The walk from the courtroom to the car, then the ride to the hotel and subsequent walk to our suite is a complete blur. I recall muttering something to my parents along the lines of thanking them for being there today and we'd see them tomorrow for our flight home before following Ana into the room. Her arms have been wrapped around herself since I released her after the judge's verdict. She hasn't spoken, hasn't looked at me... Hell, I don't think the woman has blinked... And I have no idea what it means.

Once the door latches shut behind me, I turn to find her leaning against the couch finally looking at me, albeit with wide eyes and a pale face. She's on the verge of tears and there is only one thing I can think to do at this moment.

"Come here, baby," I murmur, opening my arms. The fact that she doesn't even hesitate to push herself off the back of the couch and drop her arms to come to me shows me more than anything else has thus far. Our arms around each other, Ana sobbing unrestrainedly into my chest, I take a moment to reflect on everything.

The shit she has put up with from me since day fucking one makes her a fucking saint. By some miracle she saw something in me that day she fell into my office that made her want to put up with my controlling nature, my torrid past (though torrid doesn't seem to quite cover it, I'm at a loss for the proper word), everything Elena and Leila and Lucy have thrown her way, not to mention all the horrible and downright cruel things I've said and done to her. She has given me so much and for so long all I seemed to do was take from her without giving her anything in return. And I'm not talking material possessions—Ana couldn't give a flying fuck about material possessions. When she gave me the gift of knowing I was to be a father, I countered that with calling her stupid and accusing her of intentionally getting pregnant. She gave up her dream of working in the publishing world to care for our infant son and I wanted her to end that dream forever. Nothing she ever did was good enough for me. If it wasn't right for my schedule—like having a second child—it wasn't fucking happening. Whenever she disagreed with anything I had to say or wanted her to do, I yelled at her, degraded her, made her feel as though she meant nothing to me.

We stand in the middle of the suite holding on to one another for what has to be nearly fifteen minutes before I finally move us over to the couch to sit. Ana immediately curls up in my lap as though she were a small child and I hold her close to me, alternately kissing her head and whispering comforting words in her ear.

Finally her breathing starts to even out and I feel okay about loosening my hold on her enough to tilt her chin up so that I can look her in the eyes. "Would it be a stupid question if I were to ask if you're all right?" I ask quietly, seriously as I gaze deeply into her eyes, trying to see directly into her soul.

Even with puffy, red-rimmed eyes and tear and mascara-stained tracks down her cheeks, she's never looked more beautiful to me than she does right now. My father's advice from earlier about cherishing her and telling her what she means to me comes back and I stow that away for a little later. "If I said yes, I'd be lying," she tells me, resting her head against my collarbone. "I'm relieved. I'm tired. I just want this over and done with."

I nod in agreement. "Me, too, baby. Ana, I know you're tiring of hearing me say this, but I am really and truly sorry for putting you through this ordeal. Never again will you feel this pain. I promise you that."

She nods warily and I know she's thinking that I've made that promise a million times over the years and every time, I've broken that promise. Regardless, she snuggles closer to me. When she takes in a deep breath, I brace myself for whatever she'll say next. "I don't want to talk about it right now," she begins, "but we do need to discuss some of the things I heard today, namely the gifts."

Swallowing hard, I press my lips to her hair and nod. "I understand," I murmur. "When you're ready, I will tell you whatever you want to know." And I mean it. If she asks the question, there will be no hesitation on my part. Not anymore. She deserves full honesty. Not to mention it probably won't hurt my chances in regaining her trust. Regardless of what she says, I know trusting me completely is still a day-to-day uphill battle for her.

When Ana's breathing slows and evens out, I look down to find her fast asleep against my chest. Smiling fondly, I carefully stand and walk us to the bedroom where I lie her down in the middle of the bed before removing her shoes, dress, and bra, then redress her in a nightgown. I pull the blankets up around her chin, softly kiss her lips, and leave her to rest. There are still a few things here in London I need to take care of before our flight tomorrow and since they need to be done properly, I won't be delegating.

I grab my phone and step out onto the balcony before dialing the number, well aware of the time difference. A surprised voice answers the call. "Ros, Christian," I say briskly, not giving her the chance to respond or hang up on me. "I need a favor..."

