Chapter Thirteen

The morning of Monday 8th August, 2011, Ana answers the phone to hear her assistant say, "A Dr. Greene for you, Mrs. Grey."

With Hannah being another of the people who apparently refuse to use her first name, Ana doesn't even bother correcting her anymore, merely saying, "Thanks. Put her through."

"Dr. Greene, hello. Anything wrong?"

"No, Mrs. Grey; just a follow up call. It's been six weeks since I inserted the implant. Any adverse side effects?"

Shocked that six weeks has gone by so quickly, even as she's surprised that it's only been that long since she and Christian got back together, Ana says, "Uh, no. I honestly forget about it most of the time. I haven't even had any bleeding. But you said that's normal, right?"

"I said it's common. Still, we should probably do a pregnancy test, just to be sure."

Her heart yammering and an instant headache looming, Ana says, "But…you said it's almost one hundred percent effective, and lasts for years. That's why I chose this method."

"Yes; less than one percent chance of failure. But, even with those odds, most women would rather be sure. If the test proves negative, as I expect it will, we can assume the implant has achieved full efficacy and you're protected for at least three years."

Relaxing a little at the woman's calm, professional manner, Ana says, "Yes, of course. You're right. When do you suggest we do this?"

"It won't take long. I can fit you in today, if you like? I'll check that the implant is in place, and do the pregnancy test while you wait. Does that suit?"

"Uh, yes, thank you. I'm busy this morning. But I can stop by this afternoon?"

"All right, Mrs. Grey. Shall we say…2:45?"

"Thank you. I'll see you then."

Ana tries, she really does try to focus on work. But she's obviously not doing very well, because a few people ask if she's okay. With morning meetings out of the way, she's finally able to seek solace the only way she's ever known; music and reading. With her ear buds in place and the usual pile of manuscripts before her, time finally starts to speed up and suddenly Hannah calls to remind her that it's time for her appointment. Even with the calming preparation, Ana's still a bundle of nerves by the time she's informing Dr. Greene's receptionist, "Mrs. Grey."

Checking the screen before her, the young woman says, "Of course, Mrs. Grey. Please take a seat. It won't be long."

Sure enough, only a few minutes later, she's told, "Mrs. Grey? The doctor is ready for you now."

Dr. Greene is her usual, efficient self and warmly greets Ana while shaking her hand, then says, "You're nervous about the test?"

Of course, she's terrified, but Ana thought she'd been doing a pretty good job of concealing that fact and asks, "What makes you say that?"

Gesturing to Ana's hand, she says, "You're sweating. It's warm in here, given the varying stages of undress women might endure, but Mary prefers it a little cool, so the waiting room is adjusted to suit her needs."

"Oh. Yes, I'm nervous. I know you said there's not much chance, but Christian and I are really not ready to be parents."

Still relaxed, apparently genuinely unconcerned, Dr. Greene hands Ana a familiar plastic container as she says, "Then lets allay your fears right now." Motioning to the small en suite, she adds, "You know what to do, I believe."

Muttering a "Thanks," Ana performs the necessary, wondering if anyone ever does it perfectly. After washing the sealed container and her hands, she returns the sample to the doctor – now wearing disposable gloves – who invites Ana to sit down and then immediately sets about finding the answer for them. Snapping off her gloves, she then says, "Well, Mrs. Grey, you're pregnant."

Some part of Ana's brain understands those words, but even so, the concept is too much for her and she can only manage, "What?"

Washing her hands and sitting down opposite her, the doctor patiently explains, "Pregnant. This is a very reliable test; the chances of it failing are very small indeed."

Moving quickly from denial to anger, Ana snaps, "That's what you said about the implant."

With only a small nod of agreement, Dr. Greene then asks, "What method of contraception did you use in that first week?"

"Condoms. Why?"

"Anything else?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, sorry. I forgot that…anyway: spermicides like gel, foam, film, cream or jelly. I presume you would have contacted me before opting for anything more complicated."

Vaguely recalling the literature on all these options, and more, Ana is shaking her head as she says, "No. Nothing like that, Christian doesn't even like condoms, but obviously understood the need for them."

"Condoms alone are still very effective. But that increases the chance that you fell pregnant before the implant became active to two percent." A pause and then, "Are you considering termination?"

Genuinely shocked, Ana says, "What? No. No, I couldn't…I mean, I don't think less of anyone who…no, it'll be okay." Suddenly thinking of a new fear, she paws at the inside of her left bicep, where a tiny scar and slightly raised lump signify the contraceptive implant site, as she almost frantically says, "Oh, God; what about the chemicals?"

