The next morning with Christian gone, I was able to start getting myself back into the swing of life in Seattle. Teddy and I had pancakes and bacon, and then he went off to play while I took care of the breakfast dishes as well as the ones from dinner last night. With that done, I once again found myself wandering my home until I was in front of the master bedroom door. It was closed and just the thought of opening it seemed wrong. Of course this was ridiculous; this was my bedroom, the one I used to share with my husband. I have some very wonderful memories behind this door, memories I share with my husband and son. Christian told me he hasn't slept here since I left, that he's moved into one of the guest bedrooms down the hall. I still don't know the reasoning behind this, but I'm oddly satisfied with that knowledge; the last thing I wanted to think about was him curled up in our bed, stretched out across the mattress and comfortable while I was sleeping alone in my own cold bed in London.

With inexplicably shaking hands, I reach out to push down the handle and open the bedroom door. The first thing I see is the giant bed directly across from the double doors. It's expertly made up—by Gail, of course—and almost looks as though it belongs in a museum or something without even a wrinkle in the duvet. To my right is the giant bay window that gives a view of our backyard. I couldn't tell you how many nights Christian and I curled up together, just staring out that window. It always calmed me in a way not much could, especially when he was away on business trips. I'd lay on his side of the bed, wearing one of his t-shirts, staring out that window, and think about how lucky I had been to find my husband.

I roll my eyes at the thought. I was so naïve...

Taking tentative steps through the door, I realize immediately Christian hadn't been lying about not sleeping here. The room was cold and ignored, nothing like it had been before I left seven months ago. The only thing that proved somebody hadn't forgotten the room even existed is the bouquet of flowers arranged in a vase on my side of the bed. They're a variety of wild flowers and roses that Christian bought me the day we moved in. I've never seen them wilt or drop even a single petal; in fact, I actually felt them a couple years ago to see whether they were real. I never mentioned them to Christian, but I know every time they start to get old, he replaces them. I wonder if he's been replacing them the entire time I was gone. Right beside the vase on my nightstand are my wedding and engagement rings. They're exactly where I left them and I wonder if Christian ever touched them. I touch them myself cautiously as though they might disintegrate with even the slightest touch. I look down at my bare left ring finger. The tan lines where my rings once sat have disappeared almost completely. Pulling back my hand, I wonder if I'll ever put them on again; I don't know what it is I'm waiting for, but I know I'm not ready to wear them yet.

Sighing, I turn away from the nightstand to check out the rest of the room. Inside my walk-in closet, everything is as I remember. When I packed to leave, I didn't know where it was I would go, but I knew I'd have no use for all the dresses and fancy clothes I'd bought over the years. My fingers run across the fabrics and I smile at the memories some of the clothes I'd worn to some sort of charity or business function. Back in the bedroom, I find myself at my dresser, which used to carry my day-to-day clothing until I cleaned it out when I left. Almost reverently, I open the simple wooden jewelry box in which my charm bracelet sits in the exact pile I'd left it. Aside from my rings, this was the thing that hurt most to remove from my body. I hadn't taken it off since the day Christian gave it to me on my birthday years ago. Every year since that day, he's given me a new one: there's a little teddy bear for my first birthday as a mother; a little book that symbolized my work at Grey Publishing; a car steering wheel that went along with the brand-new car he gave me a couple years back; and a little tie I'm sure he had specially made. It resembles its full-size twin, the one of Christian's that makes me weak in the knees just seeing, right down to the patterns. The look on Christian's face when I recognized it told him he had known exactly how I would react and he was pleased to know he was right. He then pulled the real tie from his pocket, dangling it in front of my face, until I tackled him to the bed.

I realize with a jolt my birthday is coming up again in a few weeks and I wonder whether he'll carry on the tradition. Do I even want him to? Had his affair with Lucy already begun this time last year? I don't want to know. I really don't. I think I've come to the conclusion that if I keep thinking about the affair, Christian and I will never get anywhere. We'll keep sinking deeper into the black hole in which we're currently residing. I have to find a way to get past this.

