I know. I'm a terrible person. I know. But here it is. I always do try to update in a timely fashion, it doesn't always happen, but I will continue to try harder, I promise.

Ana POV

She woke up slowly. Her eyes weren't cooperative, and after a couple failed attempted to force them open she gave up. Her brain was muddled and foggy, her body felt heavy. This was the deepest sleep she'd ever tried to come out of. Her throat was sore, her body stiff, her hair tangled and lying uncomfortably on her neck. She went to move it, to gather the long, haphazard strands and pull them back and away, but her hand was stuck. Both of her hands were stuck.

She felt the wash of panic as she recognized that she was bound to something.

Scott.

Her mind jumped into overdrive, the fog ebbing as her fight or flight response kicked in. She pulled against the restraints, forcing her eyes to open, and immediately a repetitive and incessant beeping rang out from somewhere at her right. It took only a moment for her to recognize that she was in a hospital room.

Her body relaxed as quickly as it had panicked, confusion taking over instead.

She looked around the light blue room, then back down to her hands, remembering that her wrists were bound. But why? And that was when she noticed she wasn't alone.

There was a person sitting in a chair pulled up to her bedside, his head resting on his arm on her mattress.

Was that….? No, it couldn't be.

Her restraints had just enough give to allow her to stretch and grab the hand resting near hers. She squeezing his fingers, her muscles immediately letting her know that she had little strength. She tried to speak, but her throat felt sore and uncooperative, so she squeezed his fingers again. This time, he moved, his head turning so he was facing her direction.

Oh my God. It was Ray.

He blinked a couple of times as he began to awaken, and she squeezed his fingers again to encourage him. And it wasn't until his head fully turned up to face her, his eyes landing on hers, that she managed to somehow find her voice.

"Daddy?" she asked, the word coming out as a harsh whisper.

"Annie," he sighed contentedly, a wash of relief replacing the confusion on his face. He got up, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her tightly against his chest. She wanted to hug him back, but the damn restraints prevented her from doing so. The frustration of it coupled with the overwhelming emotion she was feeling at seeing Ray for the first time in years brought immediate tears to her eyes. They quickly flowed over, cascading down her cheeks, and all she could do was let them fall as emotion welled and wound tightly in her chest, forcefully coming out of her tender throat in sobs.

"Oh Annie, don't cry," he said, but the emotion in his voice only forced her to cry harder. She'd never seen Ray cry. Ever.

He straightened up, placing a kiss on her forehead, just below her hairline. The action sent her hurdling back in time to all the occasions he'd done the same exact thing. Again she tugged at her arms, and again they didn't budge, and the feeling of being trapped caused her heart rate to spike.

"Ray, I need you to untie me," she said suddenly, a panicky lilt to her voice. "Can you please untie my wrists?"

She saw an uncomfortable look cross his face as he shifted his shoulders. "Annie, I can't. It's a doctor's order. I'm not allowed to."

"Please. Please, I can't- I don't like it. It's making me anxious."

"I'll get the nurse, okay? Maybe she can…" he trailed off as he jumped up and quickly walked out the door.

He came back a minute later, a man in scrubs with a stethoscope around his neck in tow.

"Hi Ana," he spoke kindly, not with the judgement she'd been expecting. "My name is Nate, and I'm going to be your nurse today. How are you feeling?"

"Okay. Sore. Tired," she said, then tugged at her restraints again. "Can you take these off please?"

He gave her a regretful look before saying. "Not just yet, unfortunately. I have to speak with your physician first. We'll have you speak with an in house psychiatrist, and she will reassess whether or not the restraints are necessary. But please know they are in your best interests. We just want to make sure we keep you safe, okay?"

She didn't answer, but she knew the unhappiness was written all over her face, She let him do a quick check on her- take her blood pressure, heart rate, listen to her lungs, asking questions about her pain.

"Is there anything I can do for you before I go call the physician, Ana?"

She tried to muster up a small smile as she shook her head no. Hopefully, being cooperative would expedite this whole thing.

"Ana, do you know why you're here?" Ray asked hesitantly, after the nurse was gone. She looked down, not wanting to address the situation verbally, or really at all, even to herself. "Annie?"

