Chapter Nine – Fever Pitch
Christian
Same time my phone rings she gently tears away from my hold on her elbow. As my pace slows to a crawl, I keenly observe her advancing ahead to the plane at a slow and unsteady pace. This morning I found her curled tight on the couch with a blanket scrunched against her chest. Her breathing was somewhat uneven and labored, a film of sweat covered her forehead, and her color was a bit pale. Anastasia is unwell and insists that it's nothing and I shouldn't be concerned about her current state.
The phone rings for a third time before I glance at it in the palm of my hand. Not recognizing the number, I stand on the windy tarmac to take the call. Before I could greet the caller, she interrupted me angrily.
"You know," she sneers, "I see why I left you, Christian."
"Savannah," I reply unamused. "If I had known it was you, I wouldn't have answered"
"GEH terminated my contract, no doubt you orchestrated this to get back at me".
I smirk, "Really, this is the first I'm hearing of this . . ."
"Bullshit, you had them terminate my contract without telling me. . ."
"Without telling you, Savannah," I spit mockingly, "you want to be courteous now, you want me to be nice and play fair . . ."
"You're being vindictive . . . ."
"Then so be it," I rage as my eyes catch Anastasia boarding the plane. "You and I are over, you made that categorically clear a long time ago when you drew that line. Then you crossed that line when you presumed that you could intimidate my wife. Lucky for you, she's unfazed and she doesn't give a shit what you think. You attempted to provoke her, twice, and I warned you. What did you expect was going to happen here? You thought we would be best friends after what you did, why the hell I let this go on so long is beyond me?"
"You know why," I hear her smile.
"Wrong again," I say tight, "If ever you do anything to mess with my wife again, you'll have to deal with me personally and trust me, I don't give a damn if your blind husband comes to defend you. Don't challenge me, Savannah, I promise you'll lose more than you're worth".
"You can't do this?" she argues.
"Make no mistake, Savannah, it's already been done. Grey Enterprises Holdings has the flexibility to terminate your funding at its discretion and trust me, our rights have been exercised to the fullest degree, goodbye, Savannah".
"Christian-" I hear her screech before I end the call.
My eyes catch her to the left of the plane, she's slumped lethargically in the seat, gazing out the window.
"We'll come back," I utter truthfully. She glances at me half-lid. "I promise"
"Okay," her eyes droop by a fraction.
"Why won't you let me call a doctor, we're still here, it's not too late, let me call someone . . ."
"No, Christian, please. I just need to rest; I swear I'm feeling much better . . ."
"You're lying to me," I accuse, trying to keep my cool.
"I'm not,"
"You don't look so good, Anastasia. Instead of listening to you, I should have called the doctor," I say to myself, guilt-ridden.
"Would you stop it already? I said I'm fine. Don't worry about me, I took something after breakfast . . ."
"But you hardly ate . . ."
"It's really nice that you're concerned about me, but my headache is gone . . ."
"Yet the plane is cool and you're sweating bullets. I can reschedule our departure for tomorrow . . ."
"Christian, please," she tries to reassure in a gentle tone, "I'm fine, let's go home."
Gail (Seattle)
Pacing quickly down the corridor, I go through the rest of the day in my mind when I hear it. As I approach Mr Grey's office, the distinctive sounds of movement resonate from behind the door. Mr & Mrs. Grey are supposed to be on a plane right about now, and if someone were to be here, he would let me know, he would always let me know. Unsure of the presence in the penthouse, my mind races with fear. As best as I can, I jog almost noiselessly on my toes down the hallway towards the kitchen to retrieve my phone. The probability of the call going unanswered comes through when it goes straight to voicemail.
"Hello . . . Mr. Grey, there's someone in your office and I'm afraid to go in," I speak in a nervous whisper, "I'm wondering, did you forget to tell me if someone was dropping by? I need you to call me back, Sir".
Uneasiness racks my body when I hang up. It's not Taylor, he's with Mr Grey at this time and if Amos or Elliot were to drop by, they would let me know before going traipsing around the penthouse. Down the hallway, it continues, the rummaging and shuffling of paper. I gripped my phone shakily between my palms and slowly tiptoe back to the room. With a deep breath and a firm grip on the door handle, I plunge it down opening it with a firm push.
To the far left of the room, Mia glances over her shoulder and returns to her task undeterred. She's busily placing a few folders back in a drawer. Surprised, I stare at her back in confusion.
"Good afternoon, Gail," she announces flatly.
"Good afternoon, Ms Grey. I didn't know you were here. Mr Grey didn't say. . ."
"He doesn't know I'm here," she cuts me off.
