"He's a nut sucker. A damn cockamamie nut sucker with shit for brains, vision for shit, and shit for ideas." Devin puffs around the paint store, one hand waving around has he picks up random chips of color, ranting about the new designer we just met with not an hour ago. "Chartreuse. Who the fuck uses chartreuse in a kitchen? Kermit, that's who. Nobody paints their kitchen green unless they're a frog and you, Ana, are not a frog."
"Devin, it was merely a suggestion," I begin but he turns, stomps his foot and throws his hands up in my face.
"Chartreuse, Anastasia Rose Grey! The man wants to use that nasty ass color as your template for the most important room in your house. A house, may I remind you, that is going to cost you well over seventeen million when all is said and done. Probably more since your old ball and chain is having that twelve foot perimeter fence put in which I guess is better than the mote with alligators and sea serpents Elliot expected but I digress."
He turns, adjusts the pink scarf around his neck and takes my face in his. "Imagine your life. You invite a few of your husbands business associates over for dinner, they're bigwigs because, well, who else would you bother to invite over. So you've had your staff make a dinner to kill for, you've donned an Oscar de la Renta gown with a peep-toe heel in champagne and you have your face airbrushed on by a professional. The kids are with the nanny, there's a four piece string quartet playing in the foyer." He steps back and imitates how this supposed dinner is going to go down. "The house is lovely, Mrs. Grey...so beautiful, Mrs. Grey...who was your designer, Mrs. Grey...can we have a tour, Mrs. Grey? So you acquiesce because you're sweet like that and all is going well until BAM! They walk into a fucking electric green fucking kitchen with fucking black enamel accents. What. The. Fuck?"
"Devin," he turns and raises one brow. "I'm not going with chartreuse so chill out."
"Oh. Well, good. But the bigger problem is the designer. He wore a navy pea coat with black wingtips and has a perm."
"Lots of people have perms."
"Women you mean. Lots of women. For Cher's sake, the only male allowed to perm is a poodle. Ditch him and ditch him now or I'm going to have a coronary right here in the paint store of all places."
For a few seconds I just watch him fan himself and pretend to clutch at his heart, doing my best not to give in and laugh about it. But I know better. Something's going on.
"Dev, are you still hung up on that kid at the orphanage? Is that what this misplaced aggression is about?" And just like that the wind rushes out of his lungs and he deflates into a much more sedated version of himself.
"Timothy. And yes. Casey and I are moving back the wedding so that we can petition for adoption but the fact of the matter is that for a gay couple to adopt from a foreign country is nearly impossible and for us to adopt from Liberia is actually impossible."
"Christian said he was meeting with the Governor on Friday to discuss the moratorium on Liberian adoptions. Maybe it won't be impossible for long."
Surprisingly he and Casey got engaged the same night as Kate and Elliot which means I now have two bridezillas, or they will be once they start making plans. But as it is it's almost Thanksgiving and neither of them has yet to do anything about picking a date or a place. Kate jokes and says she's waiting to use our house on the Sound in the summer but Devin is hesitant for an entirely different reason. When he takes my hand and pulls me to the car, Sawyer dutifully following behind in his SUV, I let him drive.
"I'm not marrying Casey until the moratorium is lifted and it's clear that Liberia will allow a gay couple to adopt. I'm not taking the chance that they'd refuse us on the grounds that I'm a man who likes men."
"That could be years, Devin!"
"Then I'll wait years. Casey agrees even though he's never met Timothy other than the pictures and video's I have." He cuts me a look and smiles softly, "He called me DeDe the last day I was there."
"You haven't talked much about the trip," I say questioningly. Normally I'd have the full run down from the food he ate to the sights he saw to the personality quirks of everyone he worked with but he's been strangely silent for over a month now.
"It was life changing. I had a great time with the Fredericks and with Jomodo, we need to find him a woman by the way, now there's a man who needs someone to dress him in the morning. And it was rewarding working with the kids at the orphanage. Not dealing with the American way of bureaucratic red tape was refreshing and invigorating I'll tell you that much. Between myself and Hemwatee we started two mental health protocols and I was able to teach the basics of counselling to the volunteers there without having to jump through hoops first. But that Timothy, Ana." He stops and sucks in a shuddering breath. "That baby stole my heart, sugar. Just waddled up to me in a diaper, reached up and tugged on my pants and somehow got a good grip on my soul in the process. I swear if he wasn't on my hip for more than five minutes I felt withdrawal. And the way he'd let me rock him to sleep and snuggle with him, one pudgy little hand tucked under my chin while the other rested over my heart...that baby is mine."
"Oh Devin," is all I can say before I start crying, my nose running in the cold November air he insists on letting in the car windows. Helps kill the germs, he says. "You told Christian all of this?"
"Sure did. I landed and went right to his office in the sky with the names of the people he'd need to contact at the Ad-hoc adoption agency in Liberia and the people at the US Embassy there who could help. He put in a few calls while I sat there blubbering over the pictures I'd taken and then told me he'd have to start at the ground floor which meant reaching out to our governor and making a trip over there himself in the near future to knock some heads together."
"God I love that man."
"You should," he puffs out. "That heart of his is worth more than every penny he's ever made."
He drops me off at the house still under construction and waits until Elliot comes out to get me despite the fact that Sawyer is standing right outside my car door. When all the men in my life decided that I was unable of taking care of myself I don't know but frankly it's starting to irritate me.
"Sister in law! Matron of Honor! Saint of Clan Grey, come on in and give me your opinion on the second floor bedrooms before I have the guys start taping and painting."
Elliot, dressed in a flannel and dirty jeans along with his construction helmet and work boots is definitely appealing but just as I'm about to text Kate a picture of his butt he lets one rip and then shakes his leg like a dog.
"Sorry, sometimes they get stuck."
And even though we're both adults and I'm doing a walk through of my multi-million dollar home I burst out in a fit of giggles that has me gasping in sawdust. At the top of the stairs he turns left towards what will be guest rooms. When he opens the door to a room the size of the average bedroom with nothing but shelving and drawers built into the wall I turn and begin to ask what this is but he's prepared to field any question I may have.
"A linen storage room. Everything is cedar lined and the lighting in here will be LED so the fabrics won't be compromised."
"A linen room?"
