The morning comes that I have to say goodbye to my son, and even though I know it's only temporary, I can't help but feel an overwhelming sense of loneliness wash over me. Teddy has been all I have to keep myself going these last six months, my last real tie to Christian, and now I'm watching him board a plane with Mia and Sawyer, knowing I won't see him again for at least a month, depending on whether I take up Grace's invitation to her little family reunion at the end of the summer.

I give one last wave to my son and Mia before I turn around and leave the airport, trying to control my emotions. Without a doubt, I will miss my baby boy. We haven't been separated for more than two weeks in all the time he's been alive, but even then it was easier. I know that if I call to speak with him I'll risk having to speak with Christian. Chatting with Teddy over Skype will almost guarantee being forced to see my husband.

I've got one month. One month to decide about the end of summer party in Bellevue. One month to decide whether I can be in Christian's presence without either breaking down or beating the shit out of him. One month to decide how much longer I'm going to put Teddy and myself through the separation from our family. One month to decide if I can live with the man who broke my heart into a million pieces and betrayed me. For the moment, though, I have to get through today without my son. I know this is the best thing for him right now, seeing his father. I only hope it won't make things worse in the long run, for any of us.

The apartment is dark and quiet when I get home, which only adds to my feeling of loneliness and abandonment. It makes me wonder if this was how Christian felt a week after I found out the truth when he came home from work to find his family and their possessions gone. I hadn't wanted to leave like that without a word, but I just couldn't face another fight, so like the coward I am, I left him a letter on top of his pillow. I can imagine him sitting on the edge of our bed, reading the words I left for him to find. I imagine he cried when he understood the implications of the letter. I hate seeing him cry, I hate being the one to make him cry. It seems fitting, though; he spent almost six years making me cry, so I was only returning the favor. Cold. Heartless. Bitter. Resentful. Angry. Those are the feelings Christian understands above all others, so that is what I left him.

Sighing heavily, I sit on the sofa and switch on the laptop. I received some information from my new job that they've asked me to read in order to bring myself up to speed with some of their clients. There will be a meeting Monday morning with myself, my predecessor, and the senior editor I'll be reporting to directly and I'm looking forward to this more than anything—god knows I need the distraction with Teddy gone...

As I'm scrolling through my email inbox for the one I'm looking for, a new message arrives and I automatically scroll back to the very top of the list. My heart flips over at the sight of sender's name: Christian Grey.

I open the message, uncertain whether I can handle this right now, and scan the email warily.

From: Christian Grey

Subject: Teddy's visit

To: Anastasia Grey

Dear Anastasia,

Mia just phoned to let me know she and Teddy are taking off from London. I just wanted to say thank you for allowing Teddy to stay with me for the next few weeks; you've no idea what it means to me. I have missed him more than I ever thought would be possible and the video chats just aren't cutting it at the moment.

Mia also says she invited you to my parents' end of the summer party. I sincerely hope you will consider joining us. Among other things, you and I have a lot to talk about. It's been six months, Ana; we need to decide where things lie between us, one way or another. I understand if you're not ready to talk to me yet and you are absolutely right to feel that way, but we can't keep going on like we have been. I want the chance to fight for you, to fight for us, and I can't do that when you're on a different continent. Up until now, I think I've been very patient with this... arrangement. And if you decide you want to live your life separately from mine, I will give you whatever you want.

I truly hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. You and our son are my entire life, Anastasia, and I miss you both so very much. My life is empty without you and I want you home again.

I know I can't push you into making a decision—I lost that right when I hurt you—but please, come back home for a few days, see our family, talk to me. Please don't give up on me yet.

I love you more than you can ever comprehend, Ana. In time, I hope I can prove this to you.

Yours always,

Christian

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

I can't quite work out if I'm angrier than I am sad or vice versa after the fifth time I read his words. In the six months that I've been away from him, this is only the second time he's attempted contact with me directly. I know what he's trying to do: he's trying to guilt me into a decision, demonstrate the power he holds over me. I note he didn't actually address the reasons I left him, which tells me he either doesn't think this is enough to end us or that my memory is so horrible that I've forgotten what he's put me through.

"Fuck you, Christian," I mutter to the computer screen, deleting the email without even considering responding. As I find the email I was looking for originally, I realize Christian was right about one thing: six months has been more than enough time to decide what I'm going to do next. It's time to put up or shut up.

