My dear little broccolisđź’šđź’šđź’š
đź’šSweetie, Let Me Give You The Daddyđź’š
"The best investment I ever made, was when I lost fifty million dollars and met the love of my life as a result of that."
‼️Rated M - {Out Of Characters/All Human/Alternate Universe}‼️
‼️Romance/Angst/Drama/Lemons‼️
‼️AS/CG/The Greys/The Steeles/José Rodriguez/Grace Grey‼️
đź’šNow, in case it wasn't clear, this will be a Christian POV story. and I know you will want Ana's PoV, but it will just be Christian.
đź’š READ & REVIEW, DON'T BE A SILENT READER đź’š
Chapter 27: The Sweets Stolen By The Daddy (6,4K)
So, this title seems quite obvious … Both in intent and in position in the story … Do you remember what happened last time?
The Sunday that followed was the hardest day Christian had ever lived through. Ana had slept in Grace's room, to their daughter's greatest pleasure. In two days, she had gotten to fall asleep with both of her parents and she was now trying to negotiate her way into their bed so she could sleep between both of them that same night.
Unlike what she usually did, Ana didn't try to argue, and it was Christian who had to remind Grace that she had school the next day. It seemed clear from the first light of day that he wouldn't be able to speak with Ana when Grace was around, and bedtime would be their only window.
Grace didn't argue much, and she asked her mother if she could make pancakes for once. Christian frowned, unsure of what that meant, but then recalled that Gail had taken over the cooking. Ana had probably even stopped making simple things like breakfast, and he didn't know how to feel about that.
Cooking had always seemed something Ana liked to do naturally, not because someone asked her. Some homemade truffles had actually been her first Christmas present for him. Over the years, Christian had always seen Ana enjoy herself in a kitchen, and feel relaxed and in her element, no matter how foreign the kitchen could be for her.
And yet, as she made the pancakes that Grace asked for, Ana felt stiff, like her place was anywhere but in the kitchen of her own home. And then it hit him. There was no music. Ana always cooked with music on. This was how he discovered her beautiful voice and her eclectic taste. He tried putting some music on, something upbeat and joyous, but Ana barely reacted, focusing on her pancakes whilst Grace made him dance to Barbie Girl with her.
Still, as they sat to eat their breakfast, Christian grabbed Ana's hand, his face hard as he analysed the cuts on the palms of her hands. It looked as if she had fallen, but it didn't make sense, only her palms were injured.
"What happened?" He asked, hoping that Grace's presence would force Ana to talk to him. He was very well aware that he was doing what she had accused him of in the first place, but this was the one question he wouldn't be able to let go unresolved. He needed to know why her hands were a mess. It didn't escape him that she had hidden that very issue with gloves the night before.
Gently, Ana removed her hand from his to caress his face before leaning in and pecking his lips with a soft smile, saying, "It's a secret."
Grace giggled, putting a knowing finger on her lips as she tried to wink (and failed) at her mother. Christian gave her a smile and looked down at his pancakes, drowning his worries in his mug of "Best Daddy". Ana would never do something dangerous or…worse, in front of their daughter, and Grace did seem to be her confidant in this.
And then, he realised with horror what had just taken place. The way Ana had just acted was exactly the same as every other day after he came back to them. There was no difference. In fact, if they hadn't had the argument of Friday night, he never would have realised that something was awry.
How had he missed so much about her? How did he not notice? She was the love of his life, and he hadn't been able to differentiate her true self, from the fraud she had on display for the world to see. He focused, blocking out Grace as she told her mother about the movie they watched with her friend. He tried to remember when he had pulled the trigger, the point where everything had started rolling downhill. But he couldn't. Or…he didn't want to admit it to himself.
But in all honesty, there were two very distinct moments he could remember when he had seen a light die in her eyes. The night he had confronted her about Jamie, and Christmas night. Both times, he saw something change in her, and both times, he never even tried to reignite the spark that had shone in those sapphires.