"Excuse me?" I questioned, unsure of what I was hearing.
"I said, he doesn't know I'm here," she repeats. "What? This is my brother's office, I'm here regarding a matter with the company".
"But he doesn't know you're here," I say, narrowing my eyes.
"And?" she challenges, sizing me up.
It's not customary for Mia to show up uninvited. Of the very few persons in his life, she has access to his home at any hour on any given day. But to intrude on his privacy and take advantage of his trust was something different altogether.
"No, I have to let him know," I begin, "You can't be in here, this is his private office. You should leave," I demand fearlessly.
Just about then, she places the last file in the drawer and slams it shut, making me jump. Turning slowing on her pumps, she steps measured, straight-faced, and menacing towards me.
"I have more right to be in here than you do. Christian is my brother, you're the person that cleans up after him," she sneers giving me a crude once-over. "Please, do call him. Let him know I was here . . . . I'm leaving, I found what I was looking for".
She coldly skirts past me and exits the room. Nothing appears to be out of place, and I didn't see her take anything. What was she doing here? . . . . . Mr Grey isn't going to like this.
Ana . . . . NINETEEN YEARS OLD
"Back off, Ethan," I say over my shoulder.
"No, this conversation isn't over".
"Hey, I didn't say you could come in here," He ignores me and shuts the door to my room.
"I'm just looking out for you, goddamnit," he bellows.
"Would you be quiet you'll wake my mom! And how are you looking out for me? You're ruining my life. . ."
"What? When you're doing a bang-up job all by yourself?" he says perturbed, "I don't want you talking Griffith."
I cross my arms under my breast, "I'm nineteen, Ethan. Believe me, you don't have a say".
"He isn't good for you, Ana."
"Like I said before, Ethan, you don't have a say, and just so you know, I'm not interested in Griffith. We're just friends. You know what a friend is right? Someone you can talk to or hang out with. Not like the random girls you take to your room every night to screw".
He flinched like I'd slap him across the face, "I don't want you talking to Griffith."
This is ridiculous, "Well, maybe I don't want you screwing those girls, but you'll do it anyway".
Thoughtless, he stalks across the room backing me into my bed, my thighs hit the side and I almost fall onto the mattress.
"Is that what you want, Ana? You want someone to take your virginity".
"Who said I was a virgin," I counter, challenging his accurate statement.
"I know a virgin when I kiss one," he smirks inches from my face.
I flush instantly as my mind tramples over last night's incident when he kissed me at the Lookout. This was too much. I didn't want him to see how he affected me. All I've ever done most of the time was watch him from afar. I've had a crush on Ethan since I was twelve and now, he's twenty-three, just finished college, and hotter than ever. Quickly I brush past him to the door, my hand grips the doorknob, but his hand comes into view fast, pressing against it.
Ethan is standing behind me with his body caging me in. His hands are on either side of me and I keep my eyes on my hand and doorknob. His hard warm body brushes against my back and I bite my lip to suppress any chance of a whimper coming from my lips.
"You have no idea how I fought to get you out of my mind all these years," he breathes against my hair. "The thought of you being with someone else is driving me nuts, Ana."
"What are you saying, Ethan," my voice trembles.
"I'm saying that you shouldn't waste your time on guys like Griffith. You're young and innocent," his words hit me in the gut. That's all I'll ever be to him, his little sister's innocent best friend.
"I'm not a baby you know. I'll be twenty in two months".
"No Anastasia, you're definitely not a baby."
I sense his fingers drawing my hair away from my neck before his lips feather along my nape. Against the sensual haze, I bit my lip again and closed my eyes, reveling in his touch. But like he said before, I'm young and innocent so this can only mean one thing. He doesn't see me for anything else but that. I turn around hastily to confront his actions only to be stopped by his hands cupping my face and his mouth on mine, kissing me painfully slow. His touch moves from my face to my sides, under my shirt. The contact hurls my body into another realm of pleasure, my eyes are scrunched tight as my mind battles for control of this situation. When we'd kissed a few days ago, his hands were nowhere near my body. His tongue leisurely searches my mouth, mimicking an act of sex and his thumbs begin to pad across my bra, penetrating my hardened nipples.
I turn my head to the side to escape his tender lips, "N-no. Ethan, no"
"I promise I won't do anything else, Ana. I just want to kiss you".
"But you're touching me," I squirm.
As if he wasn't aware of what he was doing all along, his hands release me instantly and he stumbles away.
"Sorry," his eyes roam over my flushed face and swollen lips with a wounded stare, "Good night, Anastasia," His exit is quick, and I don't say or do anything to stop him.