An hour later, I'm receiving an email from Ros with several attachments and a hope this helps note. I smile; she's come through for me, just as I knew she would. I quickly scan the documents she uncovered for me, not seeing anything that surprises me, considering the information I've learned over the last few weeks. I knew fucking well there had to be some sort of trouble if they were going to the first person who showed any interest, but I didn't realize it was this grave. Normally I wouldn't even look twice at a place like this—I'd already been turned down once and when it comes to business, I don't beg—but I know this meant something to Anastasia and since she's back here with me, I can no longer hold grudges.

My brow furrows at the computer screen. Another first? The changes you've made, Grey...

Smirking, I roll my eyes at myself before setting my plan in motion. Just because I'm letting go of old jealousy in the light of Ana being with me and not somebody else doesn't mean I'm ready to make what I'm about to do publically known. It will all be very anonymous. Money will be transferred through several foreign bank accounts before its final destination and will not be traced back to me. There are just some good deeds I don't want my name attached to.

"Christian?"

I turn and look over my shoulder to find Ana walking into the room looking like she might be sleepwalking. "Hey, baby," I say quietly, closing my laptop and turning my chair towards her. She doesn't hesitate to cross the room and place herself in my lap. "How'd you sleep?"

"Very well," she responds, once again resting her head on my shoulder. "Until I realized you weren't there with me."

I smile apologetically. "I'm sorry," I tell her sincerely. "I just had to finish some business before I joined you."

She looks suspicious. "What business?"

Suddenly she's wide awake and I should have damn well known she'd ask questions. I sigh, hesitating. It's not that I didn't plan on telling her, but I had hoped to put a good deal of distance between us and here before I did so. Her eyes narrow and I see her jaw tense; if I don't give her a suitable answer soon, I'm going to have a long hike back to Seattle when she leaves on the plane without me. From beside my laptop, I reach for a folder and hand it to her.

"What is this?"

She's right to be nervous. The last time I handed her a folder like this, I was handing GEH over to her. This isn't nearly as huge as that, but I certainly understand the reaction. I don't answer, waiting for her to open the folder. She does and I watch her jaw loosen and fall open, and her eyes widen.

"How the hell did you get this?" she breathes, looking at me.

I snort a laugh. "Baby, after all these years, do you really have to ask me that?" I respond.

She looks at me in surprise, then smiles. "Right, of course. Stalker-extraordinaire," she mutters. "How could I have forgotten... Okay, so I'll ask the other pertinent question: why do you have this?"

I think for a moment, trying to find the right words for what I want to say. "Because after everything, you're here," I begin. "It would have been so easy for you to stay with him, live a calm, normal life for a change. If the roles had been reversed and I was in his position, I wouldn't have sent you back to him. I would have taken full fucking advantage of what was in front of me. You told me what he said to you and I'm beyond grateful for that. I don't know another way to show my appreciation than to do this."

"What are you doing?" she asks, still clearly confused.

"Canton Publishing is on a swift downward spiral. They're trying to hide it from their competitors, but it only takes a bit of digging to figure out what's going on over there. They were desperate when Elena came to them to invest and they would have happily signed everything over to the devil if it meant saving their family legacy. When Elena backed out, they started bankruptcy proceedings. I'm putting in my own investment—anonymously—so they don't lose everything. Within a month, they'll be back to level ground and won't have any trouble in the foreseeable future—"

I'm forced to stop speaking when Ana crushes her lips against mine, fisting her hands in my hair to hold me in place as she kisses me furiously. By the time she's finished, we're both panting and gasping for breath. "Not that I'm complaining," I say when I'm able to think semi-clearly again, "but what was that for?"

She smiles. "Because you can be so sweet sometimes," she says softly, placing a lingering kiss on my mouth. "Even if it's anonymous, this really is an incredible gesture, Christian."

I shrug slightly. "Ana, I would give away twice this amount every fucking day if it meant you came home to me every night," I tell her honestly. "It's the least I can do."

"Thank you."

I'm not sure why she's thanking me. It's not like she still works for Canton and will be benefiting from the bailout I'm giving them. Maybe for helping out her friend even though it will do nothing for me. Maybe for not sinking the entire Canton family because of my fears that Thomas might try to steal away my wife. Maybe for not hiding a good deed from her. Whatever it is, I don't get the chance to find out. She kisses me again and this time there is no doubt in my mind what's on hers. Never breaking apart from her, I stand and take her back to the bedroom.

