NOTE FROM RIOTTORI: THANKS ONCE AGAIN FOR THE REVIEWS. SOME OF YOU HAVE EXPRESSED THE OPINION THAT ANA 'FORGIVES' CHRISTIAN TOO SOON. I'M TRYING TO KEEP 'TRUE' TO THE CHARACTERS AND I THINK THAT ANA WOULD TRY TO MAKE HER MARRIAGE WORK. IT'S NOT EASY AND SHE HASN'T FORGIVEN HIM COMPLETELY PER SE. ONE THING YOU ALL SEEM TO BE UNITED ON IS YOUR RAMPANT DISLIKE OF ALICE. ;) HERE'S A LITTLE MORE BEFORE I GO TO WORK - WHICH TOTALLY GETS IN THE WAY OF MY WRITING BTW. I MAY HAVE TO QUIT!

Ana:

We sit in silence for a while, his apologies echoing in the room around us. My mind is trying to digest what he has confessed, is trying to digest the voice's warning. I need to make sense of this, to wade through the words and find the ones that will help us; leave the others that will only drag us down.

"Why didn't you talk to me Christian?" My voice is soft, patient. "One thing I prided myself on was having good communication with you. To be able to talk things through."

The voice sneers at me. Don't be such a hypocrite. You didn't say anything to him when you found the contract. You've been living with this secret locked inside you for eight years.

He sighs. "I didn't know how to tell you. God, that sounds like a cliché." He runs both hands through his hair. "But it's true. I tried to bury the nagging feeling. Running helped, so did talking to John." I rear back a little when he says this. Irrationally, I'm jealous – jealous that he could talk to Flynn and not me.

I look at Flynn, watch his slow nod. "Before the first Sub?" I ask, my question directed to both of them.

"Yes," Christian says. "And after."

I feel winded, like Christian's words have reached down and punched me, low in the gut. This had never occurred to me before, that John knew. Back to naïve little Ana. I always thought that Christian had kept this inside, not confessed anything to either me or Flynn. I thought John and I were both equally in the dark. But no, Flynn was in cahoots with my husband, allowing him to cheat.

Anger rears its ugly head and uses me as a mouth-piece.

"You knew?"

Flynn blinks, sits a little straighter in his chair.

"Yes, Ana. But don't forget the patient-doctor confidentiality. I am sworn..."

"So where was your 'patient-doctor confidentiality' when you first talked to me about Christian, encouraged me to start a relationship with him? I came to you Flynn," I spit his name out, like it's a bad taste in my mouth, "I told you I was worried about this. This here." I gesture around me, as if my pain were in the room with us, a silent onlooker.

Christian's mouth is open as he tries to take in my words. He turns to Flynn. "What is she talking about Flynn?" His words have turned to ice, crystallized and sharp.

"Ana came to see me."

"When?"

"I can't remember now. Some time ago."

"When?" He's not shouting, his voice is practically a whisper. It serves to make him even more frightening.

I know the answer but I remain mute.

"Just...just after the last time you went into The Red Room."

"And what did you discuss?"

Flynn shakes his head. "Christian, I took an oath. I can't tell you what we discussed..."

"Then I will." The passion of my words, the heat rising from my anger, thaws some of the ice my husband has created. "I told him I was worried you might cheat. I suppose Elena's jibes that I wouldn't be enough for you, to keep you, were haunting me. I came to Flynn after the...the last time in The Red Room."

"And what did he tell you, Ana?" His steady gaze never leaves Flynn's face. I can feel the doctor squirming in his chair.

"That you were...cured."

Christian starts to laugh. A slow, mirthless laugh.

"That was before the first Sub. You can't blame me for your actions," Flynn starts.

"No, I'm blaming you for your actions. How dare you not tell me about my wife's fears?"

"I took an oath," he repeats again.

"You could have saved us," I say. "You had the two parts of the puzzle in your hands. My fears, and Christian's desires. You could have prevented this. We should have been here 16 years ago! Not now. It's much easier to prevent something from breaking than repair it after the damage is done!" I rise, unable to look at Flynn, this man I had trusted, who I had confided in. Christian may have put the nails in the coffin but Flynn had provided the hammer.

I walk to the door, hear Flynn spluttering excuses and feel my husband's hands go around my shoulders, supporting me, on my side.

"We're done!" He says, throwing his words over his shoulder to Flynn, the parting shot.

I am so angry I'm trembling as we head downstairs and out onto the street. Christian turns to me, cups my face in his hands and I let him.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Fucking Flynn!"

I don't know what to say. It feels like another betrayal.

"What are we going to do now?" he asks.

But I don't have any answers.

Alice:

I watch them from the safety of my little beat-up car. He holds her head in his hands. She is shaking her head a little, taking his hands with her. She looks upset, hurt. Good, I think. The cracks are showing, the cracks that I have created, inflicted upon them. I will use those cracks to seep through. I know I will.