She nodded, finally. Yes, she knew why she was here. She remembered what she had done, the only thing that she felt she could do last night. She remembered the aching desire to stop living this life, remembered the absolute desperation to find a way out, to escape the agony, the fear, the absolutely crushing weight of what her life had become. So she'd done the only thing she could think of to just make all the pain and anger and hurt end.

"Why, Annie?" he asked, his voice pleading.

"It was my only way out," she said quietly. Scott would never let her go. And she had nothing else. The realization that death was her only way out had been simultaneously devastating and relieving. She wished she had another option, but she was just relieved she had any option at all to escape it all for good.

She felt Ray's grip on her fingers tighten, not even having realized she was holding his hand again.

"What about me?" The mixture of anger and sadness in his voice was another blow to her already bruised and battered heart. "Why wasn't I an option for you? Why wasn't I an out?"

The truth was, there was a fleeting moment before she swallowed all of the remaining pills in the bottle that she thought of Ray. But how could she show up and expect him to help her, to take care of her, to support her after all of these years? He shouldn't have had to do it all the years he did, all the years he took on another man's daughter for a woman who ended up cheating on him and leaving him. He had done more than his fair share for her in this lifetime. And honestly, while she was in the middle of a breakdown, the very last thing she could handle was tainting the good memories she had with Ray by contacting him only to have him tell her he wasn't interested in seeing her. Ray was one of the good pieces of her life, and if she was going to end everything, she was going to keep her memories of him good and pure. "I didn't want you to be obligated to me again," she said honestly.

"Obligated?" he spat the word at her like it was filthy. "Obligated, Anastasia? You are my daughter! You have never, for a single second, not since the moment your mother placed you in my arms, been an obligation to me." She felt his hand on her chin, forcing her face up until she was looking into his dark brown eyes. "I love you."

She heard the whimper leave her lips, felt the wrenching of her heart in her chest. She was wrapped up in his arms an instant later, the frustration of not being able to cling to him the way she wanted to mixing with her joy of being wrapped up in such a safe place again for the first time in so many years.

She felt the bit of moisture from his tears seep through her thin hospital gown and onto her shoulder. "Why did you leave?" his muffled, strained voice asked. "Why did you leave and never come back?"

Oh god. She never expected this reaction from him, and she was unprepared for it. She'd always thought he didn't care. That was the truth Scott wanted her to see, and it was the truth she'd seen for years- that she was an obligation and was doing Ray a favor by ridding herself from his life. But the reality was, she had hurt this man who had selflessly loved her, who she had loved.

It hadn't taken long, back when it all started, for Ana to learn to trust Scott implicitly, to be able to shut her mind off and let him make every single decision without question from her. It really was true and absolute submission on her end. The more she left in his hands, the more he completely took over and consumed her life. It came to the point where she needed him to tell her what to do, what to think, how to feel. And whatever he said, she always accepted it without question.

That was what made it so easy for her to leave Ray, when the time came.

Because Scott said she should, and therefore, she did. No questions asked. He'd sat her down one day and told her his plans- how he was going to start a business, how he wanted her at his side to help. She had asked about what she should tell Ray, but just so she knew, not because she was questioning Scott's decision. And he'd told her things that, at the time, made so much sense to her, because he was the one saying them…

"Ana, Ray has his own life to live. It was admirable, what he did, taking you in and caring for you when you had no one else. I respect the hell out of him for it, I truly do. But now it's time to repay him for his kindness. Let him go. Let him live the life he put on hold to take care of a child who wasn't his, who he had no real attachment to. He never remarried, never had a child of his own because he was obligated to you. He's young enough to still have a chance at happiness. He did his part for you. He brought you up, fed you, clothed you, until you reached a legal adult age. Don't take advantage of his kindness and ask him to do more than that. Don't ask him to keep feeding you and housing you. What will you do? Ask him for help paying for college? He isn't a wealthy man. You can't bleed him dry for your own selfish gains. Don't continue to make him feel obligated to you. Let him go, Ana. Let him go and let him live. Give him back the life he gave up for you."