Both times, he had been so wrapped up in his own self-pity that he could only care about the salvation she brought him. He never actually tried to see deeper on how he had hurt her. She had smiled, and he had taken that façade as an 'all was well'. He tried not to think too much about it, focusing back on the present moment with the girls, ignoring the nagging feeling that was inching towards him from her journal entries.
So, he started mirroring Ana: he smiled for Grace's sake and got stuck in this alternate, fake reality, only noticing how self-absorbed he had been right there in front of those pancakes. He had barely spent time with the girls since Christmas, dismissing Ana with the excuse of work every time she had tried to get him to have lunch or dinner with them. But now that he was spending the day with them, he realised how much Grace had always wished for that.
She was over the moon when she noticed that he had no intention of going to his office. She played the piano with him, she made him assist in taking care of her cats and fish, she picked a movie to watch with her parents. And Christian saw how good Ana was at pretending all was well. Grace did not suspect a thing.
Ana laughed, smiled and made conversation with Grace. She kissed him once in a while when Grace was watching. But there were other things that proved that she was dead inside. For every activity Grace shared with her father (piano, pets, chess) Ana just sat next to them with empty, unfocused eyes. And Ana had always been an active person. Whether she had a book, or work, or her phone, Ana never liked to sit and do nothing.
Well, she did something. She now had a glass of wine in her hand. At first, Christian didn't say anything, following Grace in her chopped rendition of Comptine d'Un Autre Été, but when Ana poured herself another glass when Grace and he played chess, he skilfully snatched the glass away from her. Ana didn't argue, or say anything at all, she just sat on the sofa, watching them play.
All day long, Christian tried to think of what he would tell Ana once Grace would be asleep, but he had no idea. He was sorry. For what he said, for what he did, for how he had treated the girls. But how could he explain to Ana how sorry he was? There were no words to describe his sorrow.
When it came time to get Grace to bed, Christian made sure to be the one to tuck her in, just so he could not give Ana the opportunity to hide in their daughter's room. Ana lovingly pecked the little girl's forehead and left them alone under the pretence of bonding time.
As soon as they were alone, Grace beamed at him, "See, I was a good girl. I didn't say anything about the ugly ring."
Christian chuckled without humour, feeling slightly rebuffed that his ring had so little qualities in his daughter's eyes. Grace looked at him with suspicion. "Are you really going to give it to Mama? It's really not pretty. Nana's ring is pretty."
"I'll buy another one," he promised her, and Grace puckered her lips, looking at her father with puppy eyes, silently asking him to take her with him when he did so, so he clarified,
"Not now. But I might ask for your input when I get to it." If he got to it.
Grace grinned victoriously, and Christian felt that he needed to quash her hopes before they got too high, "But it will be a long time, sweetie. In the meantime, it's our secret."
Grace sat up, clapping her hands as she exclaimed, "Oh, you can get her the ring for her birthday! Can you make a ring? Just like she's making—" The little girl clapped her hands on her mouth, a sheepish look on her face. Then she kissed her father on his cheek, and lied down in her bed, red like a tomato.
"Goodnight, Daddy. I'm tired."
"Is that why mommy has cuts on her hands? Because she's making something for my birthday?" Christian asked, his heart sinking low. Despite everything, Ana still took the time to make something for him.
"It's a secret," Grace said, not looking at him and refusing to explain in further detail what kind of secret it was. Christian nodded, not pushing the issue further. He kissed her forehead, and as he was about to stand up, she told him,
"I liked this weekend, Daddy. I like it when you're not too busy."
"Me too, sweetie," he assured her, though he was fully aware of the tons of work waiting for him on Monday. He just needed to resolve the issue with Ana, make her understand that he loved both girls and that he was sorry for his behaviour and words.
"Mama likes it when you're home too. She told me so. But she said that you are…like a superhero. You have a lot of work to do. But you still love us, right?"