"Yup," he grins, rocking back on his heels as he obviously enjoys my disbelief. "You now have an entire room dedicated to nothing but fabrics and an ironing board. Come on, lots more frivolous rooms to see." Three more times he walks me into rooms that are going to be for visitors, finally opening the fourth guest room door so that I can enter the enormous room. "This is the final guest room on this floor. I'm thinking this will be for the in-laws when they come over since it's the biggest and the furthest from your room. I can't imagine how many times my brother has you bumping uglies but since I plan on being here often, I was thinking of claiming this room as mine."
"Sure," I laugh, somewhat surprised with how comfortable I'm getting with talking about sex. "Why is that part of the floor all cut up?"
"Fireplace. That's where the hearth will go. I've got the masons coming on Monday to start on the big one in the main room and the one in the kitchen but this one and the one in your room will be next. You sure four is enough? Because you just never know when the heat will go out and the industrial grade generators Christian's had installed won't work. You could power an airport with those bad boys. Wanna see them?"
"Not really," I shrug. "That's definitely a man thing."
"True. Let me show you your room and the rooms you've set aside for the kids and then we'll go to the more girly parts of the house."
It's strange to build bedrooms for children that don't exist but we're doing it anyway. I know that for Christian this is tangible proof that one day he'll get his dream family but I just feel weird talking about window seats and built in bookshelves for kids that I haven't birthed yet. Our room is so big I have to raise my voice for Elliot to hear me when we're at opposite ends but I do like the way he and the architect have worked together to section the room so that it feels homey and not empty. There is, of course, a book nook where I can visualize overstuffed chairs and cashmere throws along with me and a cup of coffee with the sunlight streaming in on a lazy Sunday morning.
Along the far left wall is the framing of what looks to be three closets and as far as Elliot knows, that's exactly what it is but I know better. When Christian and I designed this room three weeks ago, right after our trip to China, we both decided that yes, we did in fact want a playroom here. Our intention is to retain Escala and use it as a place to crash after late night work functions or just as a place to get away from everyone if we so choose but we also decided that once I had a child, the playroom had to go. Not because there was shame in it but because there was too great of a possibility of a little one finding that room and there was just no way either of us was willing to risk it.
Personally I think the reason is a bit more simple for Christian. He hates the fact that he's had other women in that room and loathes the reminder of his previous life. At this point there's not much kink and hardly any red room which for now is fine, Lord knows both of us are happy enough with plain old sex right now anyway. But if we're both honest, we do want a playroom. So he'll have his closet and I'll have mine and in the middle of the two will be a hidden room where we'll unleash all the kink we want upon the world.
"Here's my main question for you." In the bathroom Elliot lays out where the Jacuzzi tub will be along with the oversized stone shower. "The mason is putting in a bench seat in that corner and another against the back wall but if we do that, the space is limited to less than twelve square feet of floor space. Now, to you and me that's plenty but to my brother, that's like showering in a closet. So I was hoping you'd approve and move the shower to the far right of the bathroom so that we could maintain the floor space at twenty square feet and still have the benches you want."
"Fine." Because, what do I care really? This whole thing is so freaking bizarre to me I can't wrap my head around it. I've been married for less than two months and in that time I've been to New Zealand, the Maldives, and China, my two best friends have gotten engaged and I'm in charge of picking out everything for my new super expensive home. Forget the fact that Christian bought me a diamond bracelet worth almost three hundred thousand as a thank you for my participation in the Chinese negotiations.
Elliot jots something down on his clip board and mumbles about getting the plumber out today but I'm not really listening because I'm still stuck on the fact that my shower is as big as my old kitchen. "Great...if all my clients were like you I'd be a lot less stressed. OK, so the floors are of course all radiant heat throughout so no worries about cold feet on these cold Washington nights. Oh, I forgot to mention that the guest room bathrooms would also have radiant heat but I guess you expected that anyway."
I nod and bite my lip in an effort to squelch the rising panic having this kind of wealth throws on me. Yesterday I had to get my previous tax returns and all of my financial documents to our attorneys so that they could start figuring out which tax shelters were the most beneficial now that Christian was married. I had the opportunity to flip through last years return for him and while I knew he was rich. Like, stinking filthy rich, I don't think I had any comprehension as to just how much he owned. Pages and pages and pages of assets listed from investments, off shore accounts, mutual funds, municipal bonds, stocks, jewelry, artwork, music catalogs...the list was endless. And that was just his personal assets. Grey Enterprise Holdings holds the note to hundreds of lucrative and growing businesses and real estate all over the world. Just today I drove by a small shopping plaza and for the first time noticed the name on the lease sign in one of the windows.
Grey Real Estate Holdings. Took me a minute to recognize the fact that I'm part of the Grey in Grey Real Estate Holdings.
"And this is the panic room. Christian and the architect thought it would be best to have it near the family bedrooms. Along that back wall we're going to put in a stairwell that will lead you down into the actual panic room but this is an alternative entrance should you ever need it when you're upstairs."
"He told me about this," I whisper as I circle through the small and fortified space. The walls are lined in what looks like sheet metal but I know this is just the beginning of what Christian has planned as far as safety goes. Elliot must sense my fear because he grabs my hand and pulls me out into the hall, shutting the door behind him and leading the way downstairs.
"Those rooms are pretty standard for the wealthy, Ana. Don't let your head run with ideas. I've built nine houses this year and every one of them had a panic room complete with entertainment center, food storage and independent air and water filtration. It's common in houses like this so relax."
"But there really are people who want to hurt me and kill Christian."
"Yes, and that's why you have security on you 24/7/365. Even while you sleep you have people watching over you and technology that is so cutting edge our own government doesn't have it yet." He dismisses his workers from the kitchen where they were installing the Cambria countertops. Christian nearly had a stroke when Elliot and I showed him that what we wanted was eco-friendly and sustainable and not the most expensive thing on the market. He'd gone on and on for ten minutes about granite and marble and Italian mines that were almost depleted and blah blah blah but in the end we talked him into the Cambria. It may have had something to do with me letting the strap of my tank top slip over my shoulder and the insinuation that Elliot should go home so we could work this out alone but I'll never know since he turned to his brother and barked at him to just do whatever it was I wanted and to get the hell out of the apartment. The rest, as they say, is history.
"Gail is going to shit a brick when she sees this kitchen. The pantry alone is the size of the kitchen at Escala but I put shelving in there so that she can store her electronic gadgets and diggerydoos easily instead of pulling them out of cabinets every time she wants something. The sink is soapstone like we talked about and I had Viking and Subzero come up with a steel that mimics the color so that the integrity of the pallet is maintained."
"Elliot?"
