A/N: I just want those of you who post reviews as guests to know that I am unable to respond to you since FF only has a response option for readers who sign in. But please know that I read and appreciate your comments very much and wish I could respond to all. My heartfelt thanks to the guest reader who mentioned she bought Three and a Half Weeks after reading this fanfic. Every sale is appreciated, of course, but I especially love it when my FF readers support my published work.

Now, let's find out how well y'all know your FSoG. Buried in the text of this chapter and/or the next one are two lines, verbatim, from the original books. Let's see if you can identify them.

Chapter 32

When I wake up my face is nestled in the crook between his shoulder and jaw. Mmm, I want to wake up right here every day. I burrow closer and his arm squeezes my shoulder. "Nice nap?"

"Mmhmm. Better than my last one. I had a bad dream. Earlier. When I fell asleep waiting for you," I whisper, rubbing my eyes.

Looking down his nose at me, he asks, "What about?"

I sniff, unsure I should tell him. I may not be all that experienced when it comes to men but something tells me that giving them too much information they can use against me is not a good idea. "Um, I was at a nightclub with…"

"With?"

"With Hans."

A cold mask descends over his face and I can feel his body stiffen under mine. I quickly continue.

"You were with a woman. A beautiful blonde. You looked at me—and I was crying—and then you went back to laughing with her. There was a boy…"

His arm tightens again, squeezing me closer to his warmth and the mask lifts.

"A child. He looked just like you."

"Ana, it was a dream." Kissing my head, he murmurs, "There's no one else but you."

I bolt up. "How can you say that, Christian? There are women coming at you from all ends. I've been to your mother's only twice and I've met two or three already… not to mention the ones I've seen in photos with you. And today I was very clearly warned off you by one of them—one you have a sexual history with, no less. How am I supposed to feel?" I lie back down on his warm, comforting chest.

Under my ear there's a whoosh as a long, weighty sigh expels from his lungs. "I suppose I can see why you'd feel upset about it. I have a checkered past—no doubt about it. Honestly, though, I've never had much of a relationship with any of them. I think that's why my parents were thrilled when they met you. I think they were starting to despair that I'd live a lonely life up in my ivory tower." He laughs. "Come on, Ana. I've followed you all the way to Milan. What does that tell you?"

"It tells me that you were very adamant about my not working for Irina anymore. I also know you stayed away from me for seven months, Christian." I can't help it: the tears start to slide down my face. "That's a long time."

"You stayed away from me for seven months too. The phone works both ways, you know." The remembered hurt shades his eyes, darkening them.

"I texted you! I wrote you a long-winded message and got nothing back. Nada. Check your phone: it might still be on it."

He shakes his head. "No, every week my assistant clears the old messages and voice mail from the phone. It would be long gone." He kisses my temple. "Ana, I swear I never got that message. If I did, I would have immediately responded. I was… anxious… for some kind of contact from you. I felt it couldn't come from me after you told me never to contact you again—that would be harassment. Don't you see?"

"I guess. If I could just feel secure, Christian, but I can't. Every time I start to relax, start to think things are going okay, you pull away from me."

"Ana, I'm sorry. I'll try harder… Now stop crying. Let's just enjoy the evening together." His hand slides under my arm to caress my breast.

I reach up and stroke his face. Looking at him, seeing the man separate from his beauty and his importance—the man underneath the façade he presents to the world, the one who's afraid—I realize he is so dear to me. It would break my heart to have to say goodbye to him. I want him so much but more than that, I want him to want me so much too. I need it; my fragile ego demands it. I wonder if he has any inkling how much I adore him. The realization I had after my dream was so powerful that it scared me… because my love for him is so strong, it's made me weak. And that's never a good thing. But that's not right: love doesn't make you weak, does it? It should make you stronger.

