The next couple weeks go by surprisingly fast and before I know it, I'm finishing my first week at Canton Publishing. So far I absolutely love it. Unlike when I started at SIP with Jack Hyde as my boss, I feel like a useful member of the team, like they value my opinion, and truly enjoy my company. Actually, this is the first time I've felt this way anywhere in the last few years; that realization hits suddenly and I pause halfway through a word I'm writing. Shaking myself, I return to my work and think about the changes I've made to my life since Teddy went to spend time with Christian.

I took the apartment I looked at. It only took me half a day to pack up all our belongings and move it into the new place. I'm happy with it; by my pre-Christian Grey standards, the place is huge. It's open and bright, all the appliances work the way they should; there are three bedrooms—though I'm not entirely sure why this was a selling point for me, since it's just me and Teddy—and a large patio. And there is little doubt that the place wouldn't get Christian Grey's immediate seal of approval should he ever visit; not only does the building employ its own security but all residents are required to enter a pin number to get into the underground garage as well as access the elevators and the different floors of the building. For the first week, I kept getting the numbers mixed up and it generally took me half an hour to get from outside the building to my apartment.

The most important fact about it is I think Teddy is going to absolutely love this place. He's got room to run around to his little heart's content, unlike the other apartment. We're high enough in the building that we've got a beautiful view of London. More than once I've found myself comparing it to Escala, which immediately reminds me why I'm here in the first place and not in Seattle with my husband and son.

I've spoken to Teddy several times since that first phone call with Christian. Every time Teddy rather than his father has answered the phone, I felt both relieved and disappointed—relieved because putting us through yet another awkward, tense conversation could only make things worse; disappointed because despite everything, I really do miss my husband. Teddy seems to be having a good time, at least. From what I've been able to gather, Christian seems to have taken several days off work to spend time with his son. I'm happy to hear this; one of the things I dreaded about Teddy going to Seattle for the rest of the summer was him being left alone with Gail or Christian's parents or another family member while Christian kept on working.

Last night when I called to talk to Teddy, I asked him to hand the phone to Christian to confirm I would be attending the end of summer/family reunion get together at his parents' house. He seemed shocked that I requested to speak with him at all—truth was so was I. I suppose I could have called Grace directly, or even Kate, but I figured that at some point I'd have to speak with my husband again, so I might as well be the mature one and tell him myself. Immediately he offered me use of the GEH jet and I immediately declined, telling him I was perfectly happy flying commercially. He'd sighed heavily and I could imagine him rubbing his temples as he tried not to lose his temper with me.

"Ana, please," he'd said quietly, pleadingly. "Let me do this for you. I need to know you're safe."

I'd rolled my eyes, wanting desperately to argue, but decided to give him this slight concession. "Fine, I'll take the jet," I'd said with a weary sigh.

He'd sighed in relief that we'd avoided a fight. "Thank you," he'd whispered. When he'd spoken next, there was a slight reluctant edge to his tone. "And please, Ana, don't roll your eyes at me."

I'd almost laughed, but settled for a sad smile to myself.

We'd said goodbye and that was the end of it. I then proceeded to spend what little remained of my evening with a bottle of wine and woke up this morning feeling sad and slightly hung over.

"Ana?"

I turn away from my work to glance into Thomas' office questioningly. "Yes?"

"Why don't you go ahead and wrap it up for the evening?" he suggested with a smile. "I've still got a fair bit to do here, so I'll be staying late, but there's no reason for you to do the same."

I return the smile. "I appreciate the offer," I say sincerely, "but if you're staying, I will as well. No point for you to stay here alone."

He raises an eyebrow at me, smiling, and for what probably has to be the hundredth time since I met him, I melt a little at the sight. He's no Christian Grey, but Thomas Canton has a charm all his own and I'm liking it more and more the longer I work with him. "Well, if you insist," he conceded. "How about I order some Chinese and you can help me get through these manuscripts?"

