It’s early in the morning, too early in the morning, and yet, I’m sitting on a hard bench in a long hallway outside a courtroom in John Adams Courthouse in downtown Boston. Christian is pacing back and forth across the floor in front of me and although I’m sure he’s nervous, he looks debonair and slightly intimidating in his tailored navy suit.

“Are you ready?” Carrick asks, walking up to Christian and holding him by the arm so he stops pacing. Christian nods and Carrick begins going through what to expect again. I shift uncomfortably on the bench as I watch Grace, Kate, and Elliot file into the courtroom, I have no idea where Mia is, although I hadn’t expected to see her here. Carrick is nearly completely through his pep-talk when my attention is drawn by the loud clack of high heels coming up the hallway. I turn to look and see Elena, dressed in black slacks and a modest black blouse, walking towards us alongside a man with a greased back pompadour, who I assume is her lawyer. She gives a last lingering look at Christian before disappearing into the courtroom.

“Don’t worry about her,” Carrick reassures Christian. “Just do everything the way we practiced and you’ll be fine. You’ve got this, okay?”

“Okay,” Christian says, nodding, and his Dad claps him on the shoulder before turning around and walking with purpose through the solid wood doors. Christian turns and reaches his hand out for me.

“Are you okay?” I ask when he pauses for a minute at the door.

“You love me right?” He asks. I’m taken off guard by his question and turn to look at him. For the first time, I see what looks like genuine fear in his eyes.

“Of course I love you, Christian,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around him and holding him tightly to me.

“No matter what?” He asks, and I have to pull away to look him in the eyes as I speak.

“Christian, you have nothing to be afraid of. She’s in the wrong and there is nothing she can do to get away from that. After today, we never have to see her again, okay? I know this is going to be hard but I love you, no matter what is said or done in there. Nothing could ever change that.”

“Okay,” He exhales.

I wrap my arms around him and hold him for as long as I can before I have to go into the courtroom. Christian is being sequestered from the other witnesses, so I won’t be able to sit with him while the other witnesses give their testimony. He’s going to be alone, and I want to leave him with as much comfort and support as possible before we’re forced to separate. Eventually though, that time does come, and after one last good luck kiss, I turn and make my way into the courtroom, and Christian doesn’t follow.

Once I made it to the first few rows of wooden benches, I find Kate, Grace, Carrick, and Elliot, and take a seat next to them. Carrick reaches over for my hand and squeezes it reassuringly just as the bailiff calls for everyone in the courtroom to stand. A man with a severe looking face and thin silver hair enters the room and settles down in the judge’s seat. Each side offers an opening statement and then the judge turns to the prosecutor.

“Will the prosecution call its first witness?” He asks.

“Yes, Your Honor,” He replies, as he stands from his seat. “The prosecution would like to call Mrs. Catarina Ayala to the stand.”

I turn to look to the right side of the courtroom as a small, nervous looking woman I don’t know enters and makes her way up to the stand. The bailiff makes her place her hand on a bible and swear to tell the truth. Once she’s finished, she settles down into the chair, fidgeting as she waits for the prosecutor to gather his things for her examination.

“Will you please state your name for the record?” The prosecutor asks.

“Catarina Ayala,” The woman says.

“And Ms. Ayala, what is your relationship to the defendant?”

“Mrs. Lincoln is my employer,” She says. “I am her housekeeper.”

“And does the name Christian Grey mean anything to you, Ms. Ayala?”

“Yes,” She nods. “Mr. Grey is the son of Mrs. Lincoln’s friend Grace. Before he went to school, he came to the house often to do chores and handywork around the house for Mrs. Lincoln.”

“Was Mrs. Lincoln around when Mr. Grey was in the house? Did she supervise him?”

“Supervise him?” Ms. Ayala repeats. “No, when he was working, he was generally left alone.”

“Were there times when he wasn’t working and Mrs. Lincoln was around?”

“Umm…” She hesitates.

