Chapter 13

Ana

"So… it just felt right. I mean, I feel like I spent five years with the wrong person waiting for my life to move in the direction I wanted it to. Now I'm with the right person and I've just been standing in my own way. I know that the timeline is weird, maybe, but I guess it's not that weird for us. And really, when am I going to just start living for myself and just stop worrying about what everyone else thinks?"

"Well, Ana…" Heather sets her notebook down in her lap and leans forward in her chair, a proud smile on her face. "Take a bow. This is great progress. And what does Christian think?"

I smile. "He was excited." Beyond excited.

"I'm sure he was. Have you two come up with a plan together?"

"I mean, my lease isn't up for about seven months. So, there's no huge rush. But we've only been back for one night so far and I spent it with him. Things are moving in the right direction. I'd like to kind of take my time with it. I'll stay with him, but I've done enough moves to know that they're stressful, so I'd rather take it slow."

"That sounds reasonable. But it seems like things are going in a direction that's moving towards where you ultimately want to be."

I shrug. "I want to be with him." And for some reason, he wants me, too. "The rest is negotiable."

"Alright, that's our time for today. Next week okay?" I nod. "Take care. I'll see you then."

"See you. Thanks."

As I walk out onto the now-dimmed evening streets of Seattle, I fill my lungs to capacity and then let it out. I'm surprised at how well I can just breathe now that I'm not going directly against what I know I really want. I mean, look at us. Fate brought us together for such a short time, then ripped us apart for what felt like ages, and now we're here again. Who'd have thunk? I'd be an idiot not to seize the moment now.

"Ana," Sawyer calls.

I turn around. "Oh. I'm sorry, Luke." I was so lost in thought, I ended up walking right past him. I keep forgetting that I have a bodyguard/driver/babysitter. Because literally, who has that?

People who are loved by Christian Grey.

It's a good trade.

"Where to?" he asks.

"My apartment. My old apartment," I amend. "I need to grab a few things."

"Coming right up." The half-smile on his face reinforces what I've already gathered as of late… his staff is pretty happy about this development. Taylor's eyes had a twinkle that's rarely seen when Christian told him, and Mrs. Jones didn't hold back her exuberance when he let her know the news when we returned. I even got some weird looks from the housekeeper back in Aspen, like I was some mythical creature who swooped in and turned her boss made of stone into a man again. It's starting to feel like I was the only one who ever had doubts about it.

Still… it's the end of an era. I feel a sort of fondness for my old space. I really started to fall in love with Christian there. Or was that under a tree, ten years ago? I still don't know. But I started to come into my own and realize some hard truths. Even during the tumultuous times, I made this place my own and it was my refuge. It was all mine. Either way, I'm content to let go of the ghosts of the past, but this part of it wasn't all bad. If I'm lucky, it was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I can go myself. You wait here," I tell Sawyer as we pull up in front of the building.

"Are you sure? Mr. Grey—"

"I know, I know, I just want one minute. I'm just grabbing a few things and then I'll be down."

He sighs heavily. "One minute, for real." I think I'm going to end up giving this man gray hair. Actually, Grey hairs. It's his fault.

"For real," I call back to him, then take the steps up two at a time. I'm just grabbing some of my nighttime things when I see my mailbox key hanging by the door. I realize that I haven't checked in about a week, so I dump the armful of things I have onto the couch and head across the hall to my block of mailboxes.

Bill… credit card offer… some shit on sale… bill… as I flip through, my hand suddenly freezes when I recognize some very familiar handwriting.

I space out hard and I don't know how long I stand there until the feeling of the paper against my fingertips comes back into my awareness. I let out the breath I was apparently holding and slam my mailbox shut, running back to my apartment and shutting the door. I fall against it as soon as it's closed, sinking to the floor and ripping the envelope open with shaking hands.

Ana,

I know I'm probably not supposed to be sending this, but with the way my life is going, I can't really give a fuck anymore. I'll just get right to the point. I fucked up. I know you're with him. I know I didn't give you what you needed when we were together. But I just thought we'd go the distance. I don't know what happened. I guess I thought you'd always be there. I just trusted that we'd end up together and I forgot to keep putting in the work that you deserve, babe. The truth is, I need some serious help. Music wasn't getting the money that I thought it would and what I did just seemed like an easy way out. And what you walked in on, that's just how business worked. None of them meant anything to me.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're still the one, Banana. Remember when me and Jose used to call you that when we were freshmen? All this history we have together, and I know I threw it away and I deserve the fact that you've moved on, but please babe, just think about it. I'll serve my time, I'll go to rehab, and I'll be the faithful guy that you deserve. It can still be you and me. Listen, I get why you're with him. You're set for life now, and that's hard to pass up. But all the shit we talked about back then, being together and having the family and the house? It doesn't have to end. Music can still work out if I just work at it, and then all this shit in my past won't matter. Hell, more musicians have records than don't right now, and I don't mean albums. Think about it babe. If you want to talk, you can call the jail. Or come visit and I'll see you anytime. I fucking dream about it every night. I miss you so much babe. At least let me know that you got the letter. I'll be waiting to hear from you.

Your forever,

Caleb

I read through the letter cover to cover three full times to make sure that what I'm seeing is real.