Quickly rising from her seat and coming around to her, Dr. Greene calmly says, "It's all right, Mrs. Grey. The chemicals are compatible with the human body, and I'll remove the implant now. There's a chance you might have to endure an early term spontaneous abortion anyway – it's actually more common than people would like to believe – but the fetus should be unaffected after only this long under the influence of the hormones, okay?"

Focusing on her breathing, until it returns to normal, Ana says, "Okay. Thank you. You'll remove it right now?"

Inspecting the site as she speaks, the doctor nods and says, "Immediately; takes only a few minutes. Hmm…the implant is definitely still in place. My best guess is that you're between five and six weeks pregnant. But I'll do an intrauterine ultrasound, too. So we can see what's going on." Standing straight and resting a reassuring hand on Ana's shoulder, she continues, "Would you like a glass of water, first?"

Now prepared for any consequences, Ana says, "No, thank you. I'd rather just get this done."

Of course, Ana instantly falls in love with the tiny, white blip on the screen. When it suddenly disappears, she tenses and looks to the doctor, who smilingly asserts, "Just your muscles." Pointing to the screen, she says, "Look, already visible again. And, yes, about five weeks. Everything looks just fine. Congratulations, Mrs. Grey." Pausing the video, Dr. Greene then prints out a small screenshot and hands it to Ana, announcing, "Your baby."

Hypnotized by this new focus of her entire life, Ana just stares at the image for a while. Then shakes her head and says, "Christian is going to freak."

Quickly wrapping up the exam, Dr. Greene says "You can get dressed now," warily asking, as Ana complies, "Would you like me to be with you when you tell Mr. Grey?"

Alerted by the tone, Ana says, "Oh, no, I'm not worried. I don't think that he'll be very upset. It's just…well, it's at least a few years early." Finding yet another reason to be afraid, she asks, "Oh, I've sometimes been drinking wine. How bad is that?"

"How much and how often?"

"Uh, most days on our honeymoon…God, I was pregnant even then, but never more than two glasses at a time, and usually only one. Uh, pretty much only a few glasses a week since then, if that. I'm not much of a drinker, and Christian is even less so."

Already nodding, the doctor says, "Then you're fine. My advice is to avoid it completely, even while you're breastfeeding, assuming you decide to do so. But evidence suggests that a little won't cause permanent damage. Uh, we haven't actually discussed…pain and fear can put a strain on the body, too."

Guessing what she's talking about, Ana is bright red as she says, "Yes, I…we…that's part of our sex life. Is that really bad?"

"No, not bad. I'd just avoid the really heavy scenes, at least in the first trimester, only because your body might perceive that as stress; a very stressed body is not a friendly environment for a fetus. Sex itself is fine, possibly even a good thing; likewise with light play. For similar reasons I'd also avoid very strenuous exercise outside the bedroom or playroom, at least until we know this baby is here to stay, okay?"

"Okay. Though, from what Christian says, our scenes aren't really heavy. I'm more worried that…well, most days I have trouble getting into my office building because someone is trying to get a photo or statement. I find that stressful."

"Not much I can do about that, I'm afraid. But, I assure you, they won't find out about your condition from this office. Would you prefer that I visit you at home from now on? There is of course a charge for that service, but Mr. Grey has always been willing to pay."

Imagining what an average day will be like if…when, the news gets out that there's going to be an heir to the Grey fortune, Ana gratefully nods her head, saying, "Yes, please. We'll pay."

"All right. I'll be in touch to set up our next appointment." Fetching some papers from her desk, the doctor hands them over as she says, "Here's some information to get you started; diet, supplements, etcetera. Do you have any other questions?"

"Uh, tons, but none that leap to the front at the moment. I can call you if I think of anything that isn't in these pages?"

"Of course. Are you sure that you don't want a drink of water before you go?"

"No, thank you. I'll be fine. Women go through this all the time, right?"

"Certainly a lot of them."

Determined to attain a relaxed attitude, if only so she can get through the rest of her day, Ana smiles and says, "So, how I'd do; with one being calm and ten being panicked?"

The doctor finally smiles and says, "Well, I'd normally put you around a three. But, given that you're married to Christian Grey, I'll grant you a two. You seem to be bouncing back very quickly. But please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything, okay?"

Again that wary tone, and Ana suddenly understands why. "You're been to his apartment for something other than contraception, haven't you?" The doctor's immediate fear confirms it, and she continues, "Just one time, right? I wondered how he did that without repercussions. She hurt her arm?"

