AN: This is still Madison's friend. I don't usually post notes like this. But it has been a very scary & stressful few weeks. I could write paragraph's about the things that have happened. But that would bore you. So, I will just mention the current most important thing. Our dog Sassy has several health issues. We're worried that she has Pancreatitis again. She needs to go to the vet. But we are currently snowed in with no way to get out of our driveway. So, if you believe I'm asking (begging) you to please, pray for Sassy. If you don't believe. That's cool! I don't mean to offend anyone. But if you wouldn't mind I would LOVE it for you to send positive thoughts, or GOOD Karma out into the universe. Thank you in advance.

Chpt. 33 TPOV

I wake up my arms wrapped around Ana, her back to my chest, just as I have so many mornings. But what's different this morning, is that Christian is asleep on the other side of me; until last night Ana has always been in the middle, sleeping between us. Last night though that changed, hell a lot of things changed last night. Christian's heavy arm resting on my leg is proof of just how things changed… as is his hard dick that is pressed against my ass as he sleeps.

Last night… I'd like to sit here and say I never thought what happened between me and Christian would ever happen. And two years ago, I would have been able to say that. But even before last night, I couldn't have said I didn't think it would happen. At some point, I knew things would progress between us; it was inevitable with how close the three of us were becoming… with how close Christian and I were becoming. I just expected it to happen at some point… down the road. Even though it was unexpected, I don't regret it in the slightest. Last night… I don't think I've ever felt as close to Ana and Christian both as I did last night. Making love to Ana while Christian was… inside of me, fuck that was… I never felt so…

"You're thinking too hard," Christian grumbles from behind me.

"Sorry," I whisper careful not to wake Ana.

"You good?"

"Yeah. You?"

"I could sleep for a few more hours," he chuckles. "But yeah, I'm good."

What neither of are asking the other, is do we regret what happened between us last night. It may not have been planned, but last night just felt… right. This, right here, feels so fucking right. The three of us in bed together, wrapped around each other…this is right. I'm so ready to get out of this fucking state, to get back to our house and to the bed that Ana ordered for us.

"We should get going soon," Christian mumbles against my shoulder while his hand grips my hip reassuringly.

"I know," I sigh.

"This is going to be all over after today, T. We can leave here after the meeting and head back to Seattle and forget everything that happened here."

"Maybe not everything," I can't help but chuckle. There are a lot of things I want to forget about this fucking trip, but last night isn't one of them.

"Not everything," Christian's dick twitches against my ass; I lean back, turning to look at him as I smirk.

His lips meet mine, his tongue gliding over my lips until I grant him the access he's requesting. My arm wraps around his neck, pulling him into me as he tugs me and Ana closer to him. My dick which was already hardening is now begging for attention with Ana's soft body pressed tightly against it. She quickly flips over, her leg rests mine and Christian's, bringing my dick right against her sex.

"I could get used to waking up like this," Ana giggles.

I don't respond, not that I can but Christian brings her closer to us. He pulls away from me just enough to find Ana's lips. I love watching them kiss, watching how they respond to each other, to how happy they make each other. If you would have told me a few years ago that Christian and I would be sharing a woman together I would have told you that you were crazy. If you would have told me then that not only were Christian and I sharing this beautiful woman but that we were in a relationship with each other as well, I would have asked what drugs you were smoking. I hadn't thought much about a future, but when I did it was always with a woman and maybe a few kids. It was never with another man and woman together and it definitely didn't involve me having a physical relationship with another man. But now, I can't picture my future any other way. I can't imagine my life without these two and I wouldn't change anything about our relationship. Well, except the wedding… I would change that so it happened sooner rather than later. We haven't talked about a date yet, since our entire focus has been on the house renovations and moving in but as soon as that's done I want us to get married.

"If we don't stop…" Ana pants as she pulls back from Christian.

"Hmmmm?" Christian groans.

"We're going to… miss the meeting," she lowers herself until her lips are on me.

"Fuck the meeting," my arm tightens around her and fuck if she doesn't rock against me.