Within an hour, Thomas and I are sitting cross-legged on the floor of his office surrounded by Chinese takeout boxes and stacks of manuscripts with post-it notes stuck to nearly every page. As we eat, we chat about non-work things. We chat about places we've been, experiences we've had, and we realize we know some of the same people, mostly those I never would have met if it hadn't been for Christian—notable names in the publishing world and the like. Several of them, we agree, are pompous assholes who wouldn't know a good book if it bit them on the nose. For the first time since Mia and Teddy left I find myself laughing with abandon as I listen to some of Thomas's stories.

I forget we're supposed to be working by the time Thomas passes me a fortune cookie before taking his own. We open them almost in unison and I remove the little slip of paper inside mine, reading it, then rereading it several times to make sure I'm actually seeing what I think I'm seeing: If you feel you are right, stand firmly by your convictions.

Seriously?

I look up when I hear Thomas chuckle, raising my eyebrow questioningly. He clears his throat and adopts a pompous tone. "A new wardrobe brings great joy and change to your life," he reads before shaking his head and popping a piece of cookie into his mouth. "Can't say I've ever been one to enjoy buying new clothes..."

I laugh, balling up my fortune and tossing it aside and eating my cookie. Eventually we do get around to some actual work and before either of us knows it, it's nearly nine o'clock. Thomas offers me a ride home, apologizing for keeping me late as I gather my things. "Thomas, really, it's fine," I insist. "It's not like I've got anyone to be home for."

He gives me a small smile, but doesn't comment and we leave the building, heading for his car. The ride to my new apartment is enjoyable enough and when we arrive outside the building, we're both reluctant for me to get out of the car. "Well," Thomas says, turning to me with a smile, "thank you for staying late with me and keeping me company. I must say you're a much better conversationalist than Alvin." I laugh; his smile widens. "Nicer to look at, too."

My amusement begins to fade. As nice as it is to hear somebody say something like that, I can't let Thomas get the wrong idea. Luckily, he figures this out before I can think of anything to say. "I don't mean anything by that, Ana," he says gently. "Besides, when you've spent as long as I have staring into that old craggy face, you'd be relieved to have a change of scenery, too."

I smile again. "Right," I say, grabbing my purse. "Well, thank you for dinner and the ride home. I suppose I'll see you tomorrow morning."

"Good night, Ana," Thomas says softly as I exit the car.

Fuck!

As I get into the elevator to get to my apartment, I'm cursing myself and I'm not entirely certain why. Part of me is angry about letting my relationship with Thomas even begin to edge towards something slightly less professional, while the other part couldn't be happier and is currently opening several bottles of champagne in celebration. I try to reason with myself that Thomas was being nice, that he was trying to make me feel more comfortable, and so what if we get along so well and can laugh with each other while we work. It doesn't mean anything will come of it. Christian would undoubtedly call me naïve for not realizing Thomas might want more, and in years past, I might have been a bit too naïve, but after the last six months, I like to think I've gotten a little more cynical, not believing the best of anybody until they've proved themselves to me. I know that's a byproduct of being betrayed by the one person in the world I should have been able to trust without hesitation.

And anyway, even if things between Thomas and me did go beyond work, that would be my business. I'm allowed to have friends, especially if my husband is going to have mistresses. Before this, I never even considered being with another man besides Christian; I had no desire to. Christian satisfied every need or want I've ever had. I know if I were to ever be with someone else romantically I'd feel guilty, but maybe I need to consider exploring other options. There is a very good chance Christian and I won't be able to reconcile after what he did, and eventually I'll want to move on.

Opening my apartment door, I'm fighting tears. Who am I kidding? Nobody could ever replace Christian in my life. For so long he was my everything. I lived and breathed for that man. Since watching that video of him and that woman in Escala, I've felt like I lost some fundamental part of myself, a part that I'll never have again.

That may be true, says my subconscious in an uncharacteristically kind, gentle tone, but maybe you can build up a new part. This situation has the potential to strengthen you. You have to decide whether you want to let it or not.

Eventually I manage to calm myself down enough to call and have my nightly chat with Teddy before going to bed. It never fails to cheer me up to hear him so happy and animated as he describes all the things around him. I miss having him here with me, but I know it's good for him to spend time with Christian, too. No matter what happens between us, I will never keep my son from his father. It's bad enough I've taken Teddy to another country, making it difficult for Christian to see him as often as he would like, but maybe with time I'll be able to return to Seattle. Or if not Seattle, somewhere closer. Portland, maybe...