Everything he always said made so much sense. Ray never missed her. Ray didn't need her. Ray was free to be happy now. He was a good man who did a good thing, and now it was time for everyone to move on.

But right now, looking into Ray's eyes, it hit Ana with the force of a Mack truck just how untrue everything was that Scott had said. Ray loved her, missed her. She wouldn't have hurt him by staying, she hurt him by leaving. Of course she hurt him by leaving. He'd raised her. Chosen to raise her. Not obligated. He'd made the choice. He was a man of few words, of little outward emotion, but he'd loved her. As a child, she'd felt his love. More than her mother's, more than anyone's. And when she'd come back to live with him, she remember that although it was under difficult circumstances, he was happy to have her. She knew that, then. What made her stop knowing it? Why hadn't she been able to see it anymore? Why had it made so much sense before, and then suddenly seemed so completely stupid to believe those things?

The bile rose in her throat, because she knew the answer.

The man who she had absolutely dedicated the last 6+ years of her life to, had manipulated to her the the fullest degree. He had methodically shaved away the layers of her life that existed before him, until all that was left was a puppet for his desires.

It was the final, unvarnished breakthrough of that realization that had her reaching for the bottle of pills last night. That had her wanting nothing more than to end her miserable shell of a life

Now, in the light of day, in the presence of Ray, it all seems to immature. She felt stupid. She didn't want to die, not really. But she'd have given anything to end the pain she was feel last night, including her life at the time. Last night had felt hopeless. Truly, truly hopeless.

But today, Ray represented hope. Just his presence here was enough to keep her going for now.

She, looked him over, really took him in. Only a few years older than Scott, he wore his age worse, and seemed to have aged faster in the last six years than in the decade before. The look in his eyes was excruciating as he waited for the answer to a question she now realized he probably asked himself often. Why did she leave? Why didn't she contact him?

But what could she say right now? What could she tell him? The truth? The whole truth? How? How could she look him in the eye and tell him the ugly reality of what her life had been? Surely he'd be appalled. She could easily lose him as fast as she'd gotten him back.

She looked at him. Just looked. What should she say? What could she say? The longer it took to answer, the more she saw the light change in his eyes, the pleading, the begging dim, until finally, he cleared his throat and straightened his back, his chin lifting just a tad as he visibly reeled himself back in. His hand slipped from hers, and instantly her fingers twisted back toward his, her wrists once again pulling the restraints to their limits.

"Don't leave me," the plea left her lips in a whimper, the strangled feeling in her chest twisting, keeping her from breathing.

Guilt slammed to the forefront of his expression as his hand sought hers again, gripping tightly. "Never, Annie," he said with such firmness, such sincerity that she immediately felt able to breath again. "I will always be here for you, Annie. I love you. You are the single greatest thing that has ever happened to me in my life, and I have never, and will never, stop loving you, stop worrying about you, stop caring about you. I am here. For you. For however you need me. So if you can't tell me certain things now, that's fine. I can wait. I will always wait for you. Just know, that when you're ready, I will be there. And nothing you ever say to me can ever change that. Okay?"

She swallowed past the thickness in her throat, the suffocating ball of emotion that had developed at his words, and nodded, because it was all she could do.

"I'm going to get you help. I'm going to do anything and everything to help you. Whatever happened before, whatever is happening now," he said running his thumb over the bruising around her wrists and giving her a pointed look, "I'm going to fix it."

Again, she nodded. She believed that he believed his words. But deep down, she didn't know if she was fixable.

A knock on the door startled them both, bringing them back to the present.

"Anastasia?" a woman asked, poking her head in the door.

"Yes," Ana confirmed.

"I'm Dr. Fischer. I'm the house psychiatrist, and I'm just here to gather a little information about the events that brought you to us, okay?"

"Yes," Ana said, knowing there was no getting around this. She was going to have to talk to someone- wanted to even. She knew she was in a very poor place mentally, and she wanted to get better. Long term, she knew seeing a psych doctor was something she had to do. But her immediate goal of getting out of these restraints had her willing to do whatever she needed to do right this minute.