"I know. I totally geek out to this stuff. I'm pretty sure that's what Kate was drawn to when she interviewed me. But I really did pay attention in design classes even if I was only there because the teacher was smoking hot and let me hit it a few times." He laughs at my reaction and turns towards the door. "Kidding! She was a million years old and wore clogs."
"So you're on board with everything going on over there?" Christian says as he tightens the knot of his tie. I'm watching him get ready for his day which will end with his first business dinner since we've been back from our honeymoon that I've not been invited to. Well, technically it's just he and two men and my company would be awkward but still, to separate from him still sucks especially when we've both been working so much.
"I am. I like what he did with the gym."
"You mean how he added the Pilates studio to the sparring room?" He grins and turns down his collar, reaching for the suit jacket I've got in my hands. "That was my idea, baby. After what I saw the other night I don't plan on missing any of your classes but hell if I can bend that way so I'll spar, you bend and then we'll fuck. Speaking of fucking, it's been almost 36 hours, Ana. That's 35 hours too long in my book so when I get home, plan to be ravaged, Mrs. Grey."
"I shall await your return, Sir." At that he smirks and fixes his cufflinks before giving me a surprisingly chaste kiss on his way out the door.
After having my picture taken while getting my morning latte at Starbucks and then ignoring the repeated cat calls of the paparazzi asking about how I feel to be married to Christian Grey, I walk into my office looking for a respite. Which I do not get because on the couch in the foyer is Eliza crying on Matt's shoulder about something to do with Barney. He gives me a look that is nothing but a plea for help and then pats her back, standing with her to walk her to my office.
"I'm just going to go...get her some tea. Maybe a scone. Do you want a scone, Eliza? A donut? A muffin?" Matt breaks into a sweat, clearly desperate to get out of the room and flee the presence of a hysterical woman. Missy walks in and takes one look at what's going on before turning on her heel and running out behind him.
"I'm a Rhodes Scholar," she wails, "did you know that? Did you know I'm a bonafide genius? I play Trivial Pursuit and I win every time. I can sit down with any number sequence and determine the pattern and solution. I can speak nine, NINE languages fluently and play seven, SEVEN instruments at a professional level. I was first chair in the Washington Youth Orchestra for both the French horn and the clarinet. I got a full scholarship to eleven, ELEVEN Ivy League colleges. I'm smarter than anyone I know." Her nose is running, her eyes are bloodshot and her hands have wrung the bottom of her shirt so severely it's ruined.
"OK, those are all things to be proud of but it doesn't explain why you're falling apart at the seams on me."
"I'm late for my period and my breasts hurt so much I can't walk down the stairs." My eyes open a bit wider before I catch myself and corral my reaction into something that won't freak her out more.
"Have you taken a test?"
"Barney...he moved in and if he knew...I said I'd take care of birth control and I thought I did but...I missed a pill two weeks ago during the move and I didn't tell him because..." she continues to babble on and on all while snorting and blowing her nose into a handkerchief of all things. 23 years I went before seeing one of those things and now I'm surrounded by them.
"Wait," Missy storms in and slams the door behind her for emphasis. "You haven't taken a test yet?" Eliza shakes her head. "How late are you?"
"Four days. But I'm never late. Never!"
Missy waves her hand dismissively and plops down on the couch across from where we're sitting. "You're in the concern but not panic zone. Four days is nothing. I once was nine days late with an ex-boyfriend."
"And were you pregnant?" Eliza gulps.
"Do you see a kid anywhere?" Missy snorts back. "I wasn't pregnant, I was stressed. And if you and Barney aren't able to talk about this as a possibility, then you're not ready to be having sex to begin with, E."
"We did talk about it which is why I went on the pill," she retorts defensively.
"You need to take a test before you freak yourself out," I interject. This is so not the time for a lesson or an argument.
For a minute we all just sit there before Missy smacks her hands on the armrest as she pulls herself up and makes her way to the door. "Be right back, there's a CVS two blocks from here."
Eliza says nothing while we wait but nods appreciatively at Matt who has come back with three teas and a box of pastries.
"I overheard," he shrugs. "Figured you could use food either way." He nods a few times and then claps his hands together. "I'm out of here. Ana, if it's cool with you I'll work from home today. The twins aren't feeling well and I know my wife could use the help." Another nod and then, "Good luck, E."
Missy breezes in and throws a bag of Reece's at me and three different tests to Eliza. "I didn't know which one to get and frankly, we'll want confirmation either way so here you go. Now go pee, we'll wait here." Once she's shut the door to the bathroom we both look at each other and shiver. "Better her than me. I would freak the fuck out if I was pregnant right now."
"Me too," is my whispered response. "Do you think she is?"
"How the hell would I know? I mean, they do have sex like, all the freaking time. I swear to God I heard her on the phone a few weeks ago tell him that three times a day was enough but he was negotiating with her to up it to four." Both of us stop talking when we hear the bathroom door swing open.
"OK, we have to wait three to five minutes now." Eliza begins to pace along the wall of windows, biting her nails and crying while muttering about how smart she is, how she graduated top of her class since preschool, how she's never been to Russia and now she'll never go, basically about anything and everything she can think of.
"I think we're watching a nervous breakdown here, Ana," Missy whispers, unwrapping her Snickers bar without taking her eyes off of the muttering mad woman behind me. "For someone so smart she really looks pretty stupid talking to herself like that." We watch a few more minutes and then my phone timer beeps.
"It's been five minutes, E, you ready? Do you want me and Ana to look or do you want to go by yourself?"
Eliza falls to her knees and begins to sob uncontrollably. At this point I'm getting irritated at her over the top behavior over something that hasn't even happened yet.
"You go. Both of you. I can't."
I walk in first and look down at the three tests lying on the counter. One has a single line, one has nothing and one says 'Not Pregnant' in the window. "What does the blank one and the single line mean?" I hiss to keep my voice down. Missy reads through the literature quickly and tosses the pamphlet in the trash.
"It means the bitch is overreacting and needs to chill the fuck out." We both leave the bathroom and walk up to where Eliza has seated herself on the floor. "Negative. You're not knocked up, you're just late. And you're off the charts dramatic. If getting pregnant can cause you such tremendous fear like this, then you need to practice abstinence because this," she points up and down, "is not ok. I get that the two of you were virgins up until a few months ago but one of the risks of sex is pregnancy so if you aren't able to handle the risks, and you're clearly not, then you shouldn't be engaging in risky behavior." And with that Missy walks out so that I'm left alone with a shaking woman who is now clutching pee sticks to her chest as if they were the answer to all her troubles.
