This chapter leads on a couple of weeks after the end of Fifty Shades Freed's epilogue. The year is 2014.
I'm in a magical bliss. Our house on the Sound is beautiful. My son, Teddy, now 2 years old is beautiful. My husband of almost 3 years, beautiful. Are there things I would change about my life? Of course there are. I wouldn't want to be this insanely rich. I wouldn't choose to be CEO of my own firm. But I can live with those things.
It's Saturday morning and Mr Grey has woken me with pancakes and blueberries. I'm naked from last night's activities. My bump is huge now and I'll be excited to get the birth over and done with. I take the tray Grey offers me.
"How are you feeling?" Christian asks me, ever the attentive husband.
"Hungry," I grin as I make a start on my pancakes. He smiles at me, his copper hair falling in his face.
"That's what I like to see," he says with a smirk. I lean up and give Christian a kiss before finishing my pancakes.
"What would you like to do today?" He asks me with a small smile.
"You," I say with a smirk and Christian feigns outrage.
"Mrs Grey!" He exclaims. "How crass!" I giggle and he can't help but let a smile flood over his all American face, those beautiful white teeth on display.
I reach up to him, my mouth on his as he hungrily kisses me back. Christian pushes his fingers into my hair as he gains entry to my mouth, his tongue exploring. "Fuck, Ana," he whispers as he pushes my hair back, tugging at it. We're nose to nose, his breath on my face. "What you do to me," he murmurs. His erection is already visible in his pyjama bottoms.
"What shall I do to you?" I tease as I push him backwards. Christian complies, laid on the bed grinning up at me. I'm aware of the bump as I move to pull his pyjamas down, now constantly in my way. His erection springs free as he continues to watch.
"Sure you can manage?" He teases me as I straddle his legs. "Don't need my help?" His head is back on the duvet, despite being slim his chin almost double as he lays back watching me.
"Yes although if you can get this baby out of me, that would be a great help," my hands grip his hips and he shakes his head.
"I have heard sex can be very helpful," he smirks up at me, pushing his hips up a little.
"Hold still,"I tell him firmly and he outright laughs at me.
"So bossy," he teases me. I grin before moving to ease myself down over his length. Christian grunts underneath me, his pleasure obvious. I let out a low whimper as I start to move. He reaches his hands up and I take them as support as I start to move. This is far more strenuous than usual and Christian holds me up well.
"Can we switch?" I ask him hopefully as he smirks at me. He gives me a playful wink before sitting up and rolling us over, switching our positions entirely so he is straddling me before sliding back inside me. His eyes never leave mine.
"Better?" He asks me as I nod and he starts to move again. I finally catch his rhythm and we move together, our moans filling the bedroom. "Ana, I'm so close," he breathes.
His thrusts become more urgent as I bring my hips up to meet his, feeling my own body building. I'm aware I'm tightening around him as he grabs my wrists, holding me firmly as my body starts to quiver and Christian loses himself inside me. I cry out as I come, my legs wrapping firmly around him. Christian falls sideways, careful to avoid the bump.
"Thank you," I whisper as he smirks beside me.
"You need to take it a bit easier," he says gently, rubbing my stomach. "Eight months you should be slowing down," he adds as he sits up carefully, knowing I am sensitive about this. Christian wanted me to stop working about a month ago but I love Grey Publishing, and I'd rather spend my leave with the baby than alone at home. Of course, since Christian bought the company I could take as much leave as I want, but that is not the point.
"I'm okay still. I feel good," I say sitting up and walking to our bathroom. I shower and dress in a long floaty dress as Christian pulls on jeans and a button down.
"Shall we go visit my family today?" He asks towelling his hair dry. It's the longest he has ever had it and it falls nicely into his grey eyes, still short at the back. I watch him tousle it up so it has that natural, messy look he likes.
"That would be nice. Ted would like to see Grandma and Grandad," I nod. Teddy adores both sets of grandparents and I know my mom is devastated not to live closer to see them more. I go to wake our little boy, putting him in denim shorts and a navy polo, helping him fasten his sneakers. Our son is learning fast and already doing so well in pre-K. The school we have chosen, The Little School, is one of the best in our area and he is coming on in leaps and bounds.