"Of course, sweetie. I love you so much!"
Grace smiled in contentment, and Christian scooted her over so he could lie next to her in her bed. She closed her eyes, happy, and she let him know with a sleepy voice, "That's what Mama said. She said you love me to the moon and back. And every night, you give me a kiss when I sleep."
Christian let his daughter fall asleep, briefly wondering how Ana knew that he always passed by Grace's room when he came home. He stayed with his daughter for a whole hour, not giving Ana the possibility to hide with Grace once again. They would talk tonight, whether she liked it or not.
Then, he went back to the living room, expecting to find Ana there, but she was nowhere in sight in the spotless room. He found her in their room, already in bed, despite the fact that it was barely 9 pm. Sure, Ana always woke up with the sun, but Christian had never seen her in bed so early in the evening. Was this the reason why she had stopped waiting up for him? Because she had changed her sleep schedule?
She was facing away from him, so he walked to her side, switching on the light on the nightstand and for a brief second, he saw that she had been staring into space before she smiled brightly at him, raising herself on one elbow.
"I thought you were working."
He did not say anything for a few minutes, just looking at her and trying to see what he had missed. She definitely had lost weight and he still couldn't believe he had missed that. But there was more. Her dead eyes seemed a bit sunken on her face, her hair had lost its natural shine, her shoulders seemed to be holding an invisible weight.
He knelt on the floor, and she sat on the edge of the bed, slightly frowning at his position as he begged, "Ana…please, talk to me."
Once again, she smiled. That small condescending smile he hated so much. She pecked his lips and shook her head, "There is nothing to say, Christian."
"Please. Scream, shout, hit me. Do something!"
"Why would I do that?" She asked, incredulous.
"You know why…I am sorry, so sorry, for what I said the other night, babe. You have no idea how sorry I am."
She caressed his cheek, and he took her hand in his hand as she said with the same disarming calm, "It's your opinion, Christian. I can't fault you for having an opinion of me that differs from mine."
How could she be so calm thinking that he thought so low of her? Her past had never been an issue to him because he knew it was part of what made her so strong…or used to make her so strong.
"Please, Ana. Tell me what to do to make it better. Anything. Tell me how I can make you feel better," he begged, keeping to himself that 'better' in her case meant how to restore her to what she used to be, at best.
But all she did was smile, that same damn smile, that same pretence, that she was fine when she wasn't, and she pecked his lips, saying words that sounded false in Christian's ears.
"I am me. You're reading too much into this. I'm okay."
"It's not okay and you know it," he snapped, grabbing her face and feeling his throat tighten. "I am so sorry, Ana. I am so sorry to have been so self-absorbed I couldn't even realise I wasn't here for you. I'm supposed to be here for you. I'm supposed to be your partner. I'm supposed to be the one to make you happy, not mi—"
"It's okay, Christian," she stopped him with that insufferable smile and content tone. "It's my fault, really, I have always known where I rank for you, and I was stupid enough to forget that. I won't let it happen again. I'm sorry. Grace is happy, and that's all that matters."
He still had his hands cupping her face, and he hated the truth echoing in her blue eyes, even though that annoying smile was still plastered on her lips. He felt his heartbeat fasten with panic as the full meaning of her words registered to his brain.
"What do you mean you know where you rank for me? What…do…You do know how much I love you, right?"
She pecked his lips, her smile always there, taunting him, and then she turned to lay in bed. His heart stopped because this was clearly not the answer he expected. He moved so he would be sitting on his side of the bed, forcing Ana to face him once again.
"You do know that, right? You're the love of my life!" He told her, a bit more forcefully than he had intended.
She reached to kiss him, tackling him on the bed, and it was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured on him. How many times had he declared his love to her, and she had turned it into something physical? He never noticed that pattern, because he had always been all too happy to actually show with his body how much he did, in fact, love her. But this time, he saw it for what it really was, a diversion.
