Chapter One
"But what if I never see you again?" Phoebe's eyes are magnified by unshed tears.
I smile at her, smoothing her hair, "You are going to be just fine, Phoebe Grey. You're going to meet new little girls, and learn a lot of things. And you get to come home for holidays. It's going to be okay, sweetheart. Trust me."
"Where's daddy?" Phoebe asks, twirling the ears to her stuffed rabbit.
I frown. Great Question, "Don't worry about it, sweets. I need you to go fetch your rolling suitcase and take it to the front door to Taylor, yeah?" I smile at her as she obeys.
Fuck Christian. How dare he not thinking about how he's going to make his children feel—how he's going to make me feel. My subconscious is frowning, tapping her foot expectantly.
"Theodore!" I call, straightening.
"Mother?" Teddy answers, sauntering into the room. His brown hair ruffled, as he rubs sleep from his eyes.
"Are you ready? We need to get going."
"Mom, you don't need to do this," He says coming to sit on the bed.
"Do what, honey?" I mutter, stuffing the last of his clothes into the suitcase and zipping it up.
"This," He says, gesturing towards the suitcase. "I know what's going on. I know you and Christian are arguing and your solution is to send me and Pheebs to bumfu—"
"Watch your mouth," I snap, eyeing him warningly.
"Sorry," He says, holding his hands up.
I look at him and finish zipping the suitcase. "He is your father, and you will refer to him as such. Secondly, you're completely wrong, and finally, you're going to be fine. You're just nervous".
"Mom," Theodore snorts, "I'm not nervous. Everyone I know has been shipped off to a boarding school. I've been counting the days since I broke the single digits. I'm just saying you don't have to ship me off pretending you're doing it for me. I know you're arguing."
"Teddy," I straighten and look at him, "I really need you to stop worrying about things that don't need to be worried about. Your father and I are fine. I really need you to use your smarts and understanding to hurry us along." I look at him, exasperation tinting my words.
"Yes ma'am," He says, sliding the suitcase off the bed and rolling it out of the room.
"I'm ready, anyway," He calls back as he disappears around the corner.
I clap my hand over my mouth as silent sobs erupt out of me. How could my marriage have gotten so sour, my 12 year old was noticing? I shook my head, heading into the bathroom to mop up my tears and straighten my clothing and hair. I powdered my nose and pinned back loose strands of her. Straightening my peplum top, and smoothing out my skirt, I walk out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, colliding nose first into my husband. I inhale his scent deeply before stepping back.
"Sorry," I mutter, walking around him.
"You're fine." He answers shortly. Walking over to the dresser, he undoes his tie, taking it off and placing it neatly into his drawer. He undoes the top two buttons of his white dress shirt and unbuttons his coat. He turns, his gray eyes looking cautiously at me.
"Are the kids ready?" He asked, his voice stabbing the silence surrounding us.
I nod my head slowly.
He takes a step closer to me, and I instinctively take one back.
Christian looks at his feet, "Are you ready?"
I nod once more, taking a deep breath and exiting my bedroom. My subconscious leers back at Christian, sticking her tongue out at him and we round the corner.
"The car is loaded, Mrs. Grey." Taylor smiles and nods.
Mrs. Grey. Despite the heartache, the sadness, the hardships, and the troubles, I still loved the sound of Christian's name attached to mine—Anastasia Grey.
"And the children?" I ask.
"Loaded as well, ma'am."
"Thank you, Taylor," I say, smiling and walking outside, my heels clanking against the ground.
"Taylor." Christian nods and smiles at Taylor as he walks behind me. Sensing his closeness, I sway my hips from side to side on purpose. I smirk as he rushes forward and opens the car door.
"Mrs. Grey," He says gesturing for me to get in.
"Thank you," I say, keeping my voice level with his. My smirk widens as he closes the door. He rounds the car and slides into the driver's seat.
"Where were you?" Phoebe asks.
"Making sure everything was in order for you and your brother to travel safely, princess."
"Did you get me chocolates?" Phoebe asked, narrowing her eyes at her father.
Christian mirrors her expression, "Yes." He says in a low voice, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling forward a small box of chocolates.
"Yes," Phoebe says, reaching forward to take the box from her father, "thank you daddy."
"You're welcome, princess," Christian averts his gaze to Ted, "Theodore."