Taylor drives the three of us to Bellevue where Christian's parents reside. Their home is beautiful, a little on the water and with plenty of gardens, like our place on the Sound. Taylor drives us through the gates to the house and Grace hurries out to greet us, arms open.
Grace is in her late fifties and is simply beautiful. Her slick brunette hair is nearly always up in an elegant do and she looks well put together no matter what she wears, today a chiffon dress in an emerald green. She picks our little copper haired boy up straight away, kissing his curls as he giggles delightedly. Carrick is a little older than Grace and follows her out, kissing me on each cheek before offering Christian his hand. My husband shakes it before following his parents inside.
Christian and Carrick haven't been close since he was a boy, although I know the pre-nup debate before our wedding certainly drove a wedge between them. I think Carrick constantly expects Christian to mess up and rue his decision. I always sense a mutual coldness between them, something which deeply saddens me.
Grace has Teddy in the living room and is helping him get set up with the Hornby train set they bought him on his second birthday. He keeps it here and loves building it with his grandparents. Christian heads out and I know he is making business calls.
"So how is the last month going?" Carrick asks me kindly as he returns with a squash for Teddy and a cup of tea for me, which I gratefully take.
"I'm feeling okay. Your son is constantly hovering," I say with a smile, watching Christian through the French doors as he walks up and down, typical as always pushing his hand through his hair. I've tried for nearly two years now to cut down on Christian's business calls at the weekend, scared about the levels of stress he puts himself under and also missing spending time with him. Each attempt has been unsuccessful.
"You know he worries," Grace says to me gently as I nod with a small smile, setting my tea on their side table. Teddy is busy setting a train on the tracks and isn't listening to us.
"He wants me to stop working," I continue as Christian sits on the garden table, resting one foot on a chair. He wants me to remain as CEO but to make no actual business decisions. He wants me to have the title without any of the work. Bring executives and step back. If he wants me to have a company, I will at least commit to running it.
"Well I suppose that is up to you, but he might not be wrong," Grace says slowly and I know that Christian has already spoken to her. I take a deep intake of breath, not expecting to get to this so quickly.
"I feel completely fine in myself," I reassure them, internally cussing Christian as he waves at us through the window.
"Have you considered a c-section?" Grace suggests gently and I feel myself bristle. Yes, Christian has definitely spoken to Grace. This has been his favourite topic since we found out I was expecting but it has only intensified the last couple of months.
"Grace," I say gently, not wanting to cause any offence. "I really want to have a natural birth."
"I know you do, Ana," she says gently, smoothing Teddy's curls. "But after, you know, what happened the first time."
"I know, Grace, I do. Christian has had our ob-gyn tell us, Dr Internet and he may have mentioned it on one more than one occasion," I shake my head a little and Grace looks contrite, Carrick awkward.
"We're just thinking of you and the baby," Grace says gently. I can see genuine concern in her eyes as she looks to me and then to her son outside who is chewing one of his finger nails, a trait he seems to have acquired during this second pregnancy to help him with the stress.
"Christian worries too much. I'm fine," I say firmly, my voice raising slightly and I think it travels. I see Christian frown from his position on the table and I match his expression with a scowl. His eyebrows raise a little but he continues to talk, his hand moving as he explains something in great depth.
"Grace, it's not our place to make these decisions," Carrick says calmly as Grace nods, moving to help Teddy with the engine house. I see Christian hang up and I walk outside, closing the French doors behind me.
"Ana?" He asks in surprise, his burnished copper hair glinting in the sunlight. Even after all this time, I still want to just reach up and run my hands through it. To hold his face and kiss his worries away. But his worries right now are making my life exceptionally difficult. And now he has his parents involved.
"Can you please stop involving your parents every time you want your own way?" I snap irritably.
"My own way?" Christian asks in surprise. Don't play dumb, Mr Grey. Christian can practically read my mind. And given he's asked his parents to speak to me, he's obviously left the room to let them have that conversation with me. A business call at 11am on a weekend is hardly a coincidence.
"About the c-section," I say angrily. "I know that's what you want. But it is my body!"
"And my baby!" He snaps back, standing from his position sat on the table. He half jumps, his sneakers hitting the deck with a thud, his hands going straight to his hips. My back is to the glass and I don't know if Grace and Carrick are watching us.