Hours later, I'm lying contentedly against Christian's chest, listening as his heartbeat returns to a more normal pace. This is what I wanted and what I needed: for us to get back to what makes us us after all the courtroom drama. At the thought, I flex my right hand, the one I used to slap Elena Lincoln, and find it still stings.

"What?" Christian asks, cracking open one eye to see me examining my hand. I'm not sure what it is I'm looking for—some sort of residue from having touched such an evil being with my bare skin perhaps.

"My hand still stings," I say in way of an explanation. "You'd think it would have been long enough for that to have faded..."

His brow furrows as he tries to work out why my hand would be stinging and it's a few moments before realization dawns in his mind. He snorts a laugh and shakes his head, bringing my hand to his lips to place several little kisses across my palm which only serves to set my entire body on fire. "How's that feel?" he asks huskily.

"Very nice," I say breathily.

"And how did it feel to finally slap that bitch?"

I laugh. "Better than very nice," I say between snickers. "I have to admit I've harbored a large amount of envy for your mother after she slapped Elena at your birthday party."

"I bet you did," he mutters wryly. "Are you going to tell me what led to that?"

Sighing, I allow Christian to lower my hand back to his chest where he presses it into his skin. For a moment, I revel in the fact that I was the person who was able to get him to the point that he could stand being touched by another human being. I'm very careful to ignore the fact that another woman was touching him in this way without his protests. That part of it still stings quite a bit and much more than slapping Elena ever could.

"Grace and I were in the restroom. I finished first and told her I was going to come find you. When I stepped out the door, Elena was there waiting for us. Of course I demanded to know what she was doing there, how she got there, what she wanted... The list goes on and on. She started in on how I was all wrong for you and how I'll never be what you need. Then she told me how positively perfect Lucy was for you and how I ruined what was the best thing to happen to you." I've been watching his face gradually tense and darken after every one of my words and though I had hoped that we would be home in Seattle before we discussed Elena, I find I need to get this out. "Grace heard that last part—about Lucy being the best thing that ever happened to you—and tried to stop me slapping the bitch. Honestly, it was a pretty half-assed attempt at stopping me. I'm sure she could have if she wanted to."

Christian smirks slightly. "She probably thought it was your turn to have a go."

I smile mischievously. "Probably," I respond. "Anyway, Grace started in on Elena. I don't even remember what she said, I was that furious at her being there... The next thing I knew, you had your arms wrapped around me and Carrick was threatening her." My brow furrows at another part of the conversation that I hadn't had the chance to dwell on. "Speaking of Carrick..."

He sighs heavily. "I have no idea what that was," he tells me, shaking his head. "I don't know if she ever actually propositioned him or if my mother knew... I'm not sure I even want to know. There are just some things that need to remain hidden under lock and key."

The thought of Carrick with Elena causes a shiver to run through my body and Christian pulls the blankets further up our bodies.

"And as for what Elena said to you about Lucy," he says, his voice growing quieter. "Ana, Elena was training Lucy on how to be you, how to steal me away from you for good. Nearly everything Lucy said or did reminded me of you—maybe not at the time, but definitely now in hindsight. I wish I'd seen it then. I wish I'd put it all to a stop."

"I do, too," I tell him. "But it's happened and we're dealing with the repercussions. Together. I'm not going to pretend I'm thrilled that somebody was behind the scenes coaching your mistress on how to keep you interested in her. And I'm sure as fuck not going to pretend that I don't feel as though you very nearly traded me in for a newer, shinier model—"

"Please stop," he says urgently, placing a hand over my mouth. "That's not how I saw it and I know that's not the point." He sighs. "She never would have pulled off being you, Ana. Even if you hadn't found out and things had gone on like they had been, one day I would have stumbled out of that fog and realized you were the one I needed in order to be whole. Nobody could ever replace you and if I'd lost you for good..." He shakes his head hopelessly. "I don't even want to go down that road. Not here. Not now. Not ever. You're mine, Anastasia, and for as long as you'll have me, I'm yours."

Of course there's only one thing I can do in response to those words: before he can even blink, I'm straddling his hip, my hair falling as a curtain around us as I kiss him deeply. I never understood why he believed he needed sex to know that things between us were okay after a fight. Now I think I'm finally starting to understand: This is something neither of us has to think about. This is something that never changes between us. Happy, sad, angry, scared... We can still do this and know the other person is there for us. And especially after today, I need all the reassurance he can give me.

