A/N: I hate to do this as I know it is against the site rules, but I don't know another way to get out a message to those of you who have supported this story.

Don't fear, I have not abandoned nor have I lost interest in this story. My mother had a heart attack a couple of weeks ago. It is her second in as many years, so needless to say, this is serious. I have PM'd some of you that have PM'd me to let you know what is going on. But I cannot get a message to guest readers and if I could PM each of you, I might as well sit down and finish the chapter, which I have no time for. So though this is against the rules, and I know will get some of your hopes up for a continuation of the story (it's coming), I didn't know of another way to get my current status out to you.

I am well into chapter 8 and…9 for that matter. But as I have communicated with a few of you right now I am my mother's primary care giver, taxi cab (she really likes Walmart), chef, and all around go-for, and that is as it should be, but doesn't leave much time or energy for writing. Not to mention my own household to run. I will be posting, family has started to rally and I will be getting some much needed relief this weekend. Hold on, it's coming, I am as antsy as you.

Thank you kindly for your well wishes and your patience.

Diane

1/10/14

I feel I owe you all an explanation. The last 3 months of 2013 were simply unbelievable. My father decided to follow my mother's example and had a heart related episode that landed him in the hospital for several days. My step-mom, who I am very close with had to have a lumpectomy to remove a malignant tumor, and my sister and I are feuding. And as Murphy's law would have it one bad thing has followed another. Without going into too much personal detail, I am dealing with additional family issues, ie: marriage, children, and extended family drama. And as I deal with angst in my everyday life, producing angst for fictional characters has unfortunately fallen to a distant second. I know this is not fair. And I am addressing this now because of what a guest reviewer left for me. They were exceptionally respectful, but did bring to my attention that my story created a ruckus in the beginning and what a shame it is to let it stall now since that is what the other author did. It's not stalled because I was deterred by mean reviewers, life stepped up and took a chunk out of my behind. I have been trying to write and do have about 2,000 words in on 8 and really just one more scene to write before I would send to fungirlygirl to edit. But I don't think it's my best work because their voices aren't in my head at the moment. At the moment my own trials and tribulations are consuming my thoughts. Though I know this does not fulfill your desire for the continuation, I felt I needed to say something after all these months. I am very sorry, and truly upset that my story has been on such a long hiatus. It's weird to me that when I was in a good place drama and angst flowed from me, now that I have all this churned up in my real world, my muse isn't whispering in my ear, or at least I don't really like what she has to say.

Trying to get back into the flow of things, hopefully 2014 will bring better fortune and inspiration.

story to follow

~oo0oo~

Recap and Narration: Christian is grappling with both personal and professional problems. It would seem things have reached a crisis point. He's at a crossroad, and certain realizations crash into him.

Christian

I pull up in front of Escala and realize I don't want to face the stark, silent, sterile atmosphere of my penthouse, so I drive. I take an aimless tour of Seattle, and ninety minutes later find myself at the gates of Grey Meadow. After tapping in the code the R8 slides up the driveway. It feels strange being here, the cold realization that through my own illicit, deceitful, and immoral deeds I have lost the right to be here. Though the house is not totally dark you can tell it's not lived in, no occupants, none of the noises created by a loving family. The thought that my self-destructive, fucked up ways, and selfish actions drove them from here is battering my already unstable emotional state. But I need to feel the enveloping comfort of my family home.

The silence is deafening; the sound of silence engulfs me, a sensory confirmation of my loneliness, as if the growing ache in my chest was not enough. I stalk to the scene of the crime; where I foolishly broke my wife's heart. Ryan startles me as he steps into the family room where I've been standing for god knows how long.

"Mr. Grey?"

"Ryan, I didn't realize anyone was here."

"Uh, yes sir, per your instructions someone is always in the security office." He hesitates then continues. "Is there something you need, Sir?"

"No, I'm fine, you may return to the office." As he turns to leave I stop him. "Ryan, is Taylor at home?"

"No, he and Mrs. Taylor are at your brother's house, along with Sawyer."

I'm puzzled. "What are they doing over there?"

Ryan's look is equally puzzled. "I have no idea Sir."

I glare at him a long moment and then dismiss him. "Thank you Ryan, that'll be all."

As my attention returns to my melancholy musings I see the events of our life here running before me as if from a projector.

I remember Teddy's first steps right here in this room. Ana had been saying all day she thought he would start walking soon. I wasn't so sure. Everything I read said babies didn't walk for at least the first year; Ted was only 10mos. But she was sure he wanted to walk. Teddy had been pulling himself up on the furniture for a couple of weeks, he would pull up and just stand there and bounce on his chubby little legs. Until one evening after dinner, we were in here relaxing just before his bath. Ted was so active that night, he was pulling up and cruising the coffee table like it was a race course. He had this plush little purple elephant that trumpeted when you drew the string at its tail; he loved that toy. He wanted it but it was just out of reach. We could see him getting frustrated. He reached for it but would have to let go of the table to get it. I quietly ask Ana if she were watching this, 'mhmm,' was her answer. Ted's legs were bouncing furiously in uncoordinated frustration. I went to grab the toy for him but Ana held my arm.

"No, babe, let him work it out, he might even walk over to get it himself if he gets mad enough."