My mother always warned me of the dangers of men who only wanted one thing from a woman. Honestly, she'd prefer if I save myself for marriage, but she told me when the time comes, it would be hard to say no, especially if I was in love. And I do feel like I love Ethan with all my heart and for a very long time. The arousal and desires were so overwhelming that I thought that I would lose control. She was right, but I think I have enough will to manage this.
'If a girl isn't ready, it's her duty to say no. If she doesn't, a boy won't stop unless he is told to' I chuckle and shake my head at her voice sounding off in my head. She made sound so easy. 'Just say no, Ana'. Nevertheless, she would be proud and I'm not ready for that step.
Christian
"I may not be able to see your face, Mia, but I know when you're lying," I accuse.
"If I'd known you'd react this way I wouldn't have gone into your precious office. It's not like you had a problem with it in the past,"
The venom oozing from her voice is customary, but I'm not in the mood for it about now, not when she's defending Savannah Stanley.
"People do say when you get married it changes you . . . even against your own family".
"I knew you were underhanded, Mia, but I didn't think you would do it to me. Savannah couldn't get a hold of her contract, so you go to my office, and now you have the audacity to talk about family when your loyalty is elsewhere. Please, save me your high-handed rhetoric".
"I was doing her a favor, Christian. I didn't see it as being treacherous or invading your privacy when I go there whenever I want".
"To begin with, you usually let me know when you're going over there. Second, I find it meddlesome of you to be so interested in Savannah's welfare. She's a big girl. Her contractual arrangement is between GEH and her agency and has absolutely nothing to do with you. If you wanted to see her contract so badly, all you had to do was ask. I could have had Amos send you a copy".
"I didn't want your lackey in my affairs. . ."
"Watch it, Mia. You seem to have a serious problem with everyone who doesn't serve your needs. Amos is also our family's attorney, whether you like it or not he's our main man of business. You go to my home unexpectedly, speak to Gail inappropriately, talk about Amos as if he's dirt below your feet, and then grouse about my marriage as if I've done something to offend you when it is you who has offended me. You're not to show up at my home uninvited, Mia. As a matter of fact, the codes will be changed when I get back. For years I've dealt with your filthy attitude toward others but I'm not having it with those closest to me"
"Oh! So you're close to your phony wife?"
What? Wait a minute. . . ."That's none of your business"
"For your information it is and I'm on to you," she reveals, "You speak about everyone else like they're more important to you than me, Gail, Amos, and now this woman, Anastasia. But it's a good thing you covered your bases".
"What do you mean?" I stopped to listen carefully.
"You had Amos do a contract for your sham of a relationship. It's true I underestimated you, but I thought you would have followed through with my advice".
"Did you go there to dig this up or did it just fall into your lap?"
"Nothing falls into my lap when I need to know. You may think I'm unhanded but I have my methods . . . If you know what's good for you, you won't have sex with her. She might pull a big oops on you; you don't want to be trapped in an arranged loveless marriage".
How naïve of me to think that my sister won't find out about this, now she's dangling it in my face. She sounds just like Savannah; she used those exact words last night. It's clear they've been talking.
"Don't tell Mother about this," I bark in a whisper, "Keep your mouth shut to Savannah, I know you've been feeding her information about me. What I do is none of her business or yours".
"Oh relax; I won't do that to Mother. Savannah on the other hand," she taunts.
"Don't test me, Mia. This one time I'll follow through on my warning. Do you understand?"
"Save your empty threats for your new wife, I'm not afraid of you," she seethes before hanging up.
I silently pray for patience with a hand across my forehead and my fingers gently massage my temples. Sometimes I don't know what the hell is wrong with my sister. A decanter of whiskey beckons me from the other side of the private room. Involuntarily I swallow and exhale slowly, willing myself to look away. A heavy rap on the door instantly knocks the thought of walking over there and quenching the ache in my throat out of my mind. Before I can answer, Taylor walks in with a worried look marring his features.
It's been almost twenty minutes since she's been mumbling incoherently in her sleep he said. When I touch her arm to rouse her, I realize that she's burning up and mildly trembling. She isn't just sleeping, she is unconscious. Taylor has already instructed our pilot to head to Hawaii and to have an ambulance waiting on the tarmac. Her skin is hot and moist, and whatever is going on in her mind seems to be distressing her. She would flinch now and then when she murmured his name repeatedly.
