RIOTTORI: IT THOUGHT WE ALL DESERVED SOME HEARTS AND FLOWERS AFTER THE BLEAK DARKNESS OF THE FIRST 21 CHAPTERS! I'M SO PLEASED THAT YOU GUYS LIKED IT. THANKS FOR READING AND COMMENTING AND SORRY THAT I HAVEN'T GOT BACK TO YOU PERSONALLY. I WAS WORKING ON THIS NEXT BIT. NOW, FOR YOUR READING PLEASURE, CHAPTER 23...
Ana:
The night before our therapy, the night after the stay in the Heathman, I can't sleep. The voice is keeping me company, keeping me strong but lying next to me in bed, her hair spilling onto my pillow, is Mrs Robinson. The voice pulls my face away from her, tries to cover my exposed ear, but it's no use. She asks me if I'm ready for the answers. She asks me if I really want to know more about Alice, his favorite little Sub. She cackles at me, she heckles me. I'm glad when day finally breaks and the new dawn chases her away.
We're sitting side-by-side in Flynn's office. Christian looks as nervous as I feel. I'm sorry we need to be here but I accept it. If I want our marriage to work, our life to be back on track, I need to know. The voice thinks I'm being a bit masochistic, thinks I should bury my head a bit, all in the name of self-preservation. I think the story in my head is worse than the reality. Or that's what I'm hoping. That's what I'll find out.
Alice:
I can't believe my plan has back-fired. Alice, Alice, you're smarter than that. If I could just see him, talk to him, remind him what I'm like, remind him what he's missing. I lie on my bed, my pillow over my face, and scream into the fabric, allow it to absorb my rage.
I knew I had him the moment he saw me, the moment I put on my Mrs Grey disguise. The room was alive with sexual tension, it took all my will-power not to seduce him then and there, in his office, with his secretaries milling around outside, to fuck him on the photo of his wife on his desk.
I got the job. Of course I got the job. He'd hired me with the head he kept between his legs, the head a lot of men seemed to think with. It was almost too easy, the effect I had on him. I thought he would be more of a challenge, this was Christian Grey after all. Little did I know that was testament to how much he loved his fucking wife. Ash was right.
I dressed like her on my first day. I knew what she liked to wear to work. Of course, my outfits were cheap knock-offs and hers were the real thing. But soon that would change. Soon I would be head-to-toe in designer.
He asked me to stay late on the second day, sending his dull Blondes home. I could have wept for joy. I ran to the bathroom to fix my hair, apply a little shimmer to my lips to attract his eyes to my mouth. I pinched my cheeks to bring out the fresh pink color and then ran back to his office. This was my big chance and I was damned if I was going to mess it up.
I knocked on the door, poised for his admittance. He called me in and I entered, a sweet little smile on my lips, my head slightly stooped.
"Mr Grey," I breathed. "You wanted me?"
"Alice, yes." I could hear the lust coating those two words.
I moved towards him and waited to be told to be seated. He had enjoyed that little trick so much in the interview that I thought I'd try it again. I had never seen Mrs Grey do that but I was ad-libbing a little, letting a little bit of Alice shine through.
His eyes found my face and a hint of an internal battle played on his features, Do it, I willed him. Come to me. His amazingly grey eyes closed in a series of blinks as if he were capturing my image or trying to remember one from the past.
"Here, file these," he said, handing me a stack of papers.
Fuck! It wasn't going to happen tonight. Be patient, I coached myself. The bigger the pot of delayed gratification grows, the bigger the rewards.
I flashed a bright smile at him to mask my disappointment and stalked from the room.
Ana:
My hands twist in my lap as I listen to Christian begin speaking. I hear his voice crack under the strain and I don't think I've ever seen him look more scared. What makes my heart hurt the most is how much he looks like our son used to when he woke from the occasional childhood nightmare.
"I...I...I want to say sorry to Ana. I can't believe what I've put her through. It's been my duty to protect her all these years and I wind up being the one to inflict the most pain. I...never..." he stops, and looks at me. "I never meant it to go so far. I honestly didn't." We take a deep breath at the same time. He focuses his attention back to Flynn, our neutral audience of one.
"It started with a twinge. It came upon me suddenly, an urge to have someone in The Room. Things weren't going so well at work," I glance at him – this is the first I've ever heard of work issues. He nods but is still staring at Flynn. "I'd brought in some big-shot, some guy in his twenties. He was cocky, confident; he reminded me of me at that age. Anyway, he was great...he...was...better than me at my own job!"
I shake my head slightly. Christian falters for a second after the confession then resumes. "I felt pushed out a little, displaced. There was a new generation out there and they were blood-thirsty, mercenary. I didn't want to tell you about this, Ana." He turns to me again. "I didn't want you to know that I could feel threatened. I mean, I'm meant to be the big boss, not some guy young enough to be my son." It's his turn to shake his head.
"I think that was the trigger. I needed control – a kind of control I knew I could get from The Room. I tried to suppress it, and I managed to fight the urge for years. But it...it...overcame me one night. I was alone in Escala. You were out of town, you both were." He motions to me and Flynn. I tried to think back – where had I been? Visiting my mom?
"I felt so lonely, so alone. That was when I found my first Sub. Oh, God..." He breaks off, burying his head in his hands. I swallow, not sure I can take this. I see him compose himself, lift his head but he focuses on John.
"She came to the...the apartment. She was cheap, she turned my stomach." I take a sharp intake of breath. So she was cheap, she disgusted him but he still managed to take her into The Room? And yet he couldn't take me, his wife he professed to love?
"I'm so ashamed. It felt so wrong. She was so cold. She wasn't you, Ana." I think I'm going to vomit, a wave of nausea creeping up on me like an enemy. "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry."
And like a neglected child, he starts to rock, gently, comforting himself as he had been forced to in his childhood. My heart hurts, physically hurts for the damaged man sitting next to me. I thought we'd be OK when I married him, I thought he'd put his past to rest but sitting in this room, I realise he will never be fine. Like a true addict, this exists in him and always will. It's whether you can live with it - that's the real question, the voice warns.