Author's Note: I know by some reviews that people are struggling to see the romance and the possibility of an HEA. The NY trip is a turning point. Trust me. That's all I'm asking. It's all mapped out in my mind but I promise, we are there during the next few chapters. Absolutely promise. Control needs to be resolved. Compromises need to be reached.

A Guest Reviewer wrote:

Don't take this as an attack on your writing! But I'm a reader and I have the option to leave a comment! FYI. Just like I said before your Ana is a bitch! There is a difference between being a strong, independent young woman and a bitch! [Author's note: there was plenty more said which I don't disagree with, but I have my reasons for traveling the road I'm traveling on in this story. For the full review, see the posted reviews as it's there.]

My response:

First and foremost – Thank you for your review. I was not offended by it in the least. I wanted to make sure you, and anyone who read this author's note understood that. In the not too recent past, I had received a few very attacking reviews on my writing (from one person) because the person felt Ana was a bitch in my story. Someone I was beta-reading for had a worse experience that same week. Stating my version of Ana being a bitch doesn't bother me – it's intentional for a reason. It was when that person intentionally took the time to slam me as a person, writer, etc… and attempted to belittle and degrade me that I took offense. You clearly aren't doing that, so I thank you! Yes there should be more comedy and romance being the categories I selected as an author. I'm getting there. I know, it's been a long road (sorry).

My vision of Ana in this story is she's somewhat a product of her past, and she's not quite as serene, and meek in my story, though those traits do exist in her. New York is the turning point or breaking point as the case may be. In my mind, both characters are damaged, inexperienced in relationships, and in Ana's case – overwhelmed with everything around her, including her own past. Damaged people sometimes equals annoying defense mechanisms. How I ended chapter 25 was intentional, as I knew the next chapter was the turning point chapter.

That said - I hope you keep reading, but the choice is purely yours. I know when I read a book and a character annoys me, I tend to stop. So if you do, I understand.

XXX

Chapter 26 – Kaleidoscope of Darkness

"Come on Kate, answer your damned phone," I mutter as I pace the elegant bedroom. There's no one else I can call about this and I need advice. It's not like I can call Flynn at this ungodly hour. It's not even dawn in Seattle. Finally Kate's phone goes to voicemail. Swearing I head into the bathroom and run a bath. Hopefully that will relax me, because right now I feel borderline psychotic and out of control. I'm a fish out of water. Well, a now crying, messed up, fish out of water. "Crap!"

Before the tub is a quarter full, my phone rings and I turn off the tap. "Kate?" I sob into the receiver.

"What's wrong Ana? Are you okay? Is Christian okay? What about the security team?" Kate is instantly awake and there is no missing the concern in his voice. I can hear Elliot in the background asking her what is going on.

"I'm a fucked up mess, but everyone else is fine," I sob realizing I'm not on speakerphone with Kate and Elliot.

"Anastasia Steele – potty mouth. I never thought I'd see the day where you were cursing openly and loudly," Kate laughed half-heartedly. "What's wrong sweetie?"

"I feel like … I don't know what I feel because I don't feel each thing long enough to do more than just over-react, fuck everything up, and then move on to the next psychotic emotion. I feel like my head is in a toilet and it's constantly being flushed – always on the edge of a massive panic attack with the adrenaline coursing through me."

"Where's Christian?" Elliot asked.

"Probably avoiding me like the plague and I don't blame him. Things were going good with Christian until Sawyer told me this mess might not be over. The ambush outside Flynn's office just fucked with my head even more. I have no point of reference on how to manage my emotional life and I feel like I'm drowning. I want the old me back. I try to keep control of everything but I'm a fucking disaster. I can't turn my brain off. It's constantly running back through husband number three, the attacks, and … well stuff with Christian. Part of me wants to be involved with him because he's awesome and complex, yet part of me fears his complexity because it triggers my issues. When I overreact, we're like two positives on a magnet trying to connect."

"Go on," Kate whispered. "Get it out."

"I have no dating and relationship experience at all. Ray and my mom dated when I was a toddler at best, so I don't remember that. And let's be real, my mom's dating history since then has been disastrous, so I'm afraid."