CPOV
"Legally, it's not an option for me to send someone else. I have to go."
"And you don't want to," Flynn states as a matter of fact. Which it is.
"No, John. For some strange reason I have no desire to go back to the very city in which I was abused, neglected, abandoned and despised." He is not amused.
"Sarcasm is for people who have no wit."
"Or lack the patience to suffer fools."
He grins and raises one shoulder. "That was witty." He adjusts the pillow behind him and makes a face as if he's in pain.
"What did you do to your back?"
"Pickup rugby game with my buddies back in Ironbridge." Fuck, I forgot his mom passed away while we were in China.
"My condolences, John. Ana and I were sorry to learn about your mother's passing."
"Thank you. Please thank her for the lovely flowers and the case of wine she sent to the house. Rhiann and I appreciated the gesture." Flowers and wine? He grimaces again and opens a page on his tablet that has my name and patient number in the corner. "I see my mates and forget we're not in university anymore. I'll tell you what though, I'm remembering just how old I am now that's for sure."
"Ana gets massages, maybe you should try that."
"Have you received a massage yet, Christian?" I laugh because typical Flynn, he steers the conversation right back to a therapy topic.
"I have from my wife even though at the time she was my girlfriend but yes, I've been able to tolerate that."
"Tolerate? Did you not enjoy it?"
"I did. Immensely actually."
"So why not try it with a licensed professional? If you're ready to tackle your haphephobia that would be a good place to start."
"John," I say, throwing my head back with a suppressed laugh, "Ana was naked and used sex as an incentive. There is no way in hell I'm ready to let anyone else touch me."
"I saw your brother pat your back at your wedding and your mother had her hand between your shoulders when you danced."
"They're not intentionally rubbing me. And they're family, that's a far cry from some stranger with a bottle of oil and some bad jazz music playing."
"So have Ana there with you. Do a couples massage and tell them not to focus on your back but that a quick manipulation of your spine is tolerable. Start small."
"No."
"Fine," he shrugs, his face contorting with the sudden movement. "We'll deal with this trip to Detroit first and then we'll tackle your phobia. You're so open to change right now and so determined to work on other issues that I feel an urgency to grab every issue and throttle it until you've conquered it."
"I am doing pretty well, huh?" Shit am I blushing?
"Remarkably well. Let's come up with some coping mechanisms for your upcoming trip that don't include sex."
At that I do laugh because by sex he means Ana. "She's coming with me. There is zero chance of me going to that state and not bringing her. Zero. We'll fly in that morning, sign the documents in front of a notary, meet the board of directors and be gone by noon."
"Why? Why not seize this opportunity to put another nail in the coffin of your past? You're in the best head space I've ever seen you in, you've gotten rid of all the toxic people in your life, you've got a good network of friends, an honest relationship with our family and a wife that will do anything for you."
"I wouldn't even know where to start, John and frankly, I don't give a shit about the place."
"You have no interest whatsoever in the place that you were born? No interest in what your life was like? You've never wondered if your mother has a headstone or if she has any other family?"
"My mother is not dead, my birth mother is, and Ella McIntyre had no family, that much I know. Her mother died the same year I was born, her father died the year after and she was an only child. My father was one of her many customers and even if I could track him down I wouldn't. And no, I have no interest in seeing what my life could have been life had Grace and Carrick not had rescued me. I have to go so what I need from you isn't a list of tourist places but a way to be there without freaking the fuck out."
"You're afraid." Again, a statement. I'm beginning to get frustrated and he knows it because he's shut off the tablet and is doing that thing where he steeples his fingers when he's trying to regain control of the conversation. "What, exactly, are you afraid of?"
"Remembering. I get snippets here and there. They used to be constantly playing on a loop every time I'd close my eyes to sleep but that's not an issue anymore. I gotta say, John, it's been nice not seeing that fuckers face every time I go to bed."
"Do you fear running into your abuser?"
"Haven't thought about that to be honest but the truth is, he was a hard core drug addict living in the ghetto. He's more than likely dead by now, a point which I admit makes me very happy. Had I known his name I'd confirm it but I don't and there's about a zero chance in fuck of me trying to remember it." Just then my Google alert goes off as does the ringer on my phone. "Yes?" I bark into the receiver since I already know it's Andrea.
"I have Debra from PR on the line for you, Mr. Grey." Less than one second later my director of public relations is excitedly yapping in my ear about a pregnancy test and pictures and chocolates.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Melissa Stamper from your wife's office was photographed leaving the building and walking to a local pharmacy where she purchased three pregnancy tests and your wife's favorite candy with a Steele Translations credit card. She then went back to the building in which your wife's company is located after flipping off the paparazzi that followed her there. TMZ just ran a piece on it along with a picture of Mrs. Grey ordering a coffee this morning while pressing a hand to her stomach." As she's talking I'm flipping through my alert and sure as shit there's a picture of Ana looking hot as hell in a black and white dress.
"What's an asymmetrical dress?" I interrupt.
"Sir?"
"They're making a big deal about her dress being asymmetrical. What does that mean?"
"It's a dress with no recognizable pattern. The insinuation is that she's using that to cover up a baby bump. The headline reads, 'Decaf for Billionaire Baby Grey?' and then goes on to"
"Yes, Ms. Borden, I'm reading the same article. For now don't comment on this but for the record, we are not pregnant."
"Yes, Sir. I'll get on that non-comment right away."
"Flynn," I say, standing and reaching down to shake his hand so that he doesn't have to get up. "I need to take care of this. If you need some muscle relaxers, call my mother. I'll let her know you may reach out."
When the door opens Taylor is already there and waiting with the keys to the Audi. He doesn't say anything because outside of this being a hot button topic for me, men don't talk about this shit. Instead he puts on NPR and weaves through Seattles mid-day traffic, stopping only when we've maneuvered ourselves to the back and private entrance of Elliot's building. I hear him alert Sawyer of my impending arrival before the elevator doors close and as I expect he's waiting in the foyer.
"What's going on?"
Sawyer looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. The man can face down the barrel of a gun in a war zone for four straight years but the thought of talking about a woman and a baby has him all clamped up.
"When we arrived this morning Ms. Ferrai was hysterical on the couch. Mrs. Grey took her into her office and I've not seen either of them since, Sir."
"Eliza!?" I will throw the fit of a lifetime if Barney becomes a dad before me. Other than the violation of our privacy I wasn't even upset before but now I'm pissed. Barney? Barney?