Next morning, we don't waste time having breakfast at the hotel. We're all eager to get home as quickly as possible so we can forget about everything that's happened here. By nine o'clock, we're in our seats and preparing for takeoff. My parents are sitting towards the back of the jet, whether to give them or us privacy, I'm not sure. Once the jet has leveled off in the sky, the flight attendants bring out the breakfast I arranged to have delivered before our arrival.

Conversation flows surprisingly easily, despite the fact that I can hardly look my father in the eye after the confrontation with Elena. Part of me wants to know what she was talking about; part of me wants to stay as far from that subject as humanly possible. I only hope for his sake, if Elena wasn't full of shit, my mother knew about it ahead of time or my father will be far too busy groveling to do anything else.

After breakfast, Ana decides she needs a nap. I smirk to myself, knowing the reason she's tired is because I kept her awake all night talking and doing... other things. Grace pulls out a book and engrosses herself in its pages and Carrick comes to sit across from me.

"How were things when you got back to the room?" he asks quietly.

I sigh. "They could have been much worse. Ana spent a while in my lap crying and I had no idea what to do for her," I say. "She finally calmed down and she seems fine now, but I don't know if that's just a front for my benefit so I don't get upset because she's upset, or if she's really fine."

My father smiles, chuckling quietly. "I don't think it's a front," he says. "That girl wears her emotions on her sleeve most of the time and if she was truly upset, I have no doubt we'd all notice. Take her at her word, son."

Nodding, I change the subject. "What happened yesterday at the courthouse between Mom, Ana, and Elena," I begin, "what's stopping Elena from pressing charges for them slapping the shit out of her?"

If I didn't know any better, my father, the man who despises violence, is enjoying the replay of what happened. "I wouldn't worry about that," he says dismissively. "Taylor gave the police a statement explaining that Elena was in violation of a restraining order and they're focused on that. There was a brief concern about the restraining order originating from the States and whether it was valid in another country, but I've gotten us around that. She'll be sent back to Seattle for the violation and will be dealt with locally."

"The punishment?"

"Automatic jail time," Carrick informs me. "I'm not sure on length of time, but by the time she's released, we'll be ready to move forward on the embezzlement charges."

Ah, yes... The embezzlement. It seems both Lucy and Elena were involved in scamming Lucy's non-profit organization for millions of dollars over the last year. For the most part, they'd managed to keep their hands clean, squirreling away the money. We haven't worked out what they planned to do with it, but I have no doubt in the world that at least a fraction would have been put towards once again attempting to dismantle my marriage brick-by-brick. "That should keep her out of our hair for a while," I mutter darkly.

Carrick nods in agreement and falls into a thoughtful mood. I know that expression; it's the one he uses when he wants to talk to me about something I might not want to hear. And he's normally right about my not wanting to hear it. "I'm surprised you haven't asked me yet."

"Asked you what?" I say warily, afraid I know exactly where he's going with that opening.

"Elena and me."

I immediately hold up a hand to stop him. "Dad, I really think that's something I don't want to hear about. Ever."

Carrick laughs. "It's nothing like that, Christian," he assures me. "Nothing ever happened between us, if that's what you're worried about."

I'm really not sure I want to have this conversation, but my curiosity is getting the better of me. "Okay," I say slowly. "So what happened?"

"It was while you were away at Harvard," he says promptly. "Around the time she and Linc started having real problems and there were rumors going around that they were splitting up." My eyes widen at this news. I'd always been under the impression that while I was Elena's sub, which didn't end until I had dropped out of Harvard, she wasn't seeing anybody. I know I wasn't, but that was more due to the fact that I knew what she would do to me if she got word that I was screwing random college girls. "Grace had been on-call that week and the hospital needed her to come in for some emergency or another. Elena showed up at the door around ten o'clock that night looking upset. She was looking for your mother of course, but considering the state she was in, I thought I'd be a good friend and let her in, at least until she calmed down enough to drive herself home. We talked a little about Linc and she asked for some advice about how to get around the prenup she signed if they divorced. I've never been Linc's biggest fan, but at least he was smart enough to demand one when he married her. As it was, she took him to the courts for enough alimony to nearly bankrupt him. Anyway, while we were talking, we had a couple drinks. She's always been the flirtatious type, it was part of her personality, but it became blatantly obvious she wasn't just flirting with me after a while. Eventually I called her a cab and sent her home. For one, I would never hurt your mother like that, even if there was some draw between Elena and me, and for another, your sister was due home at any time from being out with her friends."