"Afraid of what?" Elliot asks.

"Being like her. She did her best to marry up financially. I don't want anyone to be able to think that, yet here I am dating a billionaire. It's why I've worked so hard to earn my own way these past few months."

"You can't help who you fall in love with Ana," Kate informed me. "If his money is an issue for you, well, keep building your company. If you end up marrying him get a pre-nup – insist on it so it's clear you initiated it and want none of his money, but understand this now, while you are dating – Christian Grey is worth over thirty billion dollars. His life revolves around security, which means CPOs, secure living facilities, secure vehicles, and more than anything else, securing his family."

"And," Elliot added, "by virtue of dating him, that applies to you. Your stance on his money and security are something you'll have to let go because if you were to push it and something happened to him because he agreed to it, you wouldn't be able to live with yourself. It's why we all put up with the extra security and crap from him."

"I feel like I need to escape," I mutter.

"Escape to where?" Kate asks.

"All I want to do is be out in the sticks, in a small house with a huge garden and library so I can get my hands dirty, read, and not think about anything. I just want to turn my brain off and escape into what I would consider paradise alone. It's less complicated that way," I mumble.

"And Christian? Do you see him in your paradise?" Kate asks.

"I don't see him there, but I want him there. More than anything I want him there."

"So make the paradise in your mind and the house slightly larger with invisible security, and enjoy it with my baby bro," Elliot laughs. "First and foremost, do you trust Christian?"

I can't help it. I start crying my eyes out and not quietly.

"Ana, take a few deep breaths for me," Kate whispers in an attempt to soothe me. After a few seconds, she continues. "Tell me your number one fear when it comes to this relationship."

"Pushing him away because of my own fucked up fears."

"And number two?"

"Losing myself and becoming someone I'm terrified of becoming in order to keep him happy."

"And third?"

"Him leaving me because I expect him to not be the person he was when we first met because it unnerved me."

"What do you mean?" Elliot asked.

"I can't explain it. I can but I can't."

"Why not? Is it because of the NDA?" Kate insisted.

I know they can't see me shrug before I finally reply bordering on hysterical, "Yes and no. Even if I hadn't signed it, I wouldn't elaborate."

"Ana," Elliot begins. "I take it you are locked away in one of the bedrooms of the New York townhouse. Go lay down on the bed, close your eyes, and take a few deep breaths for me."

"Okay" I do as Elliot says and when I feel calmer I add, "okay, now what?"

"Without giving away any details, I want you to close your eyes and tell us about the Christian you know. Describe his personality, his strengths, and his weaknesses using one word for each trait."

"Sweet … loyal … kind … fun … complicated … lost … vulnerable …controlling … jealous … lonely … worry-wart … caring … sheltered … naive … self-loathing … insecure ... socially-awkward"

"What about: overbearing, arrogant, nasty, pushy, and an asshole?" Elliot chuckles.

"He's none of those things," I snap at him.

He just keeps laughing. "So, you seem to have a good measure of my brother."

"Remind you of anyone?" Kate asked interrupting him.

"I've never met anyone quite like him before."

They both laugh at me. Assholes.

"We can use most of those same words to describe you," Elliot teases me. "So, do you trust Christian?"

"I suffer from foot and mouth disease," I mumble sadly. "For the most part I trust him."

"What percentage out of one hundred?" Kate asks.

"Ninety- five."

"So what's the issue with trust?" Elliot asks uncertainly.

"The fact that I told him I trust the security team more," I explain sadly. "I mean I do trust them more as I've spent a great deal of time with them and some of them, other than Luke, have been there through some pretty awful times lately, but I still shouldn't have said that to Christian. It's because of him I had the security that ended up becoming a support system of sorts for me."

"Were you trying to push him away?" Kate inquired.

"I have no idea. I think so but it's like looking into a funnel cloud."

"Does the missing five percent have to do with the day he took you to Escala?" Elliot asked.

"New topic please," I plead.

"I'll take that as a yes," Elliot comments. "Trust me when I say, whatever it was, let it go because he's not the same guy he was back then. Whatever happened between you two made him open his eyes. For the first time since we were little kids, I feel like I have my brother back and it all stems from that time. Call it his ah-ha moment."

