"Mr. Grey, your nine o'clock is here."
I pause in my typing and stare at my phone from which Olivia's disembodied voice has just spoken. Even though I knew this moment was coming all morning, even though I'm the one who set up this meeting, I'm dreading the next several minutes. Reminding myself I'm not doing this for myself, that I'm doing it for Anastasia, I brace myself. "Send her in." Seconds before my office door opens, I stand up, smoothing down non-existent wrinkles in my suit to give myself the semblance of having the upper hand. With a disgruntled expression on her face, Kate enters my office, her eyes roving over every inch of it as though she hasn't been here dozens of times over the last few years. Her gaze finds mine and as I expected, she immediately scowls at me. "Good morning, Katherine," I say, determined to be civil. "Thank you for coming on such short notice."
Kate raises an eyebrow at me. "I wasn't aware I had a choice," she says coolly. "The next time you want to speak to me, maybe you should just do it rather than sending your hired goons to kidnap me."
I raise an eyebrow in return. "First of all, they will resent being referred to as goons," I tell, copying her tone. "And second, nobody kidnapped you. You were more than free to decline my invitation."
"And yet, they wouldn't leave until I agreed to meet with you," she says, stopping short of my desk and crossing her arms. I discreetly roll my eyes. "What do you want, Grey? I've got a busy day."
"Then I won't keep you long," I say briskly, gesturing for her to take a seat at my couch. "Can I get you a drink?" The look on her face is enough to tell me to end with the pleasantries and just get to the point. "I asked you here to discuss Ana."
Despite her open animosity towards me, I see the minute slump in her shoulders at the mention of my wife—her supposed best friend. "What about her?" Kate asks quietly, looking down at her knee briefly.
"She's been upset since Sunday and it's because of what happened between the two of us," I tell her. "Considering how well she and I have been doing over the last couple weeks, and the rarity of seeing her upset in that time, we need to fix this. You can hate me all you want, Kate, but don't bring Anastasia into it. She deserves better than the two of us at each other's throats all the time and her having to break it up. It's unfair to her and I won't stand for it."
Disbelief fills Kate's expression. "You won't stand for your wife's unfair treatment? What about how unfair it was to her that you fucked some little slut for months on end? You sure as shit weren't jumping to her defense then."
I close my eyes in an attempt to keep my temper in check. There was no way she would have gone this entire meeting without bringing up my affair; doesn't mean it's easier to handle. "You're right, I wasn't," I agree. "And of the two of us, I'm the one who deserves the brunt of her ire, but that doesn't give you the right to insult her the way you did the other night."
"How the fuck did I insult her?" Kate asks, her voice rising.
"By suggesting the reason she's come home to me is because I've bribed her," I answer immediately. "By suggesting she's so weak that she needs reassurance from me in the form of material possessions. By going against her word in regards to how you treat me. I know she asked you to keep out of our marriage and to, at the very least, support her decision to come home to me. Kate, do you have any idea that toll it takes on Ana when you and I fight? You're supposed to be her friend, but every time she has to watch and listen to us argue, she's being torn from one side to the other and feels it necessary to choose between us. You can believe what you want about me, about my marriage, and what you clearly consider the inevitable return of my infidelity, but don't you fucking dare put Ana in a position like that again. For some unknown, wonderful reason, she's decided to give me a second chance—and it is her decision. The details of our reconciliation are, honestly, none of your fucking business. If Ana decides to tell you, fine, but I don't owe you a goddamn thing, Kate. The only person in this world I owe is my wife.
"And while I know this is probably the very last thing you want to discuss, especially with me, I feel I need to remind you that neither Ana nor I got involved when it was you and Elliot going through a similar situation. Each of us was there to support the two of you, but I never gave Elliot advice on what to do in his marriage, just as I know Ana never would have tried giving you advice. I'm sorry you went through what you did with Elliot, I truly am, and I remember how messed up you were, which gave me a little insight into how Ana has been feeling. But I don't understand why it's okay for you to forgive Elliot, and wrong for Ana to forgive me."
