Chapter 61 - Knocked Up

If I thought our lives would settle back  down once Ray had recovered enough after his accident to be moved up to the Northwest hospital here in Seattle, I was wrong.

Frankly, his accident couldn’t have happened at a worse time. Ana’s message to call her back urgently reached me just as Ros and I were about to go into a critical meeting with the Taiwanese ship yard owners. I couldn’t pull out of the meeting at that late stage, not after all the months of delicate negotiations we’d been through, and not when it was so crucial for the future of my shipyard here as well.

But the funny thing was, because I was so keen to get the matter settled quickly so I could head off to support Ana in her hour of need, I was pretty brusque, so I think the Taiwanese guys thought I was getting cold feet.  Upshot was they ended up being really amenable, and sold me the shipyard for less than I'd been prepared to pay. I’ll still need to go to Taiwan to finalize all the details in the near future, but I have to say it worked out pretty well, all things considered.

Ray lying injured in hospital cast a huge shadow over Ana’s birthday, when I’d really been looking forward to spoiling my wife on her first birthday that we'd shared. But with some hastily made arrangements, in the end I think she still had a great time, mostly because Ray was over the worst by then.

She seemed to like the charm bracelet I got her, which I was pleased about, because I’d spent a lot of time thinking of charms to remind her of all our special firsts together. 

By her very excited reaction, at least I know she definitely liked the R8 - I think she’d forgotten all about asking me to get her a white one. 

But I think her best present was having our families and friends around her for a surprise party, for which Andrea helped to organize and coordinate all the flights and arrangements.

So I thought we were over the worst of things. That’s why I’m mystified when I get just a one word reply to the email I send Ana once she’s returned to work, checking that everything is okay and arranging to pick her up at six.

She tells me she’s just busy when I email her back again to check,  but I know her lack of witty banter is a sure sign that all is not well, whatever she says. 

Is she still worrying about Ray? I check with my mom in case there have been any developments I wasn’t aware of, but she assures me that all things considered he’s doing really well,  and there’s no reason why he shouldn’t make a full recovery from his injuries. Mom is very fond of Ray, and I know she’s been keeping a close eye on his progress, so I'm confident that nothing has been missed with him.

When we pick Ana up after work, I can instantly see by her face that something is definitely bothering her. She admits she hasn’t eaten either, which makes me angry. She claims she’s just missed me and is worried about Ray – at least I can put her mind at rest, having spoken to Mom earlier. And if she’s saying she’s missed me, perhaps now is a good time to ask her if she’ll come out to Taiwan, but she turns me down flat, as I knew she would, saying she can't take any more time off work.

It’s obvious when we call in to visit Ray in the hospital that he’s much better, but after a short chat about fishing and the Mariners, he tires quickly, so we leave him to get some rest. But I can see that Ana is still preoccupied, and I hate that she is not confiding in me.

The final straw comes when Ana just picks at her food in the way I hate when we have our dinner that night.

“Damn it! Ana, will you tell me what’s wrong?”

She looks at me with those big blue eyes of hers, but remains perplexingly quiet. It can't be Ray, because she saw for herself how well he’s progressing. Is it something at work, maybe?

“Please. You’re driving me crazy.”

She swallows and then takes a deep breath, obviously steeling herself to break some bad news.

“I’m pregnant.”

Fuck! Did she just say she’s pregnant?

“What?”

 “I’m pregnant,” she quietly repeats.

No, that can't be right, we made certain contraception was all taken care of…. didn’t we?

“How?”

She just looks at me as she blushes. Wait a minute, she must have been due her next Depo shot. Don’t tell me she fucking well forgot about it?

“Your shot?” I snarl.

She just stares at me.

“Did you forget your shot?”

By her lack of denial, that’s clearly the case. How much simpler could it be for her? She couldn’t remember to take the pill every day,  that’s why I organized for her to get the shot instead, but now it turns out she can’t even remember to get something that important taken care of every few weeks.

“You have one thing, one thing to remember. Shit! I don’t fucking believe it. How could you be so stupid?”

Pregnant. A baby. How could she let this happen? I feel my control slipping as the enormity of what she’s just told me begins to sink in. This is going to change everything. Her carelessness has ruined everything, and there’s fuck all I can do about it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, as she looks down at her fingers.