"Then we'd have to come back here again at some point," Christian stills against me.

"Fuck," I sigh realizing he's right.

"Tonight… we can christen our new bed," Ana nips at my lips before pulling away further.

"You can count on it," my hips thrust against hers leaving her no doubt just how much I want her.

"It's going to be a long day," Christian grumbles before slowly slipping out of the bed.

The three of us shower together, the sexual tension is high as it usually is between us but none of us act on it this time. In fact, none of us really say much as we get ready for this fucking meeting with the lawyer and my aunts and uncles who can barely manage to say more than a single word to me. I still can't figure out what my grandmother could have possibly left me…maybe a piece of jewelry? It's the only thing that comes to mind but it doesn't feel like that's what it would be.

Just like yesterday morning, we pack our bags, check out of the hotel and load the car. Yesterday I was ready to go home, today I'm beyond ready to put this nightmare behind me. I never wanted to return to this town, never wanted to see any of them again, yet here we are…again. As if the last two days weren't enough, I have to see them again today. Part of me thought that perhaps after all these years that they would be able to look at me differently. That they might be able to look at me without constantly thinking about what happened. That they might want to know what my life has been like since I left more than seven years ago. That they might care…

"Are you ready Taylor?" Ana's soft voice pulls me from my thoughts which is only when I realize that the car is parked outside of a large brick building. I have no fucking idea how we got here or how long we've been sitting in a parked car. I'll be glad when this trip is behind us, when we get back to planning our future together. I need to get my mind off of this shit and back where it belongs. Working on our house, planning the wedding, expanding the business – those are my priorities. That's where my head should be, not fucking in the past.

"Let's get this over with," I say with determination.

"One thing before we go," Christian turns around, quickly wrapping his hand around Ana's head and pulls her towards him. She moans the moment their lips meet, which he quickly takes advantage of. I watch as his tongue darts into her mouth, tasting her as if it's the last time. I hate the position this has put Christian in, that we're lying about how important he is to both of us. I hate that I've introduced him as a friend because he's so much fucking more than that.

"Okay, we can go now," he chuckles as he releases Ana.

"Uh… sure," she mumbles her cheeks flushed and her eyes filled with desire.

How is it just a matter of hours ago we were literally inside one another, yet all I can think about is being back in bed…with both of them?

"Let's get this over with so we can go home," I squeeze Ana's hand tightly and lean over the seat to quickly kiss Christian before he turns around to get out of the car. He groans against my lips and fuck if my dick doesn't twitch at the need in his voice.

Silently, we exit the car and head into the building; instead of focusing on what might happen all I can think about right now is our house. The house that later this week we will move in; the house that the three of us have designed together. The large bed that Ana found waiting for us in the living room, the master bathroom that Christian designed waiting to be used and the kitchen that Ana and I designed together…all waiting for us.

"Right this way," a receptionist leads us down a long hallway to a large conference room.

"Mr. Taylor, thank you for joining us," Mr. Bradford greets us as soon as we enter the room. I'm not surprised that no one else at the table does the same.

"Mr. Bradford," I nod, leading Ana and Christian to the end of the table where there are three empty seats together. There were other seats closer to Mr. Bradford, but this was the only spot that had three seats available.

Over the next few minutes the room is silent, except for Mr. Bradford ruffling through a stack of papers. When Uncle Anthony arrives, the meeting begins.

"Thank you all for coming," Mr. Bradford begins. "I've explained, California law requires that everyone listed in the will be physically present for the reading of the will. Spouses are permitted to act on behalf of their significant other which accounts for some individuals being left out of today's meeting. And of course children are not required to be in attendance, as it is assumed their parents are here on their behalf. As most of you know, I worked with Marie for five years initially consulting with her regarding financial and investment decisions but three years ago she came to me to set up her last will. Before the reading of the will, I want to state that Marie was in sound mind when this was developed and her family physician signed off supporting this fact. If you wish to contest the will in court, you will not be able to use this as a reason. Is that understood?"

