A/N: This chapter is a mashup of lyrics, too many to credit. I've tried setting limits such as one song per chapter. But, my muse hates rules and the tried and true. So, now I'm just letting her do whatever she wants!
Reminder: Christian is Tesla's CEO, although his net worth is more modest than Elon Musk's.
Chapter Fifteen: I Can't Tell You Why.
The main lyrics for this chapter are from Mandolin Range, the Bruce Hornsby version. The chapter title comes from I Can't Tell You Why by The Eagles. BTW, I've compiled my playlist through keyword searches and not by music style.
Taking shelter under the carnival tent, he and Ana watched boats steaming in and the sidewheel spin. A group of musician played a sad song that drifted low on their fancy mandolins.
Watching the Ferris wheel go round and round, they shared blue cotton candy. He hadn't expected it to be so light and sticky. It's my first time, he told her, and she laughed merrily at the funny face he made. She couldn't believe he'd never been to the county fair or had cotton candy.
Ana fell in love with a white and pink unicorn they saw. He automatically pulled out his wallet. She said no; he had to win it fair and square, no cheating. Boy, he truly sucked at this. Ha. So this is why your average Joe was always broke, losing twelve ring toss games in a row!
Christian couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun.
He was laughing at something she'd said when suddenly, she turned to him and said: I have to go. What you did is unforgivable.
All along, he'd known she'd go; that was a choice he made long ago.
Listen to the mandolin rain. Listen to the music on the lake. Ah, listen to my heart break every time she runs away. Listen to the tears roll down my face as she turns to go...As she turns to go.
The sky got dark, and it had begun to rain. Just like last time, she left in the pouring rain.
The next thing he knew, they were in bed, and he sighed a sigh of relief that she'd decided to give him another chance. They made love and basked in the afterglow. But then, all of a sudden, Leila appeared. What-the-heck? He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, the witch aimed her revolver at Ana's heart. NO! He screamed, diving in front of Ana to block the bullet. To his horror, there was a see-through hole large enough to fit his hand where his heart had once been. Nothing compared, however, to the greater horror of seeing Ana's body sprawled on the bed, a pool of blood around her. He quickly moved and grabbed the sheets to put pressure around the wound. She was losing so much blood that the sheets, the entire spongy comforter, and the entire bed were soaked through. Oh, God, OH GOD!
He should have known this would happen. He should have known! But that was a choice he made a long time ago.
...
"Christian?"
He woke up with a start in cold sweat and utterly disoriented.
"Wh-what?"
Ana reached over in the semi-darkness and snuggled closer to him.
"You were having a nightmare."
When his eyes focused on her face, he remembered the ugly parts.
"You wanna tell me about it?"
Christian was quiet for a long time, his head buried in the crook of her neck. At last, he spoke.
"I dreamed something horrible happened to you."
Ana lifted her head and met his gaze.
"What happened?"
He pursed his lips and said nothing.
"Did I die in your dream?" She said more of a statement than a question.
She continued pressing him for details, but the more she insisted, the more he resisted.
Holding her tight, he buried his face in her hair once again. He was too shaken to speak certain that it was more than just a bad dream; it was more like a bad omen of things to come.
Later
Tomorrow morning school was back in session. In preparation, Christian's security team was actively collaborating with Centegix, the leading expert in technology and services designed to keep businesses and school campuses safe.
"These extra layers of security mean all the difference in the world. Every teacher and staff will carry a panic button integrated into their employee ID, allowing them to initiate a real-time campus alert to first responders with exact locations for all emergencies."
"I wish more schools had access to this type of security," Ana mused as if she'd read his mind.
"We are expanding security services to the nearby public schools. Unfortunately, it's going to take some time. We need to cut through layers of red tape and special interests. The good news is that more states are adopting Alyssa's law."
Ana bridged the distance between them for a warm hug.
"That's good news. Principal Johnson sent me a thank you email. Although, I don't know how I feel about our name being added to the donor wall."