“Sorry? Fuck!”

She knows she’s fucked up big time, so sorry is not going to cut it.

“I know the timing’s not very good.”

“Not very good! We’ve known each other five fucking minutes. I wanted to show you the fucking world and now… Fuck. Diapers and vomit and shit!”

I close my eyes and try to keep a hold on my temper, but it’s a vain struggle. I thought she felt just the same as me, that any thoughts of a family were way, way in the future. So if it was just as important to her not to get pregnant, I just don’t understand how she could have let this happen, unless…

“Did you forget? Tell me. Or did you do this on purpose?”

“No,” she whispers, but I can tell she’s being evasive.

For fucks sake, it must have been in her diary, and she even has an assistant who runs that for her now, so how the fuck could she have just forgotten something so critical when she’s supposedly an intelligent woman?

“I thought we’d agreed on this!”

“I know. We had. I'm sorry,” she mumbles.

“This is why. This is why I like control. So shit like this doesn’t come along and fuck everything up.”

“Christian, please don’t shout at me,” she whispers as she starts crying. Normally I hate to see her cry, but right now it just adds to my anger.

“Don’t start with the waterworks now. Fuck. You think I'm ready to be a father?”

“I know neither one of us is ready for this, but I think you’ll make a wonderful father. We’ll figure it out.”

“How the fuck do you know! Tell me how!”

Fifty shades of fucked-up-ness does not make good father material. This much I know. So I can't do this. It’s not within my capabilities. How could Ana do this to me? I’ll only make the child as fucked up as I am. It’s genetic. The crack whore fucked me up. I’ll fuck any child of mine up. Ana had no right putting me in this position. 

I can’t deal with her stupid platitudes right now. I have to get out of here.

“Oh fuck this!”

I grab my jacket on my way out, no idea where I'm headed. 

All I know is I have to get away.

~ ~ ~

How can everything have changed in such a short time? Nothing will ever be the same again. This is something I can't make go away. Ana never mentioned the possibility of aborting the baby. And even if she did agree to have a termination, which I just know she wouldn’t, the fact of this unwanted pregnancy would still be there, lingering and festering between us.

You want to kill the baby, Grey? Is that what you wish the crack whore had done with you? Disposed of you, got rid of you, because you were an unplanned inconvenience? Maybe it would have been for the best if you had never been born, that’s the truth of the matter.

Just as I’ve finally found love, finally found someone to share my life with, it’s taken away from me. We’ve had some really great weekends soaring and sailing together recently, but that’ll all have to stop now. 

I don’t want to share Ana. She will love the baby more than she loves me. I want her all to myself. Now I'm going to be left out. I'm going to be the outsider looking in again. I had such a great future planned for us, and now it’s been snatched away, gone forever. Is this my punishment? I knew things were too good.

I was only just starting to learn how to be a decent human being, which is all thanks to Ana of course, but I've still got a long way to go so there’s no way I can  cope with this. What the hell do I know about being a good father? I’m nothing like the decent man my adoptive father is, and I don’t even have the faintest idea who my biological father might have been. He never stuck around long enough to know of my existence. I just can't do this whole father thing.

Why, why, why the fuck did Ana have to mess up like this? The amount of sex we have, obviously we had to have some reliable contraceptive sorted. She knew that. How hard is it to get a simple shot done on time? And now our sex life will be over, of course, and it’ll never get back to how it was. Everyone knows babies put a stop to all that.

I’m fucking pissed with myself too, that I didn’t keep track of when her shot was due, that I left something this important solely to her. I should have ignored any protests about being too controlling, I should have taken her to the doctor myself, she’s just proved she needs me to keep control. 

But it’s too late now.

When I did my research before Ana had the first shot, I remember reading that women often have trouble getting pregnant even after the shot’s run out, so how the hell did Ana manage to get pregnant so quickly? We must have been really unlucky.

My cell buzzes. It’s Taylor.

“Mr. Grey. Can you apprise me of your current whereabouts? I understood you were to remain in the apartment all evening, and I have not been made aware of any changes to your schedule.”

I sigh. I know Taylor is just doing his job, but right now I don’t appreciate being none too subtly lectured by him because I’ve gone out without telling him. So I didn’t think to call by his office on my way out. That’d be because I was too busy getting the hell out of there before I totally lost it with my wife. 

