I wake up as dawn breaks, blinded by the sunlight pouring in to my room
I'll need blackout curtains to prevent this again.
I reach for my phone to check the time, 5:34 am illuminates in front of my sore eyes. I rub them taking note of the puffiness. It's my first day of work at SIP and I need to look like I haven't spent the last twenty-four hours crying.
I can do this, I can do this.
I get up slowly, my head pounding, and go to the bathroom. Running a brush through my knotted chestnut hair, staring at myself in the mirror. I can't even recognize the girl staring back at me. Pale skin, eyes protruding veins, and bloodshot. I decide on a high bun, wrapping the elastic around my hair, and realize I need makeup to hide the heartbreak that is screaming from every pore of my face. I rummage through a crate left in the bathroom from packing. I pull out Kate's makeup. I start gently hiding the dark rings underneath my eyes, put some eye drops in and give myself some neutral eyeshadow, brushing on some mascara, and finishing with clear lip gloss across my cracked lips. I reach for the compact blush and start applying it to my cheeks. My breath catching in my throat. Just moments ago real blush was displayed across my cheeks in pleasure, now replaced with tear stains and pillow lines...
I shake my head and will myself not to cry, not again, not now. I have to hold it together for work. I exit the bathroom into the hallway, the apartment feels so eerie without Kate, packing boxes litter the whole apartment. T wooden floor creaks below me as I make my way to the stove to heat up the kettle for some warm tea. I gingerly unpack my teacups from the kitchen along with the Twinnings English breakfast tea box. The tea kettle rings. The corners of my lips rise slightly at pleasant memories of Ray making tea for me as a child entered my mind.
Tea fixes everything, I can almost hear him say.
I pour the steaming liquid into my cup and submerge the bag, bringing the warm liquid to my lips. My eyes move to look at the exposed brick walls. I feel numb. Tea, as it turns out does not fix everything.
Silence is overwhelming, and it's the first time I have felt that way. A few weeks ago I was a total introvert. I preferred silence when studying, when driving, and when enjoying a good book. What used to give me great solitude, is now my nemesis. Silence encourages thoughts that I do not want, to run astray. The events from last night start flashing through my head and I can't stop them.
"You're a fucked up son of a bitch Christian."
his belt across my skin as I prayed quietly for it to end.
the elevator doors closing, the last time I would see his beautiful eyes.
I quickly put the teacup down on the counter with a slam trying to wake myself out of these thoughts, the cup shatters instantly, pieces of the glass falling at my feet.
Fuck
a piece of glass has sliced my inner palm. Blood quickly rises to the surface and starts cascading down my arm. I remove the glass from my hand wincing and rush my hand over to the sink turning the faucet on. Coldwater stings my palm and red water swirls down the drain. I examine my injury. It's deep but small. I hold a towel against the gash until the bleeding has slowed down. I go back into the bathroom, find some cotton bandages, and wrap my palm in bandage wrap. glancing at the clock on the way.
Shit
7:45 am displays across my screen, I head to my closet. I slide on my satin navy blue shirt, it has a tie on the front and the sleeves hang just past my elbows. I quickly pull up my charcoal pencil skirt and slide on my high heeled boots and head to the door.
Some first day this will be...
I arrive at the front desk of SIP to find out where I need to go.
"Are you Anastasia Steele?"a petite voice rings from behind the counter.
I glance up at the girl in front of me, she has a blonde bob, bright pink lipstick, and a stylish white and black pantsuit on.
"Yes, I am!" I say enthusiastically.
"Nice to meet you, my name is Claire, Mr. Jack Hyde is expecting you. Jack is on the 13th floor, the code is 1194." she points to the elevator to the left.
"Thank you," I say looking down and making my way over. I press for the 13th floor and type in the access code. Nerves are coursing through my body, my chest rising and falling rapidly. Must be the caffeine on an empty stomach.
My heels click across the tile floor as I exit the elevator. A few feet in front of me is admittedly a very handsome man who is leaning against his desk, arms folded looking over a folder. His dirty blonde hair is slicked back, black jeans clinging to his legs, and a loose black button-down shirt tucked in. He's wearing chucks and I relax immediately in his company.