“I mean to say,” The prosecutor continues, “Were there times that Christian Grey was in Mrs. Lincoln’s residence to do something other than work around the house.”

She pauses for a moment, looking as though she doesn’t want to answer, but eventually, she does. “Yes.”

“And what were they doing?”

“I uh… I can’t say for sure. I just know there were times he was asked over to the house when no work was needing to be done, and when I returned to work the following day, nothing seemed to be changed.”

“Did Mr. Grey act a certain way towards Mrs. Lincoln? Frightened, maybe? Affectionate?”

“He was very polite and well mannered,” She says. “Mrs. Lincoln has a certain way about her that commands respect. He seemed to act accordingly.”

“I see,” The prosecutor says, and then he turns to the judge. “Your honor, I’d like to introduce item 1-A into evidence please.”

He reaches into the folder in his hand and pulls out a series of photographs to hand to the judge, and then hands an identical stack to the witness.

“Ms. Ayala, do you recognize these photographs?”

She swallows. “Yes, this is a room in Mrs. Lincoln’s house. In the basement. It’s generally locked. I think only Mrs. Lincoln has access to it. Mr. Lincoln never mentioned it to me.”

“So, how do you know about this room?” The prosecutor asks.

“I was asked to clean it sometimes.”

“I see,” He takes the photos from her, slides them back into his folder, and continues. “Ms. Ayala, did you ever see Mr. Grey enter this room during his visits to Mrs. Lincoln’s residence?”

“No,” She says, quickly. “No, when Mr. Grey was at the house, most of the staff was generally asked to leave for the day so they wouldn’t get in his way.”

“So you never saw him in this room?” The prosecutor clarifies.

“No,” She says, shaking her head, but she’s more hesitant this time. “But…”

“But?” He asks, interested.

“But the times I was asked to clean this room did generally follow the days when Mr. Grey came to visit.”

“Thank you,” The prosecutor says. “That’s all the questions I have your honor.”  He turns around and takes his seat across from the defense just as the judge turns to Elena’s lawyer to invite him to begin his cross-examination. The defense attorney doesn’t say much. He mostly just has Ms. Ayala reiterate that she’d never witnessed any actual contact between Elena and Christian that was inappropriate, and gets her to agree that after she left the house, anyone could have come to Elena’s residence, and no one would know any different.

After Ms. Ayala’s testimony, the prosecutor chooses not to call a witness next, but instead submits a series of documents as evidence to the judge including phone records between Christian and Elena, and even a several bills and receipts from sex shops that sell BDSM equipment and hotel rooms, which were booked for two guests but Mr. Lincoln, through signed affidavit, denies having stayed in. When he gets back to calling witnesses to the stand, the prosecutor questions Elliot and Mr. Lincoln about the night in January when everything came out, but Elena’s lawyer simply responds to each witness with the question, “Have you ever seen Mrs. Lincoln actually engage in sexual congress with Christian Grey?”, to which they both answer, “No”.

Finally, about an hour into the proceedings, the prosecutor calls Christian to the stand and we all watch anxiously as he enters the room. He doesn’t look back at me as he approaches the bench and I wonder why that is. Is he embarrassed now that all of this is out in the open? Is he nervous because I’m now going to have to sit and listen to all the things I couldn’t when it was just us and Carrick? I remember him telling me his concerns over what a high profile child molestation case could do to his chances of starting a business, but according to Ros, all of those plans are on hold. Carrick has assured us that he’ll make sure the records of this case will be sealed after the verdict, so, with a few years distance between now and when he’s actively seeking business deals, he should be able to keep this under wraps… Maybe he’s nervous about that? Or, perhaps, it’s just that this is a very personal matter that he’s going to have to describe in detail in front of an entire courtroom, including his parents, and under Elena’s hawk like gaze. I know how guarded Christian is.

After he’s sworn in, Christian takes the stand and stares purposefully at the prosecutor, waiting for him to begin.