"Good morning," the doctor addressed Ray with a smile before turning back to Ana. "Would you like us to be alone for this discussion, Ana? It's completely up to you."

Ana wasn't sure when, if ever, she would build up the mental strength to be forthcoming with Ray about everything that had happened. And she wanted, and he deserved, to know some truths. Maybe if he was just present in the room while she talked to a professional, it would be easier. He could learn the information to understand the situation, but without having a direct one on one conversation about it.

"He can stay," she answered.

The doctor smiled and nodded in acknowledgement, before pulling a chair up to the opposite side of the bed of Ray. She crossed one leg over the other, folded her hands casually in her lap and began to talk. No notebook, no recording, just ready for a deceptively casual discussion about topics that had obliterated Ana's entire frame of mind.

"We're going to keep this pretty basic for right now. I'm just trying to gauge your current state of mind, get to know a little bit about you and what brought you here, okay? I want you to learn to trust me, and once we've built that up, we can delve a little deeper into the tough stuff."

"Okay," Ana nodded, wanting to sit up a little straighter but once again hindered by her immobilized arms.

The doctor must have seen her awkward shift, because she leaned forward, immediately releasing her left wrist from its restraint. "We can pop these off while I'm in here, and after we talk, I will reassess if they are needed anymore. Sound good?"

"Yes, thank you so much," Ana said gratefully, beyond thrilled to have her arms back.

"So, tell me a little bit about last night. What do you remember?"

Ana pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them tightly. "I remember everything. I came home to some devastating news that was kind of… a final nail in the coffin on a downward spiral of a situation I've been stuck in for a while now. At the time it felt completely hopeless. I felt like anything would be better than saying in the situation I was in, so I made a very quick decision to put a stop to it the only way I knew how."

"I see. And what was your solution?"

She hesitated, then said, "Pills. I'd dislocated my shoulder a couple months ago. They gave me pills for the pain, but I hadn't taken all of them. I took what was left of them all at once. Laid on my bathroom floor and cried. Drifted off, I guess."

"And why did you not see another way out of this situation? Why did you feel you couldn't ask for help from friends or family? Or even just from yourself? Why did you feel like the situation was hopeless, like you said?"

"Because I don't have friends or family. Ray-" she said, gesturing to where he sat but not looking at him, "and I are just now seeing each other for the first time in years because of this. I had no one to go to for help. And I knew..." she said, but stopped.

"Knew what?" Dr. Fischer pressed.

"Knew he would never let me leave, anyway."

"He," Dr. Fischer acknowledged. "So you have someone in your life."

"He is my life. He controls everything I have, everything I am."

"I see. He's your… boyfriend?" she asked, leading.

Ana felt her mouth go dry, like someone had shoved cotton inside of it. "He's my boss."

"Is his name Christian Grey?" the doctor asked, her eyes serious and penetrating.

"No," Ana said, the confusion at Christian's name being thrown into the conversation evident. "No, no. Mr. Grey isn't… I mean, he is my boss, but not directly. He's not the one I'm-"

"Okay. I only ask because Mr. Grey has been in the waiting room since last night asking about you. He refuses to leave until he knows you're okay. He was the one who brought you here last night. So you can understand our concern, that he may be the one who drove you to hurt yourself, and why we would need to be made aware of that."

"Yes, I understand. But no, Christian did nothing wrong… He found me?" she said, distracted by this piece of information. She hadn't really thought about how she'd been found until now. How had Christian accessed her home, her bathroom, to find her? And why?

The why's paled in comparison to the realization, though, that however he managed it, he managed it, and if he hadn't… Would she be here? If he'd showed up later, or not at all? Would she have been dead?

The idea sent a shiver down her spine.

She hated herself for being so weak. She hated that she'd directly allowed another person to sway her very desire to continue to exist in this world. She wasn't a religious person, was fairly certain she didn't believe in a god. So choosing to end her life had nothing to do with going to a better place filled with rainbows and flowers and the souls of passed relatives. She'd gone into it knowing this was the end of everything for her. And still, she'd done it.

"Anastasia?" the doctor asked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Yes?' she replied, tilting her face up to give her her full attention once again.