"I get that, Christian, I do! But it is my child too. And a six week recovery period where I can barely pick my newborn child up! That's the best time to bond!" I'm getting worked up now. He is so focused on the risks of a natural birth he never sees the downsides of a c section. Or else he sees them and dismisses them.
"Firstly, we have Hope for day to day care. You hardly need to be scooping this child up all the time!" Christian begins with a tone of rage. I cut him off. Turns out his concerns are the latter.
"I want to be holding the baby. I want to be a hands on mom! Even if you want to disappear off to work," I spit. I know I shouldn't go there but I can't help myself. He's a busy man and I know he loves Teddy. He just needs to be there more.
"Don't blame me for working! I was there as much as I could be for Ted! You know how much I have to do!" He shouts at me, and I know for sure Grace and Carrick can hear us.
"That doesn't mean going back to work two days after I gave birth! You have the world at your feet. Use that to spend time with your own child!" I bite back at him and he shakes his head.
"You are the one putting our baby at risk!" He points his finger at me. "Have a fucking c-section, Ana. This isn't all about you!" I snort with derision. It's not all about him either.
The doors open and Grace and Carrick walk out on to the patio, clearly keen to stop their son's tirade. Christian's head swings towards them as I turn to face them.
"Christian, give it a rest. You've made your point," Carrick says calmly.
"Just fuck off dad!" Christian shouts at Carrick. He looks like he's been slapped and the air remains remarkably, eerily silent. Teddy is stood in the doorway of the French doors, looking close to tears.
Carrick takes a deep break, apprising his son over his glasses. Christian looks as defiant as ever, his hands balled into fists at his sides. He always knows how to make everything dramatic. "Son. You are 30 years old. Surely it's about time you learn to control your temper," Carrick says without malice in his voice.
Carrick turns and walks back into the house, taking Ted's hand and closing the door. Christian and I are stood on the patio with Grace, who looks unimpressed with her youngest son. Christian pushes his hair back before aiming a kick at the patio bench, knocking it over. I see a look of unhappiness cross Grace's beautiful face.
"Christian, what is going on?" She asks him, I suspect in the most gentlest way she can manage. "I thought we got past this."
"I am sick of no one listening to me," he snaps and I scoff.
"Everyone listens to you, all day, every day!" I snap at him. "It's an endless narcissistic drone!" Christian's eyebrows shoot up and even Grace looks shocked. I could blame it on hormones but I suspect it is 6 months of being nagged about a c section coming on a head, with Christian getting both of his parents on side too now.
"I think he means about the c-section, Ana," Grace says in a gentle voice. Like I'm the one out of control here? "I just think he feels that no one is paying attention to it being his child too," she says as Christian scowls. I can't believe that this is happening.
"Grace. I understand that it is his child. But in the nicest way possible. It's not coming out of his penis, is it? I'm giving birth. I'm recovering," I say shaking my head in disbelief. Grace looks embarrassed at the mention of her son's genitals.
"Ana, I know, he just wants a joint conversation," she tries again. Like she thinks we haven't had one? Christian has clearly tried to rope her in last minute.
"Grace. We have had many joint conversations about the pros and cons. Your lovely son knows this," I shake my head and Grace looks a little embarrassed. Yep, Christian did not mention this at all.
"Okay, well I apologise, Ana," she says clearly uncomfortable being in between us. "I agree it is your body and I understand your choice. I do agree with Christian's concerns though," she says in what is the softest voice she can manage.
"Thank you," I mutter, before heading inside where Carrick is sat with Teddy on the floor. He gives me a small smile.
"I'm sorry, Ana," Carrick says gently as I smile.
"Don't worry. I know your hearts are in the right place," I say calmly, knowing for certain Carrick will have wanted no part of this. Christian and Grace are continuing to talk on the deck as Teddy plays with his toys.
"Mummy," he asks as he looks up and I smile. "Why is daddy mean?" He asks me and I shake my head.
"Daddy isn't mean," I say quickly. "Daddy can just sometimes be a little cross. That's all."
Teddy looks up at me, his blue eyes bright. His eyes are just like mine. It's the only difference to his dad. He chews his lip. "Daddy is mean on the phone."