"You want to know why?" she asks, her tone deceivingly calm. I expected her to speak long before now. "It's because from day one, you were making her cry. Not only that, but you brought her into your life under false pretenses. And I don't care that you supposedly changed your lifestyle in order to keep her. I've been waiting for years for you to break her heart, Grey, and now that you have, I don't want to sit back and watch it over and over again. As for you bringing my and Elliot's marriage into the mix... Like you said, it's none of your fucking business what happens between us, but Elliot and I worked through our troubles. Elliot never wanted to tie me up and beat the shit out of me. He never controlled every little aspect of my life to the point I wasn't allowed to go out and have drinks with my friends without him flying across the country while he was on a business trip just to yell at me. He never made me feel so insignificant that I believed my only option was to leave the country with my child. When things between you and Ana are good, they're really good; when they're bad, they're a fucking nightmare. You're destroying her, Christian, and you don't even see it. How long will it be before you do this again? How long will it be before you really hurt her?"
Now I'm pissed. I know exactly what she's insinuating and I want nothing more than to scream and rage at her, but I know that behavior will do nothing to get Kate on side. Not that I want her on my side at this point. "Firstly, I would never physically harm Anastasia. I'm not a wife batterer, Kate, and I really don't appreciate you insinuating otherwise. Ana would never stand for that; she'd leave me without a second thought." I don't mention that Ana has demonstrated this exact behavior in the past. "I know what I've done has hurt her deeply and that it will take a long time before we reach a point where she trusts me completely again. As for me destroying her... I'm not entirely certain we're talking about the same woman. Ana has never been stronger than she is right now. The time she spent in London, she did it on her own without the help of any of us, you included. So don't try to presume you know her; she's changed drastically. She doesn't need your protection. Hell, she probably doesn't need mine, but I'll be damned if she doesn't get it regardless. And if I need to, I will protect her from you. At this point, I'm not the one bringing her to tears. I'm not the one suggesting she's too naïve to know what the right decision is to make. That's all you, Kate. And it needs to stop. She needs a friend right now to help get her through the trial in London; she doesn't need someone questioning her judgment every time she breathes. If you value her friendship at all—and you would be a fool not to—you'll make the right decision. And don't you dare think you can just pretend to be supportive of her; she'll see right through it. If you go back into this, it needs to be because it's what you want. Don't fuck this up, Kate. We've all been through way too much for that."
Nearly two weeks has gone by since I've seen or spoken to Kate. As much as I miss her, I'm glad she hasn't tried contacting me; I don't know that I'd have anything nice to say to her. It didn't take long before the rest of the family noticed there was a strain between Kate, and Christian and me. Over the weekend, Grace and Carrick invited everybody over for dinner during which Kate, Elliot, and Ava were conspicuous only in their absence. Neither Grace nor Carrick seemed to know why their oldest son and his family had declined their invitation, but I suspect they were aware Christian was somehow involved. I felt guilty that I was partially to blame for Kate wanting to distance herself from the family, but at the same time, it was probably for the best; at least until tempers cool down somewhat.
Still, I haven't been able to hide my sadness of seemingly losing a friendship that has meant so much to me. I know he won't bring it up to me for fear of upsetting me further and I'm not eager to bring it up to him. Besides, I've got other things to occupy my mind and time. I started working at Golden Gate Publishing on Monday. For whatever reason, I was more nervous about this job than any of my others, but so far, it's going wonderfully. The small amount of staff employed there has been very friendly and welcoming. I'm being kept busy despite the limited accounts they have. And by the end of my first day, I was more than comfortable.
Of course it doesn't hurt that Christian has been beyond supportive so far; when our respective work days end, he's quick to ask me how my day went and seems to actually enjoy listening to me tell him even the most insignificant details I've been sharing with him. It never stops amazing me just how much he's changed in the recent weeks and there are moments that I wonder where the real Christian Grey is hiding. I would never voice my question aloud, since I wouldn't want to do anything that might cause him to revert back to the old Christian. I love this new Christian. Well, not new, perhaps; he's the sweet, funny, loving, attentive Christian that I fell in love with at the beginning, the one I always wanted to stick around through everything. It never lasted, of course, so I suppose part of me is wondering how long it will last this time around. I hate being suspicious of this, of his motives, but I'm hoping that as the days wear on, that feeling will lessen until it's nothing more than a very distant memory. I don't know whether this Christian has been summoned by our renewed sex life or the prospect of our remarriage or something completely different, or a combination of all the above. And frankly, I don't care. Our relationship has never been better. We haven't had even the slightest disagreement, we're openly sharing things that bother us or that we think might upset the other to hear. I never want to lose the feeling of this moment, knowing we're closer and more united than ever before, and I can't help but wondering when something will change. Lucy's trial is coming up more quickly than I want and I'm fully aware I'm going to be hearing details of my husband's affair. He swears he's told me everything about his and Lucy's relationship, and I think I've managed to come to terms with those details to the point that I can handle hearing them in a public setting.