I lean against the black SUV, my eyes trained on the plane that's just landed, and start to feel nervous and impatient for the door to open. I've been checking my phone every five minutes, hoping Ana might reply to the email I sent her this morning after the call from Mia, but no such luck. Honestly, I didn't really expect an immediate response, despite all my hopes to the contrary. Thus far, she's refused all my attempts to speak with her, so why would now be any different.

My only chance to get her back lies with her decision of whether she will be attending my parents' party in a month's time. I'm desperate to see her, I've been in constant pain since the night she left me, and I need her. I suppose it would be understandable if she decides our marriage can no longer go on after what I did to her, but I refuse to let her go without one last fight.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the door to the plane opens and the stairs descend. It's another minute or so before I finally see Mia standing in the doorway, but my eyes drift down to the little boy standing directly in front of her. My son; my beautiful, perfect, sweet, baby boy. He's grown so much in six months, more than I realized during our Skype chats. His blue eyes, exactly like his mother's, scan the area eagerly until they find me, and when they do, his little face lights up in happiness and joy that I know my expression is returning.

"Daddy!" He bolts down the stairs as I walk quickly towards him, unable to stop the tears pouring from my eyes. When I finally reach him, I snatch him off his feet, wrapping my arms around him and holding him close. He returns the embrace with his little arms around my neck, holding on for dear life and I bury my face in his hair, memorizing how he feels and smells in case the worst that could happen comes true and this visit becomes how things will be for the rest of our lives. I'm crying. Teddy is crying. Neither of us wants to release the other. God, how I've missed him...

When I finally pull away from him enough to look him in the face, I smile, matching the wide smile on his face. "I missed you, baby boy," I murmur, pressing my lips against his forehead. "I love you."

"Love you, Daddy," he tells me in his sweet voice, resting his head against my shoulder.

Once I've composed myself enough, I look around to find Mia also in tears. I give her a shaky smile that she returns and hold out an arm to embrace her as well while Sawyer and Taylor quickly load her and Teddy's luggage in the back of the car. Unfortunately this means I have to release my hold on Teddy in order to buckle him into his booster seat. As we drive, my eyes are trained solely on my boy while he tells me about his plane ride with Auntie Mia. Auntie Mia in the meantime is busy tapping away on her cell phone. She seems to sense my gaze and looks up at me, raising a questioning eyebrow and flushing a little.

"I promised Ana I'd let her know when we landed," she tells me rather sheepishly.

I suck in a breath, but nod my acknowledgement. Of course she did. Ana deserves to know her son has arrived safely in Seattle. I cannot fault her for that. My annoyance rises, however, when a mere two minutes after Mia texted Ana there is a response. Well, it seems my wife has no problem responding to everyone else... I want to know what Ana's text says, but I will not start this discussion in front of my son.

When we arrive home, which for the first time in six months actually feels like home, Teddy runs ahead of us and up the stairs to his bedroom, probably to find the toys he left behind, and I gesture for Mia to follow me into the kitchen. "Well?" I say without preamble.

My sister raises an eyebrow. "Well what?"

I close my eyes, trying not to lose my patience. "How is she, Mia?"

Sighing, Mia sits down at the bar as I pour us a couple glasses of wine. "Only slightly better than you," she tells me bluntly. "But I think that was all a front." I nod, feeling relieved that I'm not the only one suffering. Then, of course, I feel guilty that my wife is suffering and I'm the one who caused it. "Look, I don't know what you did, because she flat out refused to tell me. I have my own theories, though, and if I'm right you are the stupidest son of a bitch on this fucking planet, Christian."

I look at my sister in surprise. She's never taken quite this tone with me before. "Mia..." I say quietly with no idea what I'm supposed to say to her. I haven't told any of my family what happened with me and Ana. They know there was a fight and that she left suddenly. They've probably all come to the same conclusions as Mia, but none of them has confronted me about it. Well, Kate has tried, but I shut her down pretty quickly. The truth is I am positively terrified to confirm their suspicions. I couldn't handle it if I lost the rest of my family as well.

You'd deserve it... You've skated along on their love practically your entire life, trying to deserve everything they gave you. You tried to be a good son, a good brother, a good husband, a good father. But at the end of the day, you're not a good person, are you? You're a miserable bag of bones who hurts anyone who gets close to you. And you can't change.