I get up and put on some Billie Holiday and we lie in bed listening to her phenomenal voice. He's stroking my hair and I feel so safe within in his arms. I know he is the man I want to keep forever but am I the woman he wants in his life long-term? If only he would prove it to me somehow. But how?

He could tell me he loves me. That would help.

...

We're leaving to head over to Christian's parents' house and I'm feeling queasy: every time I go there I meet a woman who's after him and it's stressful. The elevator arrives and we step inside. I'm lost in my thoughts.

"Stop biting your lip or I will fuck you in the elevator and I don't care who gets in with us."

I gasp. That was unexpected… and totally hot. Looking up at him I see he's watching me with a sidelong glance. He has that air of dominance about him that he gets when he's in his dungeon and sometimes outside of it. It's his high-octane CEO demeanor and it turns me on big time. Tomorrow night he's taking me in there again, in the dungeon, and I'm super-nervous at the prospect… and excited too. Right now seeing him act all bossy is getting me antsy for more face time with dominant Christian. Dominant Christian is scary but incredibly sexy and I want, want, want him.

As soon as we walk inside the Greys' front hall, Carrick calls Christian into his office and I'm left to wonder what's going on.

Grace distracts me by gently grasping my arm. "Ana, dear, come inside and have a glass of wine."

"I'd love to."

After about fifteen minutes they emerge from the office and the evident relief on Christian's face suggests that he very recently escaped from the jaws of death. Now I really want to know what they talked about. Could it have anything to do with me?

Four hours later we leave the Greys' house and for a welcome change I did not have to tolerate ex-lovers of Christian. It was a fun evening with the Grey siblings ribbing each other, especially poor Zander who bore it all good-naturedly—despite the teasing it was plain to see how much they all cared about each other—and their parents watching with amusement. Once again it occurred to me how strange it was that Christian carried so much emotional baggage despite growing up in this picture-perfect American family.

...

"Ana! I've missed you."

I run up to Kent and launch myself at the poor guy. He's waiting for me with a giant bear hug. "I missed you, too. How was Hong Kong?"

"Crowded. Busy. Tiring. But very exciting. Jared wasn't able to meet me there—he was detained in Chicago—so I was by myself for most of the trip. One of my assistants joined me for the last three days. He'd been in Taipei. Come on. Let's get our table."

We make our way over to the side of the busy eatery where the hostess is seating diners. Kent smiles at the slim older woman. "Good afternoon, party of two, please."

"Of course. Right this way, Mr. Gable."

Everyone everywhere recognizes Kent. The kind of deference he gets would make many people arrogant but Kent is just as gracious and accessible as they come. There are so many reasons to love this guy that I can't even count them and I feel beyond lucky to call him a friend. My heart swells with affection for him as I follow the hostess to our table.

"So… how are things with you?" Kent asks once we are seated and looking at menus.

"Good. My boss is on his month-long yearly sabbatical so I'm off too. I only get paid for one week but that's okay since I just started," I giggle at the surprised expression on Kent's face. "And Christian and I are doing well. I've recently made the decision that I'm going to give it my all to make it work, Kent. I can't suffer another separation."

He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his own. "I hope that works for you. How's the husband?"

I grin. "Fine, thanks. I'm meeting Hans for coffee tomorrow, matter of fact."

Kent's phone chimes—he has Buddhist chants as his ringtone—and he looks down. "I'm sorry, Ana, I have to take this call. Will you excuse me?"

He returns five minutes later looking flustered. "Ana, I'm so sorry but I have to go. There's a major kerfuffle over the couture line and I need to resolve it before any more time is wasted. We're working under the gun, as per usual. Can we do this again tomorrow?"

God, I never knew how many emergencies there are in the fashion world but Kent is forever being pulled in every direction. I think he thrives on it, though. Since we've already ordered, I'm stuck here for the moment. I'll ask them to wrap up Kent's lunch and drop it off at his office on my way home. I want him to have a decent meal.

"Of course, Kent. Whenever is convenient for you I'm available."