“Would you mind stating your name for the record?” The prosecutor asks as he approaches the bench.

“Christian Trevelyan-Grey.”

“And what is your relationship with the defendant, Mrs. Elena Lincoln?”

“She’s my mom’s best friend.”

“Was,” I hear Grace hiss behind me. I peek around Carrick to look at her for a minute and she locks eyes with me before nodding reassuringly. I know she’s thinking the same thing I am in this moment, it’s all about to be over.

“Christian, would you please describe the events of April 14th 2003 for the court?”

“I had just been expelled from Bellevue Christian High School for getting into a fight, and my mom sent me over to Mrs. Lincoln’s to do some chores for her as punishment,” He begins, his eyes flick briefly over to Elena, but turn back to the prosecutor as he continues. “I redid the landscaping around her pool.”

“Did you and Mrs. Lincoln interact at all?”

“I guess.”

I see the slightest hint of tension in Carrick’s jaw next to me when he hears Christian’s response. Even I find myself sitting up a little straighter as I stare at him with confusion. That wasn’t the answer Christian was supposed to give to that question. I’ve heard this examination rehearsed dozens of times. Christian was supposed to tell the judge that when he’d finished, Mrs. Lincoln kissed him, that the very next day she’d had sex with him in her playroom for the first time, which he would identify as the same room depicted in the pictures the prosecutor had submitted as evidence.

“And what happened when you finished your work for the day?” The prosecutor presses him, trying to get him back on track.

“I went home,” Christian says, and this time Carrick’s reaction is more noticeable. His brow furrows and his hands clench into fists as he inches closer to the end of the bench, looking as though he’s ready to leap to his feet. His gaze is baring into his son across the room, but Christian still hasn’t even so much as glanced in our direction.

“Were you subjected to any sexual contact initiated by Mrs. Lincoln on April 14th 2003?” The prosecutor asks, his voice tightening with irritation at Christian’s deviation from the script he’d rehearsed with Carrick.

“Objection, Your Honor,” Elena’s lawyer calls. “Council is leading the witness.”

“Overruled,” The judge says, “Please answer the question, son.”

“No,” Christian responds, and Carrick finally jumps to his feet in disbelief. My mouth is agape with shock as I turn to look at Elena who is watching the proceedings with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

“Christian!” Carrick shouts, and the judge’s head snaps up in his direction.

“Would those of you in the gallery please remain silent during the court proceedings?” He says, and I see Carrick hesitate, warring between obeying the judge and interfering with whatever it is Christian is trying to do.

The prosecutor returns to the table and sets down his notes. I can see his eyes moving frantically back and forth as he tries to decide his next move. Hastily, he reaches out and grabs a manila folder and takes it up to Christian, producing the same pictures he’d shown it Ms. Ayala earlier.

“These are pictures of a room in Mrs. Lincoln’s basement,” He says as Christian begins flipping through the pictures, looking at them with the mild interest of someone who is looking at a group of photos for the first time. “It is a room that was designed for the purpose of practicing BDSM sex. Do you recognize any of the images in your hand? Have you ever been in this room?”

“No…” Christian says, his voice calm as he concentrates on the pictures in his hand. “No, I’ve never seen this room before.”

Carrick is shaking with anger in the bench next to me, but I can’t think past the confusion to be angry. What is he doing? I practically scream in my mind. I turn around at look at Grace, who has gone pale as a ghost and is gripping tightly to Kate, who is holding her own hand over her mouth in shock.

“Christian, do you know the meaning of perjury?” The prosecutor asks, his own anger breaking through his professional demeanor as he snatches the folder out of Christian’s hands.

“Yes.”

“Then you understand that it is a felony offense and carries a minimum five year prison sentence?”

“Yes.”

“So I’ll ask you again,” The prosecutor says, speaking each of his words carefully as if to make sure Christian couldn’t possibly misunderstand the question. “Did you engaged in a BDSM sexual relationship with Elena Lincoln while you were still a minor?”