Why? Because she’d just announced she’s fucking well knocked up. That’s why, Jason. Deal with it. I’m a big boy now, and I’m allowed out on my own. Maybe Ana has spoken to him and confided in him, although I doubt it. More likely Gail has tipped him off that I've gone AWOL after overhearing us in the kitchen.

“I’m on my way to see Doctor Flynn. It’s an unscheduled appointment,” I bark. So fuck off and leave me alone.

“I see, sir,” he says with undisguised relief in his voice. So he does know I’ve flipped after Ana’s disclosure. Thanks for that, Gail.  So he’s happy that I'm off to see someone who can deal with his crazy fucked up boss. “I’ll come and pick you up after your appointment.”

“That won't be necessary. I've no idea how long I’ll be. I’ll make my own way back.”

“Mr. Grey, I would really prefer….”

I terminate the call, not interested in whatever he was going to say.

All the while I've been trying to get my head around this shit, I’ve been walking towards Flynn’s office, not really thinking my actions through. It’s getting late. Although he often holds consultations in the evening, as I reach his office I see that it’s closed.

Fuck. He’s not there.

I try calling him and reach his voicemail. Apparently, he’s at his son’s parents' evening at school. If I leave a message, he’ll get back to me as soon as he can.

Fuck.  

But in reality, I know he can't turn the clock back and make this go away. I can't keep running to Flynn for magical answers, because it’s not as if he can change what’s happened, is it? He can't explain why Ana was so irresponsible and stupid. And he certainly can't turn me into father of the year material, however brilliant he is.

Everything is totally screwed up. What’s the point of being successful and wealthy if you still end up being stuck with an unplanned pregnancy, just like the crack whore? How fucking ironic. 

I thought I’d taken every possible precaution to ensure I'd never end up in this situation. This kind of thing doesn't happen to me. Even Elliot’s never got someone knocked up. But thanks to Ana messing up, here we are with a baby on the way, barely a fucking month after getting married.

I just continue walking now, unable to return home, not knowing where I’m headed. 

Just walking. And walking.

Whether by design, or whether by accident, I find myself outside the Bravern Centre, where Elena works. And by chance, she’s just locking up to leave.

“Christian! What on earth are you doing here? Is everything alright?” she frowns as she stares at me.

“Oh everything is just peachy. Couldn’t be better,” I smile sarcastically, as I run my hands through my hair in frustration at my situation.

“I’ve been hoping to get a chance to talk to you, ever since your birthday party, and you look as if you could do with a drink. Why don’t you join me, just for old times’ sake?”

I look at Elena. She’s her usual elegant, well groomed self, and somehow in this tangled nightmare of emotions I'm experiencing, she seems like an oasis of calm and reason. 

I need to get my head together somehow, and I can't walk the streets all night. I decide it would be pretty good to just talk with her, like we used to.

“Okay. Let’s head to The Hideout. It’s usually pretty quiet in there,” I suggest.

This quiet secluded little bar is just a couple of blocks away,  and so we’re soon sat at a table sharing a bottle of wine.

“Christian, the first thing I want to do is apologize for the way I behaved the last time I saw you at your birthday party. I realize now I was way out of line. I guess I've been so used to helping you organize all your previous subs that I found it hard to step back  with Anastasia.”

“Anastasia’s never been my sub, Elena.”

“Of course, I know that.”

We wouldn’t be in the current mess if she was, I can't help thinking to myself.

“And I'm really sorry that your mom overheard things, and ended up getting involved. Naturally she doesn't know anything about the scene, about how helpful it was for a young man with exacting needs like yours, so I can understand why she was upset.”

“Yeah, I really wish she hadn't gotten involved. I hate upsetting her, because she doesn’t deserve it. I tried to get her to understand that back then you didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to, but she refused to accept that. And now I gather she’s frozen you out.”

“Oh yes, Grace has certainly done that most effectively,” Elena smiles ruefully. “Neither your mom nor any of her circle of friends will have anything to do with me now, which is such a shame. She’s been a good friend to me over the years and I miss her. But I can understand, because she had no idea of your predilections in the way that I did, so from where she stands I guess it does look bad,” Elena sighs, as she takes a large sip of her wine.