"Private schools thrive on donations, sweetheart."
"I know. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate the upgrades. It's just that I can never be sure if I'm being evaluated for my own performance and not by the digits on my bank account."
"You worry too much."
Ana relaxed into his embrace. "I do," she murmured, pecking his lips. "Thank you. I appreciate all the time and effort you've put into this..."
Later
Christian pushed his food around his dinner plate distractedly. An entire week had passed since he'd seen Bella. He'd told them he needed time to sort things out and reach out to them soon. The pressure was building, and the clock in his head was ticking louder and louder.
He half-listened as Ana informed him that Mia was breaking things off with Ethan and her plans to study culinary arts in Italy, tunning out most of the details. His focus returned when she switched the subject back to herself.
"I'm so looking forward to work tomorrow...I was starting to get bored."
"Bored? I thought you were working on a new novel."
"I am," Ana said in between forkfuls of her meatloaf. "It's just that writing is such a lonely activity. Teaching gives me a greater sense of purpose."
Christian's expression suddenly darkened.
"Teaching is becoming a hazardous job with all the random school shootings... "
Ana bit her lip.
"Life offers no guarantees, sweetheart. I get you're worried, but we cannot live our lives scared."
"That doesn't mean we shouldn't try to play it safe. Have you thought about taking a break from teaching?"
"A break? I was already on a break. I believe it's called summer."
"I mean a long-term break."
She looked at him as though he'd lost his mind.
"I can't take a break from teaching. I'm having Michael again this year. His parents and the school agreed to hold him back. I mean, he doesn't really qualify for special ed, but I've been researching this, I think I can help him."
Christian rolled his eyes.
"I hate to break it to you. Times have changed. You don't teach in a one-room schoolhouse, and your name isn't Laura Ingalls Wilder."
"Don't you see?"
"Also, I made some security-related changes here at home as well. From now on, Taylor will be your security. He will accompany you everywhere."
"But who's going to protect you?"
"Sawyer."
"But you trust Taylor more...?!
"Exactly."
Ana shook her head.
Yes, Taylor was more than just his number one; he was his best friend. But that didn't mean Taylor wasn't without flaws. He dropped the ball that night. To this day, Taylor couldn't give him a complete account of Ryan's actions three days prior. In the end, a judge found that most of the evidence gathered against Ryan was poorly documented and inadmissible in a court of law.
Some troubling questions remained unanswered, such as why didn't Taylor send someone to check on him sooner. Human error aside, technical issues were easier to manage. Christian hoped the recent upgrades and partnership with Centegix would help avoid further incidents.
As to trusting Taylor more than Sawyer, Taylor was the devil he knew. Taylor had worked for him for seven years without incidents whereas Sawyer was a newbie. And while Sawyer was ex-FBI and came with spotless recommendations, he'd only started working for him four months ago.
"Ana, Ana. Listen! If you and I ever crashed on a deserted island, I would slay the polar bears and save you the juiciest mango."
Ana bit her lip to hide the tiniest of smiles.
"But what about you? I bet there's more than one nutjob out there waiting for the perfect opportunity...especially now that you're in the middle of this awful controversy."
"Which one?" Christian quipped, surprising himself.
In truth, he was all too aware of the issues the public could hate him for. Starting with his endorsement of coin, including his comment about Lithium as 'the new oil' and his participation in clean energy debates.
"Christian...promise me you won't endorse either side."
"You can't ask me that. I can't remain neutral forever, I have to do what's best for Tesla."
Ana shook her head, disapproval etched across her face.
"It doesn't even matter which side. You will be hated regardless. It's like you thrive on being hated."
"There will always be people that hate me because I'm not like them, and I'm not obsessed with the likes and dislikes I get."
"How about a happy medium? You still do what needs to be done, but don't engage in major controversies."
"Are you saying I'm going out of my way to prove others wrong?"
"I didn't say that."