I glance around the room, watching as everyone nods. Ana looks at me questioningly; I shrug in response having no idea why Mr. Bradford thinks anyone would contest the will. I didn't know anything about my grandmother's finances, but she couldn't have had that much that Mr. Bradford thinks will cause a commotion. I just want this to be over so we can fucking leave; if I never have to see these people again that will be fine with me. Ana squeezes my hand other table, pulling my attention back to what Mr. Bradford is saying.

"Marie's house, as you all know was paid in full. She has a real estate agent already contracted to handle the sale of the property. After all fees are paid, the remaining balance shall be split equally amongst her five remaining children. Any possessions in her home and vehicles owned should be sold and split equally as well."

No surprise there.

"Each grandchild has a college fund already established, however a lump sum will be deposited to bring the total of each account to $75,000. This money is only payable to a college or technical school and cannot be withdrawn by the student or his/her parents at any time. Any requests for disbursement of these funds must be submitted to me in writing for consideration. A separate trust has been established for any future grandchildren that are not yet born; if no grandchildren are born in the next 15 years, the money in the account will be given to the Northern California Women's Shelter in memory of Marie's daughter. As you all know, this shelter was something Marie felt very passionate about as she donated several times a year to their causes in her daughter's memory."

She did?

"Now, this brings us to Marie's investments, which as you know are numerous. At this time, her investments total approximately 17 million dollars-"

"Excuse me?" I did not just hear him correctly.

"Of course, depending on what is done with the investments this total could change-"

"I'm sorry," I put my hand up. "It's been...you're saying my grandmother was a millionaire?"

"Yes, Mr. Taylor," Mr. Bradford confirms before looking at Uncle Anthony who doesn't even acknowledge him. "Marie, your grandmother, won a state lottery five years ago in the amount of nearly 20 million dollars after taxes. She took it in one lump sum, paid off her house and other debts before investing the money with a financial broker."

"Holy shit," I gasp in surprise however looking around the table I see that I'm the only one surprised by this information. It seems everyone else knew about the lottery and the money my grandmother had. I regret not speaking to her more, especially over the last year. I should have made more of an effort. When I was in the service, she was the only person I ever received mail from other than Christian's family. I was always grateful that they would send me a separate care package each time they sent him one, even before meeting me for the first time. When her letters would come it felt…different. She never talked about my aunts and uncles in the letters, I think she understood there was tension between us. But she would keep me updated on what my cousins were up to and what was going on in her life. Though she never once mentioned the lottery, which surprises me. Not that I expected her to send me money or anything of course, I was more than capable of taking care of myself. The Air Force paid well and since I didn't have anyone back home to take care of, I was able to save most of my checks for when I returned to civilian life. In every letter though my grandmother would ask what I needed, but each time I would respond that I was fine and that she should worry about anything she needs.

"I apologize Mr. Taylor, I assumed you knew," Mr. Bradford says.

"He didn't keep in touch with the family," Uncle Anthony mumbles.

"My grandmother and I kept in touch," I clarify. "When I was in the Air Force we exchanged letters regularly, but she never mentioned having won the lottery. Over the last couple of years, it seemed she learned how to use email and we would keep in touch that way." I don't mention that I haven't heard from her in nearly a year.

That shuts Uncle Anthony up quick, though by the surprise in the faces around the table it's obvious that my grandmother didn't make it known that she was still in touch with me.

"As I was saying, the current value of Marie's investments total approximately 17 million dollars. However it should be noted that this can change based on when the money is withdrawn from the various accounts. I advise each of you to consult a financial advisor regarding as this is obviously not my area of expertise," Mr. Bradford says. "In accordance with Marie's last will, 15 million dollars is hereby left to Jason Taylor-"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Uncle Anthony slams his fist on the table and practically jumps from his seat.

"WHAT?" everyone else starts talking at once while I just sit there trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

"Everyone, please," Mr. Bradford says loudly trying to get everyone's attention.

"Did you know about this?" Ana whispers.

"No idea."