"Yes, one time. I'm not permitted to discuss the details."

Ana laughs and says, "Technically, neither am I. But since we both already know them, I don't think it matters. He said that was an accident."

"I believe him."

"Then why are you worried for me? Christian would never strike me in anger."

The doctor hesitates – Ana wonders if it's because this conversation is more personal than inserting an ultrasound wand inside her patient – and finally says, "Not the only way he can hurt you."

Surprisingly at ease now, Ana shrugs and says, "Oh, I expect a man-sized tantrum. But he'll get over it." Stowing the papers in her briefcase, Ana stands and offers her hand, saying, "Though I appreciate your concern, thank you. If you would please contact me directly, to set up the appointments? I trust my assistant completely, but the less people who know about this, the better. I know we can't keep it secret forever, but I'd like a moment for Christian to get used to the idea before it hits the headlines."

Standing and accepting the hand, Dr. Greene says, "Of course. Good luck. I'll see you soon."

Ryan is, of course, in the waiting room. On seeing her, he asks, "Everything okay, ma'am?"

Realizing that she's again not so relaxed as she'd thought, Ana covers with, "Just be grateful that you never have to endure a vaginal exam. I'm fine. It's just not much fun."

Ryan blanches and says, "I imagine not, ma'am. Can I do anything?"

Forcing a smile, Ana says, "Just take me back to the office, please."

With a driving need to think about anything other than her as yet unformed baby, and how to break the news to her volatile husband, Ana throws herself into work until Hannah eventually knocks and says, "Uh, all right if I leave now, Mrs. Grey?"

Glancing at the time, to see that she's lost a couple of hours, Ana says, "Oh, hell. Yes, go. Sorry about that. I'll see you in the morning."

When a grateful Hannah thanks her and disappears, Ana texts Christian that she's running late – her heart pounding at the words unsaid – then quickly packs up and heads for home. When she hesitates before getting out of the car, Ryan again asks if she's all right. Ana fobs him off with a comment about a persistent headache; not actually a lie. Apparently satisfied, he escorts her safely to the elevator and heads back to take care of her car.

As the digital numbers climb, Ana's dread increases. No one is there to greet her when the doors open. It's unusual, but not enough to worry about. Glad of the momentary reprieve, her feet point towards the bedroom. Suddenly, she's grabbed from behind and thrust against the wall as Christian growls, "You're late."

Dominant Christian, and she can feel that he's also horny. Ana considers for a moment just letting this play out, because he'll at least be in a better mood. But it doesn't seem right, and sex is honestly the last thing on her mind right now. So she says, "I'm sorry, baby. But could we please eat, first? I, uh, skipped lunch." Again, not a lie, though she only realized this instant that she'd completely forgotten to eat; like the old days, when Christian made her nervous enough to remove her appetite.

Christian tenses, then grabs Ana's hips and pulls her back against him, leaving her in no doubt that he means it when he says, "Okay, but you owe me a fuck, Mrs. Grey, and you'll have to be punished for neglecting your health. However, I'm prepared to go easy on you for confessing your crime."

It's the man she loves, the playful one who is always thinking of ways to please them both. The knowledge that, if her courage finds voice, she'll ruin his evening makes her heart sink. Somehow, he senses her unease and turns her to face him, asking, "Okay, baby?"

It worked before, so she says, "Just a headache."

Frowning in concern, Christian says, "I thought you don't get them anymore?" When Ana only shrugs, he angrily asks, "Still? Why the fuck didn't you tell me?"

"Maybe because you overreact when I do so?"

His eyes narrow dangerously and Christian warns, "You're feeling brave tonight, baby. Sure you want to play this game?"

Suddenly finding the whole thing very funny, Ana giggles and says, "Why not; might as well earn it if I'm going to be punished."

Christian's anger immediately vanishes. His expression tender, he comments, "You're in a very odd mood. I think you'd better eat." Picking up her briefcase, from where it had fallen during the friendly ambush, he takes her hand and leads Ana towards their bedroom, saying, "I'll ask Gail to serve. You've got just enough time to freshen up."

"Thank you."

Christian darts yet another concerned glance her way at these words, but says nothing. He escorts her to the door and lifts the briefcase, asking, "By your desk?"

Her desk; the beautiful, mahogany creation that Christian bought just last week and placed by the collection of books she loves so much, in order that she can work from home in comfort and solitude. Just the memory of his shyness on revealing it to her – he'd been worried that she'd feel it wasn't enough, actually apologizing and promising a splendid office in their new home when it's finally ready – threatens her resolve so much that she suddenly feels like weeping. Pushing words past the sudden painful lump in her throat, Ana still can't achieve more than, "Thank you."