I caught the subtle jab at my infidelity; I choose to ignore it. "Did you tell Mom?" I want to know.

He nods. "The moment she got home," he confirms. "I think the only thing stopping her from going to Elena's and gouging out her eyes was the knowledge that she'd been drinking and in a vulnerable position, so we both put it out of our minds. Not that that kept either of us from being on our guard any time Elena was around. Your mother slowly distanced herself from Elena after that. Their friendship never recovered, even though Elena had no idea why it was happening."

"I did notice they weren't as close when I left Harvard," I say thoughtfully. "But I don't think I really put too much thought into why."

"Well, that was why," Carrick tells me matter-of-factly. "And of course your mother was only reminded of that incident the night of your birthday, which certainly didn't help matters. The restraint that woman possesses is incredible. And if it hadn't been in practice that night, Grace would have happily strangled Elena with her bare hands." Carrick pauses, looking at me for a moment. "Do me a favor, though, Christian, and don't tell Grace you know about this. She was beyond horrified that Elena brought it up in front of you and Anastasia."

"So why are you telling me now?" I ask, bemused.

Carrick sighs. "Because I want you to know the extent of that woman's lies and manipulation," he tells me, his tone turning stern. "You told me once your relationship with Elena lasted until you were twenty-one, which if I'm right in my calculations is just after you dropped out of college. I don't know the specifics of went on with you and I don't want to know, but I had the feeling you were convinced whatever was going on with you and Elena was exclusive to you and Elena. Meanwhile, she's back here in Seattle trying to seduce me and god only knows who else. Is she why you never dated?"

Why am I having this conversation with my father? "Mostly," I admit. "Back then, at least. And yes, I was under the delusion she and I were exclusive. Just another example of how fucked up my world view was before I met Ana."

Carrick nods his agreement. "I'm glad you found her," he tells me quietly. "And I know I probably should have said this a long time ago, but I apologize for believing the worst of her in the beginning." My brow furrows in thought, trying to work out what he's referring to; then it hits me: after we announced our engagement, my dad pulled me into his study and all but demanded I make Ana sign a prenuptial agreement before the wedding. The fight that ensued from that discussion still to this day goes down in history of being one of the worst ones we've ever had. It was only because of my mother that we started speaking again before the wedding... "I'm always going to be protective of my children and the last thing I wanted to see was all your hard work going to waste if her intentions towards you were less than honorable."

"Have you apologized to Anastasia for this?" I ask curtly. Apparently I'm still harboring ill feelings about this topic. "Because from the very beginning I knew she wasn't the gold digger you tried to make her out to be—"

"I know," Carrick interrupts, raising a placating hand. "I know, son. And yes, I have spoken and apologized to Ana." My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "A couple years ago now. The two of you were arguing about something while you were at the house for dinner and while you and Elliot went off and did something together, Ana just sat on the deck staring out into the yard. We had a very good talk that evening and I apologized wholeheartedly for what I did. She was very kind about it, actually, which only made me feel worse for the things I thought of her."

I smirk slightly. Yes, I am very familiar with Ana's sweet, kind, almost innocent disposition when faced with how others treat her. She's mastered "killing them with kindness" and I have a theory that she sometimes just forgives people to make them feel guilty. "Well, I appreciate your apology. And I'm glad Ana has accepted it as well."

"Good," Carrick says quietly, his eyes darting towards the back of the jet. "So what's next for you two?"

I raise an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" I ask cautiously.

"After this remarriage, is that the extent? Have you discussed having more children?"

Why is my father asking if my wife and I have discussed more children? "No, we haven't," I say shortly. I haven't really given it much thought myself. I've been so focused on winning her back that I haven't really thought any further than the remarriage. But what about more children? I know it's something Ana and I wanted in years past—usually at totally opposite times—but is it still something she thinks about? Given everything I've put her through, I wouldn't be surprised if she told me she didn't want more children because she fears I'll just end up hurting her and them again.