“No,” Christian replies. “I’ve never had a sexual relationship with Elena Lincoln.”

I’m dumbfounded, shaking as I stare disbelieving at the scene in front of me, but Carrick isn’t able to hold back any more.

“Objection,” He yells, and the judge looks up at him with confusion.

“Sir, please take your seat and remain silent.” The judge says, more sternly this time, but Carrick shakes his head.  

“Your honor, I’m a licensed attorney in the state of Washington and the witness is my son. If you’d just grant us a recess so that I could speak with him…”

“Sit down,” The judge says. “One more outburst from you, and I will have you removed from this courtroom.”

“Your honor, that is my son! This woman, the defendant, Elena Lincoln molested him when he was still a child! I can’t…”

“Bailiff,” The judge says, cutting Carrick off, and he nods in our direction. The bailiff walks towards us, stopping next to the bench.

“Come with me, sir.”

“No,” Carrick begs, “Please! If you’ll just let me speak with my son…”

“Sir, if you don’t come quietly, we will have you detained,” The bailiff says, and Carrick’s eyes dart around wildly, helplessly, until he has no other choice but to allow himself to be escorted out of the courtroom.

“Councilor, do you have any other questions for your witness?” The judge asks the prosecutor, but he seems lost. He takes a few deep breaths, nods to himself, and picks up a folder off the table.

“Your honor, I’d like to submit item 4-A into evidence,” The prosecutor says, his voice now shaking slightly. “I have a statement from Mr. Christian Grey, detailing his previous sexual encounters with Mrs. Lincoln.”

My mouth drops open as I feel hope flame within me, but as the judge begins flipping through the folder the prosecutor hands him, he frowns.

“This isn’t notarized,” He says.

“No your honor,” The prosecutor agrees, “But… but it’s in Mr. Grey’s own hand.” He turns to Christian. “Mr. Grey, if you never had a sexual relationship with the defendant, why do I have a written statement from you that says on the afternoon of April 14th 2003, Mrs. Elena Lincoln coerced you into a sexual relationship that lasted until November of 2007?”

“I wasn’t under oath when I wrote that,” Christian says.

“Get off the stand,” The prosecutor snaps, and the judge hands him back the folder he now refuses to allow into evidence.

“I’m sorry, Councilor,” The judge interrupts. “But the defense has the right to cross examin your witness.”

“We have no further questions, Your Honor,” Elena’s lawyer interjects.

“Then the witness is dismissed,” The judge says and Christian nods once before stepping down from the stand.

“Is there anything else councilor?” The judge asks, and his tone is annoyed, as if he thinks this is all now a waste of his time. The prosecutor hesitates for a moment, a look of panic on his face as he searches desperately around the courtroom and the files on his table for anything he can use. He looks up, and his eyes fall on me.

“Yes,” He says at last. “The prosecution wishes to call Anastasia Steele to the stand.” Christian freezes as he reaches the table where the prosecutor is standing.

“No,” He says turning to look at him. “I told my father I would only do this if you left her out of it.”

“You haven’t done anything,” The prosecutor says angrily, but Christian stands his ground and looks back at me as I get out of my seat and walk to the gate that will allow me access to the other side of the bar.

“Don’t,” He says quietly, but ignore him. I’m not sure I can even look at him right now. I walk to the bench where the bailiff swears me in, and then climb the stairs to the padded seat behind the witness stand.

“Will you please state your name for the record?” The prosecutor asks through clenched teeth.

“Anastasia Steele.”

“And how do you know Christian Grey?”

“He’s my boyfriend.”

“And do you recognize the defendant?”

“Yes, her name is Elena Lincoln. I first met her when I was staying with Christian over Thanksgiving last year.”

“And what was that meeting like?”

“Well… Before we had dinner, I saw the two of them in his father’s study. They were arguing and Mrs. Lincoln slapped him a couple times, and then tried to coerce him into having sex.”