Washcloth in hand, I gently pat her forehead and neck. Strands of hair clump in messy bunches to the side of her face and parts of her neck. Dipping the cloth in the cold water, I find myself staring at her face and wondering. When awake, she would purposely try to annoy me or try to get a smile out of me. If she was awake now, she would say that she was fine, or that I was overreacting. I should've heeded my gut when it said I should call the doctor. She's so goddamn headstrong. At the time I didn't want to force her to do anything, but I should've done this, and I don't think I could forgive myself if something were to happen to her.
Ana . . . . TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD
Confirmation of his presence is evident when his fragrance drifts to my nostrils. His strong protective arms capture me from behind in a warm, tender embrace. I would love nothing more than to stay like this. I feel safe and loved.
"What are you doing out here?" he breathes while dabbing kisses along the side of my neck.
"I needed to get some air," The sun is gone. My eyes are fixed on the horizon watching the light retreat from the evening sky with it.
His grip deepens when he rests his chin on my shoulder, "Is everything alright?" I don't reply, but I can tell he knows what I'm thinking. "Ana, please. Don't be like this".
I pull myself away, "Be like what, Ethan? When were you going to tell me? We've been planning this move for almost five months . . . you could have told me you weren't going. I had to hear it from Mindy?"
"I wanted to tell you myself, and Mindy has a big mouth . . . I know eighteen months is a long time, but I promise I'll come to see you as often as I can. Dad needs me, Ana".
"And I respect that. But I'd rather hear it from you, I feel like you don't trust me".
I leave him standing alone on the balcony. Tomorrow Kate and I will be leaving our home for Seattle, and Ethan isn't coming with us. Everyone knew except me. I reach for my jacket that's sprawled across his bed when his hand clutches my wrist.
"Give me eighteen months . . . That's all I need".
"I know, you said that already. I just wanted you to be with me and don't behave like that. I'm not angry with you," I say composed.
"I am with you, Ana, no matter where you are. C'mon don't go out, stay with me".
"Everyone's waiting for us, Ethan, and we're leaving tomorrow, remember?"
"Exactly," he says pulling me firmly against his body, "Stay with me, tonight," he croons against my ear.
"Ethan, I-"
"Please," he appeals, gently placing kisses on my neck.
Slowly I feel his groin harden, pressing against my lower abdomen. His mouth fervently captures mine making me submit my inhibitions and any thoughts of initial refusals.
Minutes later, the room is completely dark; the doors to the balcony are open ushering in the cool night air. I'm trapped beneath the weight of his body contending with his fervour and strength. There's nothing new about Ethan's kisses, they're usually passionate and endless. The only difference here is that we're in his bed and his hand has drifted under my tank top sliding along my ribs and roaming over the lacy fabric of my bra. Pushing the hem of the top over my breast, he moves his lips to the places his hand had been. His warm mouth lands on my skin kissing and sucking until he finds the tips of my hardened nipples. He's intense and his advances are forceful more than ever. In a winded, troubled whisper, I call his name repetitively to get his attention.
"God, Ana. I want to fuck you," his breath fans over my breast.
His carnal words break the moment, making way for rational thoughts to form in my mind. . . .I don't want to be fucked and I'm not comfortable doing this now.
"We shouldn't, Ethan," I whisper.
His taut body stiffens, and his face suddenly hovers over me, through the semi-darkness I can tell his eyes are smoldering. Honestly, I was growing lightheaded, wanting more of his touch. Things have never gotten this heated, or at least I never wanted it to. The urge to satisfy the need in my body is overwhelming, compounded by the fact that I'm hot and slick.
"Don't be afraid," he soothes, his thumb stroking the side of my face.
"We shouldn't, not now. . ."
"Why not now, Ana, don't you love me?" he accuses, a bit harsh.
My breath escapes me, and guilt floods my subconscious. I've never given him a reason to query my devotion or my unyielding love. Quietly, I began to question myself and my actions, I couldn't understand the reason for his uncertainties.
"Of course, I do," I defend, "I love you more than anything, Ethan."
"Then show me. You already have my heart, Ana. We belong together; let me prove it to you".
His hand dips between my legs cupping the moist surface of my panties. Deftly, he pulls it to the side plunging a lone finger inside me. The intrusion catches me off-guard; it feels so good, yet it feels so wrong. The tenderness is gone; I flinch mildly as another finger penetrates my virgin channel. Under the intense heat and sensations, that's drowning me, my body stiffens from his jagged strokes, and I begin to writhe uncomfortably.
"You're so fucking wet for me, Ana."
"Ethan,-"
"You need to relax," he says against my lips, "You'll only hurt yourself . . . close your eyes".
"I just-"
"I love you."
"I-I love you too, Ethan."