As he's done during every conversation, Teddy offers to let me talk to Christian. And as I've done during every conversation, I decline, telling Teddy that it's very late here and I have to get some sleep before work in the morning. He accepts this, thankfully, and I tell him I love him and that I'll see him at the end of the summer.

We say our goodbyes and I put aside my phone, feeling anything but tired. Honestly, I can't remember the last time I had a full night's sleep. Regardless, I grab a glass of water, a book, and head into my bedroom where I flop down on the bed, thankful to myself that I had a touch of selfishness and indulged in a bit of self-spoiling. This is so much more comfortable than that old couch...

By the time I'm preparing to leave for Seattle for three days, I'm feeling better than I have in years. I absolutely love my job. I might just be an assistant to an editor, whereas at Grey Publishing I was running everything, but I feel like my opinion matters around there. Thomas is genuinely eager to hear my thoughts about new manuscripts and even on existing clients. There have been a few that have had the company's business for decades, but some of the authors seemed to have stopped trying. When I commented about one in particular, Thomas sort of looked at me and I felt like at any moment he was about to tell me to pack up my desk, but he just nodded thoughtfully and asked me to arrange meetings to discuss our issues with aforementioned authors to get them back on track.

Outside of work, I'm finding Thomas and I are becoming fast friends. We've had dinner together several times since that night at the office and we're getting to know each other better. Last night I even invited him to my apartment for a couple drinks and we sat around talking for hours. I found myself telling him what brought Teddy and me to London in the first place, about Christian's affair, and it was amazing how liberating it was to be able to talk to an outsider. He was sympathetic, telling me in turn about his ex-wife's affair about six years ago. It about destroyed him, much like this was doing to me, but eventually he realized he needed to put the pieces back together and move on with his life. I almost expected him to make a move on me, to take advantage of my vulnerability, and I was almost disappointed when he thanked me for the drinks, wished me luck in Seattle, and said good night.

After he left, I checked my email quickly before bed and found one from Christian informing me that the GEH plane would be awaiting me at the airport bright and early tomorrow and that a car would be in front of my building to pick me up. I know better than to ask how he knows where I live. It's not even a surprise after all this time. I replied to thank him and tell him I would see him soon. I wanted to add an I love you, but it didn't seem right to give either of us any false hope for our situation.

Next morning I wake bright and early. I'm just finishing a quick breakfast when the intercom beside my door buzzes; it's the security desk to inform me there is a car waiting for me and asking if I require any help with my bags. I decline. I've got one duffel bag and a backpack in addition to my purse, and I think I can handle getting myself to the elevator and out the front door.

I'm greeted by an SUV that so resembles Christian's fleet at home that I half expect him and Taylor to be there. Instead, there's a driver who immediately takes my bags from me to load them in the car, and a man I've never seen before. It's no real surprise to me to find out Christian sent him as security. I sigh resignedly to myself as I shake his hand before he ushers me into the car so we can make our way to the airport.

During the drive, I feel myself getting more nervous than I can remember being. I'm about to face things I haven't wanted to face since I left Seattle. I'm about to confront my husband and discover whether we can ever be together again. At the thought, I reach behind me for my backpack, searching for the folder I made sure to pack. I know this is going to cause the mother of all fights between Christian and me, but it's a necessity in our situation. The upside to all this is I get to see my family for the first time in far too long. I know they will all have questions for me, questions that couldn't have possibly been satisfied by my brief conversations with Mia. I'm going to have to tell them the truth, at least some of them, and I'm dreading it. I certainly don't want to go on with them thinking I just up and left Christian on a whim, but there are some details I really don't want to divulge. They would have been blind if they hadn't seen Christian and I were having troubles to begin with, and for all I know Christian confided in one of his family members.