I roll my eyes again as I realize it's going to take a whole hell of a lot more to get me to forget that fucking video.

Around lunchtime, I receive a call from Grace welcoming me home and asking if I might be interested in having dinner with her sometime later in the week, just the two of us. Before I can really process the reasoning for this, I'm saying yes and we arrange a time and a place to meet. I think I know exactly what we'll be talking about over dinner—I haven't spoken to my mother-in-law since the end of summer party I flew in from London to attend, which means this will be the first time I've seen and spoken to her since she found out the truth about why I left Christian. He called his family after Teddy's kidnapping so they heard it from him rather than the media and I know he told them exactly who Lucy was in connection to us. What I don't know is their responses to the revelation that he had an affair, though when he'd come in from the patio after calling them he was ashen-faced and tense-jawed.

I wonder whether they know about his continued relationship with Elena Lincoln. Part of me wants to tell Grace about it, knowing she'd be able to help me knock some sense into him. The other part knows telling her Christian was still seeing her after the birthday party fiasco when Grace found out that Elena and Christian had an affair when he was fifteen will only break her heart even more. Grace has become the mother I never had. Ever since I met her, she's been nothing but sweet and supportive, and I don't know if I can put her through that pain. It's enough that she knows he had an affair so recently; what would be the point in bringing Elena into the picture as well?

For once Teddy doesn't fight me on taking his afternoon nap; I think he's still on London time and exhausted, so the moment his little head hits the pillow, he's out cold. I sit beside him for a few minutes, just watching him, and think I never would have gotten through the last seven months if I didn't have him to keep me going. Throughout everything I knew I couldn't just lie down and give up, because I had my son to care for and I needed to be strong for him, no matter how much I wanted to.

"I love you, baby boy," I whisper, bending down to softly kiss his forehead before sliding off the bed and leaving the room.

Almost the moment I arrive downstairs, the house phone rings. I pick it up in the kitchen and start making myself a sandwich. "Hello?"

"Ana." I smile a little at the sound of Christian's voice, though I'm well aware of the relief in his tone. "You're home."

I raise an eyebrow even though he can't actually see me do it. "Where else would I be?" I respond.

He doesn't answer right away, but I think I understand what's going on in his mind: he was afraid the moment he left for work, I'd pack up and leave again. "How's your day going?" he asks softly.

"All right," I tell him. "I just got Teddy settled for his nap and I'm making myself some lunch. Oh, and your mother called; she wants to have dinner with me on Thursday night."

"Did she?" Surprise fills his voice.

"She did," I confirm.

I hear him sigh as he puts the pieces of the puzzle together. "Well, I'm sure you'll have a good time."

I'm not nearly as convinced given what I think we'll be talking about, but I keep that thought to myself. "I thought you had meetings all day?" I ask instead.

"I do; I'm currently in between meetings and I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay," he says. "I should go. Hopefully I'll be able to get out of here at a reasonable time this evening." He pauses for a moment. "Ana, I don't know if you've thought about it or not, but I think we should make an appointment to see Dr. Flynn. I need to see him regardless, but I'd like you to join me. If you want, of course."

My eyebrows rise in surprise. Of all the times we've gone to see Flynn throughout our marriage, Christian has always made the appointments without my input. It was a mandatory thing. "I think that's a great idea," I tell him quietly. "Have you already made the appointment?"

"No," he responds, sounding relieved again. "I wanted to check with you first. I thought about making it for Thursday, but since you're having dinner with Grace, I'll have to check my schedule again. Do you have any preferences on which day?"

"I don't. Whatever works for you."

"Okay," he says with a sigh. I hear voices in the background. "Baby, I'm sorry, I have to get going. My next appointment is here. I'll see you this evening in time for dinner."

I smile to myself. "I look forward to it," I tell him genuinely. "Have a good afternoon."