Out of the corner of my eye I see Missy walking out of her office and hear the elevator behind me ding, Logan stepping out in work boots and a bright orange vest. She sees us both but walks to him, waving her hands as if to say no.
"It wasn't for me. I promise, Logan."
"Fuck, Mis! This would be one fucked up way to tell me. I got my mom and my brother calling all pissed off at finding out this way. I mean, shit, I didn't even know what the hell they were talking about and then mom sent me the article and fuck, I thought my legs were going to collapse."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry about all of this, I wasn't thinking about paparazzi and shit like that. But no worries, I'm not pregnant. God no." I leave them to their little love fest, Logan all but falling to the floor with relief and go find Ana who is in her office calling me.
"Christian!" I see the absolute panic on her face and sadly realize that she's anticipating an argument but years of reading people has made it clear to me that pushing her to give me what I want is only going to delay me in getting it.
"I know it wasn't for us, Ana." My arms go around her shoulders and draw her in with a kiss to her forehead.
"I didn't think they'd follow Missy! I didn't even think about it at all. I walked in and Eliza was crying and we needed to help her and it caught all of us off guard and,"
"Ana!" a male voice interrupts from the doorway.
"Barney, hi...Eliza just went down to the cafeteria for a sandwich..."
"Was the test for her? Grey," he says as if I'm an after thought. "Was it? She thinks I don't know her cycle but hello, genius here." He points to himself and begins to pace, pulling at his hair. I feel like I'm in some sort of really bad reality show. "I mean, I know the symptoms and I'm not gonna lie, she's been a bit overly emotional lately and then yesterday she yelled at me because I left the remote to the TV on the coffee table instead of the remote basket. I mean, who freaks out over that?"
"Barney!" Eliza walks in and starts to cry. How the hell did I end up in the middle of this? But like a train wreck, I just can't walk away.
"Are you?" is all he says, his skinny shoulders shaking as he grabs her face and looks straight at her. Her mouth gapes open and shut but he interrupts her. "Eliza, we'll figure it out. We'll make it work. I'm here no matter what." Despite his tie, dotted with miniature turkey's, and his super tight khaki pants I see him as a grown man for the very first time.
"No, I'm not, we're not, no." His arms fall to his side and he exhales a huge sigh just as Logan and Missy walk in.
"Thank Christ for that! Holy shit I almost crapped my pants."
At that Logan laughs, breaking the ice and making his presence known. Barney takes a few breaths and hugs Eliza who is giddy with laughter and then turns to me. "Mr. Grey, forgive me for leaving the office but I had to know."
"I understand," I say, my palm up and at a loss as to what else to say in a situation like this. Actually, I know exactly what to say but 'Dickface, wrap up your dick if you don't want a baby' seems inappropriate at the moment. Ana looks a bit flustered and when I see the still unopened yogurt cup on her desk that I'm sure is her pathetic excuse for lunch I figure the only way to get her to eat the way she should eat is if I'm with her. "I'm famished. Anyone up for lunch at Le Pichet?" Ana's face lights up, her tiny hands clapping together with joy. Just that response alone is worth skipping my lunch meeting.
"Really? You don't have to hurry back or anything?"
"Not anymore. Andrea pushed back my meeting with Duracell and I'm in the mood for some steak frites. Are you free, baby?"
"I'll make myself free!" She grabs her purse and Missy's arm and then motions for me to follow.
"Sounds kinda fancy. Can I go in this?" Logan asks me in the elevator. The real answer is no, him showing up to a five star French restaurant in the clothes he wears to work is not appropriate but the flip side of that is that he's showing up with me. So even if he were naked he'd be welcomed in and treated like royalty.
"Yes. We'll be in a private room anyway, I'll call my assistant to ensure it." And just as I knew would happen, when we walk in nobody bats an eye at his construction clothes or the fact that Barney and Eliza are literally hanging on each other like wet blankets.
It occurs to me as we sit at the round table, crisp white linens and sterling silver utensils gleaming in the sunlight, that in all my years of working with Barney, I've never once had a meal with him. Why this all of the sudden seems strange I don't quite understand. I listen, an outsider to the personal conversations going on around the table and realize, as he tells a story about his older sister, that I didn't even know he had an older sister. It makes me feel a bit stupid that other than Ana, he knows more about my personal life than anyone yet I know virtually nothing about his.
"I was thinking about starting an annual company retreat," I interject when things quiet down and our food arrives. "Maybe up at Whistler Mountain or someplace similar. A long ski weekend or something like that." Everyone but Logan stops chewing and looks at me as if I just grew a second head.
"Like a conference?" Ana asks.
"No, more like a trip. Team building, whatever it's called. I'll talk to our logistics department and see what they say. We'd have to rent out the entire resort and hire temps to cover phones while we're gone but our turnover rate is practically nil and dedication like that should be rewarded. Not to mention the fact that I've only ever really met GEH's upper management."
Nobody says anything for a few long seconds, they probably think I've lost my mind but the truth is I've been toying with the idea for awhile now. I'm not looking to get to know anybody but it would be beneficial for me to at least have a visual idea of whose paychecks I'm signing. Plus, with a wife like Ana who has this compulsion to talk to everyone, it would probably score me some points with her for making the effort.
"I think that sounds great, Christian." Ana's hand rests on my knee lightly, her finger tip making tiny circles much like I do to her.
"Can Steele Translations tag along?" Missy asks.
"Your boss will be there so I don't see why not. What do you think, Barney?"
His eyes grow a bit wider before he sits up straight and wipes his mouth with his napkin. "What do I think?" Have I never asked for his opinion before? He seems totally caught off guard. "I think that would be awesome. It would take months of planning so I don't see it happening until the Spring or next winter but yeah, your employees would love that. Would you go as well?"
"Of course I would, it's my company." Am I that much of an enigma to these people?
Apparently I am because later that day I've fielded no less than ten calls from Andrea and my logistics team who can't seem to understand what it is I'm asking of them. Exasperated I finally have Andrea sit down for five minutes and just write what it is I want. "You're in charge," is all I say when I'm done, effectively dismissing her to figure the rest out. She looks at her tablet again and opens her mouth like a fish out of water.
"You want to rent out the resort from a Thursday night to a Sunday night and you want a private secured villa to yourself?"
"Myself and Mrs. Grey, yes. You can put my brother and sister in adjacent ones, I'd like them to be there as well. And see if my parents want to come. Maybe ask Raymond Steele too."
