Chapter 18

Taking a deep breath, Christian opened the door to Ana's hospital room and walked in, pausing as he took in Ana looking off to the window with tear streaks drying on her cheeks: "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked as he moved across the room and took her into his arms. "Talk to me, Ana. You're scaring me…" he entreated as she buried her head into his shoulder.

"It might be nothing…" was her muffled replied.

Closing his eyes, he moved back slightly to look at her: "what is it?"

"I can't… I can't…"

"You can't what?"

"I can't feel my legs properly Christian…" she admitted as she looked away from him.

"Not at all?" he asked.

"Not… not really."

"What did the doctor's say? They had to have said something, Ana…"

Swallowing, she looked back into his eyes as he pushed the hair out of her eyes and wiped at her still falling tears: "I kinda shut down when I realized that I couldn't… Taylor came in when the doctor's realized that I wasn't taking in information that I needed to to make medical decisions, and since he's POA…" she sighed: "he told me that they said it was probably due to the swelling… that I should get the feeling back.
But, Christian… I'm scared."

"Of course you are," he replied gruffly as he took her back into his arms, wondering what he could say. Only one thing came to mind: "if it had to be one of us, why'd it have to be you?"

"Christian…" she choked out, unsure what to say.

"You know, if I can paint you can walk again," he added, deliberately paraphrasing a movie quote.

"But you don't…" Ana started to protest then giggled: "You did not just quote 'An Affair to Remember.'"

"What, did you think I only learned 'it's Yar,' from the movies I watched with my mom?" he asked, and then added: "your giggle is still the best sound I've ever heard. I've missed it."

"I've had to have giggled on the phone when we talked."

"Sounds different in person," he said as he kissed her forehead and then pulled back slightly: "why did you stop meeting with me when I came to NY- it's been almost five years, Anastasia."

Nervously, Ana looked down and started to fiddle with the buttons on his shirt: "at first it was really because of work. It seemed like every time you came something would come up so I couldn't meet you- even after I told my supervisor that I had plans.
Then, I was scared. It was like too much time I had passed since we last saw each other and even though we still talked it just worried me. I know now it has to do with- I had an episode last year, Christian, I was very depressed. I couldn't tell my doctor everything- I felt embarrassed and ashamed and one night I had a really bad anxiety attack. For over an hour I wrote everything down that I could, even though I couldn't keep up with the speed of my thoughts- he got me into a program. I was diagnosed with Depression, Anxiety, and Social Anxiety."

"That's why you had a WRAP plan?" he asked as he put a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to meet his. "Ana, did you really think I would judge you for needing help? After how long I've been seeing Flynn?"

She exhaled: "I don't know what I thought. Therapy was helping and so were the meds and I was forcing myself to do things I had been afraid of before- but I knew we would have to discuss the past too. I was always afraid that I would find out it was too late for us. That our greatest regret really would be 'what might have been.'"

"So you wouldn't even take a chance?"

"I did the only way I knew how- every year I asked if you had a date for the Coping Together ball."

He shut his eyes: "and every year I said yes- which was exactly true. Except for that first year I took Ros."

"Really?"

Christian nodded: "The only person I ever dated a month or two was Elliot's wife, Mani's, best friend/business partner, Nula. We dated about a year- but she and I never had what you and I did. I look back and think now I was trying to prove a point. With Nula I was vanilla…"

"Oh."

"No, let me finish- I mean straight plain vanilla- not even French Vanilla. I mean as bland vanilla as you can get. No kinky fuckery- or even admitting to it.
We were both with the other because we couldn't be with who we wanted to be with- and I can only guess who her mystery person was- a month after she and I ended things she was married to someone else," he admitted. "I just figured it was me.
That I didn't deserve more- and then I would think of you and remind myself that you were- are- my more."

"You mean that? Even now? With all this time between us- and even this?"

"I wasn't the one who ever doubted it, I just let my pride get in the way," he told her as he kissed the edge of her nose. "And do you think that we can have what we always should have?" he asked her.

"One day, I'm going to show you the story I'm writing. Names have been changed, but you'll see past it. See how I've been trying to rewrite our love story- a story where instead of the trusty bodyguard driving the misguided heroine home she goes back upstairs to the hero and gets him to see what she now understands: he wasn't the one controlling her but her so called best friend was.
She wants a life with him, a life together from that moment on- and although he's hurt he hears her out and they get their second chance."

Christian smiled: "So will we," he said as he rested his head against her forehead: "we have time to talk and figure it out. I'm not going anywhere…"