"You, too, baby," he says softly. "I love you, Ana." Before I can respond, the line goes dead, which means he didn't expect me to return the words.

With Teddy still asleep a few hours later, I find myself bored. For some reason, I end up outside Christian's study, remembering the last confrontation we had in here: the night I saw the video of him and Lucy. Against my better judgment, I'm entering the room and crossing to Christian's huge executive desk. Nothing about this room has changed a bit. He's still got the photos he took of the two of us on our honeymoon curled up together, one taken just after I gave birth to Teddy. I look horrible in this picture, still drugged from the C-section, but I somehow managed a smile as I looked down at my baby boy. Christian maintains I'd never been more beautiful than at that moment; I always thought he was just way too biased.

One thing catches my eye: a stack of paperwork, on top of which is a copy of a restraining order against Elena Lincoln. She's not to come with a thousand feet of me, Teddy, or Christian; if she does, she will be immediately arrested and jailed. Reading this, I almost want to be in her presence again just so I can watch her getting arrested. Below the restraining order is a copy of the separation agreement I filed for and gave Christian last time I was in Seattle. The pages look as though they've been handled several dozen times. In light of everything, I'm not sure there's any real point in filing the paperwork to make them official; I've agreed to try and work things out with Christian and it would seem counterproductive to file it now. For now it's enough that he knows I'm serious about ending our marriage if it comes to that.

I jump guiltily when my cell phone vibrates in my pocket. I'm not entirely sure why I'm feeling guilty about being in Christian's study, but I almost feel as though I'm trespassing. Sighing to myself, I pull out my phone and read the text message he sent me.

*Flynn's only got one open appointment this week, which is tonight at seven. Do you want that one or should I make an appt for next week?*

Again with the checking with me before doing something... I think I'm starting to like this new Christian. Though I'm still tired from the time difference and not quite in the mood to jump right back into the fire of events that have occurred over the last year, I respond to Christian's text:

*Tonight is fine. What time is the opening so I can make arrangements for a babysitter for Teddy?*

He responds immediately. *Six o'clock. I think my parents have something going on tonight, but you could call Mia or Kate; I'm sure they'll be able to watch him for a couple hours.*

I sigh. Neither of them knows I'm back in Seattle and I have a feeling Kate will be annoyed that I didn't tell her I was coming back. Oh well. She'll get over it...

I send her a quick text, telling her I'm back and asking if she and Elliot would mind keeping Teddy for the evening. Rather than replying via text, she calls back within five minutes. She wants to know what's going on with Lucy and why I suddenly decided to return home and whether Christian pressured me into the decision. I assure her my return was completely my choice and she seems satisfied for the moment. She says she's got no problem watching Teddy tonight and I tell her Christian and I will drop him off on our way to Flynn's office. I know she wants more details on what's going on, but I'm not ready to get into it just yet. The moment she hears exactly what's been going on she's probably going to want to beat the shit out of Christian, so I need to make sure when I do tell her, we're a safe distance from my husband and that she won't be seeing him for a couple days.

After that phone call, I hear Teddy moving around upstairs. He and I spend the rest of our afternoon playing outside, and I love how happy he is having a place to run around again. I'd thought I had made the right decision taking him from his home after what Christian did, but I realize now just how miserable he's been since we've been away and I know I'll never put him through something like this again. He needs his family as much as I do.

Around four o'clock, I start making dinner for Teddy, since I'm not sure when Christian will be home and I want to make sure he's fed before dropping him off with Kate and Elliot. We settle on premade macaroni and cheese Gail prepared and put in the freezer. As we sit down at the kitchen bar to eat, the front door opens and closes, and I hear Christian's footsteps coming our way. Teddy jumps off his stool to rush his father for a hug. Christian picks him up and gives him what he wants, all the while watching me with a small smile. I get the feeling again that he's surprised to find me here still.

"Hi," he says quietly, setting Teddy back on his stool to finish his dinner.