"I won't hurt you; let me show you how good we are together. Now relax"
This isn't what I expected and against my better judgment, I don't protest. I do as he says, willing myself to take steady breaths and my body to calm itself. I lie on the bed with my eyes closed and permit him to peel my clothes away. His fingers plunge into me again, this time harder and deeper, flexing and stretching me further. The surface of his bare skin burns. Using his legs and his hand, he quickly spreads my thighs apart. The tip of his penis penetrates me without warning and before I can object, he kisses me hard. I gasp his name into his mouth, my fingers digging into his biceps; his response is a low growl. Forcefully, he grabs my backside to steady me, then thrusts sharply into me, causing me to cry out. . . .
Christian
Peering through the window, I pace the corridor as the nurse administers a new bag of intravenous fluids. There I find myself talking to Elliot again. If I count the time Anastasia fell asleep on the plane to now, I will say she's been out for over fourteen hours. Earlier, I thought this phone call would alleviate Kate's fears and curiosity, but somehow, I believe that this is all for me. Kate is in the background shooting random questions about Anastasia's condition and nothing I say to Elliot can calm her anxiety. I know how she feels, she's in Seattle but truly, she wants to be here. Earlier, I told her Anastasia was doing well, so she followed my declaration with a request to have a picture sent to her.
I refused. Why?
Anastasia is pale, unconscious, and has an IV line running from her arm with machines monitoring her vitals. Sending a picture to Kate wouldn't relieve the already preconceived images that are flooding her mind. Against my forgoing counsel, Kate desperately wants to get on a flight.
"Please tell her there's no need, Elliot. Anastasia is dehydrated and she needs rest," I say adamant, "the doctors said she should be okay by this afternoon. I will call if there are any further developments, but for now, she's doing fine. Please restate to Kate that Anastasia is progressing well, I promise . . . . . there's no need to worry".
"I hear you, Christian. . . . I can tell this isn't easy for you too".
Silence claps I don't reply to his comment. The nurse nods respectfully when she exits the room crisscrossing me in the hallway. Taylor comes around the corner with a paper bag and another cup of coffee. He nudges me to follow him but doesn't move an inch. I want to be here when Anastasia comes to, she might panic if she wakes up in a strange place. Thinking about it, even if I'm with her she might panic.
Ana
Wretchedness swallows my entire body; I've lost all sense of time and my bearings. This is probably the third occasion where I've tried to open my eyes. Even though I had blacked out, I heard Christian fussing and trying to comfort me at the same time. Sometimes I would feel a bare hand across my forehead or fingers touching my face, pushing my hair back. Barely opening my eyes, I slowly sit up in bed. Chills touch my skin when I realize that my back is exposed, I'm wearing one of those hospital gowns. To the left, the sun is peeking through the curtained windows, and on the other side of the room, Christian is slumped in an armchair asleep. My lips feel cracked, and my mouth is dry. Wanting to say his name, my mind makes several attempts to force my throat to speak with no success. Finally, I'm able to clear my throat softly and he's jolted awake almost immediately.
"Hey," he says, blinking several times before he gets up.
His eyes soften when he comes to my side. Realizing my words are trapped I observe his mood in admiration; a small smile creases my lips.
"How do you feel?" I take a breath and clutch my neck lightly, "Water? You need water?"
Before I can nod, he's already across the room filling a glass from a tall pitcher. Gratefully I take it and drink the liquid quickly like it's the first time in years. Licking my lips, I shut my eyes and savor the sensation of my insides being quenched. My body aches with a tinge of discomfort but my headache has dissipated.
"Better?" he asks carefully watching me.
"Better," I croak.
"Do you need anything else?"
"I'm hungry," I barely sound.
His body reflects my disposition, he's worn and bothered. My thoughts provoke a transient but ridiculous idea that Christian was worried about me enough to sit there until I woke up.
"I should call the doctor so you can eat something. . ."
"No, wait. Where are we?" I questioned, looking around the room.
"Hawaii," he replies. I stare at him to incite further clarification. "I couldn't wake you; you were unconscious, you had a high fever, and you were sweating profusely. So . . ."
"You had the plane land here," I complete softly.
"Well, Taylor did, you were in a terrible state. It appeared that you exerted yourself throughout your trip, and clearly, you weren't sleeping. Were you?"
Faced with this revelation my body mechanically sinks into the mattress, I have nothing to say in my defense. It's true. I haven't been getting much sleep. Talk of Ethan coming to Kate's wedding has triggered memories I thought were repressed. I've been taunted by images of his face every night since that day. Unknowingly, fragments of the dreams I suffered while I was asleep seeps into my mind. Shutting my eyes tight, tears burn my eyelids then seep from the corners of my eyes.