"What are you thinking about right now?"

Ana cleared her throat, sitting up a little straighter. "Just about everything that happened. Wondering how close I came to death. Wondering why I let my life get so hopeless that I felt death was the only option for me."

"That's good. It's good that you're questioning things. It bodes well for your future therapy sessions," the doctor said with a smile. "Your questions about your physical health are best left to your medical doctor, who I am certain will be in shortly to discuss the details with you." She stood, smoothing down her shirt. "I'm going put in an order for the restraints to be removed, but I will need to have someone come sit in your room with you for the duration of the mandatory suicide protocol, about twenty-four more hours. I will be meeting with you once a day while you are still here in the hospital, and after that, we will set up a plan for you for follow-up psychological care. Does that sound good?"

"Yes, ma'am," Ana said with a nod, not thrilled about some stranger coming to sit in her room, but knowing the alternative of being tied to the bed was much, much worse.

CPOV

"Ana…" he whispered, leaning down to pick up her lifeless body off the dirty floor. "Please, no. Not again. Please…"

He looked around spotting the familiar stained little blanket with the cartoon airplanes on it, draping it carefully over her cold body.

"Please don't make me go through this again," he mumbled.

He woke up with a gasp, the nightmare of Ana mixing with memories of his past that he'd long since dealt and made peace with. Until now, apparently, when finding Ana on the floor caused his psyche to go hurdling back in time to thoughts of his birth mother.

He glanced at his watch, realizing he must have only dozed off for a few minutes. Apparently just long enough to have a nightmare that reignited his anxieties.

How long had he been sitting in this same chair? The seconds had bled into minutes had bled into hours long ago, and he was completely unaware of exactly how long they'd been sitting here, waiting, hoping for the chance to hear something, see someone, who would update him on Ana. He would take an illegal, HIPAA breaking slip of the tongue from a staff member at this point- anything, just as long as he knew she was okay. He asked everyone who passed by him, but no one would tell him anything. He'd gotten loud exactly once, and when they'd threatened to remove him from hospital grounds, he'd quickly shut up. There was no way he was leaving here, not without confirmation that she was okay.

His head was buried in his hands, the sting and burn of his exhausted eyes painful. Taylor, who had been standing guard at the door for so long was now slumped into a chair next to him, and Christian didn't even care. Taylor deserved the sleep.

Rubbing his hands over the back of his stiff neck,he let out a stilted sigh. He leaned back to crack his aching back and was startled to see someone standing in front of him. Holy shit, it was Ray Steele.

He jumped to his feet, his legs feelings foreign on his body from holding the sitting position for so long.

He felt the stream of words dying to be spoke gathering at the back of his throat, but he stopped himself from saying anything. He'd wait for Ray to speak first, the ball was in his court. He couldn't risk doing or saying anything to offend the man who knew every intimate detail about what Christian has been obsessing over for hours.

The older man stared at him with unyielding eyes, and Christian was sure his normally stoic facial expression was long gone, replaced by the exhausting and overwhelming concern. He didn't care to even attempt to mask his desperation for information.

The two eyed each other for what felt like an eternity, and then Ray held out his hand. "Ray Steele," he introduced, his voice edged with the exhaustion Christian was feeling.

"Christian Grey," he replied, shaking his hand firmly.

"I am out here on behalf of Ana. She knows you're here and waiting to see her. She has agreed to allow you to speak with her."

"She's okay?" Christian asked, a rush of air leaving his lungs so quickly, it left him breathless he had to sit down.

"She's going to make a full physical recovery from the incident, yes," Ray confirmed. "May I sit?" he asked, motion to the open seat to Christian's left.

"Of course."

"Annie has agreed to allow me to fill you in a little bit. She's in with the medical doctor right now. As soon as he's done you can go see her." Christian nodded.

Ray went on to explain the minimal complications that had risen from the pills she'd ingested, how they'd pumped her stomach as a precaution, but how she hadn't really ingested enough to cause her any serious or permanent harm. No dramatics- no heart stopping on the table and someone yelling CLEAR while they shocked the life back into her. Physically she'd make a full recovery, and mentally she was more than willing to be cooperative with the psychologist here, and one as an outpatient, until she was healthy in all aspects of her life again.