He stopped her and put her back on her back, accusing her, "How can you even think that I don't love you?! I haven't stopped loving you for years! You've been on my mind, in my heart for years! I didn't give that speech yesterday for them, but for you! You're —"
He stopped himself when he saw her face fall. She tried to turn, but he straddled her, forcing her to look at him, to acknowledge him.
"Talk to me!"
Ana gently shook her head, her face so much calmer than his. "What's the point, Christian? What I say doesn't matter in the grand scheme that is the grand life of Christian Grey."
"Of course it fucking does!"
She gave him that condescending look and he hated that she was so calm and resolved when he was so panicked and uncertain. She raised her hand to soothingly cup his face as she said in the most natural way,
"But in reality, it doesn't matter. You say it does just because you feel bad, and you think that you have to make me feel better. And you'll commit to it, for a month or so. But we both know that in the long run, you don't actually care."
He stared at her, swallowing his tears the best he could. How could he have failed so badly? How could the woman he loved be so sure of his lack of involvement? She could have slapped him and that it would have hurt less. There was nothing he wouldn't do for her, and she was persuaded of the contrary.
"How…how can you say that?" He whispered, not sure of his voice as his head hung low.
"How can you go on stage and say to the world that I'm the love of your life, even though you know how I feel about being publicly affectionate?" She retorted and he shook his head. This wasn't what happened. He talked to her, not the rest of them.
"I just…I wanted…I…"
"You wanted to capitalise on a moment. You got to say you were sorry, you loved me, and make yourself look good. I get it. That's who you are, who you've always been, Christian."
"No! I wanted to let you know how I feel, Ana. Had you not avoided me all day, I wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic measures!"
She opened her mouth to retort something, before closing it. Christian glared at her, moving so he was no longer on top of her and pulling her up so she would be sitting as he was, as he accused, "Go ahead, say it. I'm here. And there is nothing else. No phone, no emails, no kid. It's just you and me. Tell me how you feel, Ana!"
She shrugged, looking deep in his eyes of silver, "I only care about Grace. I told you, I know where my place is. You're the one who seems confused about it, Christian. Not me."
"And what's your place, then?" He gritted between his teeth.
"Remember one of the first things you told me? About love? Your first, second and third love are your company. You are a career-driven man who thrives on challenging himself with difficult tasks and overcoming them.
And…well, I always knew deep down that I had no space on that precious podium of yours. I always knew that I would never matter as much to you and that your company would always be first. And don't get me wrong, I made peace with that a long time ago. Not everyone loves the same way, I get that.
And when you came back in our lives, I gave you an out, I gave you the possibility to walk out and keep thriving in your work-life. But you swore that what you did to me, you wouldn't do to Grace. You swore that we weren't just your next challenge. You swore that you would find a balance. And…I was stupid enough to believe you.
Because the truth is, as soon as we were secured, as soon as your challenge was overcome and we moved in with you, you stopped putting in the effort. And I'm not even talking about me, I'm talking about your daughter who sees you as the eighth wonder of this world. You skipped dinners, weekends, breakfast. You forgot to call your child when you were abroad. You missed her first day in a new school. You…you only cared about you and your feelings.
And yet, you had those little bursts of showing your love to Grace. Like with the cats or putting things on hold when she would burst into your office or flying across the country when I fell. For a moment, it seemed that your podium changed. Work was still at the top and nothing will ever be able to shake that. But Grace was a close second. So close that she wouldn't even realise that she wasn't the first. And I could work with that.
Actually, for a while, I succeeded. She felt like she was your number one like any kid should feel. She never questioned why you weren't home much anymore. She didn't question why she had a teacher for her piano lessons instead of you, even though you promised to teach her. She never questioned why we were the ones calling you, instead of the other way around. She truly believed that you loved her more than anything."
She let out a small sigh and added, "In her eyes, this is the only time you have screwed up…don't do it again. A child can only give you so many chances Christian."