"Anastasia," he whispers close to my face. I don't flinch. "What's wrong?"
"I'm fighting ghosts," I say to myself, mentally evading his proximity. "I'm sorry, I just remembered something."
"What is it?" he asks delicately. I open my mouth, but he interrupts subtly, "And before you say it's nothing, I should tell you that you were talking and whimpering while you were out cold".
Startled by this, I open my eyes only to realize how close he really is. From this angle, I can clearly see that his eyes are devastatingly beautiful, but I also see worry and too much concern on my part.
"What did I say?" I enquire, averting my gaze from his.
"You were troubled most of the time, and you called his name over and over . . . . . What did he do to you?"
I exhale and murmur below my breath, "I don't know what you're talking about. Besides, we're not supposed to delve into each other's lives, remember?" His features stiffen and his lips thin into a firm line.
Just then, a tall, striking doctor walks into the room obviously surprised that I'm seated upright in bed. I can make out his muscular body lurking beneath his clothes. Christian's eyes are still on me, I can feel it, but I do my best not to watch the approaching man up and down.
"Mrs Grey," the doctor chimes cheerfully.
"This isn't over," Christian whispers to me before straightening his posture.
"How are you feeling?"
"Tired . . . Hungry" I reply, catching a hint of his tattoo peeking from under his collar.
"Very good! When I've completed my rounds, I'll do a final checkup and once everything is okay, we'll let you go in a few hours".
"Okay!" I try to sound neutral but fail.
"Mr Grey," he acknowledges before he takes his leave.
It's only when he exits that I realize that I was openly ogling at the man. Aware of my actions and slightly weighted by guilt, I slowly glimpse at Christian in the corner of my eye. He's glaring at me half-lid. All the while, I've been paying attention to Dr Handsome, I hadn't realized that my husband noticed me noticing the doctor. Surprisingly there's a tiny smile gracing his lips while he shakes his head in amusement. Several seconds later, silence marinates throughout the room making space heavy and awkward. Christian shifts from one leg to the next with his arms crossed and his head hung as if he's indecisive about something. He takes a deep breath and then looks directly at my face.
"On any given day I'm irritated. Angry. Overwhelmed. Arrogant. Forceful. Rash. Or as you say. . An asshole. I'm immune to certain emotions, or so I thought. . . . In the short time, I've known you; you seemed to unearth a few emotions that are somewhat new to me," He slowly paces the room, "When I couldn't wake you on that plane, I was afraid".
I hold my breath unexpectedly.
He continues, "I remembered the last time I felt that way and I remember not wanting to feel like that ever again. But let's be realistic. At this point, getting involved in each other's lives is inevitable, Anastasia . . . I'm asking you now, for a moment, please forget the contract".
Not in those exact words, but Christian Grey has openly admitted that he cares about me, and I can't move a muscle. I'm too captivated by his demeanor. It's here I remember to breathe when I feel my eyes burn. He's earnest with his feelings right about now, and his candidness makes me want to reciprocate. Inch by inch I mentally cave, finding myself wanting to tell him about Ethan and what happened over a year ago.
I breathe slowly and squeeze my eyes forcing tears to run down my face, "You up for some small talk?"
"I'm right here."
THIRTEEN MONTHS AGO
Confused whilst tugging the strap of my bag on my shoulder, my eyebrows are pinched together as I stare at the lock and then back to the keys between my fingers. I'm sure this is the key to his apartment, I'm certain and I'm foolishly finding reasons why these key refuses to cooperate. Finally admitting defeat, I resort to knocking on the door to Ethan's apartment. My initial plans to surprise him have been thwarted, I'll have to settle for this. Letting out a frustrated and drawn-out huff, my bangs lift slightly off my forehead. I begin to bounce on the balls of my feet as a wave of exuberance spreads through me like an electrical shock. I bite back an elated grin when I hear the clanks and clicks on the other side of the door, getting ready to throw myself in his arms. But glee is instantly replaced with gut-wrenching horror and nausea when Mindy opens the door in an oversized shirt with only two buttons fastened in the middle. Ruefully she gasps and awkwardly leans into the door frame.
"Who is it?" I hear him holler in the background.
No one answers, we stand there staring, silently dialoguing through our contrite body language. She lets go of the door when it opens further to reveal him clad in a pair of pajama pants. Her trembling lips purse and her petrified gaze dips to the floor. My cold eyes angle to a pale, shell-shocked Ethan who is now standing next to her.
"Ana. You're here"
"Yes, I'm here," I reply, my eyes flicking between them. "Mindy? Really?"
"I-I should go," she manages to say in a humble tone, "You two should talk about this."