"Daddy doesn't mean to be," I say settling on the floor, aware Carrick looks worried as I help my son arrange the trains in the engine house. Teddy looks unconvinced but focuses on his trains, starting one up and clapping his hands delightedly as it goes around the track. I laugh as he stands to follow it around, clearly enjoying his game. He is as mercurial as his father.
Grace follows Christian in around half an hour later, my husband touching my shoulder. "Can we talk?" He says very quietly as I stand and follow him out of the room, through to another living room. He wraps his arms around me and kisses me on my cheek. I rub his lower back.
"I'm really sorry," he murmurs in my ear. "I shouldn't have tried to get my mom to convince you."
"No you shouldn't," I say firmly as he leans back, regarding me, those grey eyes filled with fear.
"Ana, I just. I'm scared. I'm sorry," he whispers at me, the pain etched in his pale face. His fear of losing me is what is overwhelming his decision, it's not about him getting a say in his child's birth. He just wants me to be safe, like always. But there are some things he can't control. I shake my head.
"Christian, I know. And if it gets to a point where either me, or the baby, is in danger. I will have a c section. But I want to try. You understand?" I ask him gently. Christian chews his lip, contemplating my point.
"Yeah," he says eventually, unable to hide his childlike stubbornness from his voice. He keeps his hands on my hips as he watches my face. I stare back in to his, his copper hair falling into those gorgeous grey eyes.
"You owe your dad an apology," I add and he drops his hands, taking a step back and running a hand through his hair. He doesn't answer me. "Christian," I add in an almost warning tone. He might think he calls the shots, but I call just as many as he does.
He shrugs his shoulders and eventually nods, going to leave. "And you need to talk to Ted," I add. Might as well drop this bomb now, no point waiting for him to calm down and then reignite his temper at a later date.
"About?" He asks, stopping with his hand on the door handle. His shoulders slump.
"He thinks you're mean. He's overhead phone calls Christian," I add and my husband looks pissed again.
"What phone calls?" He barks. He looks genuinely puzzled and it dawns on me Christian probably doesn't even think he's being nasty. He probably thinks that he is so powerful, it is okay to treat people in the way he does. I could sit and tell him it's never okay but that's a different argument. And he'll pay it no due anyway.
"I don't know. Work ones I guess. I've told him you're not. But he's picking everything up now, you need to be careful," I say slowly, not wanting to set him off again.
"Fucking hell," he hisses through his teeth, turning and stalking out of the door. I shake my head but am relieved when I hear Christian talking to Teddy later that night.
My husband has taken his son to his room after I've done bathtime, and I've heard him reading a story to him. I listen by the door as I hear Teddy giggle throughout the story as Christian does exaggerated voices for him.
"Shall we settle you?" I hear Christian ask quietly. "Mommy says you're upset with me." My heart constricts a little. Christian sounds genuinely devastated to have hurt his first born. I know he is disappointed in himself, like he has become the father he always feared that he would be. Why he didn't want a baby at all.
"I'm not upset daddy," Teddy says back to my husband as I hear Christian pulling the duvet up around our son and smoothing it down. Christian doesn't answer for a while and I know he doesn't know how to handle what he has to say. I know he would never want Ted to think of him as mean. He does try to be a decent father really and I know that deep down.
"Mommy says you think I'm mean? Because sometimes I shout?" Christian asks. I hear him sit back down. There is a long pause.
"On the phone," Teddy tells him eventually.
"Well. Sometimes daddy does shout. And he shouldn't," he adds carefully. "You know it's not nice to shout, Ted?" Christian asks our two year old.
"Yes. Do you?"
I try to stifle my laugh at my son's bluntness. Most people wouldn't dare to address the Christian Grey in this manner and I do all I can to hold in my amusement. "I do know, Teddy. But I need to do better to remember it," Christian continues and I can tell from the edge in his voice he has heard me. I step away from the door, back to our room. He joins me 10 minutes later.
"I guess you enjoyed my conversation?" He asks me with a playful grin as he climbs into bed, cuddling me close.
"I enjoyed you getting put in your place by a two year old," I tease him as I rest my head on his chest. I feel him laugh against me.
When Phoebe arrives a month later, I have a successful natural birth with no complications. I also enjoyed putting Christian Grey in his place post birth.