He lingers beside me for a few moments as though he's trying to decide whether it's okay to kiss me like he always did when he came home from work or not. "Hi," I respond, giving him a smile of my own. "Hungry? We made mac and cheese."

"I see that," he tells me approvingly, turning towards the stove to get himself a dish of food before coming back to sit beside me. "How was the rest of your day?"

I gave him a quick rundown with Teddy's help on the games we played. Of course, Teddy monopolizes the conversation, happily exaggerating the details. Between bites, I glance at Christian, finding him looking more relaxed than I've seen him in too long. Sensing my gaze, he tears his eyes from our son to look at me, his brow furrowed in thought.

After dinner, Christian goes upstairs to change out of his suit and into jeans and a polo shirt. Along with his just-fucked hair and leather jacket, I feel myself being reduced to teenage girl drooling all over a boy. He sees my expression and smirks to himself, but doesn't comment as we start to head out for Kate's. Surprisingly we don't spend too much time with Kate and Elliot. I think they're both biding their time until I get the chance to tell them my side of the story, though Elliot is being oddly cold with his brother while treating me exactly the way he always has. Christian notices, but doesn't push the subject, and we're on our way to Flynn's.

He's quiet. Every time I look at him, his entire body is tense and I know it's his nerves getting to him, just as they did the first time we went to see Flynn together. I don't think there's any new information that I'm going to find out—at least I hope not—though I do know it's going to be an awkward evening. Knowing Flynn, we'll be delving straight into the affair, then talk about Elena. I want to try and reassure Christian that I'm not running again, that I've accepted the worst of it even if I haven't quite forgiven him yet, but I can't find the strength to do it.

We pull into a parking spot, Christian shuts off the ignition, and we sit in silence for a few minutes before he takes a deep breath and turns towards me. "I don't know whether it's worth anything," he begins slowly, "but whatever happens this evening, please remember that I love you and I will never put you through this pain again. I can't lose you again, Ana, and I spent my entire day terrified that when I got home you'd be gone and that would be the end of me."

"Christian," I sigh, resting my head against the window. "I know this isn't easy for either of us, but I've told you I want to work on our relationship. Unless you do something as fucking stupid as what you've already done, I'm not going anywhere. I will say this, though: even if our marriage can be saved, I will never forget what you did and it's going to take a hell of a lot for me to trust you again."

He nods, swallowing hard. "I know."

Without thinking, I reach over for his hand, bringing his knuckles to my lips. "Despite everything, I love you, too. That's never changed. We need communication and honesty from now on no matter how much we think it might hurt the other. It's the only way I'm going to get past this."

With another nod, Christian reluctantly pulls his hand from my grasp so we can get out of the car. The second we meet up to walk into the building, he takes my hand in his and holds it as though if he loosens his grip too much, I'll disappear. Before I know it, we're entering Flynn's office and I find myself smiling at the good doctor. He seems surprised to see me which makes me wonder whether Christian told him I was even back in the States, let alone joining in on the evening's session.

Christian and I sit on the couch with about a cushion's worth of space between us. He rests his hand near me in case I want to take it; I find myself unable to do so.

Flynn sits in the chair across from us, crossing one leg over the other and resting his notepad on his knee. "Welcome back, Ana," he says kindly. "How did you find my home country?"

I smile. "Most of it was enjoyable," I tell him honestly. "The rest, not so much."

He smiles understandingly, looking between Christian and me. "I heard about the trouble with Teddy. I trust he's doing well?"

Christian nods. "He is, thank god. No permanent damage to anybody but us." He gestures between the two of us.

"And Lucy's involvement?" Flynn prompts. I close my eyes, inwardly shaking my head. Of course Christian told Flynn about the affair. But was Flynn privy to the information before or after I found out?

"She was the one who took him," Christian says quietly, avoiding my gaze altogether. "She's currently sitting in a London jail awaiting trial."

Flynn nods. "Well, it might be some comfort to know she will very likely receive the maximum punishment for kidnap. We Brits don't take that sort of thing lightly."