She purses her lips and looks at the damn tablet again.
"And you'll be there the entire time?"
"Fuck, Andrea, yes! Why is that so hard for you all to comprehend? It's a god damned company retreat and I own the god damned company!"
She scurries out just as Jacqueline shuffles in, pregnant belly leading the way, to usher in my entire security team.
"Gentlemen." They all take their seats at the conference table and open up their tablets to the agenda they were sent not five minutes ago though I imagine this is a conversation that started between them a few hours ago already. I take my own seat at the head of the table, ignoring my cell when it shows that Elliot is calling.
"My life has taken on drastic changes in the last six months or so and as such so have the security measures we've put into place. For the most part what we've always done has continued to work but my wife tends to have a wider social circle than me and that is what we need to discuss today."
"Sir, if I may take the lead on this?" Welch asks, standing when I wave at him to continue. "Our expectation is that the media frenzy surrounding you and your wife will eventually go back to a more manageable level within a few months or so. Currently, from our intelligence, we've been able to identify four leading gossip outlets that have assigned someone to track each of you and three more full time independent photographers who are doing the same. Most of the attention is on Mrs. Grey but since she gives the media nothing to work with, they've begun to follow her friends in the hopes of picking up a story worth selling. Today would be example number one. Ideally we would be given access to her friends but to date Mrs. Grey has been less than accommodating on that front."
I scoff because that was a very polite way of telling me that Ana isn't cooperating with them the way they want. "I'll speak to them myself and explain the situation." He nods, seemingly appeased for the moment.
"My wife will also be out in the public more now that she needs to furnish and decorate our home on the Sound. I've decided to add on CPO Prescott as a full time operative. She and Luke Sawyer will accompany Anastasia to any and all outings. My question is what we can do for her friends who are being hounded. Today it was an employee, two days ago it was the guy who approached her friend Casey at a business dinner hoping to find out more about the wedding, the day before that her father walked outside of his home to not one but two photographers who had camped out at his residence over night. Elliot tells me there are cars parked all along the road our new home is on day and night and twice now the alarm has been tripped during his night security."
"Sir all we can do is tackle each issue as they arise. The security on the house will become more efficient once the perimeter fence is installed next week. In the interim I've called a friend of mine who owns a canine security company. Beginning tonight there will be four well trained Dobermans patrolling the property along with two handlers. We can discuss keeping his team on or getting a team of dogs on our own once you move into the residence. As to the individuals in your life, our only real option is to hire a CPO for anyone and everyone in your inner circle."
At that I snort and pinch the bridge of my nose. "If that were an option I'd do it but I know her friends and that's not going to happen."
"Mr. Grey, your brother is here to see you," Andrea says over the speaker. If it weren't important she'd never interrupt me so I dismiss my team, demanding a plan to keep the rumors at bay and to keep her friends safe by weeks end. Before they're all out Elliot is in my office shaking with his phone in his hand. His face is bright red, his eyes wild and angry. In my life I've never seen him like this.
"I've been calling you for twenty fucking minutes!" He looks down at the table where my phone is face down on the glass and grits his teeth. "Answer your damn phone when I call! Have you seen it? Is that what that meeting was about? Have you fucking seen it yet?" he asks, the words filled with contempt.
"Seen what?" I ask, my hand reaching for his phone that is held so tightly in his palm.
"Perez Hilton has a link on his page that directs you to a blog that one of my ex...whatever you want to call them runs. The blog was originally about the nightlife here in Seattle but since the news of mine and Kate's engagement it's become a running list of women I've fucked including details."
Before I even look at it I call Welch and Barney back in and have them take a seat across from my desk as I pull the blog up on my desktop.
Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Scorned by the one and only Elliot Grey
You heard it here first ladies of Washington and the world. Our very own self proclaimed bachelor for life, Elliot 'I'm too cool for a middle name' Grey has decided that he is, indeed, the marrying kind. At that I have to laugh because any woman who thinks they can tame someone like him, who looks like him, fucks like him, and has a reputation like his is delutional. So who is the deluded and stupid fool who has agreed to be his permanent fuck buddy? None other than Katherine Kavanaugh, a slut in her own right. How do I know his to be crowned Queen is just another whore? Ready for it...I went to high school with her! How's that for a slap in the face! Princess heiress to the Kavanagh Media conglomerate, Kate's been bedding our very own walking STD for a few months now. So what happens when two skanks get together and decide to be serious? They get engaged of course! Because it's totally normal to go from not even being able to say the word marriage to wanting to actually, you know, be married.
Do I sound bitter? You bet I do. Two years ago I met Mr. My Cock Can Cure Cancer at a bar in Kirkland. Like a fool I fell into his bed that night and the next night thinking that surely the connection and witty banter we'd been sharing meant something. Would lead us somewhere. Right? Right!
And it did. It led me to a broken heart that was only made slightly less painful when he explained that relationships, dating, marriage...they just weren't in the cards for him. Never would be, he said with conviction. I believed him. Of course I tried to change him and yes, he did tell me all of that before I let him bend me over the hood of his car behind my apartment complex but that didn't stop me from trying anyway. Hey, I can't stand the guy but I'm not gonna lie. The sex was off the charts good and his dick...let's just say it's big enough to get the job done right.
So after a few more random hook ups over the next few weeks I found out he'd been randomly hooking up with a stripper at Café A GoGo, an accountant visiting from Maine and the preschool teacher at my nieces school. At the same time! A crime? No. He'd been upfront with all of us but still...how disgusting. To mend my shattered ego I repeated the mantra he'd laid upon me over Sam Adams and Absolute. 'I don't ever want a girlfriend and I will never get married'. It wasn't me, it was him! He was the damaged one. I could live with that.
So imagine my shock when the headline on my home screen two mornings after Halloween is of him and the blond he's been banging for a few months announcing their engagement! After choking, blinking, and wiping up the coffee I'd spit everywhere I began to seethe. How dare he use all of these women and then find love before us. He was the one who was the asswipe. Why should he get us and the happily ever after?
Since our unfortunate union I have met seventeen women who have all been fucked and left by Elliot Grey. Not all of them are as upset as I am, some are now married themselves and others see their encounters with him as nothing more than a one night stand in which both parties left intact.