As much as he hurt me, though, I don't want to ruin the relationship his he has with his family, particularly his mother. Grace spent so long wanting the son she knew was waiting in hiding within Christian, and since the two of us got together, he's become much more open with her. Then again, maybe she could knock some sense into her son's thick head to make him see what he's been doing to me. She knows he's far from perfect. I still haven't forgotten the confrontation between Christian, Grace, and Elena Lincoln on Christian's birthday a few years back. Grace had been devastated to find out someone she considered a dear friend had abused her son. Then she was just angry that Christian had kept that from her for so long.

The few times I talked to her about it, I knew she blamed herself for what happened to Christian. Maybe if she'd spent more time with him to try and get him on the right path he wouldn't have gone out seeking other forms of comfort. Of course it wasn't her fault. Christian had his problems and yes, he was only a kid when things between him and Elena began, but he had the choice to keep going back to her. Even after he turned eighteen, though, he chose to keep on the way he had been going. I never blamed Christian for what he went through, making my own choice to blame Elena for the most part, but I'm still convinced he could have made the decision to improve his own life.

This is not helping anything, Anastasia. You can't just keep blaming Christian for every little thing that goes wrong in your life. Oh good, my subconscious is back to her unhelpful, bitchy self.

Finally we arrive at the very familiar GEH jet, the one that I just saw take my son and Mia away from me a month ago. As I board, I smile my hello to Stephan, pleased to see a friendly face, and look around, remembering all the good times I've had aboard this plane. I quickly make a pact to myself to stay far away from the bedroom at the back of the jet as I know that will only depress me further. It's not long before the flight attendant is directing me to my seat for takeoff.

I step off the GEH jet gratefully. It's nice flying privately as opposed to commercial, but it tends to get lonely when you're by yourself, especially when you've flown from London to Seattle. As expected, there is a black SUV waiting for me, and I find myself surprised and slightly disappointed not to see Christian anywhere in sight. The moment I'm off the last step, however, the rear door opens and I'm being rushed by a squealing Kate. For the next few minutes, we partake in the usual reunion ritual of women—hugging, talking at a rapid pace in unison, and crying. It's so good to see her. She hasn't changed in the slightest and that comforts me.

Arm-in-arm, we return to the SUV and climb in. Automatically, I look at the driver's seat, feeling my stomach flip when I see Taylor looking at me in the rearview mirror, a small smile on his face.

"Hello, Jason," I say quietly, uncertain of the reception he might give me. I have, after all, left his boss, and I can imagine he's suffered the brunt of Christian's anger and frustrations over the last six months...

But Taylor's smile only widens and his eyes have a welcoming twinkle in them. "Hello, Mrs. Grey," he says respectively. "It's good to see you."

I relax almost instantly, knowing Kate is looking between us curiously. "You, too, Jason. How's Gail?"

"Very well, ma'am," Taylor tells her as he puts the car in drive and starts to leave the runway. "She's looking forward to seeing you."

The drive from Sea-Tac to Carrick and Grace's home in Bellevue is filled with conversation as Kate fills me in on what she's been up to, how quickly Ava is growing, and other little tidbits I've missed out on. I respond by telling her about my job in London, the new apartment, and the people I've met, carefully keeping Thomas out of the conversation for now. With things so uncertain between us, I don't want to bring him up to anyone in case it fizzles out; no use making things worse...

"So it's just the girls tonight," Kate informs me. "Christian, Elliot, Carrick, Ray, and Teddy all went out on the boat yesterday and they're not expected back until tomorrow for the party."

Again with the surprise and disappointment; I hadn't realized how eager I'd been to see Christian tonight until now, even if I wasn't quite ready to face the conversations that were sure to come before Teddy and I return to London. "And when you say the girls, you mean..."

"You, me, Grace, Mia, and your dear mother," Kate recited. "It'll be fun. Pizza, wine, ice cream, sappy movies that require each of us to carry our very own box of tissues... You know, a typical girls' night in."

"Sounds great," I tell her sincerely. At least this way I'll be able to ease myself back into things without the overwhelming presence of Christian Grey looming over my shoulder. There'll be plenty of that for the rest of this little visit...

When we arrive at the house, I'm a little surprised there's no welcoming committee, but Kate tells me the others will arrive in a couple hours and doesn't seem willing to go into details about where they are. In fact, Kate seems to have a very one-track mind as she drags me through the house past where Taylor dropped my luggage, through the kitchen where she pauses briefly to grab a couple glasses of wine before dragging me out onto the back patio.