"Thanks, Ana, for being so understanding. We need to spend some quality time together, you and I."

"Definitely. You're the busy one—you tell me where and when and I'll be there with a happy, shiny face."

He chuckles. "Consider it done. Now, lunch is on me. Since the food should be arriving any minute you can just sit back and have a relaxing meal… and maybe I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, for sure. Bye, Kent."

I stand to give him a kiss and hug as he takes his leave just as the hostess is leading a well-dressed couple past us to a table.

"Ana! Fancy meeting you here."

It's Grace and Carrick Grey looking every inch the successful and elegant middle-aged couple. Grace is wearing the most beautiful car coat I've ever seen or maybe it's just because she wears clothes so well being long and lean like her son… who oddly isn't actually related to her. Carrick is in an expensive suit and absolutely looks like an older version of his gorgeous son.

"Are you alone, dear?"

"My friend was just called away," I say lamely, knowing exactly where this is heading. The waiter chooses that exact moment to arrive with the meals.

"Would you be so kind as to wrap that entrée to go? My friend had to leave."

"Of course," the young waiter responds. He reminds me of someone but I can't put my finger on exactly who just now. Still standing, I turn back to the Greys.

"We'd love it if you could join us for lunch, Ana." She looks at my nearly vacant table, "Or perhaps more appropriately if we could join you?"

I have no real excuse to decline. There are three very empty chairs at my table now and my salad has just been served. Besides, it will give me another opportunity to learn more about Christian.

I gesture for them to join me and hope they don't see how nervous they make me. "Please, I'd love to share lunch with you. That is, if you don't mind, Mr. Grey?"

"Mind? I have the pleasure of having lunch with two beautiful women. What's to mind?"

Since the waiter is already here he asks if he might take their drink orders.

"Yes. You know what? I think we'll just order our lunch now as well. We'll both have the fennel and green bean salad with the soup du jour," Carrick says confidently. So the man ordering for the table runs in the family, I suppose. It's odd because Grace doesn't seem like the shy, retiring type but she merely smiles and nods her assent. I suppose in her life as an MD she is forced to make far too many important decisions to sweat the minor ones.

The blond waiter nods as he jots down the order. Hans. He reminds me of Hans in his coloring and something in the line of his jaw. He looks up at Carrick. "Anything to drink, sir?"

"We'll take two glasses of the pinot grigio with that," Carrick replies easily.

"Very good, sir. Madame." The waiter retreats with their orders and Grace smiles warmly at me. "How nice this is. How are you, Ana? You look well."

"I'm doing really great, thank you. I just saw Christian last night, by the way."

"Yes, he mentioned it when I spoke with him earlier. I'm glad you two are getting along nicely. You looked very happy together at dinner last weekend."

I feel the blood rush to my face. How familiar and personal is this lunch conversation going to get? I feel sort of trapped by the circumstances.

Grace leans in closer to me and says in a conspiratorial whisper, "Do you know how relieved we were when we met you? We were convinced Christian was gay."

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Carrick jumps in.

"Gay?" I repeat loudly—I'm just so shocked that my manners desert me. "Why? He has women throwing themselves at him at every turn."

"Well, yes, but he shows very little interest in them." She tilts her head, looking at me with a twinkle in her eye. "Or haven't you noticed?"

"I…" I hesitate. Speaking of such personal things with anyone but Christian gives me pause. But he won't speak of them so how will I learn anything more about him? I think I need to mine this rich vein and whatever other resources are available to me. Carrick and Grace happen to be an excellent one. Of course, they don't know about their son's sexual proclivities. At least I hope they don't.

I frame my next words carefully. "I've noticed that Christian sort of keeps all people at a remove… not just emotionally, but physically too. Is that my imagination or is it something you've noticed too?"

"It's not your imagination at all, Ana. Over the years he's learned to manage and even hide it very well." Carrick stops, peering into his water glass before taking a small sip. "Now and then, though, he slips up."