"Anthony please calm down," Aunt Nancy requests.

"Calm down? Are you fucking kidding me? What the fuck did he do to deserve her money? He wasn't the one dealing with all her appointments, finding in home services, making sure food and medicine was delivered on time. We were the ones taking care of our mother-"

"Are you serious?" Ana stands up before I can stop her. "Did you hear what you just said?"

"Ana-" I tug her arm.

"No, I've sat here long enough," she snaps. "You, all of you, took care of your mother in her final days. You all made sure she had everything she needed….you did it to get a share of her money?"

"No….of course not-" Uncle Anthony says.

"That's exactly what it sounds like," Ana replies.

"I think Anthony is just surprised," Aunt Nancy explains.

"Your damn right I'm surprised, we fucking deserve that money!"

"You want the fucking money?" I stand, I'm done.

"You deserve your mother's money, that's what you're saying?" Ana squeezes my hand. "You deserve your mother's money because you took care of her, because you did what any child should do for their mother in her final days. Have any of you considered for a fucking moment, that you had the one thing that Taylor will never have? You had those final days with your mother; hell you probably had the chance to say goodbye. Taylor didn't."

"That's not our fucking fault!" Uncle John adds.

"And it's not his either," Ana snaps back.

"I'm done, we're leaving," with Ana's hand in mine I lead her from the table glancing back only to confirm that Christian is following behind us.

"Mr. Taylor," Mr. Bradford calls above the mummers of everyone at the table following Ana's outburst.

"What?" I turn glaring at him even though I know nothing here is his fault.

"I have to remind you, that the law requires you or your spouse to be present for the entire reading of the will," fuck.

"I'll stay," Christian says. "You guys go, I'll stay."

"Are you sure Christian?" Ana asks.

"You don't have to-"

"I'm sorry, I could allow for your fiancé to be here in your absence but the law doesn't allow a friend to stand in on your behalf," Mr. Bradford says.

"Then I guess it's a good thing he's my fiancé," I argue.

"Excuse me?" Mr. Bradford's surprise would cause me to laugh under different circumstances.

"Fuck the billboard," Christian mumbles before his lips land on mine. The kiss is quicker than I would have liked, but judging by the gasps in the room it served it's purpose.

"I… uh… for legal purposes, I need you to state for the record who your fiancé is," Mr. Bradford requests.

"Mr. Bradford, I'd like to introduce my fiancé Christian Grey to you," I take Ana's hand in mine. "You've already met our fiancé Ana."

"So what… you're a faggot now? All that time in the Army-"

SLAP

My head turns to find Uncle Anthony clutching his cheek glaring at a very angry Aunt Nancy.

"Take the car," Christian hands Ana the keys. "There's bar and grill two blocks away from here, go grab some drinks. And food, make sure he eats before he starts downing the drinks."

Without hesitation, Ana leans up and wraps her arms around Christian's neck and kisses him in front of everyone. Despite everything that just happened, I feel like a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders by not having to hide who we are to each other.

"You sure?" I ask quietly when Christian steps back from Ana. "You don't have to stay, really."

"I'm sure," the look in his eyes tells me there's more he wants to stay but can't.

"Mr. Taylor, I'll need you to sign off agreeing to allow…Mr. Grey to represent you at this meeting. He won't be able to make any decisions or requests for funds in your absence; he is here only as a witness to the meeting on your behalf," Mr. Bradford hands me a form. I quickly glance over it before signing it and handing it to Christian who then also signs the form.

"Let's go," Ana squeezes my hand when I realize that everyone is standing their staring at us.

"Thank you," I lean in and kiss Ana before turning to Christian, wishing I could tell them in words how much this fucking means to me.

"I'll meet you there, if you go somewhere else just text me and I'll Uber over to where you are."

Without saying another word, I walk out paying no attention to the mumbles and whispers behind our backs.