I don't know what happened.

You. That's what happened. You.

I forgot to keep putting in the work that you deserve, babe.

Or the idea you had of me was never needy and always available to stroke your ego. But call it what you want.

None of them meant anything to me.

Including me.

All this history we have together.

Five mostly sad years. History isn't always good.

I'll be the faithful guy that you deserve.

You didn't have to cheat to be a traitor.

I get why you're with him. You're set for life now, and that's hard to pass up.

Is this supposed to be smoothing me over?

Come visit and I'll see you anytime.

Only because you can't leave. And yet you wonder why I left.

At least let me know that you got the letter.

Yes, I got it, and yes, it's over, and no, I don't need this fake attempt at closure.

Once the third time is up, I throw the offensive paper across the room. It daintily sails through the air and lands gently, face-up, taunting me. I shove myself up off the floor and pick it up again, roughly folding it and shoving it back into its envelope.

A sharp knocking at the door nearly makes me jump out of my skin. "Ana? It's been way more than a minute. What the hell is going on? If you don't answer, this door is coming down."

I stow the letter in between a stack of books on one of my shelves, then fly to the door and yank it open. "Sorry. Couldn't find my favorite pajamas." I throw the shapeless pile on the couch into a duffle bag and sling it over my shoulder. "I'm good now, let's go."

He gives me a speculative look. "Okay," he says cautiously. He takes the duffle bag and I consciously do not glance in the direction of where I shoved the letter. That's a later issue. Maybe I can come back here alone at some point.

Your forever, he said. Not yours forever. Your forever. The distinction is that it's not a profession that he belongs to me, but that I belong to him and no one else will ever be with me if he isn't.

"Escala?" he asks when I'm sitting in the back seat. When did I get here? Sheesh. The autopilot is real right now.

"Yes." My stomach churns a bit. Escala. Christian. My dear, sweet, inclined-towards-vengeance man. If I tell him about this, he'll pull some inside job with the justice system and make sure Caleb never sees the light of day again. I don't really want that. I just want him to leave me alone.

I sigh and lean my head back against the seat. This is only an issue because I still live in my old apartment. So, as soon as I move, this won't be relevant in the slightest. Well, I guess this is a motivator to get this show on the road. Maybe I just need to take a day to myself to pack up my place and figure out what the hell to do with that letter. Part of me wants to burn it or tear it up into a million pieces and send it sailing off into the wind, but the other part wants to keep it in case he tries to run his mouth and change the story somewhere further down the line.

Either way… I don't think this is pressing news for Christian. He's been in such a good mood the past few days, and look how this put a damper on my day. The least I can do is spare him the stress. The past doesn't get to win today.

Someday I'll tell him. But not today. Not now…

I get out of the car immediately when the engine shuts off, not bothering to wait for Sawyer to open the door. I just barely have the basic decorum to hold the elevator for him and we're silent all the way up, but I can feel his eyes on me.

"Hello, Ana! How was your day, dear?" Mrs. Jones greets. She's cooking something that smells incredible. I wish I could appreciate it right now, but I feel so chaotic. I just want him.

"Fine. Where's Christian?"

"I believe he's in his office." I give her a quick, half-hearted smile, then walk as quickly as is appropriate in that direction.

I knock, but don't wait to open the door. He's sitting in his chair on the phone with someone, and he flashes me an annoyed look until he registers that it's me. I walk around his desk and plop myself into his lap, wrapping my arms around him and snuggling into his chest. Just his smell and the feel of his body is instantly calming.

"Ros, I'll call you back." He sets the phone down and strokes my hair. "Baby, what's wrong? You're so tense. Was therapy okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, it was fine. Just a long day. I missed you."

I can almost feel his spirits lighten. "You missed me, hmm? But you're spending so much extra time with me now. I thought I'd be old news."

"Well, I can't get enough."

He grasps my chin and tilts my head up, kissing me soundly on the lips. "Did you go to your old place?"

I drop my gaze and lay my head against his shoulder. If he can read my expression, the jig is up. "Yeah. Hey, remember when we watched Titanic?"

He laughs in surprise. "Vividly."

"Let's just watch a movie and chill again tonight. I just want stay right next to you."

He shifts again so he can see my face. "I think that can be arranged." I look up at him and his expression turns quizzical. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

"Yes." It's not a lie. It is okay. I'm here, I'm happy, we're happy. The past just has a way of creeping up. "Can't a girl be disgustingly in love with her boyfriend?"

"And what girl is that?"

"Your girl."

"My girl." He kisses me again, slower this time, almost massaging my lips with his. "Always."

Always. God help me. You never had a shot, Caleb. Not as long as Christian Grey exists. I don't know if I'm set for life, but I'm certainly sold for life.

"Gail said dinner was just about ready. What's say dinner and a movie?"

"Would you be annoyed if I wanted to eat on your couch?"

"Our couch. And no, I am rarely annoyed with you, and it'll take more than the risk of stained furniture."

"Then dinner and a movie and you, all together, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

A/N: I didn't feel like going out last night so I did this. Hope you all had a good week!

Also... I have a new AU story in my head. Not sure if I'm going to try to do double duty or just try to shove it aside for later. We shall see. Just a heads-up.