So we watched and waited. And sure enough, with a couple more bounces and some serious grunting, Ted let go and hesitantly toddled on wobbly legs over to the elephant and plopped down. Ana and I were clapping and cheering so loud we scared our baby and he started to cry. Later that night Taylor stopped by my office and let me know they had been watching in the security suite and were cheering just as loud.

Memories are crashing over me like waves upon the shore. The countless evenings we sat cuddled in front of the fire when Ana was pregnant with Teddy, me rubbing her belly, talking or singing to our baby boy.

As I stand here staring at the spot of my marriages demise my stomach twists and I have to dart to the nearest bathroom and empty my gut of the dinner I shared with Paige. It's symbolic I feel, as I purge my gut I feel the purge of whatever feeling I had for Paige.

No one has Ana's heart. No one has Ana's unassuming, sweet nature, especially not Paige. Simply put, I don't trust her. There is no comparison. Ana is a lifetime, Paige is fifteen minutes that never should have been. What the fuck was I thinking? How could I have been so blind, so stupid? I want to hurt myself for hurting Ana, my beloved, the way I have.

I drift from room to room and let the memories wash over me, reviving and refreshing my love and passion for my wife and son, hopefully cleansing the putrid stench of my infidelity from my body and soul. Stopping in my study I stand before the portrait of Ana that Jose took years ago. It's like I'm seeing her for the first time. Her beauty is striking; gazing at it thrills and saddens me at the same time. She's not the same girl as she was then, as I take in her smiling face I know I've taken a lot away from her with my domineering and selfish behavior, with this lifestyle that she's never gotten totally accustomed to. If it's the last thing I do I am determined to see her this way again. After leaving my study I find myself in Teddy's room. The room is slightly messy. Ana packed his things in a hurry and didn't bother to close drawers or doors in her haste to get away from all the hurt I caused. There is a scattering of toys and art supplies on the floor. As I walk around the room I pick up his things putting them back where they belong. I want the room tidy when my boy and my wife return.

Standing before our bedroom door I hesitate momentarily before turning the knob and walking in, feeling like a trespasser, feeling like a fraud. The first thing that hits my senses is the scent of her still in the room, the next thing that hits me knocks the breath right out of my lungs, and I audibly gasp. The sight of her engagement and wedding rings and the charm bracelet that holds so much meaning for us both lying on my pillow generates a visceral twist in me. It is an actual blow to my gut. She doesn't want any reminder of me. I've ruined it, I have fucked up everything. I have destroyed my marriage and lost the only woman I'll ever truly love. Taylor's words from earlier this evening come back to me 'Mrs. Grey visited an attorney this afternoon….' My knees give way and I find myself kneeling at the side of our bed. What the fuck have I done? This time last week I shared this very bed with my wife, and now I don't know if that will ever be again. The ache in my chest is growing and I wonder if I am having a heart attack. How did I not remember it would feel this way? I reach over and clasp the jewelry in my hand. I want to feel connected to her, no, I need to feel connected to her. Her skin was the last thing to touch these rings, this bracelet laid over her pulse.

What I have…or had with Ana is right, is good, is true. It doesn't have to be hidden or kept secret; on the contrary it should be celebrated. Please God don't let me have lost her. How will I survive without her? This can't be the end. I have to get her back. She will come back to me, she has to. Crawling on to the bed I grab her pillow chasing any remnant of her left on it. I'm in luck, I can smell her on the pillow case. I inhale deeply, burying my face into the surrogate of who I really want to hold, and it is a poor substitute.

Paige is not my future, so clearly obvious now, and if I wasn't so selfish and fucked up would never have been a part of my life at all. How have I allowed things to slide so wildly out of control? How have I allowed myself to slide so wildly out of control, is the better question?

I don't deserve forgiveness, but the selfish prick in me wants it, and I'm going to ask for it. Ana is so loving, open, and forgiving; I hope I haven't I killed those qualities in her? I lay on her pillow, reveling in the remnants of her scent and fall into a restless sleep while silently praying this isn't the end...

Seattle Nooz Reporter POV

TROUBLE IN THE KINGDOM: Seattle Nooz has just received word from several anonymous sources that our very own Christian Grey was seen last evening at SkyCity, with what appears to be a date, another stunningly beautiful brunette that was decidedly not Mrs. Grey. A cozy table for two, and the tables surrounding them reserved to make for a quiet, intimate atmosphere. We will definitely be taking a bite of this juicy apple.

"You know Grey will come after us if this info is baseless." My editor warns me as he looks over my copy. "Who are your sources?"

"I'm not giving you my sources, so forget it, but here, look," I turn my laptop to face him. "They may be a little blurry but that is definitely Christian Grey, and I tap the right arrow key, "and that….is not Ana Grey."

"Alright then, up load." I sit back in my chair with a satisfied smirk.

~oo0oo~

As always thanks to fungirlygirl, you added the right amount of pepper to give it a punch.

I am going to try very hard to update on a more regular basis, I had forgotten how much fun this is, but nothing has changed in my real life. So the best I can tell you is that updates will be sporadic. I'm going to try and do shorter chapters in an attempt to post a little more regularly.

I own nothing, thanks to E. L. James for letting us play with her creation.