Putting a hand under her chin to lift her gaze to his, Christian begs, "Can I do anything for you, baby? I hate to see you suffering."

She almost tells him then; his compassion lending her courage she wouldn't have thought possible. Actually opening her mouth to say the words, Ana then shakes her head and says, "No, thank you. I'm sure I'll feel better after I eat."

Placing an achingly tender kiss on her lips, Christian releases her and sadly says, "Okay, baby. I'll be in the dining room."

About to again thank him, Ana instead says, "I won't be long."

Every move she makes, even the incredibly mundane ones, now take on a different meaning. Sitting on the toilet, she wonders at what point in the pregnancy her bladder will be compressed by the baby enough to need frequent toilet breaks. Redressing, she runs a hand over her still fairly flat stomach as she ponders the fact that she'll soon need an entire new wardrobe. As she washes her hands, a surprisingly vivid image of a baby small enough to be washed in this very basin actually makes her hands tremble. Staring at her reflection, she berates, "You're a coward. Just tell him."

"Tell me what?" Oh, fuck.

Now actually weak at the knees with fear, Ana turns and grasps the edge of the counter to keep from falling. Approaching, Christian calmly says, "I just wanted to tell you, while I thought of it, that I might have to go to Taiwan, this week or the next, for a few days." Now almost to her, he deceptively gently repeats, "Tell me what?"

There's no getting out of it now. She knows him well enough to understand that nothing she says or does will divert him from finding the answer to that question. Dimly aware of the pain in her hands where they're now clenching the cool marble, she says, "I'm pregnant."

"What?"

Remembering reacting with exactly that when Dr. Greene had broken the news, Ana giggles, the high pitch of her laugh an indication of her stress, and says, "Pregnant, knocked up, with child, bun in the oven, preggers…"

"Enough!"

It's the voice she can't ignore and Ana is immediately silenced, though she can feel hysteria only a moment away. When Christian suddenly and brutally grabs her arm, she idly wonders if he's capable of violence after all. But it's much, much worse. When he lifts her arm and rips the sticking plaster off, she knows that he's checking whether the wound is fresh and realizes that he's seriously considering the possibility that she may have chosen to become pregnant against his wishes and without discussing it. A blackness is crowding in on her vision and her head and heart are ready to explode as she this time snidely says, "Thank you."

He looks guilty at that, apparently sensing that he's crossed some line. But the next moment his fury returns and he demands, "Well, how the fuck did this happen? We've been so careful."

"Our baby is approximately five weeks old, which means that he or she was conceived while we were using only condoms, before the implant became effective."

This knowledge at least removes the rage from his eyes. Christian runs a hand through his hair and says, "Well, fuck, that's unlucky. But it's okay, baby. We'll take care of it. You won't have to go through this alone."

Somehow guessing that his meaning is the opposite of what she'd intend by such a statement, Ana is now fighting rising bile when she vows, "I'm not getting an abortion."

Apparently truly shocked at this declaration, Christian just stares at her for several seconds, then says, "Well…what the fuck, Ana? Have you forgotten that we still live in the same apartment in which I've enthusiastically fucked fifteen other women? That our house won't be ready for weeks…maybe months? Or that I'm still seeing a fucking shrink twice a week for problems that have plagued me since childhood? Never mind the fact that we barely know each other. We can't do this now. You won't go to hell for it. Hell is what happens when parents have a baby before they're ready. Believe me, I know this for a fucking fact. You will get an abortion. It's the only sensible choice."

Suddenly, irrationally at ease with her decision, perhaps because she has her answer – Christian won't be supporting her – Ana stands straight on her now steady legs and says, "Then I'd rather not be sensible. I'm having this baby, with or without you."

Shaking his head, clearly struggling to understand, Christian now looks afraid as he says, "Baby, please, see reason. We can't do this. I'm still…we'll fuck it up. Do you know what it would do to me if I failed at being a parent?"

That almost sways her, because she does know him, better than he will ever suspect, so she understands that, for Christian, fear of letting down his own child is surpassed only by his fear of losing her. As gently as possible, she says, "Yes, darling, I know. But, if I let you persuade me to kill our baby, we will have already failed."

Finally, she sees the beginning of comprehension cross his gaze, but it's fleeting. In the next instant, he's spinning on his heel, saying, "Fuck this. You're on your own."

Dropping to her knees on the cold tiles, Ana announces to an empty room "Yes, I am," before finally giving in to the tears.