"Sit," she says imperiously, pointing to a deck chair and handing me my wine glass. I suddenly realize my best friend has spent the entire ride here lulling me into a false security and had probably made it so she and I were the only ones here when we arrived. "Start talking, Steele."

Knew it... "Kate..."

"Don't even try deflecting," Kate says firmly. "It's been six months, you owe us some explanations. It's been hell trying to figure things out for ourselves and we need to know if Christian needs to be strung up by his balls."

I blink at her words and almost smile. I want to tell her, I want to get this off my chest, but for whatever reason I can't get the words out.

"Did he cheat on you?" Kate asks, her voice more gentle. I look at her with tears filling my eyes. She sucks in a sharp breath and I know she knows. "Was it that Elena bitch?"

"No," I say more sharply than I intend. I may have my problems with Christian right now, but I won't let people think he's been with the Bitch Troll again. If that got back to Grace, it would break her heart. "No, it wasn't her. It was somebody he met at the gym of all places."

Kate looked at me incredulously. "The gym?"

I nod.

"How long?"

I sigh. "According to him, five months before I found out, and it began about a month after our anniversary vacation," I tell her.

Setting aside her wine glass, Kate's expression is sympathetic. "How'd you find out?" she asked quietly.

I feel my eyes rolling. "Security video," I say tersely. "A half hour long video that I found on his computer which showed far more than I ever wanted to see."

"A Christian Grey sex tape?" Kate whispers, her eyes wide and horrified.

I manage to crack a very slight smile. "I suppose so. Anyway, I found out, we fought for a week then I left. And until now, I haven't looked back."

"That asshole," Kate mutters. "Well, that explains quite a bit, I suppose."

"What do you mean?" I feel dread filling me.

Kate shrugs. "Just the way he's been since you left. He's as miserable as you would think, but he's done a few strange things."

"Like..." I say leadingly.

"Like selling his apartment," Kate tells me promptly. My mouth drops open. "Yeah. About two months ago. He wouldn't tell anybody why he sold it so suddenly when he's been insisting for years it was a necessary piece of property. Sold pretty quickly, too. Very private. Elliot tried to get him drunk enough to tell us how much the place sold for, but no such luck..."

I am in absolute shock right now at my husband's behavior. Not that I really care about the state of Escala—it can burn down to the fucking ground for all I care—but he loved that place. At one point, so did I. And I can't help but wonder what he's done with the contents of the playroom—did he move it all to the big house or throw it out?

"He's also been more dedicated to working since you left. Top secret stuff, apparently; either that or he's just avoiding telling us anything," Kate goes on wryly. "The jackass seems to have reverted to his before Ana state, according to the family. And let me tell you, Steele, if this was how he was before the two of you met, it's a wonder someone hasn't killed him to put everyone out of their misery. He's constantly angry with everybody, picks fights, pouts like a little boy when he doesn't get his way... If I didn't know any better, I'd say he's reverted to his teenage years."

Granted, I don't know all the details of Christian's life during those years past what he's told me about his anger, need for fighting, drinking, and constant hard-on, not to mention Elena Lincoln, but I can imagine it hasn't been easy for his family. How many times has Grace thanked me over the years for "giving her the son she knew was lying dormant"? Now he's regressed back to that and for a moment, I feel guilty, until I realize that this is all his own doing. He's the one who caused this, the one who couldn't keep it in his pants. I feel bad for the rest of the family, but that's about the extent of it.

Kate changes the subject, much to my relief, and within the hour, I hear three familiar voices through the open kitchen door. The next several minutes are spent greeting my mother, Grace, and Mia, having them welcoming me home and telling me how wonderful it is to see me.

Our evening progresses just as Kate said it would. No one presses me for information about what happened between Christian and me, though I feel Grace's curious gaze lingering on me more than once. It's been far too long since I felt myself letting go with people who really know me. We're in the home theater room with some romantic-comedy playing in the background, but no one is paying attention. The wine has been flowing almost too steadily all evening and we've got pizza boxes, ice cream cartons, bowls of popcorn, and any number of other junk foods, and we're all laughing hysterically at something Mia said, though if threatened by gunpoint to tell somebody what it was, we'd all have bullets in our heads. It's past one in the morning when we finally manage to stumble upstairs to bedrooms. Kate and I collapse into one and we're both asleep in minutes.

