Chapter 21

Christian

I really used to feel like master of the universe. That's what she had always told me and always had me believe, for a while, anyway. And then Anastasia Steele quite literally fell into my life, and nothing has ever been the same since.

The way I tried to warn her off, the dozens of times I told her I wasn't the man for her, I couldn't give her what she wanted… it now feels like someone should have given me a warning. One might expect that seven years apart would have given me a reprieve from these feelings, but now, even when we're apart, the way she consumes my thoughts is worse than ever. Maybe even more so now with so much feeling unsaid. And at the same time, I don't know what I'd say given the chance.

Still, I begged for the chance just a few days ago. And I haven't heard anything since we said goodnight.

I feel like a fool.

Flynn must have been so sick of me, hearing the same ruminations over and over.

"What are we really sitting here talking about?"

"What do you mean?" I snap.

"Ana is gone. You're mad at her for going. You're mad because she hasn't talked to you. But you also don't want to talk to her, and your last words to her were in anger. Don't you think she could read that? What do you want? Is there anything she could do that would be okay with you?"

I want to yell and ask him whose side he's on, but somehow, I resist that urge. "What exactly is your point?"

"I'm confused. You're confused. She's probably confused. If you want to speak to her, why don't you? Did she imply that she wanted you out of her life?"

"She left."

"She went on a trip. That's different. You keep saying she's left you again, but the last time she left, you told her to. Multiple times. Over and over, until she listened. Now it seems that you want to hold it against her."

"Can't she see what she does to me?"

"Maybe she finds you hard to read, just like you find her hard to read. Maybe this is all a miscommunication. But you'll never know if you don't communicate."

"What would you have me do then?"

"It's not up to me. But I am curious, is there anything you'd like to say to her?"

I get up and start pacing. "I think about her health a lot."

"Her health?"

"Physically and emotionally. She had a miscarriage and then promptly left the country. Has she had complications? Has she been suffering? Did she get a follow-up appointment to make sure she passed everything correctly?"

"Did you and Ana ever discuss children?"

I snort. "We discussed birth control."

"Did she ever say anything about wanting children?"

I swallow uncomfortably at the memory. "She alluded once. I said I didn't want her to get pregnant, and she said she didn't either, not for a few years. Obviously, that would not have been with me."

"Is it obvious?"

My pace slows. "Sometimes I don't know anymore."

"So, she may be struggling with this. A dream unrealized for her."

"She said she felt sad, and bad at the same time for feeling relieved."

"So, not a dream with her ex-fiancé then."

"I don't know."

"You could ask her."

So, I called her. And so much good it's done me. I could have jumped onto my jet and flown there to escort her home myself, but something was tugging at me saying that's not the answer. Been there, done that, and it seems that it overwhelmed her. I'm desperately trying not to make any mistakes this time. But at least I would have had answers sooner. I wasn't expecting radio silence. I didn't think I deserved that, quite honestly.

So here I am, jumping every time my phone has made a peep, and the only thing I have to show for it is a demand from Elliot to come to their house today. God knows what the hell he wants. He said something about watching football and bonding like men should. I made my excuses, and he threatened to call our mother. My life is a fucking joke.

I've already planned feigning a work emergency roughly fifteen minutes after arriving as I walk up to his front door. He must have been keeping watch, because he opens up before I'm there. "Welcome to the crib, Mr. Lonely!"

I feel I've earned that title in the last few months more than ever before. "Let's get this over with."

I hear the irritating squeal of my young niece, and then a familiar voice. "Come on, Ava, come to Grandma!"

Oh fuck. "You didn't mention that Mother would be joining us," I say through gritted teeth.

"She's here for the kid. And I thought it might be the only way to keep you from bolting," Elliot says matter-of-factly.

So, this is a hostage situation. "Where's your wife?"

"She's… driving back."

I'm not sure why he's suddenly all cagey, but I really don't give a fuck about what Kate is up to, so I open the fridge and grab a beer just as Grace walks in. "Christian! Darling! Oh, what a wonderful surprise. And you'll be here for—"

"The game! The Thursday night football game that we're going to watch," Elliot shouts over her. What the fuck?

"Oh. Football. Sounds lovely," she smiles nonchalantly, reaching into the fridge after me for the open bottle of sauvignon blanc. I rack my brain, but there's really no escape now.

Elliot brings us into his man cave room where Kate makes him keep his giant TV while Grace goes back to playing with the child. He keeps peeking at me out of the corner of his eye, and it's really irritating. I can barely focus on this shitshow of a game. He looks down once to check his phone, then leaps up. "Hey bro, how about another beer? Or some game snacks?"

"Uh, sure." Fuck the decorum, I might just leave. I'm not in the mood for this. I never really am, but especially not today.

I follow him to the kitchen, and I'm about to tell him that something came up and I have to go when the door adjoining to the garage opens down the hall. "Hello? We're home!"

"In here!" Elliot calls back.

Kate walks in dragging a large suitcase, and in step behind her is none other than the reason I'm so distracted. She's looking down at first, then as she looks up, her eyes widen and dart back and forth between me and Elliot.

"Well, hi, folks," Kate remarks, an undercurrent of amusement in her tone.