From what Christian has told me about Lucy's intentions, I have a feeling my husband and his reputation are about to be dragged through the mud, run over by a double-decker bus then flushed down the toilet. This will probably be the most difficult thing to handle, hearing her say whatever she might about the affair, whether it was accurate or not. She's claiming insanity; logic and truth don't come into her testimony.
I was concerned about taking the time off from my new job to fly to London for the job. It's becoming a habit that began with my flying to Seattle only days after starting at Canton Publishing for the Greys' end of summer party. But I'm determined to kick this habit once the trial is over. My employers were surprisingly accepting of my time off request, especially when I explained the reason for my visit to England to see my son's kidnapper punished. Of course our families want to go with us and support us. Christian is understandably resistant to the idea. I'm sure the last thing he wants to face at the end of every court day are the disgusted, accusing, disappointed, angry stares of my parents and his siblings—the only ones unaware of the grittiest of details of his affair. Grace and Carrick will be joining us, much to my surprise. Carrick to help the legal team prosecuting Lucy by providing what information he's come up to prove Lucy had premeditated kidnapping my son from his school; Grace because she's determined to see me and Christian through this. I know that means the absolute world to Christian, since he still wondered how it was possible his mother could love him after everything she's learned about it.
A pair of arms slips around my middle from behind as I stand over the bed, folding laundry and deciding what to pack for the trip. Immediately, my worries cease to exist as I lean back into the hard body behind me and feel lips nuzzling my neck softly. "Careful, my husband will be home any minute," I whisper, becoming increasingly unable to form words, let alone teasing ones as the hands trail up under my shirt. "And he's a very jealous man."
"I'll make sure he doesn't know I'm here, then," says a husky whisper in my ear.
I'm not sure what reaction I expected from Christian at my teasing—annoyance, perhaps—but he doesn't miss a beat as he removes my shirt and turns me around to kiss me. I immediately put my fingers into his soft hair, faintly thinking he'll need a haircut soon, and pull myself closer to him as his fingers move up my bare back. "Where's Teddy?" I gasp when his lips leave mine to kiss my neck.
"Occupied," he replies, his voice muffled by my skin.
Groaning in appreciation, I make quick work of removing his shirt and tie, then moving my hands to his belt as he backs me up against the bed. I know what's coming and while I don't want to stop him, I have to register a token protest. "Christian, our clothes will get messed up."
He stops kissing me, giving me an exasperated look before eyeing the clean laundry folded into neat piles with nothing less than disdain. His eyes narrow briefly as he considers our options. He then grins mischievously at me and I've only got a split second to prepare for him to slide his hands down to my behind and lifting me in his arms. We spin around and his grin widens as I let out a little shriek of laughter at the sudden movement. Another second later, I'm pressed between the bedroom wall and Christian. I do love this time of day. It's been like this almost every evening since we returned from our weekend on The Grace. Not necessarily with the wall—some days, it's in the kitchen; others in the library; on a couple very wonderful occasions, he's caught me in the shower. The outcome is always the same and I have no complaints.
Somehow Christian has managed to get the both of us completely naked without letting out of his arms and he's positioned himself just at my entrance. He slides me down to surround him and kisses me deeply to absorb our pleasurable moans. My legs wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over each other while my hands fist in his hair as he thrusts into me hard and fast. When he adjusts my angle against the wall to allow him to move even deeper inside me, I feel the familiar build up and know I'm not going to last much longer. And judging by the way Christian's face has contorted neither will he.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he whispers, his voice strained. "Being inside you, watching your beautiful face while I fuck you... Favorite place in the world."
As much as I'd like to vocalize my agreement, I can only find two words: "Christian. Please."