"Really?"

I hear Kate laugh. "Really Ana. I've been dating Elliot since that time. I watched him back then not show up to family dinners or show up only to leave as quickly as possible. Now he stays the entire time and spends time with his family. He even laughs, which at first was creepy as all fuck. Hell, even he seemed shocked that he enjoyed himself. When we first met he wasn't my favorite person and I wasn't his but he's actually awesome. It was amusing to watch him change."

"What do I do Kate? The only relationships I've ever watched as they happened were yours, so I've been trying to follow your example."

"First, be yourself and stop trying to be a less pushy, less opinionated unless you are discussing literature or politics, less direct version of me. That's not who you were or are. Once you stop doing that and be your generally gentle, soft-spoken, calm, direct self, it will go smoother. You're afraid. I get it. When we moved in together our first year of college, my father hoped you'd mellow me out and somehow you did. You grounded me. Relationships, especially first ones, are scary because you don't know the rules. Your situation is more complicated because of who he is and both of your respective pasts. Elliot and I aren't the best ones to give advice on relationships as we're working our way through this as we go, but you might want to talk to Flynn about it since both you and Christian both are his patients. He might be able to sit down with you guys and give you not only an outlet because of the messed up situation in terms of security, but he might be able to help you guys communicate better. Who knows, maybe even provide coping mechanisms to help both of you stop from over-reacting. It's a shared trait."

"You really think we are alike?"

Kate and Elliot both laugh before Elliot responds. "I remember the first day my parents brought Christian home. He was four, but was ridiculously small for his size. I'll never forget those big grey eyes looking at me in a combination of fear, uncertainty, oddly innocent, excitement, and shock. You had the same look in your eyes at West Union, with the excitement coming in whenever you glanced at Christian and he was looking back at you. Christian spent his entire life after his adoption trying to keep himself from getting attached to us. He was a miserable failure at it. It was a combination of fear of losing us and not feeling like he deserved to be happy. So he got attached to us, especially Mia, and then punished himself by keeping his distance. He was this screwed up little kid who just needed a hug and wouldn't allow it. He hid himself behind isolation and darkness. It's nice to see him finally take steps into the light and embrace it.

"I met you before the accident Ana," he continued. "Granted I didn't know you well, but I saw you change almost overnight. You've pulled away from everyone except Ray and Luke but even them, you keep somewhat at arms length. Stop distancing yourself from people because in the end it's not just you who end up suffering, like Christian did, but also the people who care about you. You've buried yourself in work either locked behind your bedroom door, at the hardware store, or volunteering. You don't mind your health in terms of getting enough sleep. You were tiny when I first met you, but you're ten pounds lighter now and you need to eat three healthy meals per day, not the one with an ice cream chaser you've been eating since you have been back in Seattle. You are an amazing cook, yet you rarely eat your creations. Maybe what you don't need is more time with Flynn, but rather more time with friends and family just enjoying life. Let your proverbial hair down and allow yourself to be part of a group."

"Lou Holt once said," Kate adds, "Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent of how you respond to it." She pauses for a moment. "Making new positive experiences moving forward is the best way to give the proverbial fuck you to husband number three and anyone else that did you wrong in the past. You deserve to be happy Ana, but if you don't allow yourself to be that way, there's nothing anyone can do."

"It's overwhelming," I sigh quietly.

"Go find Christian and talk to him. Explain what you are feeling," Elliot softly pleads. "More than anyone else, he'll understand."

"Are you sure?"

"Beyond a shadow of a doubt," he replies. After a brief pause he adds, "You know it's about five thirty here now. You owe us a breakfast when you get back. We expect your Challah French Toast, bacon, a small omelet, and a cup of your chocolate-chili cappuccino."

"And a batch of your milk chocolate-covered madeleines," Kate adds.

"Thank you for talking me off the emotional ledge. I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

"Honestly Ana, we've been waiting for you to hit your breaking point. We've been worried about you and saw it coming," Kate informs me. "When you are back in Seattle, we'll do a girl's night slumber party at the apartment with Mia. Think of it as a last hurrah before Elliot and I move into the new house. And if security is still an issue, we can do it at West Union or Escala so Christian keeps his hair on."