"Hey, Ana Banana. How was merry old England?" Elliot asks.

"It was… educational," Ana answers him, but she's looking at me.

"Auntie Ana!" Little Ava runs in and makes a beeline for her.

She bends down and scoops her up just as Grace enters. "Ana! So lovely to see you again. I hope you had a restorative trip."

"Grace! Hello. Wow, this is quite a full house," she says, a little breathless. And the question of my presence here and Elliot's strangeness begins to become less and less murky. I'm being set up. Even Kate doesn't seem surprised to see me, and I am rarely to be found in her house.

I stare at Ana, studying her face, while the background conversation continues. "Ava, Auntie Ana is probably sleepy. She got up super early to get on a plane," Kate chides. "Grace, can you watch her? I have some work calls I've been ignoring."

"Oh dear, I have to get going in a few minutes. I have a patient I said I'd go and check on."

"Oh, shoot."

"I could see if one of my friends is available?" she offers.

"Guys, come on, I'm right here," Elliot interjects. "Besides, Mom, haven't we learned that your friends are sketchy?"

Jesus fucking Christ. I rip my eyes away from her to stare daggers at Elliot. The moment Ana lands, the digging up the past begins. I hope against hope that she doesn't understand the reference, but I see both Kate and Grace's faces go pale. "Elliot. That is so not appropriate," Kate says, her voice quiet but steely.

Elliot has the grace to look somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry. Just a joke. Come on, Ava bear, let's go watch TV."

He leaves the room and I finally get back up the courage to move my gaze to Ana. Her eyes are wide with a glimmer of the past, but her face is fairly impassive. A classic poker face. She remembers what I told her, and she's likely connected the dots. More shit to explain… "Ana, go use your usual guest room," Kate directs. "You look like the walking dead, babe."

"I confess that I wouldn't mind a nap," she agrees.

She begins to collect her luggage in her arms, and my legs carry me forward in an instant. "Let me."

"I can—" I take the bag out of her hand, and her head snaps up so we're eye to eye. Something in my expression stops her argument. "Fine. Thank you."

"I'll see you later, then." I feel Kate eying me, but I keep my gaze fixed on Ana, and she goes away without further comment. Thank Christ.

"Good to see you, darling." Grace kisses me on the cheek. "Rest up, Ana. Welcome home."

Ana nods gratefully, then starts off towards the stairs. I pick up the bags and follow her, surprised by how swift she is in her jet-lagged state. I close the door of the guest room behind us as she sinks onto the edge of the bed. "I've never been one for surprises. I might end up having a cardiac event because of you." You didn't talk to me. Why?

She shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I booked the ticket, and on my way out the door to the airport, I dropped my phone on the concrete, and it was completely demolished. I figured I'd be home soon and you wouldn't have to wait too long, but then the flights kept getting delayed for weather and I was at the airport for almost two whole days. I borrowed someone's laptop long enough to ask Kate to pick me up, but I didn't know if your email was different now. So, it hasn't been a cakewalk for me, either, but I was thinking about you. I didn't mean to leave you hanging."

I feel my body sag with relief. It really was all in my head. Leave it to her to go days without an essential like a phone. I want to give her a lecture, but I'm finally in the same room as her. "You came back." I realize then that I haven't even greeted her yet, in my shock.

A smile touches her tired eyes. "It was never really a doubt." A sudden swell of emotion hits me, and I close the gap between us. "Was that about her?" she suddenly asks just before I can touch her.

I drop both my hand and my gaze. "Yes."

"They… know?"

"Not about me. There were… others." I haven't discussed this in quite some time, and never outside of therapy. I'm not unwilling to discuss it with her, but it feels strange.

She's silent for long enough that I look back at her. Her brows are knit together, her mouth slightly parted, and her eyes wide and full of sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Christian."

"This isn't what I wanted to talk about when I saw you again."

"What did you want to talk about?"

I run my hands through my hair. "Not here. Come to my apartment. Please." She bites her lip, and I can tell she's hesitating. I drop to a knee in front of her and gently tug her bottom lip from her teeth. "What is it?"

"I would like to do this somewhere more private, too. I'm just… really tired."

I relax. "You need sleep."

She shrugs. "I do."

"And then you'll come to me?"

"Yes."

"Good." I stand up, eager to let her go off to dreamland so I can have her back.

"Wait! Where are you going?" I turn and look at her, confused. Home, to wait for you. Where else would I be going? "I… won't you stay?" She pats the other side of the bed. "Or are you busy? I was just hoping—"

Not anymore. Not for this. "Always."

I see her shoulders relax. She was worried I didn't want to? Absurd. I slip my shoes off and get on top of the covers, curling up next to her. "I missed it," she murmurs, so low that I'm not sure I was supposed to hear.

"When you were gone?"

"The entire time I was gone. It was never… the same. I know that's awful to say. I was going to marry him. But being close to you like this always felt… like more."

More. It has always been more. "Sleep, sweetheart."

A/N: It's me, hi, apologizing again for taking so long to update (I'm the problem, it's me). It's never intentional, and then I see your reviews asking for more and I feel so bad! But here we go. They will talk very soon, and I PROMISE I will update before Thanksgiving at the latest. But hopefully in a few days. Soon!