wide and apprehensive.
"You have something to say to me? Didn't you have your say years ago at a law firm in Vancouver?"
He runs a hand through his hair. He still does that annoying shit, and Kate told me that he was completely different. I call bullshit.
"What I told you that day is a part of what I'd like to say to you."
I scrunch my face up and stare up at him dubiously. "Christian, what are you up to? Where in the hell are you headed with this conversation?"
He exhales deeply and looks into my eyes. "I'm sure that you know that I've been in treatment for. . ."
Waving a hand in the air, I groan. Here we fucking go, and like I care to fucking hear it.
"I know what you're getting treated for, Christian. I've also been told that you've changed for the better, and I'm really happy to hear that. But what does that have to do with me?" I ask.
"I spent more time at a treatment facility earlier this year, and it was the most helpful stay that I've had. It was also enlightening, and I saw things that I needed to rectify. Perhaps things I could do over," he says softly.
"Ah, so you want to unload your shit on me so you can get over something that bothers you. You're looking for an outlet in order to cope with life and maybe some residual guilt you might have. I get it. You start therapy and it hurts. It makes you sad and it pains you. I understand those feelings because I spent three years in therapy to resolve my shit. I unloaded my problems with my therapist and not some random person. So forgive me if I'm not interested in being an outlet for your feelings."
Christian shakes his head and looks frustrated. "No, I wasn't clear. I didn't mean to imply that I wanted to place my issues on your shoulders. What I'm trying to tell you is something I should have told you long ago. Anasta, I mean Ana, I am just so fucking sorry for all of the things that I have done. I'm so sorry and ashamed of the things that I did to you. I know that apologizing doesn't change the disgusting ways that I treated you, but I wonder if we. . ."
"Christian, you'll never have adequate words to say how sorry you are for what you did to me. You can say every word in the English language until your lips are bleeding and your jaw is broken, and it will never be enough. I know who I am; but I have no idea who you are. Fuck, I never did. The thing is that I'm no longer tricked by who I thought you were. I am way past those illusions, and you don't need to apologize to me. I forgave you a long time ago, Christian. I set our marriage on fire, held it out a window, and let it blow away. If you needed to apologize in order to move on with your life, then you just did and now you know that I've already forgiven you. Is that what you needed me to tell you?" I ask, interrupting him.
He stands and stares at me and looks so forlorn. "I don't need you to tell me anything. I have something to tell you."
"Jesus Christ! Then just tell me!" I demand, exasperated.
"I told you all of that 'I'm a monster' bullshit because I was fucked up and stupid. I was so goddamn oblivious! When I was gone earlier this year for more fucking therapy, all my feelings crashed down on me. The feelings I had been holding in for so many years hit me at once. I couldn't handle it, and it left me suffocating with what if's," he exclaims. "Please, just hear me out. I'm not explaining myself well or saying any of this the right way. God! I was so wrong when I told you that I was nothing more than a monster and that I never. . ."
I hold my hands up in a defensive position and cut him off.
"Oh, yes. How can I forget those 'Christian Grey is a monster' declarations? So you want to right your wrong of telling me that you were a monster and that's why you mutilated me. Now you're here and you want me to pry open your rib cage and release the monster you're so sure that you are. I understand that feeling, Christian. I had a monster, too. It was you. Do you want to know how I tried to remove my monster? I sat in a proverbial ER hundreds of times and begged doctors to help and get you out of me. Well, they couldn't. Do you want to know why, Christian? It's because a doctor can't remove a fucking monster from your body."
Christian is furiously scrubbing his hands over his face. He is obviously frustrated. "Why is this so hard?" he asks. "I'm so sorry that you felt like that. God will never forgive me for making you hurt like that! But that isn't what I'm trying to say right now. Please, please, just hear me out! Give me a chance to get this out. Please!"
I slowly shake my head at him. "Christian, we are strangers because of catastrophic actions, and there is no amount of polite, mundane conversation that can fix that. I hate to say this, but whatever it is that's stuck in the back of your throat isn't going to fix that either."
"You honestly don't want to hear me out, do you?"
"Why do you say that?
"Because you won't let me finish what I'm trying to say. You won't let me tell you, and you keep interrupting me in mid-sentence," he replies. His voice is low and he sounds desolate.
"Fine, I'll shut up and won't interrupt you while you're trying to talk."
"I . . . umm . . . I kept your letter. And I . . . I keep it in my wallet, and I have since you sent it to me."
I stare at him in confusion.
"My letter? What letter?" I murmur.
"The letter that you sent to me a year after we divorced," he quickly replies. "You had written the letter a few months after we signed our divorce papers, but you didn't send it to me then. A year passed and you sent it to me with a little note inside explaining how the letter was from the previous year."
Oh, that letter.
"I never responded to you. Well, I never responded until a few months ago after I sorted out my feelings and realized something. My therapist knew that I've always kept your letter in my wallet, and told me to read it and then write you back," he says earnestly.
I do as I promised and don't say anything. I watch as Christian reaches into the jacket of his suit and see him remove something from its inside pocket. I keep my eyes on whatever it is he is retrieving from his jacket. What the fuck is that? Oh. An envelope.
"I read that letter and realized what had been in front of my face for years. I saw a lot of truth that was hiding under my problems and addiction, Ana. I just wanted to give this letter to you and let you know that I . . ."
The fireworks suddenly explode, throwing different rays of lights through the window, and startle me. I vaguely hear Christian's words as I peer out of the window and watch the sky alight with bright and beautiful colors. The hallway is illuminated by the fireworks, and I turn my attention back to Christian. Christian is looking behind me. He has stopped speaking, and the envelope is frozen in his hand.
I do not have to look behind me to know what Christian is staring at. It's him. I never have to see him. I feel him. I can sense him from far away because my body is completely attuned to his presence. It instantly puts me at ease and excites me at the same time. The feeling is erotic and inexplicable. I don't need to hear his footsteps to know whenever he approaches me. I am overwhelmed with our strange and pulsating electricity.
He places an arm around my shoulder and the hand of his other arm goes straight to my belly – the home of his twin girls. I feel the warmth of his breath as he kisses my temple.
"Happy New Year's, baby." he says against my skin.
I practically throw myself in his arms. He gingerly sets my feet back on the floor after a gentle, but long over-due embrace, and I clasp his hand tightly.
"Are you alright?" He whispers to me.
Beaming, I nod up at him. He is gazing intently into my eyes, and places his hands on either side of my face and kisses me softly. Pulling away, he smiles, and then he directs his attention squarely on Christian.
"Grey."
Christian nods.
"Sawyer."
Luke gazes down at me and rubs a thumb across my lower lip.
"Are you finished here, baby?"
I am so happy that I can't speak and the ever-changing lights from the fireworks are dancing around us. My huge smile answers his question, and we turn and head toward the ballroom.
Halfway down the hallway, I remember Christian. I glance back at him, and he is standing there watching us walk away.
Squinting in order to see him better, the blue flash of a firework surrounds him. His shoulders are slumped dejectedly, and his expression burns devastation.
The envelope is still in his hands.
So we've reached the end of this little story. Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and sent messages. The support and encouragement I have received has been enormous & my gratitude is endless. I said that I would answer any & all questions anyone may have-so if you do, ask away. Again, thank you all for reading.