"If Annie wants to tell you about what led her to this point, what pushed her to such drastic measures, that's up to her. I won't divulge those details- I honestly know barely anything myself. But I just wanted to fill you in on her physical health since you've waited so patiently all this time. And I'm sorry about last night. I just couldn't take the chance of being open with you about anything, in case you were the one that drove her to this. I'm sure you understand."

And he did. It had driven him near the brink of insanity not knowing, left to wonder. But he did understand. Afterall, his top concerned was Ana's safety as well. And for all he knew, Ray wasn't trustworthy in her life. That had only added to his fear last night. If she had abandoned her father all those years ago, maybe it was because he was a detrimental part of her past, and the hospital automatically putting that potential person in the driver's seat of her medical care had been frankly terrifying from Christian's point of view. He just wanted her safe. Above anything else right now, he needed to know she was safe at any cost.

After wrapping up the conversation, Ray led Christian to Ana's room. He knocked soundly on the partially ajar door twice before just walking in.

"Annie, honey, I have Christian Grey here to see you."

Christian stepped into the room, his eyes darting to a young woman sitting on a chair in the corner of the room, a small table pulled up in front of her, a book resting open on its surface.

"That's Annie's sitter," Ray said in a low voice. "Protocol. So she doesn't have to be restrained anymore."

Christian felt a wave of dread flood over him at the thought of her being restrained. The thought was fleeting though, once he turned his full attention to Ana, who was sitting up in her bed looking at him hesitantly, like she wasn't sure how he was going to react. He sent her a small smile, trying to assure her, and it seemed to work, as he watched her tense shoulders relax a little.

"I'm going to head down to the cafeteria and grab something to eat, give you two some time to talk. I'll be back up in, say a half hour?"

Ana shot her dad a smile in thanks, and Ray turned on his heel and left the room. It was just Christian and Ana now.

...And her sitter.

Fuck.

He was really hoping to talk to her alone. He was sure this woman was bound by some hospital oath to be discreet and not discuss private conversations, but still. The things he wanted to discuss with Ana were very sensitive, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable by bringing them up in front of a stranger.

Christian eyed the other woman, who was focused on her book but within earshot no matter how low he talked.

"Ray and the doctors all told me you've been here all night," Ana said.

Any and all attention to the sitter was immediately lost the moment he heard her voice.

"I have been. I've been so worried. No one would tell me anything," he said, closing the distance between them.

"I'm sorry. I know that must have driven you crazy."

It did. But it didn't matter anymore. He was here now, with her, and she was okay, and that was all that mattered.

"I'm just relieved to see you're okay. You have no idea-" he stopped, the swift and overwhelming emotion filling his chest to bursting keeping him from finishing his sentence out loud. The mental image of her on that bathroom floor had been haunting him for hours upon hours now. To replace it with this vision of her sitting wide awake, talking to him was an immense relief.

She bit her lip, peering up at him uncertainly. "They said… you found me." Her voice was small, and it made his throat ache to have to talk about this.

"I did," he cleared his throat, looked to the ceiling, ran a hand through his hair, trying to quell the weight, the tightness he was feeling in every part of him from the chest up. "I came to check on you. He came to see me in my office. He said things that made me worry about your state of mind. But honest to God, I just thought you'd be upset- I never anticipated finding you how I did."

There was a long pause, neither were looking at each other, Christian's eyes still on the ceiling, Ana's on her lap.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I put you through that."

"It's not your fault, Ana. This is on him- all of it. He's manipulated you so much over the years, twisted your entire life around his little finger so tightly so he could do whatever he wanted, however he wanted, whenever he wanted, wherever he wanted to you. I just want you to be happy. I want you out from underneath his thumb and I want you to see him for who he is. I so badly want you to realize what he is."

"He doesn't care about me," she said, her voice soft but the sincerity palpable.

"No, he doesn't. But other people do. I do," he said imploring her to believe him.

Her glittering blue eyes swept up to catch his. "You don't even know me."