"I'd like that."

"Have you slept lately?" Kate asks with motherly concern.

"I fell asleep in the car after the flight and I woke up in a bed at the townhouse a dozen hours later."

"Good," Kate replied happily. "Now go find Christian and really talk to him about the whirlwind that is running through you mind. You'll feel better once you do. I promise."

"I will and thanks."

Anastasia Steele is the single most frustrating woman I've ever met. Fuck! I can't help but pick up the phone and dial Flynn's cell phone. Yes, it's barely past four-thirty a.m. in Seattle. Screw it! I pay Flynn enough to take my call at this time.

"Christian," he mutters half asleep. "What can I do for you this morning, for lack of a better word?"

It takes me a minute, but I explain what happened between Ana and I earlier. After he berates me for being jealous when I know there is nothing going on between her and any security team member other than friendship, he insists I go talk to her – privately and behind closed doors. I need to be open, straightforward, and honest. Nothing less will do. She needs to do the same, though I feel in many ways, she has. Now how do I begin this conversation? Hmm…

After a minute of searching online on my phone, I take a few minutes to email Anastasia a link to one of my all time favorite John Lennon songs, Jealous Guy, and write her a note.

Dearest Anastasia,

I apologize for over-reacting and being jealous of Taylor comforting you. According to Flynn, I need to work on my interpersonal skills, which are lacking when it comes to relationships. I searched the Internet for 'lacking interpersonal skills' and found the following:

"Interpersonal skills are how a person reacts to others. When a child hits, gets angry with others, or goes away with hurt feelings, it shows a lack of interpersonal skills. A person without these skills cannot get along with his or her playmates well. Either the child will try to dominate others, or will attempt to get away from the group. In simpler times, this evaluation was 'does not play well with others'."

Clearly this describes me to a tee. I'm used to certain emotions, anger for one, loathing is another. According to Flynn, I tend to aim these at myself all of the time and at others when I'm not in control. It's not good. I know. I've spent the better part of the last six months trying to find other ways to cope other than submissives, anger, and basically sometimes being a jerk. (Yes, I admit it!).

For the past few weeks… no months, since the day you fell into my office for the interview, I was physically and emotionally attracted to you. If I'm honest here, I've never been emotionally attached, well romantically attached, to someone before. This is new ground for me, so when I felt jealous, which I've been feeling any time a guy is near you since the day we met, well, it's a new emotion for me and I wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Rational me understands and accepts that there is nothing going on between you and any member of the security team. Insecure, emotional me, well, he's another story – green with jealousy, envy, and like an eight year old without interpersonal skills, I don't want to share my toys. No, you aren't a toy to me, but it's a decent analogy. Flynn has told me repeatedly over the past few months that my self-loathing causes my own self-sabotage, especially when it comes to you. Honestly, I thought he was nuts, but I see it quite clearly now. I apologize for being over the top jealous.

When it comes to control and my need for it, well, that one is easier explained away, though it still doesn't make my being a control freak right. Again, it's something I'm working on, though if I'm honest, I doubt I'll ever get completely over it as it's an innate part of me. In the years before Grace and Carrick adopted me at the age of four, I lived with my birth mother. She wasn't a great mother. Heck, to refer to her as a mother at all is being generous. She was a prostitute and a drug addict who allowed her pimp to not only beat and torture her, but her only child. I spent four days locked in the apartment with her dead body when finally the pimp came, found her, called the authorities, and left.

Grace was the pediatrician that treated me in the emergency room. The Grey's adopted me even though I was severely damaged emotionally and physically; well, I was malnourished, burned, and beaten. Sometimes I wonder which scars are worse, the emotional or physical ones. The only scars I have on my body are from the cigarette burns from the pimp on my chest and back. It's why I have touch issues there. They are the outward reminder of those times. Yet, the more I've learned about myself with Flynn these past few months, I'm leaning toward the emotional damage being equal to that of an F5 tornado and I'm only now beginning to really dig out.