He looks up.
"Ms. Steele." He extends a lanky arm and shakes my hand politely, he pauses looking at the bandages.
"Are you injured?" curiosity stirring in his blue eyes.
My cheeks flush with embarrassment.
"I had a small incident with a teacup this morning," I mutter.
A deep throaty laugh escapes his pursed lips.
"Well I hope you are able to type still, I need 4 reviews of the first chapters by noon today. I'll send those over to your email" He points to my desk that is just outside of his office.
"That shouldn't be a problem for me at all Mr. Hyde," I respond, sliding onto the rolling chair at my desk.
"Good, we have quite a day ahead of us!"
He turns on his heel and heads towards his office.
The day goes quickly as I learn about my new position, and learn who everyone is. I am unsettled by the fact that the 13th floor is just mine and Jack's office, no one else is around and it feels a bit desolate. I am comforted only by the familiar smell of books that fills the office. An Earthy smell lacing every breath I take in. At lunch, I get to investigate the rest of the 13th floor. I discover where the smell is radiating from. Off to the corner is a library. Columns of books stand higher than I can see, every shelf filled. I pick one up examining it, the cover is blank, and the pages dusty bound my leather.
"Found the personal library I see."
I turn around to see Jack against the door frame.
"What exactly is this place?" I ask, my eyes wandering the tall towers of books as I pace back and forth.
"This is where every version of anything we have published goes." He starts walking closer to me.
I nod in approval, his hand gently touches mine as he takes the book, I cringe at the contact.
I don't want anyone touching me. It's a hard limit.
"This for example is the first edition of a young author, Kendrick Anthony, who we published when we first opened," he says without even looking at it, he puts it back on the shelf.
"Do you remember every book that's been published here?" I ask.
He stares in concentration.
"I take pride in my impeccable memory, Ms. Steele, it's how I keep my job."
Our blue eyes meet briefly.
"Please call me Ana, I am impressed by your work ethic, I like someone who takes pride in their work." I glance down. I hate making eye contact.
"Well then, Ana, I think we'll make a really great team then. Please, Ana, call me Jack."
Jack heads back to his office and I am relieved to not have the pressure of his gaze on me any longer.
The rest of the week goes by quickly for me. I catch on to routine fast and Jack seems nice enough to work for, he is witty and involved, polite but very strict about work. He makes sure I stay busy. I am grateful for the distraction.
Friday arrives and I am sitting at my desk, ending my first week of work. I have survived one of the hardest weeks of my entire life, and that makes me feel hopeful. Jack takes a break from his office, taking a sip of his coffee and sighing.
"Ana, let me see that hand of yours." He pulls my bandaged hand toward his face and unwraps it.
"I haven't really checked it," I murmur.
My skin is bright pink beneath the bandage, part of the cut still open, as a white scar forms around it. Without warning, Jack presses his fingers into the cut. I don't pull back even though it hurts and turns my stomach.
"Looks like you're quite good at handling pain" Jack states, a dark smile flashing across his face.
I gulp, trying to rid my mind of all the thoughts that start consuming me about Christian.
"I pride myself in the impeccable way I manage my response to pain," I say looking at my shoes.
"Well, it looks like it's healing well enough." Jack gets a little too close for comfort, his lips in a tight line, clearly holding back what he's thinking. The phone rings just in time, and he leaves back to his office. Our interaction haunts the rest of my thoughts for the day, my relationship with pain and pleasure is now a complicated one. Why didn't I respond to the pain? a sickening thought crawls into my head
because I deserve the pain now.
I am relieved to get back home and have a weekend to gather myself. On my way back to the apartment I pick up a few bottles of cheap wine and some basic ingredients for stir fry. I open the bottle of white wine as soon as I enter the apartment. I am too overwhelmed to rummage around for the wine glasses and take a swig from the bottle directly. My palate has been spoiled, the pinot grigio is tart and makes me purse my lips and cough.