Surprisingly, that is actually a small comfort.

"Before we left yesterday, Ana and I went to the jail to speak with Lucy," Christian says quietly.

Eyes widening in shock, Flynn sat forward a little. "And how did that go?" The question is directed at me.

"Could have been worse," I tell him. "I'm glad I had the chance to confront her finally, but I could have done without much of the conversation between her and Christian." Christian flinches as though I've hit him. "I still don't know how much of it was true and how much was fabricated."

"Most of it was true," Christian murmurs suddenly.

"Does that include what she said about you being in love with her?" I ask. If this is how he wants to get into it, I'm game.

"I never told her I loved her," Christian says cautiously.

Flynn clears his throat. "It's not necessarily all words to show someone you love them, Christian," he interjects. "Actions speak louder, after all."

Sighing, Christian nods.

"I'm only asking one more time," I go on, "so please make it count: Did you love her?"

His eyes close and his shoulders slump in defeat. "At one point, I believed I might have," he says. "I don't know what it was I was looking for, but I seemed to find it in her. I hated myself for it, but it got to the point that I couldn't go two days without seeing her. When I had to, you and I tended to fight more because I was on edge, waiting for the next time I'd see her. I couldn't stop it and at the time I didn't want to. I thought you were leaving me, Ana, and I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have fought for me!" I exclaim loudly. "I would have done anything to get our marriage back on track. Instead we both bottled everything up until we argued and the situation got worse and worse."

"You mean like you fought for me?" he shots back, suddenly losing his patience. "Ana, you're the one who packed their things to leave. I never had any indication before I even started the affair that you were thinking of leaving."

Before I can retort with something equally as hurtful, Flynn intervenes. "We're not here to place blame," he tells us firmly. "Ana, tell me what it was that made you want to leave. Before the affair, I mean."

I sigh, slouching against the couch. "I didn't know if I could continue my marriage with the way things were going. Christian and I were just drifting farther apart and our resentment towards each other was driving the wedge between us. I was sick of being treated like a child by my husband with him telling me I needed to cut back on my hours at work or that I wasn't spending enough time with our son or I wasn't giving him whatever it was he needed."

"And why did you never mention your concerns to Christian?"

I bristle at the question; if I didn't know any better, I'd say the tone Flynn was using suggested he was siding with my husband on this. I know this is supposed to be a conversation starter, something to make us open up to one another. "Because I was afraid he'd treat my concerns the same way he treated everything else in his life: like it didn't matter to him that I was miserable as long as his supposedly perfect life kept on going exactly as he wanted it to."

The bitterness in my voice surprises me, though not as much as it does Christian apparently. "When did I ever make you feel like that?" he begs quietly. "Ana, if I'd known how unhappy you were, I'd have done everything to fix it."

"I told you what I wanted," I tell him sadly. "I wanted a second child. When you kept shooting me down for that, I decided I'd need to find something else to occupy my time, so I went back to work. As soon as I started getting comfortable being CEO of my own company, something you wanted me to be, you started trying to guilt me into staying home more often because I wasn't spending enough time with Teddy. If I stayed home day in, day out, you complained that I was moping around and I should get out more often. Christian, I couldn't win with you! Nothing I did was good enough! After a while, I just gave up. I felt like all you wanted was a trophy wife to parade around fundraisers or whatever. I tried to give you that, thinking that might fix things between us. It didn't."

Christian's expression is nothing short of stricken. I'm not done, though. "I told you already we're both to blame for the state of our marriage," I go on, trying to regain my composure. "Maybe I should have made more of an effort to talk to you. I didn't want to lose you, but I didn't feel as though we were anything but roommates who occasionally had sex."

Silence fills the room as I see Christian's eyes begin to water. Flynn breaks the quiet. "Ana, why did you decide to come home?"