He winced. He knew he did. It hurt, even if he didn't want it do. He'd tried to know her. And honestly, believed he was the person in the world who did more than anyone at this point. He had gotten truths from her no one else did, had been on the receiving end of thoughts and emotions that no one else had gotten from her since before Kennedy ever factored into her life. He'd tried, to the best of his ability, to be there for her without scaring her away. He'd tried to do the balancing act on a tightrope with a hundred pound weight in each hand, and here he was, responding to his attempt to reinforce how he cared about her with a viscerally slaying 'You don't even know me.'

He took a deep breath, trying to clear out the ache of disappointment from his chest. He thought they'd come so far, but maybe he was wrong..

"I want the chance to get to know you better. I want you to give me the chance to help."

"Mr. Grey," she said, and he could already hear the blood whirring in his ears. The formality already told him everything he needed to hear. It was essentially like she was holding up a scalpel, preparing to cleanly slice away any connection he held to her. "I appreciate everything you've done. Your supportiveness has helped me think outside of the tiny box I've been stuck in for years. If it wasn't for you, I would still be exactly where I'd always been, exactly where he wanted me to be. But I can't continue to burden your life with mine. That's not fair to you. I've been unfair to you. I may be able to see him for what he is now, but I am miles away from being a mentally healthy person. I can't lay all of that on you. I won't."

He took a step closer, but stopped, his hand clenched into tight fists at his side as he resisted the urge to sit on her bed, to weave his fingers in her hair and rub his thumb over the soft skin of her cheek.

"Don't you understand, Ana," he asked, his voice thick, almost froggy as he swallowed. "What you mean to me? Don't you understand that you could slice my throat open, and until my last breath, my biggest worry would be that you might nick your finger on the blade?"

"I don't deserve that level of commitment from you. I haven't earned that place in your life. I can't be your focus during your last breath, when I didn't even want my own a day ago." She looked at him, her eyes bleeding the depths of her honesty. "I'm not strong enough to be the center of another man's world right now."

He wanted to throw himself on his knees and beg for her to let him in. Inside he was kicking and screaming and throwing a temper tantrum fit for the world's most spoiled two year old. But outside, he remained still, impassive as he looked down on her slight, pale body nestled in the bed. She was finally free from Kennedy, free to make her own decisions. And she wasn't giving off any signs of uncertainty, any signs of anything but complete sincerity for the decision she'd apparently made.

And he was at a total loss of how to fight that.

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted sadly.

"I know you care about me, Christian. I think I care about you, too. But I don't really know what I feel, or even... how to feel it properly, I guess. I have no experience with real relationships. All I know is how to put a man's happiness before my own, and that's not healthy. I don't want to be that person anymore. I don't even feel like I have an identity, right now. I just feel like an extension of him. I think that if I attempt a relationship with you right now, I will fail miserably, and I don't want to put either of us through that just because I tried to do too much too soon. You've done so much to help me. You deserve better than what I can give you right now."

He sat down on the edge of her bed, cupping her cheek in his palm. "All I expect, all I want is just you, Ana. However I can have you."

"I just want to get myself right first. I need to figure out who I am now. The last time I was able to make my own decisions, I was fifteen. I'm an adult now, and I need to learn how to live life and be independent. I need to grow. Maybe go to school, like I always dreamed of. I don't know. But I do need to figure it out for myself."

"So I guess offering to pay for a new apartment, a new car, and school, or offering you new employment isn't something that appeals to you? Because I can do all of those things for you, Ana. I'd happily do them in a heartbeat."

She gave him a sympathetic smile while she shook her head no.

"So where will you go?"

"To Montesano, with Ray. He wants me to come home. He wants us to rebuild our relationship, and help give me the direction he should have been allowed to give me as my father all those years ago."

"That's nice of him. I glad you have him," Christian said, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "Can we still talk? Can I email you? Maybe even visit once in awhile?"

"Yes. I'd like that," she said, removing his hand from her cheek and lowering it to her lap where she squeezed his fingers tightly with her own.

"I'm going to miss you," he said with a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to miss you too."