"Christian", he answers.
"Theodore, ENOUGH." I snap, eyeing his smirk in the review mirror.
"Dad."
Christian smirks, reaching into his coat pocket and producing a pack of Teddy's favorite chewing gum. "For the road, my boy."
Teddy reaches forward, smiling his gratitude.
Christian shuffled in his seat, "Ready?"
Everyone in the car answers, but me. I reach into my purse, pulling out my sunglasses and shift in my seat as Christian turns the keys and pulls out of the driveway. Mid-trip he reaches over, and takes my hand. I stiffen, but otherwise do not move. The kids already notice too much.
"Bye, princess!" Christian is waving as Phoebe and Teddy approach the plane that will take them to France for the next year. I press my fingers to my lips, kissing them, before pressing them against the window. I watch as my children board the aircraft, as it heads down the runway, and as it ascends into the air. I'm overwhelmed with the desire to cry. I swallow the grapefruit sized lump in my throat and turn, heading towards the exit.
Did I make the right choice? My subconscious is looking longingly after the plane that just departed, chewing her thumbnail nervously.
"They'll be fine." Christian says, falling into step beside me.
"I hope so," I shiver slightly and hug myself.
"Cold?" He asks, eyeing me.
I nod, not taking my arms from around myself.
Christian stops, shrugging his coat off and handing it to me. I shake my head, refusing the silent offer.
"Anastasia," He looks at me, his voice edgy.
I look up at him, being careful to keep my gaze void of any emotion. "Yes?"
"Take my coat," He says carefully. I can tell he's struggling to keep his patience.
"It's your coat," I say simply, and turn to continue walking.
He grabs my arm and steers me back towards him, "And I'm asking you to wear it."
"No, thank you."
"Put on the damn jacket."
"I will not, Mr. Grey. It is your jacket, you bought it, you're wearing it, I don't want it. Now, kindly unhand me, you're causing a scene." Despite the complete lack of people, I yank my arm away from his grasp and rub the area where his hand had been.
Christian looks at me, clenching his teeth. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them again, his gaze is softer.
"Please, baby, put on my jacket."
I take a deep breath and stare at him. I can't help it. He has this damned affect on me, always. I stare at his beautiful eyes, taking in his every feature. The shape of his lips, his bone structure, the way his hair was always messy in just the right way. He was lovely, and I was in love with him. I consent, reaching out for the coat.
"Let me," He says, pulling the coat back and waiting for me to turn. I sigh, doing so, and he places the garment around my shoulders. I start to turn around when I feel him cup my behind. I yelp and whirl around to look at him.
He grins at me, provocatively, his eyes twinkling.
"I saw what you were doing. I saw how you swayed your hips as you walked. Your body is lovely."
I swallowed hard, my mouth drying.
"Thanks," I say simply, tossing my hair and walking hurriedly towards the car. I open my own door before he has a chance to and climb inside. I reach into my pocketbook and pull my phone out, checking the time. 3:07. I unlock my phone and type out an email:
To: Crystal Sunderman
Subject: This afternoon
From: Anastasia Grey
Time: July 31 15:09pm
Crystal,
Change of plans, I will not be returning to the office this afternoon.
Have a good weekend.
Ana
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
Send. I lock my phone as Christian swings into the driver's seat and closes the door.
"Where to?" He asks, turning the key in the ignition.
I shrug, "I'm not going back to work, so take me home, I guess."
"Why?" He asks, not looking at me as he exits the parking garage.
"I don't want to." I say simply, slipping my sunglasses back over my eyes.
He says nothing, chewing his thumbnail as we drive along. I stare out the window, watching all of Seattle pass me by. There's light traffic as people are finishing their work days early and heading out into the city to prepare for a night out. I reach up and move my hair to the right side of my neck, feeling hot.
Christian glances over at me, and touches the exposed side of my neck.
"I miss you, Ana," He mutters as I pull my neck away.
I whip my head around to look at him, narrowing my eyes. No one believes you, Christian. My subconscious sneers at him.
"Yes, even if you don't believe me", He rolls his eyes, annoyed. He's still got it.
"Oh, don't roll your eyes at me!" I snap at him.
Christian looks at me and smirks, "Oh? Why not? What are you going to do? Ignore me?"
I inhale sharply and look away, annoyed. He's making fun of you, Ana.
