NOTE FROM RIOTTORI: LET'S OPEN THAT BOX. ENJOY...
Ana:
I hold my breath as I peel the sellotape from the box. I am moving slowly, scared of what I will release, what will soon be with me in my office. I fold down one of the flaps and work on the other, my breath still held, my heart hammering in my throat. My hands are visibly shaking, I will myself to calm down.
The balloons are released to a gasp of surprise from me. They float upwards from the box, hundreds of mini helium balloons, swarming together and filling the air above my desk. I catch one, hold it in my hand. It's a heart. I grab another one; it's a flower. Hearts and flowers. You're getting your hearts and flowers back.
Another balloon steals a laugh from me as it rides by. It's in the shape of a boxing glove. He said he'd fight for you. There's a baby boy, all in blue – Teddy – and a pink one for Phoebe. There's an intertwined 'A' and 'C', reminiscent of our wedding stationery.
The largest one, that floats languidly, a little away from the pack, is an inflatable helicopter, just like the one that Christian gave to me over two decades ago. I gasp again, this gasp filled with yearning. I grab the string and yank Charlie Tango back to me. He feels safe in my hand. Our life is with me in this room, little colorful mementos making their way up to the ceiling.
I reach into the now empty box, and find a note. I can barely see through my tears, the lettering a blur.
Baby,
Our life is in this box. My life is in your hands.
You are the only girl I will ever love. I will wait for you forever.
C x
I grip the desk, overwhelmed by all of this; all this emotion that I had kept buried for so long. Don't be perverse. Don't sacrifice your own happiness to punish him. The voice has the clarity of a bell. You can salvage this. I start to cry, allow a cathartic release. I need to leave my old feelings behind if I want to move on. I feel the rage and hurt escape through my tears and I'm not just crying for what Christian has put me through, but what I've done to myself. I had cut myself up and put myself in a box because I thought that was how I could keep him. I cry for being a fool, I sob for being a masochist and I weep for who I had become.
But with pleasure comes pain, with darkness comes light and with a tremendous fall, a superb rise follows.
I reach for the phone feeling like a phoenix reborn.
He is wooing me. No other verb for it. He is wooing me just like he had done when he wanted to make me his Sub. He is doing it again to recover his wife. He asked me out over the phone on the day of my office break-down when I called him. He said he had to meet me, see me. I agreed.
We are Ana and Christian who date but we are also Mr and Mrs Grey, in couple's therapy, visiting Dr Flynn to put together the pieces of our broken marriage.
Our first date 'after the break' was so reminiscent of the one we had had years before. A black car was waiting for me – I could see it out of my bedroom window while I was putting in my earrings.
I ran downstairs and lightly out onto the gravel drive while a man I didn't recognize opened the door for me to get in. I nodded my thanks to him and slid into the back seat. Christian was waiting for me. Just like he used to.
"Good evening, Anastasia. You look beautiful." I could hear the smile in his voice, even in the dark.
"Good evening, Christian. Thank you." I felt young again, refreshingly young yet fortified with wisdom and experience. Better than I had been, back then.
"Do you have any idea where we are going?" His voice was teasing in the half-light.
"No. But I'm ready for anything," I'd replied.
"Good," he'd whispered. He grabbed my hand and held it like he never wanted to let go. I could feel his rapid heart-beat in his finger-tips.
We were driven to the helipad where Charlie Tango's brother, Oscar Bravo was waiting. Christian took my hand again as we crossed to the helicopter. I got in the passenger side and waited to be strapped in as I normally did. He looked me directly in the eye, and grinned as we heard the satisfying 'click' of the seat-belt.
"How does that feel, Ana?" He was careful not to call me Mrs Grey. Nor to refer to me as Ms Steele.
"Safe," I said.
He stroked my cheek, tracing a line like fire down my skin and ran to his side, like a man much younger than his years. When he was settled and securely strapped in, he lifted Oscar Bravo up, hovering on the spot, skilfully. We rose into the air, the lights of the city twinkling beneath us, spurring us on. Once, we had chased the dawn. Now, we owned the night.
Christian landed on the roof of a hotel and I knew, with a flush of excitement that it was The Heathman; the backdrop to the beginning of our love story.
We were greeted by the manager, who led us a floor down to the Penthouse then discreetly left. The table was laid out, a perfect meal for two. Christian pulled my chair out, his hands stroked the small of my back as I sat and then he took his own seat. He removed the shiny, stainless steel cloches with a flurry to reveal a delicious-looking steak, Dauphinoise potatoes and long spears of asparagus – the same meal we had served at our wedding.
My stomach growled, betraying my hunger; a noise which caused Christian to laugh – a laugh of surprise tinged with relief.
"It's good to see your appetite is back, Ana." I smiled at him, and began to tuck in.
We didn't discuss anything about his betrayal or his 10 or her. We acted as if we had just met, flirted like we used to, tried to get to know each other again. Mr and Mrs Grey would discuss those issues in two days at the first scheduled appointment with Flynn.
After dinner, he ran me a bath. I had been forbidden from entering the bathroom but soon the sweet smell of Jasmine flowing out from under the door found me.
"Ana," he'd called. "Come."
I walked to the bathroom and pushed the door open. There must have been a thousand cream candles lighting my way, guiding me to the bath.
"Enjoy," he'd said, sounding a little shy, not like the Christian he usually was, usually tried to be.
"You're leaving?" I asked, not sure if I wanted him to but also not sure if I wanted him to stay.
He bent down and planted a chaste kiss on my forehead.
"Yes, but I'll just be outside. Waiting for you." I nodded. We were taking baby-steps down the long dark path back.
That night we shared a bed. We didn't touch but I know that my proximity, my presence, our closeness, let him sleep properly for the first time in weeks. Maybe even years.