“Have Mom’s actions affected trade at the salon?”

Since I signed the paperwork handing everything over to Elena, I no longer have any indication of how her business is performing.

“Initially yes, we did experience a drop in bookings. However, since I launched a new campaign targeting some of the more exclusive fitness centers, we’ve managed to attract new clientele. And that has more than offset her detrimental effect.”

“I'm pleased to hear it. Doing well in these difficult times is not an easy task.”

“So, married life. How’s that working out for you, Christian?”

“I'm not going to lie – I'm finding it challenging at times. But I have no regrets. Marrying Anastasia is the best thing I ever did.”

I realize I still mean this, despite tonight’s shocking and unwelcome news. I just wish Ana wasn’t fucking well pregnant. I just wish I could turn the clock back. I just wish we could put things back to the way they were, because right now I have no idea how the fuck we’re going to get through this.

“Challenging? In what way?” Elena probes, obviously noticing the way my mood has suddenly blackened again. She catches the barman’s eye and orders a second bottle of wine.

There is no way I'm discussing the whole pregnancy issue with Elena, because regardless of her apology, I suspect she would imply that Ana got herself pregnant on purpose, and despite the accusation I hurled at her in the heat of the moment,  I know she wouldn’t do that.

What I do know is that my wife can be careless and disorganized. 

A little voice in my head reminds me that in her defense she’s had a lot to deal with recently, with a kidnap attempt from that sick bastard Hyde - Barney is still digging to find sufficient intel to ensure we have a watertight case against him - and then she had to deal with her stepfather lying comatose in hospital. 

But I'm still too angry to listen to that voice of reason.

Ensuring she didn’t get pregnant was too important for her to have forgotten about, or at least she should have let me know that we needed to use condoms again until she had a chance to get her contraception sorted.  

“Oh, you know. My need to control. Ana’s need to defy me. Nothing new,” I reply evasively.

“So you’re settling in to your new way of life just fine? Coping with the whole domestic scene?”

“Yep.”

I take a large gulp of wine to help me swallow the lie.

“I gather you’ve bought a big house overlooking Puget Sound. A proper family home. Is that your plan for the future? Is having a family on the cards?”

“Yes. I don’t know what kind of a father I’ll make, but Ana wants kids, so…” I try and smile.

I'd vaguely thought that maybe in a few years I might have been healed enough to be able to cope with a baby, but it was so far in the future I really hadn't given it much thought. I never dreamt in a million years that I’d have to confront it right now, barely a month after getting married. I fucking hate surprises being sprung on me, and surprises don’t come much bigger than a fucking unplanned pregnancy.

“And what Ana wants, Ana gets, hmm? Christian the daddy, the happy family guy?” Elena asks as she raises her eyebrows. “Forgive me if I seem a little skeptical about your apparent conversion, but this just doesn't sound like the Christian I’ve known so well for so many years. I’ve always understood your true needs, and I still do. So I’m always here if you need a discreet outlet…”

She leans over the table and puts her hand on my shoulder, as she looks into my eyes.

I instantly recoil in total shock and horror. I don’t want her touching me. It’s just wrong. Only Ana can touch me like that. I realize Elena is making a pass at me, thinking I still need the sick shit she taught me. She’s thinking that if I'm not getting it from Ana, then she can give it to me instead.

Elena jumps back in her seat at my obvious rejection of her advance, because I'm unable to conceal the look of total revulsion on my face.

“I’m married, Elena, and I love my wife. I would never cheat on her. Whatever there was between you and me, it was certainly never love and it was certainly over a very long time ago.  I love Anastasia. She gives me everything I need and more.”

“I… I’m sorry, Christian, you misunderstood. I just meant that I’ll always be here as your friend, if you need someone to talk to, that’s all. I’ve got Isaac, and my business to keep me occupied. I never meant… I just miss our friendship. But of course now that you’re married, I understand that your future is with Anastasia. I just wish it wasn’t so awkward between all of us since your party. I wish we could start over again and be friends.”

“I think we both know that’s not possible. You just have to accept that and move on, and I think the best way for that to happen is for us not to meet up again. Tonight was a mistake. It won't happen again. So this is goodbye, Elena.”

Elena stares at me, and I think those are tears I can see in her eyes. 

The ice queen can cry?