I turn the stovetop on to make the stir fry. Start some music on my phone and try to distract myself of just how empty life feels right now. The liquid slides down my throat, starting a warming sensation in my belly. I sigh in relief, the burning in my stomach taking the thoughts off of the burning in my chest. I take another swig of the wine, and then another, and another. A song comes on that reminds me of Christian and a lump forms in my throat. Tears start pouring from my eyes. All week I have avoided this and yet here I am. Nothing left to stop my swarming thoughts of him, his embrace, his smell, his kiss, his warmth. I chug the bottle of wine trying to stifle my sobs, trying to drown the rising pain in me.
I give in, and slide down the fridge into my abyss. I let myself feel it, the guilt of not safe-wording, the shame of not being enough, the pain of him not loving me. Sobs come over my body in waves, I have never felt pain like this. My phone lights up suddenly and every part of me wants it to be Christian. My whole body tenses in disappointment as I realize it's a text from Jack.
"Come out for a drink? ;)"
"Sure" I text back without really thinking.
I groggily get off the floor and change into something more suitable for going out.
As I change into the plum dress that Christian loved, I become aware of just how drunk I am becoming. The world tilts, I ignore it and head down the elevator of my building.
I meet Jack about a block away from my apartment, perks of living so centrally, he is outside the bar smoking a cigarette when I approach. I am repulsed by the smell, letting out a raspy cough as I get closer to him.
"Ana.'' He greets me, and I think he is reaching for my hand to shake it. Instead puts his cigarette out on the back of my hand. The burn is intense and I shake my hand back and forth trying to get rid of the pain as embers fly off.
"WHAT THE FUCK JACK!" I hiss through my teeth gripping my hand to myself.
"I'm sorry, I'm a little tipsy already" He apologizes to me holding his hands up in defense.
I soften to him immediately.
"Sorry" I embarrassingly tuck a loose strand of hair out of my face, "I thought it was on purpose."
He looks a bit taken aback by my accusation.
"Jesus what type of men have you been seeing"
I brush off his comments.
he has no idea
The club is loud, it smells of sweat and booze. The flashing lights thumping with the heavily based music in the background. People are dancing, we head towards the dark mahogany bar in the back of the building.
I take a seat beside Jack, admiring my surroundings. This is the first time I have been out since moving here, the floor is made out of glittering tiles, it is pleasing to look at when the lights flash across it.
"I have been meaning to ask you a question!" Jack is yelling over the music to me.
"Yeah?" I lean closer to him to make sure I know what he is saying.
"There's a business trip going on next week to New York. I know it's last minute to ask you but I could really use you for some help." He throws back a shot, staring at me with wondering eyes.
I feel excited for the first time since the elevator doors closed in Escala.
"Yeah, that sounds fun. I've never been!" I answer, and take the celebratory shot he hands me.
Maybe some distance can heal this heart of mine.
"Good, pack a few days of clothes. We leave at 6:00 am on Monday morning" Jack slides his empty shot glasses back towards the bartender and hands him a generous tip.
We chat a little more about the logistics of the New York trip. Jack is attentive to my suggestions about where I think we should go and what we should do in our free time. I am blabbing on about publishing houses I want to see, and sights I need to see when Jack scrunches his face.
"Wait, did you say you haven't ever been to New York?"
"Yeah, never, why?"
"I mean your family lives there." He answers me.
I start going through the list in my head of the various family members I have.
"No, Jack, I don't."
His eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh, uhm nevermind." He murmurs.
"Jack, why do you think I have family in New York?"
"Ana, I don't want to intrude, but I did run a background check on you since we would be working so closely together. The report said your parents live in New york."
"No, maybe you got my name wrong."
and Christian would have mentioned all of this to me
"Maybe..." He trails off and changes the subject, but I take note to ask my mom if any family lives in New York.
The next morning I am painfully aware of how little I have had to eat the last week. My head is spinning. I get up but my vision blurs and I find myself back on the floor. I finally start heating up the stir fry I was going to make the night before. I take a few bites but my stomach turns. Food has not agreed with me lately, it's like my taste buds are gone. However even just a little bit of food makes a huge difference, and my head clears. My phone lights up with a call from Jack and I answer quickly hoping it's not work-related.
"Ana, I thought I should make you aware that your friend is harassing me," Jack says, his voice dripping in sarcasm.
"Excuse me?" my heart leaping into my throat, thinking it's Christian.