“What were they arguing about?”

“Christian wanted out of his contract, the uh… BDSM contract between him and Mrs. Lincoln.”

“So, Christian has admitted to you that he shared a sexual relationship with Mrs. Lincoln. Did he tell you when it started?”

“When he was fifteen.”

“And what happened on the night of January 24th of this year?”

“Christian and I were going to a ballet with his family and the Lincolns. We got to the hotel and discovered that Mrs. Lincoln had paid someone at our school, uh… at Harvard University, named Astor Harrington to try and break us up. Christian confronted them and he and Mrs. Lincoln argued about their past sexual relationship. We got into a verbal altercation that led to Mr. Lincoln finding out about Mrs. Lincoln’s affair with Christian. Later that night, Mrs. Lincoln admitted to the entire Grey family that she had had a sexual relationship with Christian that started when he was still a minor. That was a night she was arrested. Elliot Grey’s and Andrew Lincoln’s testimonies were accurate.”

“Thank you, Anastasia. I have no further questions,” The prosecutor says, though he still doesn’t look entirely pacified. Is that going to be enough?  

I look up at the judge and wait for him to dismiss me but he doesn’t. Instead he looks at Elena’s lawyer.

“Your witness, Councilor,” He says.

Elena’s lawyer gets up and approaches the stand. “Miss Steele, did you ever witness Mrs. Lincoln participating in sexual congregation with Mr. Grey when he was a minor?”

“I didn’t know Christian when he was minor,” I say.

“And have you ever, even after Mr. Grey reached the age of consent, witnessed Mrs. Lincoln or Mr. Grey having sexual intercourse?”

“Well, no. But I’ve witnessed inappropriate contact between them and have heard both Christian and Mrs. Lincoln admit they have participated in an illegal BDSM sexual relationship.”

“Do you have any evidence of these admissions? A affidavit or a video recording perhaps?”

“No.”

“Your Honor,” The lawyer begins, stepping away from me to face the judge. “Both the alleged victim and my client have denied the charges that Mrs. Elena Lincoln ever had any form of sexual relationship with Christian Grey, underage or not. Any evidence that the prosecution has provided the court today is at best circumstantial and is probably the result of a young man’s fantasies gone too far. There is no definitive proof that Elena Lincoln was ever anything but a caring, nurturing role-model who mentored Mr. Grey through a difficult adolescence. Unless the prosecution can provide any concrete proof that any inappropriate sexual relationship occurred, contrary to both parties’ testimony, I move to dismiss.”

“Councilor?” The judge asks, turning to the prosecutor.

“Your honor, several witnesses have given testimony to Mrs. Lincoln admitting she molested this young man at the age of fifteen.”

“I’ve heard the testimony, and the alleged victim denies he ever had a sexual relationship with the defendant,” The judge replies. “If you have no victim, who are you representing right now?”

“I uh-” The prosecutor stammers.

“Do you have any further evidence to submit to the court?” The judge asks.

I turn to the prosecutor, waiting for him to pull out some miracle, something no one had anticipated. Home security camera footage from the Lincoln’s house, a picture of Christian and Elena together, a voice recording of her admission, but as he stands there in front of me, he looks utterly defeated.

“No, Your Honor,” He says at last.

“Then the councilor’s motion is carried and this case is dismissed. The court rules in favor of the defendant, Mrs. Elena Lincoln and finds her innocent of all charges,” The judge says quickly. He picks up his gavel and bangs it down on his desk, a loud, definite thud that feels as though it punches me in the gut.

“No!” Grace screams from her seat behind the bar. She jumps to her feet but Elliot catches her around the waist and pulls her back towards the double wooden doors as she continues to scream. “No, she can’t get away with this! No!”

The prosecutor turns back to the table and picks up his notebook and briefcase without so much as even looking at Christian. And once Christian is alone, Elena crosses the aisle over to Christian and reaches out touch his arm affectionately, but he pushes her off and storms out of the courtroom after his family. Elena shoots me one last gloating smirk before she too files out of the room.