“Very well, if that’s what you want, Christian, then yes, this is goodbye. I wish you and Anastasia every happiness in the future.”

We both stand as she prepares to leave, and for a second she hesitates. She’s always kissed me goodbye on the cheek, but with my body language still hostile, she sensibly doesn’t risk another rejection.

“Take care of yourself, Christian,” she whispers. 

And then she’s gone, and I know this time the door has finally closed on that chapter. 

 Elena is out of my life forever.

~ ~ ~

What the fuck am I going to do? I can't face going home to Ana yet, so I order a bottle of bourbon to continue drowning my sorrows, as I sit alone in the corner of the bar. I used to drink a lot to numb the pain, but I haven’t resorted to that in years.

I ignore my cell when it vibrates. It’s no doubt Taylor, checking up where I've gotten to. He can go to hell. If I want to stay out drinking, I fucking well will. He’s not my fucking baby sitter. It certainly won’t be Ana calling and begging me to come home, will it?

Well, what did you expect, Grey? Didn’t exactly cover yourself in glory earlier, did you? No wonder she was nervous about telling you she was pregnant, when she knew you’d go fucking batshit crazy. Hell, she’s only just turned twenty two, only just finished college, so it must have been a hell of a shock to her too, but she managed to keep it together, didn’t she? This just proves that you don’t deserve her.

A baby.

Junior. A mix of me and Ana.

Christ, I hope he takes after his mother rather than me.

Nature or nurture. How would I have turned out if I hadn't had a birth mother like the crack whore? We’ll never know, but would I have still turned into an adolescent who so willingly and eagerly adopted a BDSM lifestyle to become a submissive for a woman like Elena?

Could my son turn out like me? I remember Ana once asked how I would feel about a son of mine being seduced by someone like Elena. 

My child being seduced at the age of fifteen, being whipped and cruelly punished to bring him into line? No, that’s just sick. Suddenly I can see things through Ana’s eyes, my mom’s eyes, and I know I’d want to kill anyone who touched my son like that.

 Junior’s lucky of course. He’ll have Ana for his mom, and despite how young she is, I just know she will be a great mom, because of all the love she carries inside her. That’s why she never mentioned having a termination, even though it would have probably been far easier for her if she had just quietly made the inconvenience go away, knowing that I’d freak and be unable to cope. She put the baby before me, didn’t she?

As I drink my way through the bottle of bourbon, my befuddled brain tries to work out when this baby was conceived.  I guess it must have been at least a couple of weeks back for it to be detectable. But that was when the shot was only just due, so is it possible the shot ran out early? Was it faulty in some way? 

Perhaps I can sue Doctor Greene, or the manufacturer, or the hospital, anybody. Someone has to be to blame for this mess. I've been blaming Ana, but maybe there are other factors. But the further I get down the bottle, the less coherently I can think.

Just before one in the morning the bar is closing, and the manager tells me I have to leave. As I start arguing that I don’t fucking well want to leave, I feel myself being firmly manhandled out of the bar. 

Taylor. 

He marches me over to the Audi that’s just outside, and then maneuvers me into the back of the car before I have a chance to protest.  

“Easy does it, Mr. Grey,” he calmly says as he leans in to strap me in. 

“What-the-fuck-are-you-doing-here,” I slur.

“Just seeing you safely home, sir.”

I start chuckling to myself. Of course. Taylor’s tracked my cell phone to locate me. 

The stalker is himself stalked. I’m guessing he’s just been sat outside watching me from a distance, knowing the easiest option is to let me quietly drink myself into oblivion, then he can pour me into the back of the car to ferry me home. No doubt he would have stepped in if he’d seen me getting into trouble or fighting, but that didn’t happen tonight. I was too busy drowning my sorrows.

After that I don’t remember anything until I wake up in the morning with a pounding headache and feeling like total crap. I’m still in my clothes from last night, but my shoes, socks, tie and belt have been removed. Ana? Or Taylor? 

I really can't be sure, but I think I remember Ana being here in a satin nightdress maybe? But whoever it was who partially undressed me last night, right now I'm all alone in our bedroom. 