CPOV:

"First off," I turn around as soon as the door closes. "Taylor was in the Air Force, not the Army which confirms what I already knew. None of you gave a shit about him-"

"Wait a minute," Nancy interrupts. "We, all of us, took Jason into our homes to save him from being in the foster care system. We took him in our homes; how dare you imply we didn't care about him."

"You didn't and you still don't," I argue. "You put a roof over his head, meals on the table and clothes on his back. But which one of you treated him like he was your own child? Which one of you helped him through the nightmares at night? Which one of you came to every one of his football games? Baseball games? Hell….who was there to say goodbye when he went off to basic training?"

Silence answers me.

"I served with Taylor, all four years in the Air Force and I already know the answers to those questions. I also know that not once was he invited home while on break or for a holiday. How do I know that? Because it was my family that took him in; my family that sent him care packages and invited him over when we were stateside."

"Look, you have to understand," some woman whose name I forgot says quietly. "After what….after what happened, our entire family changed. Our mother became so distraught she had to be put on medication for years after…Stacey died. Explaining what happened to our own kids was…difficult. We couldn't lie to them because we knew they would find out eventually. But how do you reassure young children that their daddy isn't going to kill their mom like their cousin's dad did?"

"And you have to understand what it was like for Taylor," I argue back. "He was six years old; his entire world was taken from him in one of the worst ways possible. He relived that nightmare each and every single day. He was the one who walked into the house and found his mother; do you think that image ever goes away? Because I can tell you it doesn't."

I blink away the image of my own mother lying on the kitchen floor, the needle still in her arm, not responding.

"We did the best we could," someone else says.

"Well, your best fucking sucked. You each took him in until you got tired of him-"

"That's not how it was!"

"Really, because that's how it felt to him," I point out. "You each told him how much he reminded you of what happened, how you couldn't look at him without remembering his mom-"

"He looked so much like her," Nancy says. "She….she had the same eyes he has, even sitting here he reminded me so much of Stacy."

"I get it, but do you think a six year old understood that? Do you think as he got older that it hurt any less being shuffled from one home to another to another whenever someone got tired of him?"

"You don't know!" Anthony screams. "You don't know what it was like! We had no idea…no idea my sister was being abused the way she was. Did you know the coroner found evidence of old broken bones? Ones that were never treated? How do you think that made us feel? That we fucking missed all the signs that she was being abused!"

"You felt guilty," I realize.

"Of course we felt guilty and still do! We failed her; it was our job as her older brothers to protect her, to watch out for her and we failed her."

"You had a chance to do better with her son," I soften my voice. "You had a chance to welcome him into your homes, to treat him like one of your own children and to help him move past this. But you didn't. You know how I know that you didn't? And it's not from the nightmare that he has."

"How?" Nancy asks.

"Did you know that he has nothing in his bedroom? Not a single personal item, not even a picture of his favorite baseball team, nothing. We've shared an apartment since we returned stateside almost three years ago and before that when we were on base. In the more than seven years that I've known Taylor, there has never been a personal item in his bedroom."

I still don't know how I missed that, but Ana immediately picked up on it when she came to stay with us for that week. It was her who put two and two together and discovered the reason.

"What's that got to do with anything? Plenty of people don't clutter their bedroom with shit," Anthony mumbles.

"Think about it," I argue. "In your bedroom, there are probably pictures of your kids on the wall or maybe your wedding pictures. In your drawers, there's probably small mementos from a trip or maybe something you picked up on a family vacation sits on your dresser. There is nothing in his room, nothing at all. And you want to know why? Because he never bothered to keep those things. He told me once that he learned shortly after….after you all took him in that it was pointless to unpack his room because he would only have to pack it up again when one of you decided you had enough."

"We thought we were doing the right thing," someone else says.

"I'm sure you thought you were, but if one of you stopped being selfish long enough-"

"That's enough I won't have you call any of us names-"

"But it was fine for you to call Taylor a faggot a few minutes ago?" I push back.

"If it's possible," Mr. Bradford speaks up. "I'd like to finish the reading of the will so we can all be on our way. I know Mr. Grey and his fiancé er fiances have a long drive ahead of them."