I’m frozen on the witness stand. I had been so sure of the outcome of this trial I hadn’t even considered what would happen if Elena won. Christian lied. Why did he lie? I try to think about how he was acting this morning, really analyze his actions for any kind of clue that this was about to happen. He was nervous, but that was to be expected. And then I remember what he said to me right before we came into the courtroom.

You love me, right? No matter what?

The memory leaves me winded. This is what he was talking about? He knew he was going to lie, he’d planned it. He wasn’t afraid of what was going to come out and how I might take it, he was worried what would happen after I watched him get up on the witness stand and lie to protect a child molester.

“Ana?” A calm, careful voice says from the back of the courtroom, and I look up to see Kate staring at me apprehensively. The court room is empty around me and I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here. “It’s time to go.”

“Okay,” I whisper, unable to speak any louder. I stand up, feeling a little shaky on my feet and walk towards her, wondering if I’m too shocked by what’s just happened to cry. Kate holds her arms out for me and I go to her willingly, taking at least a small amount of comfort being wrapped in her arms.

“Are you okay?” She asks.

“I don’t know,” I tell her, and finally, I hear my voice crack as the tears begin.

“It’s going to be alright, Ana,” Kate says. “Carrick will think of something, maybe they can get a mistrial…”

“H-how is he? Carrick, I mean?” I ask, pulling away from her and wiping my eyes.

“Pissed,” She says. “He won’t even look at Christian, let alone speak to him. He and Elliot have Grace in the car and I think they’re just going to go straight to the airport. I just needed to come check on you before I drop them off.”

“I’ll be okay,” I tell her.

“Did you know? I mean, did he tell you he was going to do that?”

“No.”

“Talk to him,” Kate says. “Maybe… maybe there’s a reason he lied.”

“A reason?” I ask her angrily. “What reason could he possibly have?”

“I don’t know,” Kate replies, shaking her head. “But we both know that Christian is a good person and he wouldn’t do this if he didn’t have a really good reason.”

“Okay,” I agree. “You’re right, I’ll talk to him.”

“I’ll see you later tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” She says. She kisses me on the forehead and turns around to leave. I take one last moment to prepare myself to face the outside of this courtroom again and then follow after her through the double wood doors.

Christian is there waiting for me. He’s leaning against the wall on the other side of the hallway, staring down at his shoes. His head shoots up though when he hears the doors open and a look of apprehension crosses his face when he sees me standing there, waiting for him.

“Are you ready to go?” He asks, hesitantly.

“Yeah,” I tell him, but there is no life in my voice. I’m still too stunned, too lost, to register any kind of emotion. He reaches for my hand and I take it automatically as I follow him out to the parking lot. I think he knows how upset I am as he’s even more attentive than usual once we’re out of the building. He opens my car door for me and when he slides into the driver’s seat, he asks me if he can take me out to lunch.

“What was that?” I blurt out, ignoring his question. “Why did you do that, Christian?”

“Ana…” He hesitates. “I… I couldn’t do it.”

“What do you mean you couldn’t do it?”

“Look, I know where you and my dad and everyone else are coming from. I get it. I was young, probably too young and what we did was against the law, but that doesn’t mean that I didn’t want it to happen. That doesn’t take away the fact that I liked it and that I allowed it. I’ve signed that contract four times, I knew what it was and what I was doing. She didn’t force this on me, I was a willing participant and I could have stopped it whenever I wanted to. I could have stopped it from the very beginning, I could have prevented any of this from ever happening, but I didn’t because the truth is that I wanted it to happen. I know you don’t want to hear that, but… it’s true. How could I possibly send her to prison for giving me something that I wanted? Everyone keeps telling me I’m a victim, but I’m not. If this is really about justice for me, then consider it served. She’s out of our lives. She won’t contact us again. It’s still over, and that’s all I want. I just want it to be over.”