"Yes, Ms. Kavannagh has called in quite a panic, saying you haven't answered her all week."
"Oh," I say, my voice evident with disappointment.
"I'll call her, sorry Jack" I quickly hang up to dial Kate.
Kate answers with absolute relief.
"Ana, where have you been?!" Kate yells at me.
"I'm sorry Kate I don't see any messages from you?" I say while scanning my phone for evidence she has tried to contact me. I noticed a setting on my phone that she is silenced and blocked.
"I have a new phone Kate. I am still figuring it out, sorry." I mumble, going down my list of contacts on who else is blocked. It's then I notice that everyone in my phone is blocked.
"Elliot told me that you and Christian broke up," Kate says sympathetically to me, bringing me back to reality.
At least he's telling them there was even something to break up.
"Yeah, I don't want to talk about it, please Kate."
"Oh Ana, please, if you need anything ask me okay?" and her kindness brings tears to my eyes, I miss my best friend. I miss not being alone in my apartment.
"I think I'll need to borrow those pink Pajamas of yours." my voice breaks.
"Oh Ana, most people feel heartbreak earlier on in life, it is devastating, please call more."
"I will, thank you, Kate, enjoy yourself, really," I say confidently, clearing my voice. We agree to hang up and have more contact while I am in New York with Jack.
When I hang up with her I make sure to unblock Christian first, in case he has tried to text me. Nothing comes through, I stare at my phone for over an hour, but there is still nothing.
I bet he doesn't even miss me, I bet he has a new submissive.
The thought is too painful to fully imagine.
My conversation with Jack plays in the back of my mind about my family. I quickly press my mom's contact.
"Ana Sweetheart." My mom answers lovingly from the other end.
"Mom." I feel relieved to hear her voice, it is soothing and soft, and everything I need at this moment. I want to tell her about Christian and about the break up but I want to get the reason I called out of the way first.
"Mom, did you ever live in New York with Dad?"
I hear a slight gasp from the other end of the phone, a minute of silence before she finally answers.
"Ana, honey, there is something I need to tell you."
I wait for what her next words will be, heart-thumping erratically against my ribcage.
"I couldn't have kids naturally Ana."
I gulp, still waiting.
"Mom am I adopted?"
"I am so sorry Ana" my mom starts to cry, but I am in too much shock processing the words she just told me to comfort her.
"Yes," she whispers between sobs.
"But mom, I look just like you." I am overcome with disbelief.
"Sometimes that just happens, baby."
She is still heavily sobbing, waiting for me to talk.
"Okay, mom please calm down. I am not angry, just overwhelmed. I need you to help me answer some questions"
"I'll answer anything you need me too," I think about what I want to ask the most, I don't want to make her cry again.
"Does Ray know, I mean not like it matters because we know I wasn't his but-"
"No, he doesn't"
I sigh in relief, at least he hasn't also been lying to me.
"Okay, thank you...how old was I when you adopted me"
"You were 3 months old."
"Okay, and how is this not a public record how has this never come up until now?" surely school, or work or.. Christian would have found this out by now.
"The people who gave you to me, they paid a lot of money. I had to sign paperwork saying you were born to me, we hid it" her voice is shaky.
"Do you know who they are?"
"No, Honey, I never saw them, your dad, he knew them but we never talked about it. I was just so happy to have you, it's never mattered Ana, you are mine, you are still mine."
"I am, mom, I am still yours. It's okay." I say as her voice breaks into another sob.
"Wait, Ana, how did you find out?"
"My new boss, he brought it up. It has started showing up on a background report mom"
"Maybe they are trying to contact you now." her voice has a tinge of jealousy in it.
"Mom, you are my mom, always." I bite my lip and take a deep breath.
"Mom, would you care if I wanted to meet them?" I am nervous about her response and opening the floodgates again.
"No, Ana, I wouldn't, if they are trying to reach out in some way, it's your right. I am sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"It's okay Mom, I love you, I have to go. I am packing for New York. I incidentally have a business trip coming up there Monday, I'll let you know what I find out... if you want to know that is."
"I would like to know too, I need to thank the people who gave me the best thing I have in my life," she responds gently, and we hang up.
New York is going to be interesting.