I am not one of those parties. I am bitter and angry. I feel used and mistreated. I was lied to and betrayed by someone I let inside my body! Am I ashamed of my time with him? No. I'm embarrassed that I fell for someone like him to begin with. He should be ashamed and if he wasn't before, he will be when he sees this. So if you've been burned by Elliot, here's your place to vent it out. Let's keep a running tally of how many of us there are and shove it down his new fiancée's throat. Who knows, maybe there's a list for her too, God knows it would be a long one. But you know what they say...birds of a feather and all that shit.
For a minute I just stand there stunned by this woman's vitriol and her obvious lack of mental health care. Elliot is pacing back and forth pulling on his hair so hard his brows are lifting, panic infused on every inch of his face. The list is up to 23 women, all whom have included a link to a separate page that describes their encounters. How it managed to get this out of hand and this large in such a short amount of time is alarming and shocking.
Without a word I hand the phone to Welch who quickly reads it and then hands it to Barney who skims it, writes down the URL and then walks out of the room. I don't need to tell him to shut it down, that much is painfully obvious.
"What are the legal avenues we can take to make this go away and to press suit against this woman?" I ask Welch who is taking screen shots while I dial in legal.
"You want to sue her?" Elliot yells. "How about killing her? Making her disappear permanently? This shit is going to be read by our family, her family, her friends...her!"
"Kate doesn't know about this yet?" I ask, confused at how she'd be in the dark still.
"Well I didn't point it out if that's what you're asking. I just found out about it a minute before I called you! Fuck!"
Welch lifts his head and nods once, "Site's down, Sir." Barney will receive a raise immediately.
At that Elliot drops to the nearest seat and covers his face with both hands.
"How the hell did you manage to fuck so many lunatics, E? We're on day, what? four here and you've got over 20 women willing to make themselves look like fools. That's plain crazy. Is this some kind of fetish of yours or something? Screw the craziest woman you can find?"
"You want to talk to me about fetish's?" he deadpans. I grin and push off my desk to get a water bottle from the in suite kitchenette.
"Touché."
Minutes later Elliot, my father, Welch, Barney, Taylor and my head of legal, Burt, are sitting around the conference table in an effort to ward off another public attack. Which is pretty much impossible when Elliot reveals just how many scorned women there may be out there. I'm pretty sure my father is going to throttle him once we're alone and it's obvious that Burt is revolted by his playboy ways but the rest of us manage to stay focused. I can only imagine what my team is thinking since they know all about my private sex life as well.
"Legally we're flaccid. Nothing we can do unless you want to sue her for slander which at this point, you could probably win easily. The problem with that is that your intention is to keep this quiet and if you sue her, you open the door to a shit ton of media speculation and investigation. My advise, which you can take or leave, is to continue to monitor the net for all activity with your name in it and have our team here at GEH shut it down as soon as something comes up. As to these women and this particular blogger, our legal team can activate today and deliver gag orders or intents to sue. It means about as much as the paper it's written on but chances are it will scare them enough to shut them up." Burt raises his brows and leans back. "Then again, we're dealing with nut jobs so one never can predict what they'll do."
Elliot's phone starts to ring, Katy Perry's "Teenage Dream" blaring in my office. His face goes white as does my father's when we realize it's Kate calling. He holds up one hand and answers as normally as possible but it's evident within seconds that she knows because his face falls and he gasps at whatever it is she's just said.
"I'm on my way right now, Katie...ok, ok. Kate. I'm on my way, Kate...baby...I'm sorry, Kate...ok, ok, I won't call you baby anymore...don't say that..." He stands and makes his way to the door, my father blocking his exit. I dismiss the team assembled to try to save some Grey pride. When he's hung up, or more accurately, when she's hung up on him, he looks at us, his mouth opening and shutting like a fish out of water. I feel for him right now, I really do. This is my exact nightmare come to life and he's experiencing it.
"I realize you've got hell to pay at home, Elliot Grey but I have something to say to you first. Your behavior has always been of concern to your mother and me. Since your dick could get hard you were always looking to stick it in something. I don't know where your lack of control comes from and I don't know how you think it's acceptable to treat women as if they were commodities for your amusement. In all my years with your mother I have never, not once, stepped outside the sanctity of our vows for any kind of affection. That is how I expect you to treat my future daughter in law. If she'll still marry you after this public shaming of not just you but her. Imagine the way her family must feel, Elliot! And I have to now sit across from these people on Saturday for dinner!" He leans in and points his finger in Elliot's face. "You are reaping what you sowed, son. All of us are!"
Carrick storms out, slamming the door behind him so that I'm alone with my brother who I'm pretty sure is about to cry. I have no idea what to say or do but I hug him anyway and pat his back, wishing him luck when he leaves to go home. My own phone hasn't rung so I doubt Ana has found out about this yet and as much as I don't feel like dealing with it and having this conversation with her, I'm hoping someone tells her so that I don't have to.
Three o'clock. The longest day of my damn life so far and it's only three o'clock.
Later that night, after hours of meetings, frantic calls from my mother and sister over the situation with Elliot, a dinner that bored me to tears and a call from my cousin Gavin who wants to know what he should do to get Lisa to take him seriously...what the fuck is that about...I find myself walking into Escala. On the floor in the great room are boards of design patterns, colors and fabrics that Ana has been looking over. There is a fire in the fire place, no surprise there since she's always lighting that thing up, and an empty glass of wine on the coffee table.
Shucking my jacket, tie and belt I find her coming out of the wine fridge with a bottle of Reisling.
"Hey!" she says with a smile, placing the cold bottle on the counter before hooking her arm around my neck to kiss me. "I thought you'd be much later."
"We finished earlier than planned. Pour me one of those, baby?" Out of the fridge she pulls a slice of cheesecake and then pours me a glass, handing it to me with another kiss.
"Gail made cheesecake tonight."
"I can see that."
Her head cocks to the side. "It's your favorite. I thought you'd be all over it by now."
"You're my favorite and I want to be all over you instead." I know she wants to talk, I can sense it by the way she keeps opening her mouth and then quickly shutting it and as much as I love our conversations, I need some quiet. Well, moans and pants and whimpers are good but no talking. Please God no more talking. "Do me a favor and come here. As cute as you look in these pajama's, I want you out of them."
"But,"
"Ah ah ah, I told you I'd be ravishing you when I got home tonight and here I am. We're now at 50 hours since fucking and the way I see it, we've got some time to make up for. Now shimmy those pants and those tiny panties I know you're wearing down to the floor and hop up on this counter top so I can see what's mine."