"I never really envisioned myself having children," Carrick says thoughtfully. "After college, I was so focused on my career and your mother that it never even crossed my mind."

"So what changed?" I ask quietly.

He sighs, smiling fondly in memory. "Your mother was determined. We were both just starting out professionally and newly married, but she wanted a family. And of course I wanted to make her happy... A year or so after we married, she got pregnant and I'll never forget the excitement on her face when she told me. It may not have been something I was particularly looking forward to, but I loved seeing your mother so happy. She lost the baby. And she was positively devastated. I thought she was going to drop her career, but somehow she got through it. A few months later, it happened again—she found out she was pregnant, and weeks later, she miscarried. This happened three more times before the doctors finally told us the chance of Grace carrying a pregnancy to full term was slim. We were both upset with that news. I had to watch your mother's dreams being crushed and there was nothing I could do about it. There were options, of course, but we weren't ready to explore them. That was when we first met Elliot."

The smile on my father's face widens and I smile as well. "Six months old, and that little boy melted my heart. Gave me this huge toothless grin and kept those blue eyes locked on me whenever I was in the room. I never thought it would be possible to love a child that wasn't my own biologically, but the second I held Elliot, he stole my heart. Your mother's too. The day he came home with us was the best of my life. I realized it didn't matter if your mother and I couldn't have our own children. There were plenty of other children who needed a loving home. Elliot was always so energetic, though, that we didn't think about adopting again until Grace met you. And then Mia..." He shakes his head in wonder. "I can't imagine my life without any of you in it. All of you had your troubles, some of you more than others... But at the end of the day, biological or not, you're my children and I wouldn't trade you for the world.

"And I realize this doesn't seem to have any relevance to our discussion, but I want you to understand the importance of having your family. I know enough about what happened between you and Anastasia to know you nearly lost the two best things in your life—your wife and son. I don't want to see that happen again. You're a wonderful father, Christian, but you're the same way I was when I was starting my law firm. Your business comes first too much of the time and your home life suffers because of it. If you and Anastasia are determined to make your marriage work, put everything into it. And if another grandchild came along, I don't think your mother would be upset."

I crack a smile, thinking over my father's words. "I'd like another child," I say wistfully. "Not until Ana is ready, though. I need her to trust me to be there for her and our children. I love my son more than anything and I will always regret not being there for the milestones of his life—the first time he sat up, I was at work; the first time he crawled, I was on the other side of the country; his first word..." I'm starting to get angry with myself. Rightfully so.

"It's all about balance, son," Carrick tells me gently. "I know I missed a few birthday parties because of work and I regret that."

"You're here now, though," I say suddenly. "Even though it might have been easier to stay in Bellevue and let me deal with my own messes."

"I'm always here for you, Christian," Carrick says sincerely. "I don't care how old you are or how much you're worth; you're still my son. And I still have no problem dragging you into my study by your ear if you fuck up again, so get your head on straight and take care of your family."

I laugh and a few moments later, my dad joins in. When my mother walks up, eyeing us suspiciously, I sober myself and meet Carrick's eye again. "Thanks, Dad," I tell him quietly before getting up, kissing my mom on the cheek, and making my excuses so I can go curl up behind my wife for the remainder of our flight.

"Mommy!"

A large smile begins growing on my face when I hear that word. Christian and I get out of the SUV in front of Mia and Ethan's apartment building to find the couple waiting for us, our son and his things at their feet. Christian is chuckling quietly and I know it's because if we hadn't called to say we were ten minutes away, it would look like they couldn't wait to be rid of their nephew.

"Nothing better than four days of babysitting to enforce birth control," Christian says under his breath. I smother my laugh and shoot him a disapproving look that only increases his amusement.

"Hey, baby boy!" I say, reaching down to take my son in my arms, hugging him tightly to me. "I missed you."

"Missed you, Mommy," he says into my shoulder. My heart breaks a little. He's not used to spending so much time from both Christian and me. The anniversary vacation Christian arranged for us last year was the longest he'd ever done so and the weeks after that were spent with him clinging to me every chance he got.

Over the last few weeks, I fear I've neglected my son. There's been so much going on between Christian and me and starting work that my time with Teddy has suffered. For close to a year, nearly every minute of my day was spent with him as my main focus. I had no other real distractions, even when I was working, and I dedicated myself to making sure he was happy and well-cared for; it was the least I could do after ripping him away from his family the way I did.