"Good, because I don't waste energy on hopeless causes. People will always hate those who disagree on any subject regardless of whether it's considered a 'major controversy' as you say. I'll be damned either way, so I'm not taking any surveys."
Mrs. Jones appeared and asked if she could be of further service. They hired her a couple of months ago, and on an interesting side note, she and Taylor were now together.
"I'm ready for dessert," he said, "What are we having tonight?"
Christian chose a slice of cheesecake. Ana asked for a low-sugar scoop of old-fashioned vanilla ice cream.
They enjoyed a few moments of silence before Ana rekindled the subject matter.
"I don't think you need to do any surveys...the only opinion you need is mine. Whatever decision you make affects me as well."
"Of course."
"What makes you think making a stand is in Tesla's best interest? What about Market shares? Consumers may be already making negative associations..."
"Market shares have been falling for a different reason. I get that consumers are disappointed with the hassle of charging their vehicles, but, I'm working on making things more convenient for the average person."
"I don't know what else to say to get through to you." She reached for his hand across the table. Do you want me to worry about you?"
"Of course not."
"Then promise me you won't get involved in politics."
She was asking for the impossible. Electric vehicles were supposed to be a big part of the solution to the planet's demise. In time, he learned he'd opened a Pandora's box with too many variables and incompatible interests. Even if he wanted to, there was no way he could untangle himself from that mess.
Suddenly, his lips curved into a slow smile. "I won't make any public statements for now...but only if you agree to switch...you take Taylor, and I take Sawyer. Deal?"
"Deal."
...
The first day of school came and went. Two days later, Christian found Ana in the study reading a teacher's manual in her favorite armchair and with a stack of children's picture books on the side table. Even though he wasn't an expert, he knew the books were too basic for Ana's students. On closer inspection, he noted the I-belong-to label on the front colorful cover.
"Who is Sienna?"
Ana set her book down on top of the stack.
"That's Vivian's daughter..."
Aw. Yes. Ana's needy friend.
"Sienna is a beautiful name."
"Vivian's sitter bailed out on her so Sienna spent the afternoon with me. Vivian also has a little boy. On Saturdays, Trevor stays at his grandma's. The kids have different fathers."
"I see," Christian mumbled, rapidly losing interest, sitting in the armchair across from hers.
Ana pursed her lips. "She's five and very well-behaved. I met her mom two years ago..." Ana paused, "At my OB-gyn appointment."
She waited until his eyes flashed with recognition before continuing.
"Did I mention that before?"
"I don't think so," he mumbled. He would have remembered something like that. He had the sinking feeling there was more to this story and that she was about to enlighten him.
She spoke again right when he was about to look something up on his phone.
"Christian?"
"Yes?"
"I lost something that day."
Christian cocked his head cluelessly.
"Don't ask me how I know; I can't explain it. All I know is that I lost a child that day. There was no heartbeat yet, a tiny blip. But, I've never forgotten her."
Ana blinked back the tears, determined not to let them flow.
"I had no idea," he murmured stupidly, hating himself more than ever.
"Every once in a while, I think of her. My sienna, OUR Sienna."
Shit!
If it rains at eleven, it will last until seven!
What a 'fine' time to tell her: Hey, I have a daughter with Leila. Don't know how it happened...but now I have a child who, against incredible odds, was allowed to live.
Christian crossed the distance between them, crouching down for a hug. Much to his surprise, she pushed him away and walked to the window.
"Don't hide your tears from me, baby. I'm sorry," he trailed off.
"Sorry for what?" She suddenly turned to face him. "If we could go back, would you have changed a thing?" Her blue orbs sparked with emotion, "I bet not."
If he could turn back time... if he could find a way... he'd write a better ending.
He would choose Sienna over Bella.
But unfortunately, the last time he checked, the red cape on his back fell unattached. He was far from a superhero.
"I can't stand it when you're upset at me."
She gave him a painful look before wandering to their bedroom. He figured she needed space and waited a few minutes before joining her.
By the time he crossed the threshold, she was in bed under the covers, staring into space.