"Where would you like to go, Anastasia?" He asks, suppressing a smile.
"Aren't you going back to work?" I still haven't turned to look at him.
"No, I'm not. I want to spend today with you."
"Really?" I ask, my hopefulness betraying my cool exterior. I quickly regain composure as I sit back in my seat. "Why?"
"Because," he begins softly, "You're my wife."
I say nothing, pressing my forehead against the window and looking outside. It was crazy. The outside world was full of bright lights, bright colors. How could it be so bright outside, but yet I feel so gloomy on the inside? We drive in silence for a few more minutes before Christian pulls off the road and heads towards the jogging trail. Driving a few minutes longer, he pulls into the parking lot and turns the car off.
"Let's go for a walk." He says, turning in his seat to look at me.
I look at him, his gray eyes soft, almost worried. I say nothing as I unbuckle my seatbelt and open the car door. Stepping out, I'm thankful for the warm sun shining down on my cold feet. I close the door, and round the car to the back. Opening the hatch, I pull out a pair of sandals, slipping my wedges off and stepping into the sandals. Much better. Christian is watching me put my shoes on, and waits for me to regain my balance, and we walk in step to each other. We walk in silence for several minutes before I decide to break it.
"Why aren't you going to work?" I ask, pulling my arms around myself.
"I told you. I want to spend the afternoon with you. The kids are gone for an extended amount of time. I want to focus on us for some time—just us. Why not start today?"
"I'm sure you have better things to be doing in your office," I mutter.
"You know, you're being really mean." Christian snaps, stopping.
I say nothing.
"Why are you so mad?" He asks, irritation creeping into his voice.
"Seriously? It might have something to do with you turning in at 4am last night, and almost missing your children before they fly off across the world."
"I was working, Anastasia." He snaps again.
"You're always working," I mutter, looking down at my knotted fingers.
"Its how we survive," He snorts, shaking his head.
I look up at him, glaring. "That's not what I'm talking about, Christian, and you know it."
He tightens his jaw, looking at me hard, "That business carries my name, Anastasia. Those people have mouths to feed, bills to pay, houses to keep. I will not cease to help in the way that I can. I would hope you'd understand."
My subconscious scoffs, looking at me expectantly over her half moon glasses. I can't help but flush. He's partially right. Since the day Elena called him up, swearing to be all about business, I have not been able to push back the feelings of pure jealousy as they poured over books, trying to find the best solution to rescue the drowning business.
"I hate her." I mumbled.
"I really, really hate her too, Ana." Christian steps forward and tips my chin up, "But Felicia, a designer stylist, she has a 4 year old boy, a single mother too. Please understand." His gray eyes searched mine pleadingly.
My lips part as I inhale quietly. I really, really hate her too. His voice resonates in my head.
"Baby," He says, kissing my lips gently and resting his forehead on mine, "I love you—just you. You are my life, my only, and the mother of my children. I love you. Please, don't be jealous. Please, don't be mad. I see her, maybe once a month. I do this for the children of those that work for her, and no one else." He kisses my forehead, hugging me. He tips my chin again, making me look at him.
"I'm sorry," I say softly. "I know what you're talking about. I know why you're doing this I just—"
I'm interrupted by his phone ringing. I snort and back out of his grasp.
"What?" He snaps as he answers the call.
I walk away from him.
"This isn't my problem, I've gotten you started, you figure it out…. Stop calling me, this is why you have an accountant… I'm not helping you…. That's really none of your business…. Because I'm with my WIFE, she is my priority above all. Stop calling me, or I will change my number…. Good, See you next quarter." Christian hangs up.
I can hear him power walk behind me until he catches up and is once more falling into step next to me.
"Stop," He says sternly. Out of instinct, I do. I keep my gaze casted towards my feet, noting that I need to have my pedicure redone.
"Look." He cups my chin, making me look at him. He holds up his phone, pressing the power button. The phone shuts off. "It's off. For as long as you want it off. You tell me when I can turn it on, Anastasia."
I look up at him, tears pricking the back of my eyes, "Really?" I squeak out, just managing to keep the tears at bay.
"Yes, really."
I smile, hugging him tightly. He was at least trying.
He breathes out a sigh of relief. "Mrs. Grey?"
"Yes?" I breathe out.
"Will you go out with me tonight?"