“But what about the next kid?” I ask.

“What?”

“Well, she found you when you were fifteen, what happens when she finds someone else. Maybe someone younger this time?”

“She’s not a pedophile, Ana.”

“Yes she is, Christian! She had sex with a minor, that’s what a pedophile is! The reason these laws exist is because at fifteen years, you’re not mentally capable of making the decision to have sex.”

“I knew what I was doing.”

I stare at the dash, feeling defeated. He’s made up his mind about this, I’m not going to get through to him.

“I know you can’t understand, but I really couldn’t do it, Ana, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, feeling tears well up in my eyes.

“Would it have made it better?”

“No,” I say shaking my head. “But I was completely blindsided in there, we all were. I mean, think of everything your dad has done, everything we’ve all been through trying to help you win this case. Why didn’t you just put a stop to it?”

“My dad wouldn’t have let me stop. Right and wrong is black and white to him, he would never have understood. Besides, I didn’t make my decision until this morning. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“So you were conflicted, you knew it was wrong,” I say, almost pleading now as tears break through my voice. “We should appeal, try to get a mistrial…”

“If we appeal, I’d have to admit I lied under oath. You heard what the prosecutor said in there. It’s a felony, Ana.”

I take a deep breath and wipe the tear from my cheek. We sit there in silence for a few moments until he reaches over and pulls me into a hug.

“I promise you it’s over, Ana. She’s out of our lives,” He whispers, turning his head and kissing my hair. “Let me take you to lunch?

“No, I want to go home,” I say. The look on his face makes it very clear this is not the answer he wanted, but he nods and starts the car. We don’t talk for the remainder of the ride back to campus or the walk to Grays Hall.

“You’re not coming in with me?” Christian asks, when I pull out the keys and put them in the lock on my door. “Don’t you think we should talk some more?”

“I don’t need to talk right now,” I tell him. “I need some time to process this.”

“You’ll come over tonight though, right?” He asks hopefully, but I shake my head.

“Finals start next Monday and I’ve fallen behind on studying with all of this trial stuff.”

“I’m… sorry about that, really I am. I didn’t mean for you to fall behind. I suppose, well… take the time you need tonight,” He says quietly, although he sounds as if he doesn’t think it’s okay at all. “But I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sure.”

“Have a good night. I love you, Anastasia.”

“I love you, too,” I say, and a flash of relief crosses his face at my response. He leans down and kisses me, brushing my cheek before turning and disappearing into his room. I stare after him, trying to decide why this is so painful to me right now. Is it because he’s doing this to protect her? I’m not sure. I mean, part of me understands his reasoning, and maybe it isn’t fair for me, or for anyone, to decide how to make this right for him. He should get to choose for himself and if he really couldn’t be okay with himself for going through with it, then I guess I can’t blame him. Maybe, her permanently being out of his life, out of all the Greys’ lives will be enough. I can make myself believe that, can’t I?

No. No, I don’t think I can. She deserves to be in prison right now and Christian protecting her just shows me the power she still wields over him. How much psychological damage has she done to him to make him to feel this way?

In the end though, it doesn’t matter what I think or even how I feel. I don’t get to make this decision. I never did. It was up to him and he chose what he could live with. If we’re going to move on from here, I have to be okay with it, no matter how sick it makes me.

As I enter my room and settle in to study for the night, I repeat this last thought over and over in my mind, hoping that, eventually, I’ll believe it, and this horrible feeling of betrayal will fade away.

Next Chapter

“Okay, let’s go over it again.” Carrick says, placing a new tape in the recorder before setting it back down on the table. Christian and I are in the same room that Carrick interviewed Kate in before her trial, only this meeting doesn’t seem to be going as well. Christian has been having a hard time with his depositions, and I assume it’s because of the very, deeply personal nature of the case. The prosecutor has asked for Carrick’s help interviewing Christian, undoubtedly hoping having someone he’s so closely bonded to would help Christian relax, but I don’t think it’s working out that way.