He looks up again. "Feeling helpless… well, it's not a good way to ever feel, Ana. I suppose with Christian everything stemmed from his lack of control as a small child and it grew from there. Obviously once he was distanced from his mother's ways, he was allowed some autonomy but the damage was imprinted on him at an age so impressionable it set the stage for his future, unfortunately.

Grace pipes in. "His mother, Catherine, was a very domineering woman. Her way of dealing with her depression and other psychological issues was to micromanage everything and everyone in her life rigidly, and that included her son—especially her son. A tiny child is easy prey. She didn't allow him any liberty whatsoever. She had his every day scheduled from the moment he opened his eyes to the moment he closed them again. It was as if he were living in the military, poor baby.

"His obsessive need for control in his life now is the way he copes with having had to submit to that kind of overbearing behavior during his formative years."

I cringe at the word submit as it has now come to mean other things to me. Clearing my throat, I try a different tack. "He appears to be somewhat… I don't know… claustrophobic, maybe."

"Not claustrophobia. He… well, if someone gets too close—either physically or emotionally—he'll back away. It's sort of a cross between different phobias—being around people, being touched, and being emotionally dependent. Fortunately, it's not extreme." She sighs, glancing at Carrick. "It's easier for him to control with people he knows well but even then it's a conscious decision he has to make to allow them physically near him. With strangers he has a harder time." She pauses, looking directly into my eyes. "Still, it used to be much worse. He's actually been conquering it more or less as he gets older."

Carrick smiles and says, "Funny story. He attended a fundraiser I was chairing one year. Also in attendance was another young man, a graduate student I was mentoring. Omani is Nigerian. Different cultures have different comfort levels in terms of proximity to others. What was comical was watching Christian and Omani have a conversation. It lasted about twenty minutes and they moved across the whole huge room of the event. It was almost like a dance. Omani would move closer to Christian and Christian would retreat the same."

For the rest of lunch, Grace and Carrick entertained me with stories of their children growing up and the funny things Christian did and got into as a boy. They asked about my childhood and parents. Afterward, I felt happy that I had the time to get to know them a little better, away from the crowds of their dinners and parties. I have to say I really like the Greys—for such important people, they're very down to earth. I think they like me too—I'm not sure if that will work in my favor or not. If they push Christian too hard toward me, he may find even more reason to retreat.

...

Feeling unsettled after the conversation with the Greys I go for a walk. The mild weather is gently seductive and I end up walking for hours. Something is itching at the fringes of my consciousness and I can't pull it into focus. What is bothering me? I finally have to shrug it off—it will come to me if I stop trying so hard. As I'm passing a liquor store, I duck inside to buy some wine and a small bottle of rum for watermelon mojitos.

That's when I realize what is nagging at me: hearing about Christian's issues from his parents felt underhanded to me, as if I were going behind his back to learn about things he wasn't willing to tell me. Plus, I want to hear it from his own lips, hear his explanations, rationale, and maybe even plans to resolve the problems. Everything that the Greys told me at lunch helped me understand Christian a little better but I wanted him to share his misgivings and fears with me, rather than getting it secondhand from his parents. So later that night, after dinner, I invite Christian over to the condo for a drink on the patio. Since I don't think he'd appreciate the fruity mojitos, I open a bottle of red and prepare a cheese and fruit platter.

He comes in looking tired and a little ruffled.

"What's the matter?"

"Ugh, one crappy day after the next lately. It can't always be roses, I suppose."

"Mmm, I guess. What's going on?"

He takes off his jacket, slinging it over a chair. "I don't want to bore you with the details, Ana. I'd rather talk about you, your day."

I push him into the leather club chair and get behind him to massage his shoulders. "I'll be glad to share but… please. Share with me too. What's stressing you out?"