So where is Ana?

~~~

I’m frantic with worry. I’ve searched the whole apartment. The staff have searched the whole apartment. I've rung her, and I've left messages. I've even swallowed my pride and rung Kate, thinking Ana might have sought solace with her best friend.

Nothing.

Ana’s not here, she’s not at Kate’s and she’s not answering her cell.

But there’s no sign of her leaving the apartment on the CCTV footage, and her phone is tracked here to the apartment. It’s a total mystery because Ana seems to have somehow disappeared off the face of the earth.

And I know why. As soon as I saw those messages on my cell this morning, I knew that bad as things were between us, they had just gotten a whole lot worse.

*It was good to see you. I understand now.

Don’t fret. You’ll make a wonderful father.*

That was from Elena.

*WOULD YOU LIKE MRS. LINCOLN TO JOIN US WHEN WE EVENTUALLY DISCUSS THIS TEXT SHE SENT TO YOU? IT WILL SAVE YOU RUNNING TO HER AFTERWARD. YOUR WIFE*

And that was from Ana.

Elena’s text looks a whole lot worse than it really is, and I try to be angry that Ana’s been snooping on my cell while I was passed out in a drunken stupor, but truth is I know I would have done exactly the same if I’d been her.

And I see Ana did text me and ask where I was last night, but of course I ignored it and didn’t reply. And then she finds out I was with Elena. The way Ana feels about Elena, I know that would have made her totally fucking mad.

I don’t know what to do. She’s left because of my appalling behavior. We have to find her, because I have to talk to her and find a way for us to get through this.

I gather Taylor, Sawyer, Ryan, and Gail together to issue instructions. 

I haven’t elaborated on why my wife has chosen to disappear, but by the look on their faces, they all know. They think I'm a total shit for treating my pregnant wife the way I did. I think I'm a total shit for treating my pregnant wife the way I did.

“Gail, you stay here in case Mrs. Grey shows up. Perhaps there was a fault with the cameras and she did leave, so Taylor, I want you check if she headed to SIP’s offices and spent the night there, while I….”

Suddenly Ana appears at the entrance, looking pale and tired, and wrapped in a large duvet. Everyone just gapes at her. I’m so relieved to see her here, that she's safe, that she hasn’t walked out on me. But where the fuck has she been hiding herself? Has she been taking concealment lessons from Leila or something? How the hell could we all have missed her?

“Sawyer, I’ll be ready to leave in about twenty minutes,” she states calmly. He just nods, totally bemused at her appearance, as we all are.

“Would you like some breakfast, Mrs. Grey?” Gale asks.

Ana shakes her head.

“I'm not hungry, thank you.”

She didn’t eat properly yesterday, and now she’s refusing breakfast too?

“Where were you?” I ask her quietly.

Suddenly all the staff hastily scatter and disappear from view. The shit has just hit the fan. They know this is going to get messy. But at least now we can begin talking.

But it seems Ana has other ideas as she ignores me and marches off to our bedroom, and then locks herself in the bathroom before I can get to her.

She won't let me in. Instead she tells me to go away and refuses to open the door, so I have no option but to wait outside. At least I know she is safe and that she has to come out eventually, so I just have to be patient. I still can't figure out where the hell she was though.

Finally she comes out wrapped in a towel and with her wet hair wrapped turban style. She still doesn’t speak to me as she strides past and goes into the walk-in closet to get some clothes.

“Are you ignoring me?”

“Perceptive, aren’t you?” she murmurs coldly as she selects her purple dress, along with her thigh high stiletto boots, and then waits for me to move out of her way. 

So this is Ana when she’s really mad. It’s a whole new side to her that I haven’t really seen before.

I watch fascinated as she heads over to her chest of drawers and then lets her towel drop. Fuck, she looks so sexy naked, but she continues to ignore me.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Why do you think?” She shimmies into some black lacy panties. “Go ask your Mrs. Robinson. I'm sure she’ll have an explanation for you.”

Here we go. This is all about Elena, of course.

“Ana, I've told you before, she’s not my…”

“I don’t want to hear it, Christian.” She waves her hand in the air dismissively. “The time for talking was yesterday, but instead you decided to rant and get drunk with the woman who abused you for years. Give her a call. I am sure she’ll be more than willing to listen to you now.”

Ana has found the matching lacy black bra which she pulls on and fastens. She looks hot.

It’s hard for me to argue with her stinging accusations, because they are at least partly true.  I did rant and get drunk. But under the circumstances, who could blame me? Anyhow, I figure attack is the best form of defense.