The next morning over a greasy breakfast promised to soak up what remains of the alcohol, my mom and Grace are quietly debating the best hangover remedies while Mia stares at her plate looking as though the second she opens her mouth in an attempt to eat she'll be immediately sick. It's not until around lunchtime that any of us is starting to feel more like ourselves. We move our little party out onto the deck where Grace sets up the grill in preparation for the men's arrival, which will be within the hour apparently.

Before they get here, I excuse myself to take a shower, unwilling to face Christian looking like a walking hangover, even if that is exactly how I feel. So I carefully shower and shave, blow dry and style my hair, leaving it down to hang around my shoulders, then dress in a pair of shorts Christian once ordered me never to leave the house wearing and a t-shirt that fits loosely but still hugs my curves perfectly.

As I look into the mirror before rejoining everyone, I briefly wonder whether I'm doing this for myself as an excuse to look and feel nice or if I'm doing it for Christian's benefit. It's been nearly seven months since I've seen him after all and I've always had the need to make myself feel desirable in his eyes. Trying to convince myself this isn't what I'm doing, I head downstairs again, stopping at the door from the kitchen to the deck. Elliot, Carrick, and Ray are there, talking to the women and standing around the grill. I scan the area for any sign of Christian or Teddy, but I don't see any. I feel nervous again, anxious to see Christian again, and I actually start to panic a little until I hear a familiar set of footsteps that are trying to be quiet so the owner can surprise me. I hide my smile, keeping my eyes on the activity outside, acting surprise when I feel someone crash into my legs, wrapping their arms around my knees in a hug.

I turn around enough to look down and find Teddy looking up at me with his big blue eyes and a huge smile on his face. "Hi, baby," I say to him, pulling myself from his arms so I can reach down to take him into my own. "Oh, I've missed you."

"Missed you, too, Mommy," Teddy tells me, wrapping his arms around my neck. He pulls back to play with my hair. "Guess what? Daddy took me out on his boat!"

"Did he?" I ask, acting surprised. "Did you have fun?"

Teddy nods. "Uh huh," he tells me. "Grandpa Ray and Grandpa Carry helped me fish and Uncle Elliot fell into the water and Daddy had to save him."

"Really?" I'm trying not to laugh at the image he's portraying of Elliot floundering over the side of the boat and Christian being incredibly irritated because he's got to pull his brother back onto the boat. I'm willing to bet he spent a couple minutes debating with Carrick whether it was even worth rescuing him, then coming to the conclusion that Kate would kill them if they let her husband drown.

"Yeah, but he was only joking," Teddy says, grinning. "Daddy reached down to help him out of the water and Uncle Elliot grabbed him and pulled him into the water, too."

I giggle at this new image and drag my eyes away from my son for the first time, immediately finding my husband standing at the entrance of the kitchen. My amusement is gone as I adjust my hold on Teddy, running my greedy gaze over him. I hadn't believed it possible, but he's more gorgeous than I remember. He's wearing faded blue jeans and a black t-shirt. Clearly he's been working out often over the last several months—I try not to wonder whether he's been back to the gym—and he's more fit than he's ever been. His copper hair is in its usual just-fucked state, he's a little more tan, and his eyes are dark gray as they stare at me. My limbs feel wobbly and I reluctantly place Teddy on his feet before I drop him.

Almost as though it was planned from the onset, Teddy runs past me to join the party outside, leaving me alone with Christian. I'm speechless. I'm wide-eyed and terrified. And I don't think I'm the only one feeling this way. Christian hasn't moved a muscle; only his eyes are active as they travel down my body, taking in every possible detail, and when he finally meets my eyes again, his gaze has darkened. I know that look. Heat courses through my veins, traveling downwards until it pools between my thighs. And god dammit, he knows what he's doing; he knows he still has an effect on me, if that smirk on his face is any clue.