He closes his eyes and sighs. "The lawsuit is going to be protracted. I was under the misconception that it would be a slam-dunk. We're having problems getting aid to the refugees stranded on a mountaintop and isolated from all resources. They're in desperate need of supplies and it's a logistical nightmare to get it to them. Any mistake will cost us lives. We're dealing with terrorists blocking them from any help—they aim to kill, not ask questions… and just a host of minor annoyances that continually barrage us, putting me into a lousy mood." He bends his head back to look up at me. "All right, I've shared. Your turn. What did you do today?"

"Oh, today? I had lunch with your parents." I smile as sweetly as I can while watching the shock register in his pretty light eyes.

"My parents. What do you mean?"

After explaining how the lunch came to be, I walk around to face him now. "I think I have a better understanding of what makes you tick, Christian… but help me understand further. I need to hear it from your lips. What is it about commitment in any form that terrifies you so much? What makes you retreat every time we grow close?"

His eyes reflect troubled waters inside his head. "In very simple terms, I suppose it's this sense of being helpless that's plagued me since childhood. Ergo, if I have feelings for someone, it gives that person power over me, Ana… thereby eroding my control over myself and my life." Looking at me with an expression of remorse, he adds, "Love makes a person weak… dependent on others. An oversimplification, no doubt, but the best explanation I can give you in layman's terms."

Interesting that I so very recently had the same thought. "Love does not make you weak, Christian. It's the contrary—it makes you stronger. Trusting another person enough to love you takes courage, not weakness. You just need the wisdom to know who to choose."

He just stares at me, saying not a syllable but his eyes are gleaming. After a long minute elapses, he smiles sweetly. "C'mere, you." His strong arm slides around my waist and he pulls me to his lap, leaving me no choice but to straddle his legs. He puts his wine glass on the adjacent table and wraps his other arm around my waist too. Now he has me captive.

"You are a very insightful young woman, Ana. Did you know that?"

I smile slightly and shrug.

"I know two things for certain, Christian. Thing is, I'm not gonna share them with you just yet. When the time is right... or you say the right words to me, then I'll tell you about those two things. For now, let's just enjoy one another's company and the exceptional breeze coming in from the open window." I angle my head to look at him. "It's the little things..."

Lowering his head, his lips softly graze mine, his tongue exploring my lips gently until I open to him and return the attention. Before long the kiss becomes deep and intoxicating until both of us forget everything but this kiss, our body heat, the feel of our skin touching, his silky, thick hair between my fingers, our increasingly labored breathing...

...

The next day I go shopping for new shoes, one of my all-time favorite things to do. When I get back to the condo, there are a slew of messages on our voicemail for the house phone. Several of them are from Hans and I realize I never gave him my cell number. That may have been a good idea but I need to deal with him so I call him back.

"Ana! Why did it take you so long to return my calls? I've been worried about you."

"I'm sorry, Hans. I've just been busy. What's up?"

"Are we still on to get together? I want to talk to you about… things."

So according to plan, we meet up for coffee. Hans is already there at the table, sitting quietly with two large lattes steaming in front of him. I rush over and give him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Hey."

He looks up and then scans my outfit. I'm dressed in my work clothes—navy blue tailored suit—my nod to corporate culture—but the skirt is short and tight. I have heels on with nude silk stockings. I feel kind of self-conscious but Hans is giving me a most appreciate look so it makes me feel a little more confident.

Is this for me?" I ask, gesturing to the latte.

He makes a show of looking all around. "I suppose so. I don't see anyone else about."

I take a sip. Mmm. "That's perfect, Hans. Thanks. How much do I owe you?"

"I can't buy my wife a coffee?"

I roll my eyes—he always does that to me, says things that make me super uncomfortable. "So… what's up? I suppose you know the divorce papers should be ready soon?"

He nods. "Yes and I'm ready… first I wanted to clean the air with you, Ana. You know, lighten my chest."

I can't help but giggle at his mangling of the expressions.

"What?" he asks defensively.