"Let go, baby, let me see you..."
With a couple more thrusts of his hips, I explode, throwing my head back and realizing vaguely that Christian anticipated this reaction, thoughtfully cradling the back of my skull to keep it from hitting the wall. Grasping on with what little strength I have in my body, I exaggerate the movements of my own hips to help him reach his own climax—not that he really needs the encouragement; I just figure I should contribute something to his efforts—and he lets out a strangled growling scream that seems to incorporate my name somewhere within it. Moments later, we're sinking to the floor, Christian holding me tightly against him as he kisses every inch of my body that he can reach.
"God, I love you," he breathes against my temple.
"Feeling's mutual," I whisper, resting my head against his shoulder.
He chuckles. "Glad to hear it."
I don't know how long we sit like this, but I'm content. The stress I've been feeling about going to the trial all but disappears, even though I know it's only a very temporary thing and the moment Christian's arms release me, it's all going to flood back. But for this moment in time, I can forget everything but the warmth of his skin and the feeling of being loved and protected from the world. I want to feel this way for the rest of my life.
"So what's all the laundry for?" Christian asks in a whisper against my hair.
Inwardly sighing, I lift my head up. "I'm packing our things for London," I respond.
He tenses. "You don't have to do that, Ana," he chides very gently. "Gail can do it."
I shake my head and the moment is gone. "I needed a distraction and this was the best I could come up with."
Reluctantly, because I know exactly what I'll see, I meet his gaze and as expected, he's looking back with a mixture of remorse and sadness. "You're nervous about the trial."
"A little." When his arms fall away from me, stand up, gathering our clothes. Christian is right behind me, retrieving a pair of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. I keep my back to him as I continue folding our clothes and packing them neatly into our suitcases. I know he's watching me closely, uncertain what to say to alleviate my worries, and honestly, I don't think there is anything he can say right now.
"Ana," he murmurs, sliding his arms around my waist again, though this time it's about comfort—mine as well as his. "We're going to be okay. I know it doesn't seem like it right now, but we will be."
I don't have a response to that. I want to agree with him, to believe him, but every time I recall where we're going and why, dread fills my body. Somehow I manage a tight nod, to which Christian responds by dropping his arms from my waist. He knows me well enough to know not to push me into discussing things I won't want to dredge up, especially when the very things that are bothering me have the very real possibility of driving a wedge between us again. I'm determined not to let that happen, but I'm having trouble reassuring myself, much less Christian.
When I turn around, he's left the room, probably to search out Teddy. He'll be staying with Mia while we're in London. Grace had tried to gently hint that Kate and Elliot were probably better suited to babysit long term, especially since they had Ava, but both Christian and I managed to just as gently decline. I hate that it's like this between me and Kate. After everything we've been through. I'd be foolish to ever expect Kate and Christian to become best friends, but for a while, they were cordial to one another. Probably mostly for the sake of Elliot and me; it still counted. Kate has always been fiercely protective of me, I've always known that. She, much like Christian, believed me to be some naïve, too innocent, wide-eyed bookworm who had less than no knowledge of how the world operated. I tried to show them I wasn't that girl; they never believed it. Well, Christian has a better idea after the last few months, but Kate is still under the delusion that I need taking care of and protection from my husband. I want to make her understand, I want her friendship, and I want her support, but not if she's going to turn on me and Christian for the slightest things.
For the rest of the evening, Christian and I spend what time left we have with Teddy for at least a week. We'll be leaving tomorrow morning and will arrive in London two days before the trial is to begin. Christian says it's because he wants us to have time to relax before we have to face Lucy; I can't say the gesture is unappreciated, though I'm not sure how long I'll be able to hang around the hotel without going stir-crazy and getting stressed out. After Teddy is in bed, he insists on an early bedtime for us as well, which apparently includes a shower together. Once again, I'm sandwiched Christian and a wall. By the time we fall into bed, hours after his insisted bedtime, we're exhausted, mostly sated, and happy to be in each other's arms.
Very early the next morning, our suitcases are packed in the back of the SUV, Christian and I have eaten breakfast, and I'm stumbling outside half-asleep with my husband's arm around my shoulder to guide me while he chuckles at my expense. I'm about to tell him to stop laughing at me when I'm suddenly completely wide awake. Christian stops beside me, sighing in what sounds like resignation and he turns to face me, effectively blocking my gaze of the BMW that's just pulled into the driveway.