I sigh. "Other than the fact that my husband's ex-mistress kidnapped my son, then his other ex was trying to buy into the company I just started to work for, you mean?" Flynn raises a questioning eyebrow. "Elena Lincoln used three million dollars Christian gave her for one of her businesses to invest in a London publishing house I was working for. When I was informed of this, I quit pretty much on the spot and decided I just needed out of the England."

"Three million dollars?" Flynn asks, looking at Christian. "I wasn't aware you were still in contact with Ms. Lincoln."

Christian shifts uncomfortably. "Nobody was," he mutters. "She came to me a while back telling me she was trying to get a new salon chain going, but she needed a bit of start-up capital, so for old time's sake, I gave it to her. From what I understand, the new salon was a fake. I still don't know why she needed the money, but she's been holding onto it for months until very recently. I should have known better, but for whatever reason, I couldn't stop myself meeting with her, confiding in her. My only defense, which is a weak one, is that before Ana, Elena was the only person who really knew me and I guess I just wasn't ready to give up on that."

I bite my tongue against the words struggling to get out—the ones that will remind him of the nature of his relationship with Elena. He knows my opinion about her; I'm sick of repeating myself. "You need to make a choice, Christian," I say tiredly. "Either choose Elena and whoever else comes into your life or choose me. I'm sick of being the only person in the world who doesn't know what you're thinking or how you're feeling. I'm sick of finding out you've lied to me again about seeing somebody you know I hate with every fiber of my being."

"I choose you," he said without hesitation. "From here on out, it's only you, Anastasia. I'll tell you anything you want to hear about."

"Ana, do you believe Christian when he says these things to you?"

I shake my head despondently. "No. I've heard it all before. When we first got together, he told me I'm the only one he's ever really let into his life. Five years later, I'm not the only one anymore. What does he need me for if it's so easy to find somebody else who's willing to give him the exact same thing unconditionally?"

"I need you," he says quietly, his voice wavering, "because you saved me. You brought light into my life, showed me I could have more from life. If you hadn't come along, who the fuck knows where I'd be."

"You told me Elena saved you," I remind him painfully.

"In a way she did," he answers easily. "The path I was on when Elena and I started up would have landed me in prison or in the ground. Admittedly, the circumstances weren't exactly conventional, but she did bring me out of the abyss."

I swallow the bile rising in my throat. "All she did was pull you out of one abyss so she could throw you into a different one," I tell him.

"True," he concedes. "But the second you came along, you pulled me back to the surface where I belonged. You turned me into a better man. You made me a husband and a father. Everything I did, I did for my family. And all I did was take those wonderful gifts you've given me and thrown them back into your face like they didn't mean a thing to me. I've been selfish all my life and that hasn't changed, but I want it to. I need your help, Ana. I can't get through this alone. I don't want to."

I don't even notice I'm crying until Flynn passes me a box of tissues. "Why does it take me leaving you to come up with these things?" I want to know. "All the time when we still lived together you had no problem looking straight through me."

"You did the same to me," he whispers. His tone isn't accusatory; simply stating a fact. And I know he's right. Neither of us speak for minutes; we only stare at each other, trying to read the other's mind.

I don't know what else to say to him. I truly don't. And judging by the look on his face, he's waiting for me to say something more.

Eventually Flynn clears his throat, effectively breaking apart the silence. "We're nearing the end of our session," he informs us quietly. "Christian, would you mind stepping out for a moment while I have a quick word with Ana?"

Looking as though he wants nothing more than to argue, just as he looked on our first visit to Flynn, Christian manages a nod as he stands, his eyes darting nervously at me. I try to send him a reassuring smile as he leaves the room, but I don't think I've managed it.

"I realize Christian can be a difficult person to live with," Flynn begins the moment the door is closed behind my husband, "but I truly believe he's finally got his priorities in order. He's made some very impressive progress with a colleague of mine—I don't know whether he's mentioned seeing another therapist..." I nod to confirm Christian had mentioned it. "Obviously I can't go into detail about that progress, but I do want you to know he loves you very much."