Carrick and Grace had the patience of saints when dealing with me back then, as I didn't utter a word for the first two years I lived at Bellevue, but that's another story for another time. My need for control and safety stems from those first four years. Flynn says all kids love their mothers from birth and my need for control and keeping people safe is from not being able to keep her safe. Rationally, it sounds right; emotionally, well when I look inward it's like looking through a kaleidoscope of darkness. You've brought light into my kaleidoscope for the first time and it's refracted a thicker light inward. It's allowed me to be closer to my family than I've ever been. For that I thank you more than you can possibly imagine.

With that said, a rumor has reached my ear that the point of your invite to me to accompany you to the Big Apple was so we could get to know each other and really talk. Since food is one of my issues and you missed breakfast, I invite you to a picnic brunch and a game of twenty questions in the television room commencing in fifteen minutes. We each will be allotted one pass on a question.

So Miss Steele, will you have mercy on my soul and join me?

Christian

And now I wait. God I hate waiting. Thank God it didn't take long. All I received was an email reply that read:

Game on my dearest Mr. Grey.

To me you are the ring to my Gollum.

You are my precious.

Ana - hoping she looks and smells better than Gollum

Fuck me! I'm her precious!

The smile glued on my face said it all as I rushed the security team to move the couch in front of the television back eight feet. In front of the couch I spread a warm blanket, picnic-style, on the carpet and then added some pillows. By the time that was done, Mrs. Lancaster wheeled in a small cart containing bagels, cream cheese, lox, carafes for coffee and hot water, tea bags, a bowl of fruit salad, bottles of water, and some bacon.

After a quick glance around the room, everything is perfect. My phone vibrates in my pocket and I automatically answer, "Grey."

"Hey bro, Buenos dias!" Elliot sounds way too chipper considering it's not quite six a.m. in Seattle.

"Is everything okay back home?"

"Your girl bottomed out about forty minutes ago and called Kate and I bawling her eyes out. She was a fucking mess. If she had been in Seattle, I'd have driven her to Flynn myself. We think she's doing better now, but you need to know, this entire situation is getting to her and she's not acting like herself, so if she talks to you about it, just listen and be supportive, no matter what she says. Promise me that," he finishes.

"Emotionally she's all over the place Elliot. All I want to do is be there for her and protect her, but it's almost like there's a war going on inside her at times. She can be tough, yet vulnerable; truthful, yet firm; and, hell, people say I'm mercurial."

Elliot laughs. "She's a good kid Christian. She's overwhelmed by the security issues; the thought of becoming like her mother or more accurately, people thinking she's like her mother; your money, which plays into the entire not being like her mother issue; and she cares about you a great deal but whatever happened between you two the night of her accident is lingering at the back of her mind. I'm not asking you for more details about what happened that night, so don't worry. All I'm saying is it's in the back of her mind lingering there like an old Tupperware container pushed to the back of the refrigerator. Throw in her issues from husband number three, as Ana calls him, and she's really struggling."

I hear Kate grab the phone from Elliot and she continues. "Christian, she's been meeting three times per week with Flynn but I know she's been holding back. She finally cracked. Just hold her and let her get it out. Don't push it. Just gently guide her into talking. Don't let her emotionally isolate herself. She's good at that. If you think you need me to fly out there, I can be there by tonight. Just send me a text and let me know."

"I will. She's coming, so we'll talk later," I reply hanging up when I see Ana heading into the room. There's no missing that she's been crying – her eyes are red and puffy, her cheeks are flushed, and she's still clutching a tissue in her hand. She looks broken. Even though I'm worried about her, I give her my best smile. "I'm glad you agreed to join me for brunch."