"Oh no," I insist immediately raising a hand, "It's clear I'm not supposed to be here, I have a key that doesn't open his door anymore".
"I wasn't expecting you, Ana" he interjects.
"No shit, Ethan," I arch a brow.
Keeping her head down, Mindy does her walk of shame to his room and quickly shuts his bedroom door; a room that I was very intimate with.
"So . . . you and Mindy, huh? I didn't see that one coming," I shrug my shoulders, "Or maybe I should have."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I know you and sex, Ethan. I may be a novice in the bedroom but I'm not a total idiot. And I didn't know I meant nothing to you that you're willing to give in to the next available woman. God, Mindy's been trying to fuck you even before we got together, and you know that".
"Ana, it just happened," he snaps.
"It just happened?" I mock a smile, "You said I could trust you. You said to give you time so you could get your shit together, Ethan. I've been faithful to you ever since I left this place, while you've been down here screwing Mindy".
He sighs, "Come in, we should talk about this inside".
"No, I'm not stepping in there. Look, her stuff is all over your apartment. Is she living here? How long has this been going on?"
"She doesn't live . . . ."
"No, but she's comfortable enough to have her things here," I shove the door open and point to evident articles sitting on the coffee table and the couch. He shuts his eyes and remains silent.
"Oh please, this didn't happen an hour ago. You two have been together a while! How long after I left, Ethan?"
"Ana. . ."
I can tell he doesn't want to answer, but I needed to know and get this shit over with. "Tell me," I assert, with angry tears streaming down my face.
"The day after you and I had sex for the first time."
Realization hits me like a tidal wave, that's the day I left and that's nine months ago. Not to mention during that time he visited me in Seattle, and we'd have sex whenever he came by. I feel sick and dirty.
Angrily I shove his bare chest, "I shouldn't have given myself to you, I hate you, Ethan Kavanagh."
"You don't mean that, Ana."
"Oh yes, I do. Did you use protection, you selfish prick?" his silence is deafening, "Oh my god, you could have given me something"
His powerful hands grab me, trying to pull me close. I don't want him to touch me, not when he reeks of sex and her scent all over his body. I struggle fiercely against him.
"NO," I scream. He releases me and steps away. "We're done here. If you're not going to protect me then I'll have to protect myself, especially from you. How could you do this to me, I trusted you. . ."
"Ana, she's pregnant".
It's like I'm on set with Jerry Springer. The invisible studio audience jeers and hollers at the crumbling walls of my life falling around me. My body sways slightly, I plant my feet firmly while my chest tightens. I'm gazing at him but I'm not sure what I'm looking at. This all feels like a nightmare, two hours ago I was ecstatic on a plane that just got to San Diego from Seattle. How did this happen?
"How far along is she?" I ask absentmindedly.
"Almost two months" he breathes.
I shake my head defiantly, my body trembling, "No, I deserve better than this".
"Ana, baby, shit! Let me hold you, I missed you".
"You miss me, you're nuts! You've lost the right to ever touch me again. I'm nothing to you, Ethan".
"Don't say that. We belong together and you know it".
"Something has to be wrong with you if you still think you deserve another chance with me after you did this."
"Please, let me explain. . ."
"Explain what? No, Ethan" I turn to leave, willing myself to be strong and walk away from this mess.
"No, don't go, Ana. You must listen to me".
He seizes my wrist with a stinging grasp, yanking me towards him. Without thinking, my other hand connects to his cheek with a fiery sting. He instantly releases me clutching the side of his face in shock. I made sure to look into his astonished eyes; my next words would be quiet but firm.
"I hate you; I don't care what you have to say to me. I never want to hear your voice again. I trusted you blindly and gave you everything my heart could give. I truly hate you and I never want to see you in my life again".
"I love you, Ana. I need you . . . I don't love her," he points back to the door of his apartment.
"I really don't care . . . . You think I'm stupid, huh? You've been having sex with the both of us since I left, and now she's pregnant. What you thought was going to happen, Ethan? I wasn't going to find out. You were going to stay with me while you had another family on the side?"
Furiously, I screw his ring off my finger and dash it at his feet. Bravely, he tries and steps closer to me.
"Stay the fuck away from me, Ethan".
"This isn't over. You belong to me," his tone is menacing.
"I belong to no one. You think because you took my virginity you own me".
"Yes" he growls, "I couldn't let some asshole from Seattle claim you".
My feet become immobile. Ethan had sex with me so I wouldn't give myself to someone else. And here I thought he loved me.
"What did you say?" I gasped, "You're despicable and selfish".
"I did it for us . . ."