He went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and showered. By the time he climbed in bed, clad in boxers and a t-shirt, she had turned off the lights and lay facing away from his side of the bed.
Once he slid under the covers, he snuggled up to her backside, his mouth against her ear. Ana was usually such a heavy sleeper she could sleep through the most obnoxious alarm. He held her tighter and sniffed her shampoo, wishing he'd never have to let go.
She stirred and moved his hand to cup her breast. Hmm. Yes. Reaching through the front of her gown, he gave her a tiny, tiny fingertip massage. When, at last, his fingertips drifted south over her pelvis to cup her mound, she let out a hiss and arched her body, letting him know she was fully awake. Not aimed at quick arousal, his slow, steady caresses continued soothing away any resistance on her part.
With a deep sigh, he kissed the back of her neck and lingered there, his hands slipping to her backside, then brushed slowly up her body and pushed her nightgown up as he went, bunching it at the shoulders. Then, tracing soft circles against the backs of her thighs, he moved to stroke her center once again. This time, however, she swiftly removed her panties and tossed them aside.
His hands traveled on, slowly moving over her bottom as he took his time stroking her round curves. She moaned as the soft circles continued. At last, he shifted her against him until her bottom nestled perfectly in between his hips. She shivered, and her breathing became soft little pants. Arching her back against his chest, she reached to wrap her arm around his neck. This gave him perfect access to her breasts, and so he continued pampering them until she turned around for a mind-blowing kiss.
Their lips locked in a fiery embrace, and he rolled on top of her. This was by far his favorite position with her: Good old-fashioned missionary. And when he coupled their bodies, he claimed her with a sudden urgency as if afraid he would run out of time, determined to love her as though there were no more promised tomorrows. Oh, God, how he loved the sounds that she made. Even as they rode the waves of ecstasy, he was losing her. The slipperiness of her center was causing him to lose sensation. And so he unexpectedly withdrew, and she groaned in protest. She reached for him greedily, their lips connecting in a slow sensual kiss. They hissed in unison, loud and wild, as their bodies rejoined. This time, the pacing was slower and deeper, vibrating and prolonging the earth-shattering orgasm that followed beyond anything he had ever experienced.
"This was incredible," she crooned happily, her eyes hazy with satisfaction. "Tomorrow night, I want it EXACTLY like this. Don't forget!"
Christian blinked in surprise. Her words hit him hard as if he felt something die.
How could he possibly forget?
Forgetting IS the hardest part.
Although a piece of him held a little hope, he already felt like a ghost.
"What's wrong?" Ana frowned.
It took him a long time to swallow the frog that had lodged in his throat. Never again would Ana look at him with the same love and devotion.
"You have to be up early."
"I know, but I'm not sleepy yet."
Kissing the top of her forehead, he held her closer, wishing for time to be frozen still.
"Ana?" He murmured after a long while, his mind suddenly on overdrive.
"Hmm...?"
"You know how you want to teach the kids to read but don't care much about the other subjects?"
"Whoa!" Ana protested. "It's not exactly like that!"
"It is exactly like that," he countered, "I never hear you talk enthusiastically about science or mathematics... so why not focus on what you're truly passionate about?"
Ana propped herself on one elbow, meeting his gaze.
"What do you have in mind, Mr. Grey?"
"How about we open a literacy center for people with dyslexia? I'm thinking of a small center. We can hire other professionals for support, but you would be the star tutor. We're not looking to make a profit, just a place where you can work and feel like you're making a difference."
Ana's eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously?"
"Just say the word."
...
Hours later, Christian was wide awake still. Funny how the tables had reversed. While Ana slept soundly, he waged war against the pillows. But this was a war he could never win. So he gave up, shuffled to his study, and stretched out on his favorite recliner. After an hour of misery, he grabbed his iPad and opened a new document.
Staring at the blank page before him, he wished for something to illuminate the words he could not find. Bella's life had just begun; the rest was still unwritten.