“Why were you snooping on me?”

She has the grace to flush, but she still bites back.

“That’s not the point, Christian. Fact is, the going gets tough and you run to her.”

“It wasn’t like that.” 

I ran, but I wasn’t running to Elena. Not really. I just ended up at her salon. Pure coincidence. I think.

“I’m not interested.”

Sweet Jesus, now she’s putting on black lacy top stockings. She’s doing this on purpose, showing off her great body, but keeping her distance, to taunt and punish me.

“Where were you?” I’m turning this back on her to divert the attention away from Elena, but I do need to know where she was. She couldn’t have just vanished into thin air.

But she ignores me as she bends over to towel dry her hair. In her black lace underwear and stockings. Of course I get a hard-on, as she knows I will.

“Answer me.”

My wife is so fucking infuriating. She’s angry with me about a stupid text that means nothing, when she’s messed up and got herself pregnant. There is no comparison.

She continues to ignore me, and  switches on the hairdryer to block me out. She quickly finger dries her hair into a wild look. It looks great on her. She looks like some kind of a sexy wildcat standing there all angry in her underwear and with her hair wild as well.

“Where were you?”

“What do you care?”

“Ana, stop this. Now.”

She just rudely shrugs at me, and I’ve had enough of this. I move across the room, needing to make contact with her.

She whirls round and steps back.

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses vehemently.

I'm shocked by her reaction, and remain frozen to the spot.

“Where were you?” Let’s get back to that.

“I wasn’t out getting drunk with my ex. Did you sleep with her?”

How can she even think that?

“What? No!” Does she not know me at all? I would never do that, I couldn’t. “You think I’d cheat on you?

“You did,” she snarls. “By taking our very private life and spilling your spineless guts to that woman.”

“Spineless. That’s what you think?”

She has a point, Grey. You did run out on her because  you couldn’t  face up to the fact that you’re going to be a father.

“Christian, I saw the text. That’s what I know.”

“That text was not meant for you,” I growl. I wish Elena hadn't sent that fucking stupid message for Ana to find and misinterpret. Trust her to leave one last parting shot to screw things up for me.

“Well, fact is I saw it when your cell fell out of your jacket while I was undressing you, because you were too drunk to undress yourself. Do you have any idea how much you’ve hurt me by going to see that woman?”

All I was thinking about last night was how I was feeling. I never stopped to think how Ana would feel if she knew who I was with. At the time, it had just seemed like a good idea to talk to an old friend, that’s all. But now Ana is taking it really badly because of how much she loathes Elena.

“Do you remember last night when you came home? Remember what you said?” she quizzes me.

So we did actually talk? I have no recollection whatsoever about any conversation we had last night. What the fuck did I say?

“Well, you were right. I do choose this defenseless baby over you. That’s what any loving parent does. That’s what your mother should have done for you. And I'm sorry that she didn’t – because we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now if she had. But you're an adult now – you need to grow up and smell the fucking coffee and stop behaving like a petulant adolescent. You may not be happy about this baby. I'm not ecstatic, given the timing and your less-than-lukewarm reception to this new life, this flesh of your flesh. But you can either do this with me, or I’ll do it on my own. The decision is yours. While you wallow in your pit of self-pity and self loathing, I'm going to work. And when I return, I’ll be moving my belongings to the room upstairs.”

No! That’s sounds almost as if she’s leaving me. It’s the first step, isn’t it? She knows how much I hate sleeping on my own.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to finish getting dressed.”

“Is this what you want?”

 Or is she maybe just lashing out to hurt me?

“I don’t know what I want any more.”  She concentrates very hard as she looks in the mirror to moisturize her face.

“You don’t want me?”

“I'm still here aren’t I?” she snaps as she starts putting on her mascara.

“You’ve thought about leaving?” Please God, no.

“When one’s husband prefers the company of his ex-mistress, it’s usually not a good sign,” she says, her voice dripping with disdain.

Now she puts the boots on, so she’s standing there in her underwear and thigh high stiletto boots. I can’t take my eyes off her.

“I know what you're doing here,” I murmur. She thinks we are going to work this out in bed. Well, I have no objection to using some sexpertise to try and work out a solution.