Christian kept his eyes on Ana, waiting for her to finish her tirade, but it seemed like she did. And so, he brought his hand to her face, leaning so his forehead leaned against hers. She talked all about Grace, but…
"What about you, Ana? Where do you think you stand on this podium?"
"I told you, Christian. I never stood on it. I never have been, and never will be, a priority. I've always known that."
He closed his eyes, feeling his heart shatter onto the floor. How could the love of his life think that? How could she think that she mattered so little to him when there was nothing he wouldn't do for her? All she had to do was ask.
"You've always known that?" He repeated incredulously, hoping that it was just the past few months that played against him, and not how she truly felt.
"Yes. Whether it was when I was under your employment, or when we got back together, I have always known my place, Christian. Grace may have stolen number two, but work will always be number one and three and I have no business on that podium. You love your job and you appreciate me."
This certainly caused him to open his eyes. He grasped her face with both his hands as he growled, "That's not true!"
"It is and you know it. Otherwise, you would have been home more often. You would have taken me on real dates. You would have given me at least one day out of the two we spent in Dubai. You've never given me as much attention as you give to your work. The only person who can stop you from working is Grace. It has never been me, and it never will be."
"You want me to stop working?" He asked, ready to do anything that she would ask. He would think of the logistics later on. He could work from home if she wanted him to be more present. He could…
"No. I want you to stop living on this cloud where you think I'm the love of your life. At best, I'm your mistress."
Another slap in the face for him. He wanted to cry. It was much worse than what he had read in her diary. She didn't just feel lonely and not listened to, she didn't feel love.
"Is that really how you feel?"
"It's the reality of us, Christian. I don't matter that much to you. It's okay. You don't have to pretend. I've made peace with it."
Christian closed his eyes again, refusing to cry in front of her again as he sat back on his heels. How had things gone so wrong? How did he go from him being so happy just a week ago and on his way to propose, to the woman he loved thinking he treated her like a mistress and being content with that?
"How…how can you even think that?"
"Because you said so, time and time again. My dreams don't matter, my job doesn't matter, my feelings don't matter, my aspirations don't matter. Even my gifts don't matter. So why should I think that I matter? What am I without all of those? I'm just a nice accommodation that makes your life better."
His lower lip trembled, and he once again had to close his eyes to stop himself from tearing up. She did tell him that she was feeling lonely, but he dismissed it, just like he dismissed her doubts when it came to Grace and her education, just like he dismissed the importance of her job and charity work.
But…he loved her. Unlike her, he had told her repeatedly that he loved her, that she was the best thing that ever happened to him, that she was the love of his life. Surely, his word had some weight. He had always been a man of his word, and she knew that.
"Is that really what you think? That you don't matter to me?" He asked, his voice wavering under the emotion.
"I'm just being realistic, Christian."
"Is that why you never told me that you love me?"
"I love you," she simply said, pecking his lips and he snapped his eyes open, fire burning in the honey of his eyes.
"You don't mean it," he accused, a tear rolling from the corner of his eye. "How can you think that I don't love you?" He choked on his tears but didn't let go of her face.
"You're the love of my life! I meant every word I said yesterday! Do you think I would have had this speech for anyone? I didn't do it to capitalise on it! I did it because I love you!"
She grimaced under the pressure his hands had on her face, and he slightly loosened his grip on her, though he kept her precious face in his hands. He looked deep into the blue of her eyes, hating that she was still so calm and resolved. It was like she wasn't feeling anything like she was just explaining something to a small child. He would have rather she screamed at him.
"And that's your idea of love, then? Embarrassing me in front of people I don't know?"
He paled. All he had thought about at that moment was to let her and the world know how he felt. She might have told him about her discomfort of public display of attention, but she never objected to it.
"I was just telling you how much I love you. Who cares about the rest of them?"
"I do, because I'm the one facing the consequences of such a 'gesture'. And nonetheless, you know how uncomfortable I am with that kind of a display. But you still did it.