"I know he does," I say weakly, staring at my fingers. "Christian loving me was never in question." I roll my eyes. "Or it wasn't until I found out about Lucy. I know he loves me and he wants us together again. I just don't know if I can."

Flynn nods as though he expected this answer from me. "I told you once to give Christian the benefit of the doubt. You did that. You took a chance on him and for a while things were picture perfect for the two of you—at least that's what it seemed like. I watched from afar whenever I was invited to charity functions as the two of you started pulling away from each other. As a friend, it was upsetting to witness, especially after seeing what Christian was like when he first met you, but I couldn't get involved. When you left Christian, I watched him slowly revert to the man he was before he met you. Cold. Angry. Lost. I could go on. Just having you in his presence has changed him again."

"So we're back to as long as Christian's happy, that's all that matters," I hear myself say bitterly.

Flynn's eyes widen at my outburst. "Ana, no. I would never say that. Your happiness is just as important. All I'm trying to say is that I hope you've come back to Seattle for the right reasons, not because it's what Christian wants. Christian told me one of the reasons you left and went to London was so you could regain independence. Don't let that go. You need your own identity. I think Christian is finally beginning to understand that. Only time will tell us for sure, though."

I nod. "How am I supposed to trust him?" I ask bleakly. "He's at work all day long, while I'm at the house wondering if he's actually at work. And I know at some point he's going to leave for some business trip and I will be a nervous wreck the entire time he's gone. Or when he undoubtedly gets so caught up in whatever deal he's working on that he's too preoccupied to pay his family proper attention... My mind will shoot right back to the affair."

"It's natural," Flynn assures me gently. "Christian has to earn your trust again. You trusted him so completely in the beginning of your relationship that he's taken it for granted. He knows this. I can't tell you what decision to make, Ana. I can't tell you how whatever decision you make will turn out. But I can tell you Christian will do whatever it takes to make you happy again. If that means living life without you, he's prepared to do that."

I blink as the words register in my mind. Christian's been fighting so hard to get us back together that I hadn't even considered his willingness to accept that we might not. I probably should have; he signed the separation agreement. That was before the kidnapping, though, and Elena. When I look up again, Christian has reentered the room and he's talking quietly with Flynn about something—they've moved across the room, probably to give me time to process things. Christian's eyes find me and I immediately recognize the sadness and fear in his expression.

We say goodbye to Flynn and walk silently to the elevator where we stand on opposite sides. Christian's hands are stuffed in his pockets, his head is bowed pensively, and I suddenly make a decision. I wait until we reach the car. He opens my door for me as always then walks around to get in himself.

I take a deep breath, drawing his attention. "Do you still want to take me on a date?" I ask, feeling shy all of a sudden.

His head snaps up to look at me so quickly I'm surprised he didn't get whiplash. "What?" he breathes.

I smile. "In London," I remind him. "You told me you wanted to take me out and I never answered. Is it too late to accept?"

Hope fills his eyes at my words and slowly his boyish smile spreads across his face. "No, of course not," he says softly, looking at me as though he can't believe what I'm asking. "Are you accepting?"

I pretend to think about it for a minute, trying to hide my twitching lips. "I think so," I finally answer when his face begins to fall.

He lets out a short laugh, relaxing into his seat, and he looks younger than he has in months. "Dammit, Ana," he says, shaking his head at me. "You scared the hell out of me. Here I was thinking that session just set us back even farther than before."

I sigh. "No," I tell him. "Christian, that wasn't anything we haven't discussed before. If anything, we were just being more honest. I don't want us to lose that. We need communication. We're both guilty of keeping things to ourselves when we think it's better that way. We can't think like that anymore. I want this to work. I want to prove to everybody that we belong together. But I can't do that on my own. I need your help, Christian."

"You've got it," he promises me, reaching over to take my hand in his. "We'll make this work, Ana. Somehow, we will make it work."

For the first time in a long time, I think I actually believe what he's saying.

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. More coming soon!