"No, you did it for you, and you're the asshole. Stay away from me, I mean it, Ethan".
"You'll always be mine; you hear me."
"Go to hell," I stomp away, leaving him for the last time.
Christian
Her eyes are lifeless and empty. I hate to admit it, but I hate seeing her this way. I'd wish she would say something to piss me off just to see her smile or a smirk on those beautiful lips.
"After that he kept sending me messages, calling every day. I had to turn my phone off until one day it stopped. Even at that point, I felt empty, like he didn't care anymore. Deep down inside I wanted the jerk to keep hounding me . . . . . I know it sounds desperate".
"You were hurting; most people would feel the same way, Anastasia," I guarantee.
Unconvinced, she smiles anyway and fidgets with her fingers. "Thankfully around that time there was a break in semesters, so I spent my days and nights in bed sleeping and drinking . . . Just to numb the pain"
Solidarity courses through me. Regretfully, I can relate to that statement. I've had needless nights doing the same to chase my own demons.
"It got so bad I had to spend a few days in the hospital for alcohol poisoning".
I close my eyes and nod, remembering that bit of information I came across when I read her file.
"I had to find another way to deal with my breakup. He was the only man I ever loved, even though he didn't love me. I've had a crush on him since I was a little girl. He was everything to me," she mumbles under her breath, "I was naïve. I thought that if I finally gave myself to him, he would want me and only me. I thought he would love me forever. I used to think it was my fault. I left him in San Diego, so he had no other choice but to turn to someone else, or maybe because I was sexually inexperienced, and he didn't want me as much as I wanted him. I wasn't good enough . . . . Then one day I told myself that it wasn't me, it was him. I stopped beating myself up over it".
"How do you feel now? You think you can face him at the wedding?"
She doesn't reply but it's clear that she isn't comfortable with her ex's attendance. The wedding will be in a few days, and I can tell that this Ethan is taking a toll on her. She's probably apprehensive that he'll try to get to her. But I promise . . . I won't let that happen.
"I love Kate . . . I want to be there at the wedding . . ."
"But you don't want to go," I finish. She nods solemnly. "Are you afraid of him?"
"I don't want to talk to him, Christian. I don't want him near me. You don't know him. He'll do almost anything to corner me or put his hands on me".
"That will not happen," I say a bit too harshly, "Sorry. I don't think he'll do anything when I'm around".
"You're coming for the entire wedding? I thought you. . ."
"I wasn't, but I'll be there for this. Don't worry about your ex. I'm your husband, remember?" I remind her with a necessary smirk.
"Yes," she twists her lips sardonically, "How can I forget? It's getting harder to steal a glance at another man while I'm with you," she mutters loosely before clamping her lips together.
Internally I beam by the way her face lights up as we digress to another topic of discussion. Before the wedding, I must find out more about Ethan Kavanagh and furthermore, I don't think I'll press Anastasia to talk about him unless she really wants to.
"Oh! Really?" I cross my arms, tilting my head.
"Yeah, but not in a disrespectful I-want-take-you-home kind of way," she clarifies swiftly with her hands raised. "What?"
"Did you like the nice doctor that came to see you?" I ask suspiciously.
"Ughhh. . . . No?" she lies.
"No?" I parrot taking a step towards her.
She reddens instantly, "Is this a trick question? I feel like it's a trick question".
"No," I taunt sarcastically, "Of course not. Why would you say it's a trick question?"
"I'm not sure, it feels like a trap," she says questionable.
I'm tempted to taunt her further, but she just recovered from a mental and physical battle. And although I enjoy seeing her blush or smile, I want to make sure she's back to her old irritating self.
"I want to take you to get a splendid lunch. Don't worry, it's nothing fancy or over-the-top. You'll like it, it's the best place for seafood on the island," I tell her as I make my way to the door. But before I touch the handle, she calls out to me.
"Thanks for taking care of me . . . and for listening. I mean. I've never told anyone except Kate and I never thought you and I could. ." she gestures between us.
"What? Have a decent conversation," I smirk, "I can do that. But somehow, I think you prefer my bite".
She blushes profusely, then nibbles her bottom lip. I find myself enjoying the glow on her face.
"I'm not what you're used to."
She stares at me wide-eyed, still red in the face. "No"
"Don't worry. You're not what I'm used to either," I grin mischievously, "Let me go get your things quickly. There's no way I'm going to let you enjoy your final check-up alone, I want to be here when that man returns".
She grunts in feigned exasperation, palming her face as I exit the room. She may think I'm joking, but there's no way in hell I'm going to allow another man to paw my wife.
Especially now, that I'm feeling this way.