Love isn't forcing the other to see and accept your feelings. It's also understanding the other, their fears, their insecurities and cater to them.
I did that for you. I told Jamie to stay away because you were uncomfortable. I made sure not to befriend men because you were jealous. I turned down a golden opportunity to make sure I could help children and make a change because of your feelings in the matter. I left my hometown for you, along with the only friends I have. I even accepted completely relying on you financially, even though it went against all my instincts.
When was the last time you did anything for me, Christian? Not for you, not for us or our family, not for your company, but for me?"
She waited for him to give her just one example, but he couldn't think of a single one. Everything he did, it had been for him or Grace or the company. Even when he went to see her in LA after Mary's death, it was because he had wanted to prove to her he could be there for her, not just because she had needed him.
He watched her close her eyes and take a deep breath. She was stronger than him, she was not going to cry in front of him, not when he had hurt her so much, not when she had so little faith in his love for her.
"And every time I tried to tell you how I felt, every time I tried to tell you that I needed more than two seconds of your presence but actually your support, you dismissed me. It's all in my head, right? I'm not lonely or insecure or unsure, I'm just overthinking.
And the sad thing is…I hate myself for it. Because I am too deep in this relationship. I hate myself for loving you so much. Because the truth is, if anyone I knew was in this exact situation, I would have told them to get out of this toxic relationship. I've been in this situation once, and I never wanted to go back down, but here I am. Stupid and weak, not even strong enough to show my own baby what I should actually do."
Christian didn't even know how he was breathing. He felt as if his lungs had left him. All the things no man ever wanted to hear from the mouth of the woman he loved, they were all here. And he had no idea how to fix it. He had no idea how to make her believe in him again. She was so calm, so resigned, so…unfeeling.
But worse, there was this feeling that she was saying goodbye, that she was leaving him, and he couldn't bear it.
"What are you saying? We can work on it!"
"Can we? You're going to be here for a month, all loving and sweet, and then my heart will break again. You don't know how to love. You don't even know how to accept someone's saw."
"Don't say that," He begged, closing his eyes to hide his hurt. He loved her. She just needed to tell him what to do to prove to her that he did.
"Don't say that. I love you, you're all my life. Tell me what to do. I'll do whatever you want, but don't leave."
She gently took his hands, which were still clutching her face, and pried them away, keeping them in hers as she said with her soft voice,
"It's okay, I told you already. I forgot my place for a moment. Give me some time and I will get back to it."
This sounded so much like a goodbye. He opened his eyes, clasping her hands in his as he said with panic, "Ana, you can't leave me! You can't leave us! What about us? What about Grace? I want to marry you! I want to have kids with you!"
And finally, Ana's face showed something more than her calm serenity. Her poker face crumbled, leaving place to…a ghost. He was seeing the Ana she had been hiding under her sweet smile and soft-spoken words. And as Jamie said, she was a ghost. It even seemed that her face suddenly became more hollowed, her eyes even more lost in their sockets, her cheekbones sticking out in a worrying way.
She raised her hand, ready to slap him but she never gave suit to her move. Instead, she clutched her fist to her chest, suddenly struggling to breathe as Christian couldn't deny what he was witnessing: her heart was literally breaking.
A small sob escaped her lips before she put more distance between them and she curled up in the foetal position and said in a sad whisper, "You're a cruel man, Christian Grey."
He had never seen her act like that, and a part of him wondered if this was just a nightmare. The way she phased from impassable to…ghoulish was frightening. But her broken voice was even more terrifying. He had wanted some emotions, but now, he would give anything to get back to her calm and unfazed voice.
"Ana, babe..." He reached out to touch her arm. She turned to show him her back, but he saw the way her shoulders shook. She was crying.
"How low do you think you can drag me, Christian? Is it not enough that you took my life away? Now you have to drag my dreams against me, just like you did my daughter?"