"Look," Mia says with a sigh, finishing off her glass of wine. I look up at her slowly, trying to push away my dark thoughts. "I'll leave you to spend time with your son. Don't forget dinner tonight with Mom and Dad."

"I won't," I promise her hoarsely. "Thank you for flying him home."

Mia gives me a tiny smile as she walks around the bar to kiss my cheek. "Stop beating yourself up for a change, Christian. Enjoy the time you have with Teddy. He's what's important right now, okay?" I nod my agreement. No matter the state of my relationship with my wife, I will not let my son suffer. This is our time. I need to make the most of it. Mia is leaving the kitchen, but turns around for one last comment. "If it's any consolation, she misses you. She didn't say as much, of course, but I know the signs."

My eyes close again, this time as my heart breaks even further. Ana is alone in London, missing me, missing our son. When I open my eyes again, Mia is gone and once I compose myself enough, I make my way upstairs to find my son.

On Teddy's third night in Seattle, I tuck him into bed, read him a story, and kiss him goodnight, as had been the ritual since the day he was born. I head into my study with the intention of doing a little bit of work while he sleeps—I've taken the month off to make the most of this visit. My phone vibrates, startling me out of reading the latest news from GEH from Ros, and I automatically reach out blindly to accept the call.

"Grey," I snap, not knowing who could be calling at this hour.

The person on the other end is silent for several seconds before I hear them suck in shaky breath. "Christian?"

My heart has stopped again and I very nearly drop the phone in shock at hearing her voice. "Ana," I practically whimper in response.

"Hi," she says.

"Hi."

We're silent for far too long. What am I supposed to say to her? All my apologies and begging and promises have left my brain, and I find that all I want right now is to hear her voice. She clears her throat. "I suppose it's too late to speak to Teddy..."

"I just tucked him in," I say quickly, refusing to let silence reign anymore. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," she replies just as quickly. "I meant to call earlier, but I sort of lost track of time."

"Oh."

She sighs. "How is he? Is he having a good time?"

"Yes, I think so," I reply, scrambling for conversation points. "We've gone to the zoo, spent some time with my parents and Kate and Elliot and Ava... We're heading out onto the boat this weekend."

"That sounds nice," she replies distractedly, wistfully. Of course all these things we had once done as a family. Will we ever have that time back?

I feel her slipping away, even over the telephone, but before she goes, I have to know... "How are you, Anastasia?"

She lets out a heavy breath of what sounds like frustration. "How do you think I am, Christian?" she asks sharply. I press my lips together to hold back the retort of I have fucking idea; I haven't seen you for six fucking months as I know it will not help matters in the slightest. "Look," she goes on, her tone much less hostile, "I just called to speak to Teddy. It's very late here and I have an early meeting. When would be a good time to call back?"

Of course my first instinct is to demand to know what meeting she has in the morning, but I hold my tongue for a change. "Anytime before his bedtime is good, Anastasia," I tell her. "I'll make absolutely certain he's nearby for whenever you get the chance to call."

"Good," she replies, feigning a cheerful tone. "Thank you, Christian. I appreciate it."

Anything for you, baby... "Before you go," I say, desperate to keep her on the line, "I was wondering if you'd thought anymore about coming to my parents' party."

"I'll have to get back to you on that," she tells me. "It depends on whether I can get the time off from work."

"Oh," I respond dumbly, "right, of course."

I know exactly what's going on in her mind right now: Does he know I've got a new job and with whom? Well, the answer is no on both counts. I have assigned a security detail for her and Teddy, but they report directly to Taylor and I only get news when it's absolutely necessary. This was Taylor's insistence. I nearly fired the fucker when he told me this was how things would be going. But considering what I've done and the fact that I ordered Taylor to lie to my wife just as I had been, I didn't see any choice in making this allowance. Taylor has always been protective of Anastasia, since the very beginning, and this was his way of protecting her from further hurt. From me.

"Right," she says suspiciously. "Well, I should go. Give Teddy my love."

"I will," I promise her. I want to tell her that I love her, that I miss her, but the words catch in my throat, and by the time they find their way out, the line goes quiet and I know she's gone. I drop my phone back to the desk and stare unseeingly at my computer screen, no longer interested in work. Instead, I am catapulted to a night six months ago, the night when everything came crashing down, when my life ended. The guilt comes back full force and I feel myself descending into my own personal hell as I remember in startling detail the look of utter devastation and betrayal on my wife's face, knowing I was the one to cause that.

I really am a fucking monster...