"I'm sorry I've been all over the place emotionally lately," she sighs as I put my arm over her shoulders and head her toward the picnic area. Once we get comfortable sitting on the floor reclining against the couch, she continues with her head against my shoulder. "Ever since the accident, I feel like I can't turn my brain off. It's why I've been sleep deprived for what lately feels like forever. The accident, the shooting, you, and trying to find my footing is a bit overwhelming, but when I add in all of the crap with husband number three that I never dealt with, but rather, locked away in the dark recesses of my brain and my mind has been constantly weaving an emotional basket linking the two and I feel like a dysfunctional mess. In a sink or swim scenario, well, I'm just ferociously trying to tread water. I avoided dating in high school and college because I choked down any type of attraction or desire because of number three. I've been attracted to you since the interview. It was your eyes that held my fascination. You were assertive, smart, and at times had mischief in those grey orbs – all of which were all kind of freaking hot, but there was also a vulnerability in them too, which I was able to relate to on some level I don't think I was even aware of at the time - again, sexy and all manner of hot. I knew when you walked me to the elevator afterward, that my life was somehow changing because the attraction I felt was unsettling because I couldn't build a wall around it in my mind and not feel it. Do you know how difficult that was to hide from Kate? She listened to the interview recording and she knew. As much as I tried to deny it to myself and to her, I couldn't. My denial-filled world started crumbling and I've been walking on marbles ever since."

"I can relate to that feeling of walking on marbles stemming from that day."

"You're a good man Christian. Intellectually I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. The day you showed me your playroom, I was scared to death. I saw the stuff on the walls and I panicked. When I tried to leave you touched my arm and in my mind's eye for a split second I was back in Texas and I reacted because the terror I felt then and choked down for years just bubbled over in one massive fight or flight reaction. Unfortunately for me, separating my emotions from my intellect has been difficult. I know you weren't trying to hurt me or make me remain in there. I imagine you took one look at my face, saw my panic and were trying to get me out of there, but I was already too far gone into the flashback to understand then. It's one of the few things I've worked out with Dr. Flynn over the past few months. It's the lack of control over that emotional part of the brain, along with its reflexive fight or flight reaction that at times has me unconsciously trying to push you away."

"Do you really want to push me away?" I'm not sure if I really want the answer to this question, but I need to know.

"Imagine I'm an LCD monitor with a bad pixel. The bad pixel is that emotional part of me that wants to push you away. Sometimes when you are watching TV and you know there is a bad pixel on the set, your minds eye is drawn to that one pixel and you can't tear yourself away from it. I trust you Christian. Luke and Jason remind me of younger versions of my dad, though I can't imagine Ray being the arrogant asshole Luke can sometimes be – it's a hilarious sight to behold. You brought this amazing security team into my life and they make me feel safe, which means you make me feel safe. You do. I trust you. I can't stress that enough. I'm ridiculously jealous when women flirted with you at Bubba's, though I hide it well. I've really enjoyed this past week, other than the incident outside Flynn's of course. One of the best times of my life was just spending time with you cooking and just hanging out. When you kissed me on the back deck I never felt anything like that before. In that moment, I wasn't thinking of number three, or the accident, or the entire messed up situation potentially not being over. All I could think about was you and it was amazing. Complete and total sensory overload. I felt cherished, safe, and alive."

Part of me is thrilled, yet terrified. How will she react when I finally air my dirty laundry – how I got into BDSM, what I did with my submissives, and Elena. I can already feel my panic welling up in me.

"Christian," she asks me softly. "Are you okay?"

"There's so much I have to tell you and frankly, I'm worried about how you will react."

"You're a good man Mr. Grey. I've done my homework on the BDSM lifestyle when it's practiced responsibly. It's basically an agreement based on trust or a contract between consenting adults. Was that how it was for you and your submissives? Well, other than an NDA of course," she asks sweetly as she relaxes against me and her eyes close.

Frankly I'm shocked that she's relaxing against me as we discuss my previous lifestyle. "Yes, except we had contracts that clearly outlined sexual limits and rules."

"That's logical," she murmurs before laughing to herself.

"What's so funny?"

"I just got the reference from your email about the eight year old trying to dominate," she giggles. "Guess I was a bit slow on the uptake. When I fell into your office that day, I expected to see someone around forty or fifty – you know, an old time captain of industry type. I had no idea who you were. When I saw standing there in that killer CEO suit, in your ivory tower office, I glanced at the Trouton paintings so you didn't see me struggle to shut my mouth, which fell open in shock at the site of you. Every time I looked at your eyes during that interview, I got to see another side of you. Mr. Grey, You are extraordinary and you are precious to me."