"It's up to you," he tells me quietly. "You don't have to talk to her; we can tell her we're in a hurry, and that will be the end of it."
"No," I whisper, staring at his shoulder as I hear the ignition shut off and a door open, then close. "I'll talk to her."
He gives me a terse smile and leans forward to kiss my forehead. "Want me to hang around?" he murmurs against my skin.
I shake my head. "I'll be fine."
"Okay, I'll be in the house when you're finished."
And with that he turns around as Kate slowly approaches us. Her eyes dart between us uncertainly, lingering briefly on Christian. I swear she just gave him a small, nervous smile; he returns a smile of his own, squeezes my arm in some sort of reassurance, and leaves us alone. "Hi," Kate says quietly.
"Hi," I say rather coldly, wrapping my arms around myself. "We're about to leave."
"I know. That's why I'm here." Kate sighs, glancing past me to where I know Christian has decided to linger near the front door. "I was hoping we could talk."
I sigh. "Kate, I've got enough on my mind right now. The last thing I need is another argument with you, and if—"
"Ana, I'm sorry," she says quickly, interrupting me. My eyes widen in surprise. "I really am. I was a complete bitch to both you and Christian, and I said things I know hurt you. Ana, the last thing I want after the last year is to lose you and our friendship. I'm sorry. Whatever it takes, I'll make this up to you."
And once again, the similarities between Kate and Christian shoot to the surface. "Kate, I'm sorry, but I can't be around people who are going to insult my husband at every chance and try to convince me I'm a fool for taking him back. This was my decision, nobody else's, and you of all people..."
Her shoulders slump and she closes some more of the distance between us. "I know," she says sadly. "I'm a total fucking hypocrite. I just don't like seeing you hurt."
"Seeing me hurt?" I repeat incredulously. "Kate, I've been nothing but happy over the last few weeks. Christian and I are rediscovering each other every day and he's never been more committed to fixing us. You can believe me or not, I really don't give a shit anymore. You had your chance to support us, to support me, and you threw it in my face. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a flight to catch so I can see that the bitch who kidnapped my son is given justice."
I start to turn to call for Christian, but Kate stops me. "I know about the remarriage." I stop in my tracks, turning back to her with a furrowed brow. "Christian told me. I just wanted to say congratulations and I really hope for the best for both of you."
"When did Christian tell you?" I ask suspiciously.
"Couple weeks ago." She shrugs. "He asked me to meet him at his office and we talked, and we sorted a few things out between us. I'm not saying I'm his biggest fan, but I really believe he loves you and that he's committed to you. Ana, I just want you to be happy, and despite everything, he makes you happy." She hesitates. "I know you're in a rush to catch a plane, but when you get home, can we talk more?"
I hesitate. Aside from the fact that she and Christian apparently met in secrecy, I know my friendship with Kate won't be mended by one rushed conversation. I have to decide whether I'm willing to put in the time and effort to continue a relationship with somebody who hurt both me and the man I love. You forgave Christian, didn't you? And he hurt you worse than Kate could ever manage... "Sure," I hear myself whisper.
She smiles a real Katherine Kavanagh-Grey smile and the next thing I know, we're hugging. "I'll let the two of you get to the airport. Call me when you get a chance," Kate says, speaking quickly now. "And make sure that bitch gets what's coming to her. Worse comes to worse, I can fly out and hold her down while you beat the shit out of her."
I laugh out loud, waving as she gets into her car and leaves. Christian's arms wrap around my shoulders seconds after her car pulls out of the driveway. "You okay?" he whispers in my ear.
Leaning back in his embrace, I nod. "I'm good," I reply. "Though you get to tell me when you and Kate had this little heart-to-heart that has resulted at her actually smiling at you."
He chuckles. "I'll explain on the plane."
With that, we're on our way. My heart clenches a little as we pull away. Like I told Kate, over the last several weeks, despite everything that's happened, I've never been happier. And I'm absolutely terrified that going to London will change that. All I can hope is that my marriage can withstand whatever happens during this trial and it won't end in my renewed misery.