"Hello, Anastasia," he whispers huskily as he slowly closes some of the distance between us.

I remain rooted on the spot until he comes within about ten feet of me; I take a pointed step backwards, raising my eyebrows so he knows I'd rather he not come any closer. Hurt crosses his face, but he swallows heavily and the expression is gone. "Hello, Christian," I respond quietly.

He almost smiles. "You look wonderful," he says, his tone filled with what sounds like awe.

"Thank you," I respond. My mouth has suddenly gone dry and I can hear my heart beating as though it's located between my ears rather than in my chest.

He starts to say something else, but his gaze drifts over my shoulder and he scowls, snapping his mouth shut until it forms a tight line. I glance over my shoulder curiously and blush furiously when I find the majority of our family staring at us. Grace, Carrick, Carla, Ray, and Elliot all look away guiltily, but Kate and Mia are still watching us unabashedly. "Shall we?" Christian asks, gesturing stiffly at the open door.

I feel disappointed that whatever moment was forming between us has been broken and I know Christian is feeling the same. Over lunch, I catch up on six months worth of news, sharing my own about my new job and the new apartment that I only just finished moving my and Teddy's belongings into. Christian, when he's not glaring daggers at Kate and Mia, is hanging on my every word, like he's a starving man desperate for the feast he knows is coming. A few times I catch him smiling, a real Christian Grey, shy, loving, I'd-do-anything-for-you smile, and I almost forget the problems hanging between us.

For a few hours, it feels like everything is normal. At one point, Christian and I are even chatting. It's stilted, overly polite chat, but we're both enjoying this time. Not until early evening when Kate and Elliot decide it's time to take Ava home are we jolted back into the reality of our situation.

"You going to be okay?" Kate asks quietly, pulling me aside before she leaves.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I lie. Truth is, I have no idea whether I'll be fine; I know what's coming: Christian is waiting in the wings for Kate to leave so he can ask me whether I'm staying with his parents for the duration of my visit or coming back to the big house with him and Teddy. I still haven't quite made my mind up, though I do know my mom and Ray are both staying here with Grace and Carrick, and I know that if I stay as well, I'll be ambushed by all of them at some point and I can't face them right now.

Kate gives me a tight, sympathetic smile, then a big hug before making me promise that we have lunch before Teddy and I leave Sunday night. A minute later, Christian and I are alone in the foyer, even though he's still hiding around the corner. I sigh and turn around, and apparently that's his sign to make his presence known. And what a presence it is. He leans against the wall, his hands in his pockets as he gazes at me like a scared little boy. My poor Fifty...

There's nothing poor about him, my subconscious hisses at me. Not in any sense of the word...

"So it's about Teddy's bedtime," he ventured cautiously. "We'll have to take off soon."

I know right then he's not going to force me to go back to the house with him and Teddy, even if I have already made up my mind. "Well, if you'll wait a few minutes, I can grab my suitcase and I'll ride along with you."

The look on his face is absolutely priceless; he clearly believed I'd be staying here with his parents. It takes a minute or two for him to recover. "I'll grab it for you," he volunteers quickly. "Guest room?"

I nod, and after a brief smile at me, he turns and rushes up the stairs. I head back into the family room where Teddy is playing some game on the floor with his grandfathers, and my mom and Grace are talking quietly, probably about me and Christian judging by the way they stopped speaking instantly the moment they saw me standing there.

"Ready to say good night, baby boy?" I ask my son brightly.

"Okay," Teddy replies, climbing to his feet even though he's still directing Ray on how to play their board game. I'm pretty sure he's thrown away all the rules and has made up his own. My boy is nothing if not imaginative. After a flurry of goodbyes, and a promise from Ray that if I need someone to intervene with Christian, he's only a phone call away, Teddy and I make our way back to the foyer where Christian is waiting for us, my suitcase at his feet. He's tapping away on his BlackBerry, but immediately stows is back in his pocket when he sees us approaching as though he wants me to know I have his full attention.

"Ready?" he asks, looking directly at me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was nervous.

Well, he's got reason to be, doesn't he?

I can only nod in response and follow my husband out the front door, holding onto my son's hand for dear life.