I feel Christian's arms surround us and he kisses the top of my head. "Let's go home, baby," he says quietly. It's only now that I realize I'm crying, and I don't even know why. Relief, perhaps, that I'm with my family again. Or that there's finally a chance that our lives will return to some semblance of calm and normal.

Faintly, I hear Christian thanking Mia and Ethan for keeping Teddy, and their responses, as I load myself and my son into the car. Christian climbs in beside us and though my gaze is locked on Teddy, who is regaling us with everything he did this weekend, I know he's watching me in concern. If Teddy wasn't in the car, I have no doubt that I would be in his lap while he coaxes me into telling him what's bothering me.

Gail and Taylor have been given the evening off, leaving Christian, Teddy, and me to have our time together. Teddy is the center of our focus this evening and it's clear he is enjoying all the attention. While Teddy and I are playing some game that involves Legos, toy cars, and a Mister Potato Head, I notice Christian has been very quiet. I look over at him and he's watching Teddy and me with a slightly glazed expression and some glint in his eyes that I can't identify. Longing, perhaps; though longing for what I have no idea. Every time he catches me watching him, he gives me his soft, shy, slightly sad smile that grips my heart. I want to know what he's thinking, what put that expression on his face, but at the same time, I'm slightly afraid of whatever it might be. I know he and Carrick spent a lot of time talking on the flight home and whatever passed between them seemed to deeply affect Christian.

For the first time in my memory, when we dropped Carrick and Grace at their home, Christian actually pulled his father into a hug. Carrick didn't seem as surprised by his son's actions as he might have been a few weeks ago, but he looked pleased, and I know Grace was shocked; I saw a few tears escaping her eyes as she and Carrick went inside.

After bath time, during which Christian and Teddy spend more time playing with the water, splashing each other, than actually getting any washing done, we have an extended story time. Teddy is sandwiched between the two of us, his head resting on Christian's chest, his hand holding onto mine as though he's afraid I'll leave again if he lets go. When he falls asleep, Christian and I gently extricate ourselves from our son and the bed, take our turns kissing him then leave the room with our arms around each other.

Without a word, Christian starts a shower for the two of us and we spend the next half hour or so washing each other, nothing more sexual than the occasional kiss or grazing of fingers passing between us. There's something almost reverent in the way Christian washes my body as though he's fascinated with every inch of skin he washes. When we step out of the shower, he immediately wraps me in a towel, paying no mind to his own body dripping with water, and makes sure I'm warm before sending me into the bedroom with a quiet promise of joining me soon.

I'm nervous for some reason. I just have this feeling he wants to talk to me about something and I don't know what. By the time he climbs into bed beside me, I'm on edge.

"Can I ask you something?" he says quietly, looking at his hands rather than me. I nod jerkily as my heart rate nearly skyrockets in anticipation. He's considering his words carefully, his brow furrowed deeply, then finally meets my gaze. The emotions I see stop my heart for a moment. He's nervous, hopeful, afraid, and sad. I just want to hold him, but I keep my distance, knowing he needs to say whatever is on his mind before I do anything. "I realize I probably don't have much right to ask you this, but I need to know." His tone is earnest, almost desperate. I nod again for him to continue. "Have you considered the thought of having more children?"

My mouth drops open in shock and I know fucking well I'm staring at him like a deer in headlights. Of all the things that I thought might be bothering him, this hadn't even made the list. The worst part is that I have no idea what to say in response, which I know will only send him farther into this brooding mood he's fallen into.

"I don't mean immediately," he amends quickly. "More in the abstract..."

I manage to find my voice. "Children aren't abstract, Christian," I tell him in a whisper.

He nods. "I know," he replies. "I also know we still have a lot to do before we seriously consider having this conversation, but I just wanted to know where you stood."

Where the hell did this come from? We haven't discussed having more children in almost two years and now, seemingly out of the blue, here he is, having this conversation with me after the week we just had. Part of me is relieved that he still wants children with me, though that same part is telling me he never said any such thing; he just wants to know my thoughts on the subject. What does that mean? Does he want more children? Is he just asking so he can figure out how to let me down gently before I start getting my hopes up that we might sometime in the future?