“Do you?” I sense her weakening, but as I step forward, she takes a step back and holds up her hand. “Don’t even think about it, Grey,” she whispers coldly.

“You're my wife.” She’s never refused me, and she’s not going to start now, surely?

“I'm the pregnant woman you abandoned yesterday, and if you touch me I will scream the place down.”

“You’d scream?”

“Bloody murder.”

“No one would hear you,” I murmur. I had the bedroom soundproofed while we were away. Ana just thought it was a normal refurb, but I didn't want the staff to be able to hear us when we moved our kinky fuckery from the playroom to the bedroom.

“Are you trying to frighten me?”

That’s a horrid accusation.

“That wasn’t my intention. I had a drink with someone I used to be close to. We cleared the air. I am not going to see her again.”

“You sought her out?”

“Not at first. I tried to see Flynn. But I found myself at the salon.”

“And you expect me to believe you're not going to see her again? What about the next time I step across some imaginary line? This is the same argument we have over and over again. Like we’re on some Ixion’s wheel. If I fuck up again, are you going to run back to her?”

“I am not going to see her again. She finally understands how I feel.”

Elena saw the look of revulsion on my face when she touched me. She certainly gets it now, even if she didn’t before.

“What does that mean?”

Problem is I can't spell it out to Ana without making things sound a whole lot worse.

“Why can you talk to her and not to me?”

“I was mad at you. Like I am now.”

“You don’t say! Well I am mad at you right now. Mad at you for being so cold and callous yesterday when I needed you. Mad at you for saying I got knocked up deliberately, when I didn't. Mad at you for betraying me.”

Her words hit home because I know they are true. When we got married, I promised to look after her and support her, in good times and bad. So I know I’ve let her down. But why can't Ana admit that she is at fault too? She has let me down by being so careless. How has this impasse between us become all my fault now?

I can tell that Ana is highly emotional as she falters and nearly breaks down. But her anger fuels her to continue her tirade.

“I should have kept better track of my shots. But I didn't do it on purpose. This pregnancy is a shock to me too. It could be the shot failed.”

I just glare at her. That’s not what I’d call an apology or an admission of fault.

“You really fucked up yesterday. I’ve had a lot to deal with over the last few weeks.”

“You really fucked up three or four weeks ago. Or whenever you forgot your shot.”

 I manage to keep on top of numerous multi-million dollar deals, and mergers and acquisitions all at the same time, but she can't  even remember one simple but crucial appointment.

“Well God forbid I should be perfect like you!”

“This is quite a performance, Mrs. Grey.”

“Well, I'm glad that even knocked up I'm entertaining.”

“I need a shower.”

“And I've provided enough of a floor show.”

“It’s a mighty fine floor show.” I still want to hold her, to have a calming fix of her scent and try to pretend that all is well, just for a minute. But as I step towards her, she steps back again.

“Don’t.”

“I hate that you won't let me touch you.”

“Ironic huh?”

“We haven’t resolved much, have we?”

“I’d say not. Except that I'm moving out of this bedroom.”

No! I don’t want to sleep on my own without her. I never want to go back to that.

I still don’t get how this ended up being all about me seeing Elena when Ana is the one who’s fucked up. It doesn't seem right or fair to me.

“She doesn't mean anything to me.”

“Except when you need her.”

“I don’t need her. I need you.”

“You didn't yesterday. That woman is a hard limit for me, Christian.”

“She’s out of my life.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ana.”

“Please let me get dressed.”

Ana is so blinded by her hatred of Elena that she is not going to calm down enough for us to talk. And I'm feeling like shit thanks to being so hungover. There is no point in going through this over and over. I sigh in frustration. Time to call a halt to our fruitless discussions.

“I’ll see you this evening.”

And then I head for the shower. By the time I get out, Ana has left for work.

So now we are left in limbo, in a terrible ugly impasse. 

And what really frightens me is that I can't see any way out of it.

 Ana’s pregnant. She’s chosen the baby over me. It’s the end of things as they were because there’s no going back. 

And I have no idea where we go from here.

II don’t own any of the Fifty Shades Trilogy or the characters therein. They belong to E L James. I’m just borrowing them for fun and not for profit. Please refer to the Legal’s page for further details. This work is not to be copied or reproduced in any way without permission.