Should he hire a nanny or send her to the best British boarding school...for toddlers?
A stroke of the stylus and the last option appeared. Except...
There was no way Ana would ever forgive him. There was no way she would ever believe he hadn't enjoyed it. And if he had enjoyed it, then he had cheated. That logic applied, even if he had no memory of enjoying any part of it.
Any enjoyment he derived from the unmentionable act was unacceptable; just thinking about it made him break out in a cold sweat. He was determined to carry the secret to his grave. He'd told no one about it, not even Dr. Flynn.
It was time to face the truth. There was no way he could have it all. Like a fool, he kept losing his place. And he could no longer stay where he was.
Once Ana learned about Bella, she would hate him. No matter what he did, she would hate him just the same.
He climbed back in bed, thinking he didn't have to lose her; he could have it all.
They made love once again, and her sex took him to paradise. How he wished they hadn't been interrupted by she-devil in disguise.
Security alarms started blasting, and no signs of Taylor.
"I killed them all!" Leila threw her head back and laughed.
Son-of-a-bitch!
It all happened too fast.
BANG
Bullets rained. Christian stared in horror at the hole in his chest. The hole was see-through, his entire hand snaked through the hole. By some miracle, he wasn't even bleeding.
By the time he looked up again, Leila had disappeared.
A Sickening silence.
Ana? It's okay, she's gone.
His heart pounded with dread. Why wasn't she answering? Very slowly, he turned behind him. She was lying on the bed unconscious, a large pool of blood underneath her head.
"You killed me!" Ana's voice hissed at him.
Wait.
She wasn't dead; she was talking to him.
Christian's black shoes stepped out of the limousine and onto the grass field. Searching faces, he got closer to the gravesite, and a feeling of dread settled in his heart. Clad in a Superman suit, he was mortified to step forward, too much of a coward to ask whose funeral it was.
His dread grew, threatening to steal his last breath, even as he searched for Ana in the sea of faces that looked upon him with great pity.
She's gone, Grace said, her voice eerily serene.
NO. NO!
Unbelievably, his own mother was lying to him.
Ana had to be here, somewhere.
To his right, a bluegrass band dressed in black tuxedos started playing the mandolin. Goodbye, Anastasia, goodbye. I knew all along one day you would go.
To his left, a group of violinists stepped forward, their bows raised high. Dressed in his classic washed-out country boy attire, John Denver appeared and performed Annie's song. Let me lay down beside you like a sleepy blue ocean. Let me always be with you like a walk in the rain.
He should have known this would happen. He should have known! But that was a choice he'd made a long time ago.
The light drizzle turned into rain. The musicians went on with their performance drenched as they were like those brave Titanic survivors.
Suddenly, there was shouting.
It was Ray coming at him with his fists.
You did this, you son of a bitch! My baby is dead. You did this!
Soon, everyone in attendance echoed his words, including his greatest supporters: Grace, Carrick, and Mia.
Ana's coffin was lowered and covered in dirt.
The air began to shift, and the rain turned into a tsunami. Even the sky seemed to agree he deserved all this hate.
Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, his eyes caught sight of the great hateful one. Leila, dressed in bright red, eyes blazing fire. The bitch had accomplished what she set out to do; killing Anastasia was the ultimate revenge.
He should have seen it coming; he failed to protect her, and now she was dead.
Chasing Leila through mud and rain, Christian was able to catch up with her just as they neared the edge of the cliff. At last, he had her cornered. In a surprise move, he stabbed her over and over again with a large butcher knife. He breathed a sigh of relief. But, the bitch didn't die; bloodied as she was, she had enough strength to come after him with his own knife.
He jolted awake, sweating buckets, relief flooding his veins. Heart still pounding, he left the study and rushed to the bedroom. Making a beeline for his closet he shoved his clothes into a large suitcase. Realizing there wasn't enough room for everything he owned, he gathered the rest in their hangers, returned to his study, and tossed them unceremoniously into the broom closet.