"It's clear the air. And get things off your chest."

"Oh, well. You understood me, right, Ana?"

I nod. "You're cute, Hans. So tell me, what do you need to get off your chest?"

He looks at me for a long minute. "I'm not sure how to explain such things." He takes a sip of his coffee and then reaches over to lightly touch my hand. "You are special to me, Ana. I think it would have been good between us."

I say nothing because I have nothing to say. I stir my coffee, waiting for him to continue.

"So... these people I met and became involved so fast with were very bad apples. Very stupid, I borrowed money from them when I was not having much luck and they wanted it back with very big amounts of interest. I had no money to give them; my mother and sister gave me all the dollars they could put together but it was only a small total of my debt." He shakes his head sadly.

"So..." he says with emphasis, "as part of this kind of arrangement, they called it, they asked me for personal um... data... on all the people I knew with importance on Americans. They told me my life and my family's lives will be in danger if I gave any warning to my people on my list. I believed it was all about stealing identification and maybe stealing credit cards. I wasn't too upset right away. I know it can be a little bit bad but if you catch it quick, it doesn't do too much. I did not know what they actually, um... you know, what their plan was. I didn't learn it until your attorney called me about the annulment and told me some of the things... what happened.

"I'm so sorry, Ana. True. I hope you know my mother and my sister, they didn't know how I involved you and other friends. I was afraid they were going to hurt or kill my mother or my sister. I tried to pick out only certain names to give but I didn't have that many and they were... well, not happy. I finally had to take my mother's address book and hand it over. I suppose that's how they got your name and call information."

I don't know what to say. I can see how the whole thing went down but it was still shitty of him to do, especially considering he should never have borrowed money from them to begin with. Obviously they were some kind of loan sharks.

But sitting across from Hans and seeing him look so ashamed stokes affection in my heart for him. I was in love with him as a teenager and right at the moment I can totally see why. He's a sweet man who doesn't always display good judgment but often sound judgment and penis owner are mutually exclusive… or so I've found. I feel sad that we never got to explore our relationship any further and decide to forgive him. After all, I wasn't really injured and I would never have met Christian or Kent if not for the whole debacle. If anything, I should be thanking Hans.

"It's okay, Hans. I forgive you."

His whole face lights up at my words. "You do? Oh Ana, thank you, sweetheart. That means so much of a lot to me."

I smile at his idiom mutilation. Life could certainly be fun with Hans around, I will admit. But Christian would never go for that. Never.

My jacket pocket starts vibrating and I pull out my phone to see Christian is calling. It's weird how often that happens, when I think of him and out of the blue he'll call me. I want to pick it up but I don't really want to tell him I'm with Hans. It will just get him all stressed and nobody wants that. Still, if I don't answer, I'll never hear the end of it. I push the button.

"Hey. What's up?"

"Where are you?"'

"Uh, out shopping. I just stopped for a coffee… what are you doing?"

"Working, what else? Are you alone?"

How does he always know? It's like he smells trouble. I turn my face away so Hans can't hear me all that well. "Don't get upset now. I'm with Hans. I had to talk to him about the divorce papers."

"Ana, what's there to talk about? All you need to do is sign your name by the fucking yellow x and it will be done."

"Please stop. He's explaining to me the whole thing. You know, why those con men came after me. We'll be done here soon and then I'll head home. Promise."

"You had better. Text me when you get home and maybe I'll cut out early and drop in for a visit. I need to squeeze you—some parts more than others."

When I hear him a mental image pops into my head and I get hot and bothered almost instantly. I want to get home now in a hurry so I can do him. "I'll be home really soon. You'd better come through."

"Come through what?"

"Stop it. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Okay, baby. See you."

Damn I didn't want to use the L word anymore. Not until he started saying it back. I'm trying not to let it bother me because I do believe he has feelings for me. I'm just not sure they constitute love and that makes me deeply sad.