"But don't you want to,"
"Ana," I sigh, exhausted from the day, "I really just want to be with you right now. No talking, just connecting and being. Can we do that now and talk later? Please?"
"Are you saying that you need me, husband?" she teases as she drops the pants to the floor.
"God, yes. Need, want, have to have...call it what you want just please give it to me."
When she's naked I help lift her up and then settle her back so that my face is between her spread and bent legs. "You have the most beautiful pussy, Ana." One finger glides over the soft and bare lips of her sex, the goose bumps rising on her flesh payment for my patience. I love to touch her like this, for her to feel the constant longing I have for her if only for a few minutes. She says she always wants me and I believe she feels that way but nobody could want another person as much as I want her. "So perfect," my entire hand cups her. "So pink," my thumbs pull her open for my visual pleasure. "So tight," one middle finger sinks in until I can go no further. "So delicious."
Her entire body bows when I take her clit between my lips. "You were waiting for me weren't you, Mrs. Grey?"
"Yes!" she gasps as I resume my sucking.
"I can tell. You're so close already." I pull back, she groans her displeasure. "I should cool you down a bit." When she raises her head I let her watch me take a sip of my wine and then bend back to her, my lips and tongue cold against the incredible heat between her legs.
"Oh God," she breathes. I chuckle because yes, when it comes to sex, I am a god. Before she can anticipate my next move I take the finger that I'd had in the cold wine glass out and slide it inside, her gasp the exact response I was hoping for. While she acclimates to the sensation I take another sip but this time I let the liquid drip from my mouth and onto her slit.
"Do not come, Ana. I want to feel your orgasm on my cock, baby."
"Then stop," she begs, one hand reaching for the hand currently finger fucking her. But I can't stop because she looks so god damn gorgeous spread out on my counter top like this that I never want it to end. "Christian!" she shrieks and only then do I pull out. She makes an attempt to get down but I'm not finished yet so as my hand holds her hip in place I fill my mouth again and latch on to her clit, flicking it with the tip of my tongue as the cool wine laps at her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm going to come if you don't stop...don't stop...oh my god...right there...No!"
"You'll come when I want you to, baby." With the back of my hand I wipe my mouth and pick her up from the counter, turning her so that one knee is on each of the stools. "Fuck you look good like that." While I unzip I take the visual in of my wife, legs as far apart as they'll go, body half resting on the counter to keep her balance. "I'm going to fuck you know and you can come whenever you want."
Bending my knees just slightly I run the head of my dick along her soaking seam and slide in fast and harsh. I will never, ever, get over how good she feels. Despite the cool down I just gave her she's burning hot and getting hotter with each stroke. With one hand holding her hip I wrap the other around her ponytail and pull her head back onto my shoulder so that I can see her tits bounce too.
"Come," I whisper in her ear. She squeals and then starts to mumble, falling silent just as I slow down so that I can feel the grip of her as she convulses around me. The shred of restraint I was holding onto slips out of my hands when she yells my name and I pound into her so hard I fear I may bruise her. She takes it and pushes back against me which sets off a climax for the record books.
"God you are one hell of a good fuck, Anastasia Grey," I sigh when I can finally bring myself to pull away from her. She squeals again when I lift her and sit her on my lap on the floor. Out of habit I bury my nose in her hair and inhale, the calming scent of her shampoo and of the sex we just had the perfect ending to a shitty day. "Everyday I thank God it was me who got to bring your sexuality out."
"I thought you don't believe in God," she says, out of breath, her head resting on my shoulder while her fingers mindlessly run over my chest hair.
"I do when I'm with you," I tease. "I can tell you this though. Tonight, the last thing I want to do is talk about anything heavy. I want to get my wine, eat my cake, see what you've picked out and then make love to you face to face."
"You don't want to talk about Elliot and what happened today? Kate won't pick up when I call and Ethan said she won't even talk to him and that has never happened before. Or what about Barney and Eliza? Or the paparazzi and all that stuff?" Holy shit no. I don't want to talk about any of that crap.
"My Grandfather gave me a bit of advise when we first got engaged and Bastille, who by the way has been happily married for a long time now, well he reiterated that same advise."
"Which was?"
"Me and you? We're on an island. People can come visit and we can go visit others but we never leave the island apart and we don't invite negativity onto our island. Talking about any of that shit that went down today is asking for negativity and Ana? I want to be on our own island. Let Kate and Elliot be on theirs, let Barney and Eliza be on theirs. Tonight, let's get our home ready and relax and enjoy that fact that our little bubble is firmly intact."
"You're right," she sighs, reaching for her top and pulling it over her head. "But don't you ever worry about your ex's doing something like this? I mean, you said there were a lot more than the 15..."
I am so not going there with her tonight. Or ever if I can help it.
"Hey," I say softly, pulling her chin up so that I can kiss her. "I was very careful with who I signed on and I was even more black and white when it came to expectations so no, I'm not worried about any of that coming out. As to the others, if they even remember our time and can figure out who I was, then they certainly have no way of proving it anyway. I was young and a nobody when I was training, Ana. We never used real names, the sessions weren't taped or anything like that so don't worry about this happening to us. It won't." I can't promise her it won't even though I can't see a scenario in which it's plausible at this point.
"You really don't think this could happen to you? I mean, you have a lot of past...dalliances."
At that I have to laugh. "Ana. Compared to Elliot my number is practically virginial."
"OK, now that's funny. What does that make my number then?"
"Perfect. Just me which is just the way it should be." I put a finger to her lips and kiss her temple as I carry her to our room to shower. "And before you ask, yes, I'd erase every single woman from my past and yes, I would bet my very last dollar Elliot would do the same right about now."
"Well it's gonna cost him every one of his dollars if he plans on keeping Kate after this," she snorts. "One word. Diamonds. And a lot of them but even that's not going to make this right."
"You really think she'd leave?"
"I don't know," she exhales, letting me take of her top so that I can lead her into the shower. "If this were the first time she had to deal with his past, maybe. But this has been a constant source of stress since day one and it just seems to keep getting worse." I pull her to me and hold her tightly. "So, yeah, maybe this is her last straw. Or maybe this will unite them even more. I just don't know."
Hearing that makes me actually hurt for Elliot. To have to worry about the woman you love leaving you? To worry that I could come home one day and not have my wife here waiting for me? That's my idea of hell. "I never want to worry about you leaving me, Ana. Promise me I don't have to worry about that." Under my arm she shakes her head back and forth, kissing my chest with each pass.
"Never. I'll never leave you, Christian. We're a team you and me."