I know I have to be honest with him right now. We need to know where we each stand on everything in regards to our marriage, and if one of us wants something the other doesn't and we just bottle it up so the other doesn't get hurt feelings, we're doomed. "I've always wanted a big family," I hear myself whispering to him, staring at my fingers. "I know what it's like to grow up an only child and I don't want that sort of loneliness for my son. At the same time, though, as much as I hate to say it, things between you and I are still a little murky as far as the future goes and I think I'm a little afraid of what might happen if we bring another child into it."

He sighs heavily and I think I just confirmed the thoughts he's been having. "I agree," he says, swallowing hard. "I know I haven't been what you need when it comes to our family and I wish I could snap my fingers and make it right again, but after everything that's happened, I want another child with you. There is no way I could fault you if you feel differently, especially after the way I initially reacted with the news about Teddy and all the fights we had about having more."

Suddenly, there's something I need to know. "The few times we discussed having children and you agreed, telling me exactly this, you changed your mind out of nowhere, Christian. And every time that happened, it broke my heart. One minute you're this incredibly devoted father and the next you refuse to even discuss it." He actually flinches at my words. "I never understood what made you change your mind."

His eyes close tightly and I can see him warring with himself about what to say next. When his eyes open, I'm surprised to see tears forming. "Because I'm afraid," he tells me, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not of being a father again, because that was one of the best things we ever did. I'm afraid of what you went through to deliver Teddy. I nearly lost both of you that day, Ana, and it nearly killed me. Yes, I want more children, but I cannot stomach the thought of watching you go through that sort of delivery again. If I lost you..." His face contorts as though he's in pain and I move closer to him, wrapping him in my arms. He drops his head to my shoulder and holds me. I don't think he's crying, but he's not far from it.

"Everything tells me to do whatever is necessary to keep you safe," he says into my neck. "And if you're in the position where you and our child are in distress, I can't do that. I never told you what Dr. Greene said to me the day you gave birth."

My entire body stiffens. "What?" I ask slightly fearfully.

Taking a shuddering breath, he pulls away slightly to look me in the eyes. "She told me there was a chance that I might have to choose," he breathes. "I might have to choose between the love of my life and my unborn child. It never actually came to that, but knowing it was a possibility was the worst feeling in the world. How am I supposed to make that decision? If I chose you, you'd resent me for the rest of our lives for the loss of our baby. If I chose the baby, I'd have to face my life without you." He pauses. "I can't even fucking believe I'm about to tell you this... There was a very brief moment when I thought that it might be better if neither of you survived, because at least then there wasn't a constant reminder of my decision. I'd never be able to live with myself, whatever the outcome might have been and I have no idea what I would have done afterwards..." He places his hands on my face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that are falling. "You're my life, Anastasia. You and our son. And I want nothing more than to have the chance to expand our family. But I can't lose you in the process."

I am in absolute shock. Of course I'd known that my delivery of Teddy was far from smooth and I know the complications just seemed to mount, even after I agreed to the cesarean, but I never had even an inkling that it had gotten that bad. It certainly explains a few things, like how Christian had all of a sudden become a hovering father unable to part himself from me or his son for more than a few minutes, and I'm very glad he never told me this before or I would have stopped asking him to have more children. I could never make him go through that.

"Are you saying it's worth the risk now?" I ask tentatively, unable to gage his reactions.

"Nothing is worth the risk of losing you," he tells me, then rolls his eyes. "And I certainly recognize the irony of that statement given what I've put you through. What I'm saying is that I desperately want another child and I'm willing to allow the doctors to know how to care for you. Even Dr. Greene has said she never expected you to have such a difficult birth, but she's confident that now she knows what the outcome might be, she can better treat you so that you don't go through that again."

At some point, we moved so that I'm lying on his chest with his arms wrapped tightly and protectively around me. I look up, resting my chin just over his heart as I consider my next words. "I want another child," I whisper. "Maybe not in the immediate—like you said, we have a lot of work to do on us before that—but I absolutely, without a doubt want our son to have a sibling."

The smile on his face is one of hope, relief, joy, and adoration. Unable to find a response, he flips our positions so that he's above me, kissing me so deeply I can't figure out where I end and he begins. This is where we belong. This is what I thought we'd never get back. I know we're not there yet, but I cannot wait for the moment that we come out on the other side of this mess, stronger than ever. And there is no doubt in my mind that that moment is coming quickly.