"No, Ana…I do want kids," he swore. This was a conversation he had wanted to have with her, but admittedly, he hadn't been home often enough to do so.
"And why would I have more kids with someone who's never home? With someone who thinks that spending time with his family is a waste if he can't capitalise on it? With someone who doesn't even remember a simple promise he made to his daughter! Why would I impose that on another child? I am not that cruel, Christian Grey."
He winced at the implication, feeling that it was unwarranted to call him cruel when all he wanted was to extend their family. He had his flaws, but he would work on them.
"I'll be here more often," he promised.
"No, you won't. Because you said it yourself, you are selfish. You'll be here for a while and when you'll feel Grace has forgiven you, you'll go back to your first love."
"You are my love," he countered, refusing to admit to her stupid logic of a podium. She was his everything, and he would be damned if she didn't realise this.
She let out a dark disbelieving chuckle, wrapping her arms around herself to bring some sort of warmth or stability to herself as she venomously lashed out at him.
"Am I? I only asked one thing of you: for you to treat me like an equal. But you can't even think of that. Because my career is not as important as yours, because my aspirations are laughable, because I have no family unlike you. And…I gave myself to you, Christian. Body, heart and soul. But because it wasn't in the way you wanted, you made me feel like…It wasn't enough.
You keep saying that you love me, but you never showed me that you did. Even our lovemaking has become more about you, than about us…I feel…I lost your respect, because when we were under contract, you would at least listen to me when I would talk to you, you would respect my choices instead of imposing your opinions, using my daughter to prove your point, you would…actually open the goddamn gifts I gave you, instead of letting them collect dust."
Christian glanced at the nightstand where the deck of cards from Dubai was hidden, and he tried to take Ana in his arms, but she refused. He had been meaning to open the decks and play with them together with her at some point, but he had been too busy.
For what seemed like forever, they remained like this, until Ana got up, her back still facing him. She tore the sheet from the bed and wrapped herself in it, her shoulders still shaking with silent sobs, but when she spoke, her voice was strong and clear of tears.
"Please, if you love me as you pretend you do, respect me enough to give me the time and space I need to regain my composure. I'll be back to normal in no time. Just give me that and it will be as if this weekend never happened. I'll be back to normal. I'm sorry about tonight."
Christian watched her walk away, and his heart finally faded to dust. This was wrong on so many levels. For a moment, he considered going after her, but he had no idea what to tell her. She didn't listen because he had broken her too many times.
So, he walked to his nightstand, taking the deck of cards that she had wanted him to open so many times, and then he walked out of the bedroom, unable to stay a moment longer in the room she had deserted.
He considered going to his office, but as he walked there, he heard her sobs coming from the library, and so, he decided to go to his actual office, the deck of cards safely in the pocket of his coat. He couldn't bear listening to her cry all night long because of him.
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.~°~. .~°~. .~°~.
đź’šYour thoughts and opinions are always welcomedđź’š
đź’š So, did you cry? I'm sorry if you did. It was hard for me to write as well.
💚 And there is no flashback here on purpose, because … I didn't want to ruin the continuity of the angst XD (evil)
đź’šNow question time,
1. Okay, let's start with something positive … Grace? The ring is ugly, and she let out a little something…
2. We finally had the convo you all have been waiting for. And as Ana said, she did try to talk to him. Once again, I never claimed Christian to be a reliable narrator.
3. And how do you feel about Ana and her moods in that chapter?
4. And a few of you got what is happening to Ana, and many others are ready to blame it all on her, so I can't wait to read how this is all her fault.
5. And how do you feel about Christian? Hihi
6. As per usual, what was your favourite part? AND a twist, what was your most heartbreaking moment? Mine was the "You're a cruel man."
7. And what do you think will happen next?
đź’š E L James owns the names of the characters from the Fifty Shades franchise, Everything else is mine (including the mistakes and grammar errors).
Love, Mina đź’šđź’šđź’š