I look up from the book and notepad sitting in my lap. Finals are in less than two weeks and with all this time I’ve spent with Christian going through trial prep, I’m starting to fall behind on studying. Christian is uncomfortable, I can see that, and I know he’s ready to call it a day.

“We’ve gone through it a hundred times, Dad,” He grumbles, drumming his fingers on table with frustration.

“And you’ve yet to do it perfect,” Carrick says. “No one is going to be able to help you on the stand, it’s called leading the witness, and it can hurt your testimony. You have to be prepared.”

“Fine,” Christian says, his tone clipped, but his father ignores it and picks up his notepad again.

“Now when did it all start?”

“When I was fifteen,” Christian replies irritably, and Carrick’s jaw tightens as he struggles to keep his voice calm. When he speaks, it’s through bared teeth and I know it’s because of the number of times they’ve gone over this exact issue. Before Carrick even opens his mouth, I know exactly what he’s going to say Christian has done wrong.

“Dates, Christian. We’ve gone over this, I need you to be very specific.”

“Don’t you find it extremely unlikely that I would remember that date?” He snaps. “It was five years ago. She won’t remember it.”

“She doesn’t have to, she’s the defendant. The burden of proof lies in our hands,” Carrick replies. He reaches over to his briefcase and pulls out a file to pass to Christian. “This is the record of your expulsion from Bellevue Christian High School.”

Christian picks up the folder, skims the file inside and then begins counting on his fingers. “April 14th. It started on April 14th 2003.”

“And describe for me what happened that day,” Carrick continues.

“I had just been expelled from Bellevue Christian High School for getting into a fight and my mom sent me over to Mrs. Lincoln’s house to do some chores for her as punishment. I redid the landscaping around her pool,” Christian recites as if he’s reading lines from a script. Carrick takes a deep breath, but doesn’t lecture him on his delivery.

“Did you and Mrs. Lincoln interact at all?” He asks.

“When I was finished, I made some rude comment to her, so she slapped me and then kissed me. Then she told me she’d have more for me to do the next day and sent me home. When I came back, she took me into her playroom and we had sex for the first time.”

Carrick continues his examination and Christian gives him the same answers I’ve heard dozens of times, some of them explicit enough that I feel myself cringing. When Carrick gets to the part where Christian has to talk about some of the more severe “punishments” he had to endure, I have to leave the room. Even though I know I’m going to have to face it eventually, and hearing it for the first time in the trial probably isn’t the best idea, right now, it’s still too hard for me to sit through.

Christian answers his father’s questions and then the questions Carrick thinks are most likely to be asked by Elena’s lawyer for another hour before he flips back to the front of his note book.

“Alright,” Carrick says. “One more time.”

“Dad, we don’t have time,” Christian says. “Ana and I were supposed to meet Kate twenty minutes ago. We’re supposed to be apartment hunting.”

“Alright,” Carrick replies, clearly exercising a great deal of patience. “We’ll pick this up in the morning.”

“Fine,” Christian says, and he stands from his seat and looks expectantly down at me. Quickly, I stuff my book and notes into my bag and shoot Carrick a grateful smile as Christian takes my hand and drags me quickly out of the room. I can tell how irritated he is simply by the way he pounds on the elevator call button.

“Hey,” I say, trying to be soothing as I reach for his hand. The elevator door opens and Christian glances up and down the hallway before pushing me inside, and jabbing the button to close the doors. Once they do slide shut, he pushes me roughly against the wall and his lips come crashing down on mine. I’m startled for a second, but that passes quickly and I succumb to his fervor. For the first time in a long time, he secures my hands above my head with one hand, while his other hand gropes roughly up my side and grasps my breast. When I break our kiss, gasping for air, his lips begin sucking at my chin.

“In the car?” He asks, his voice low and needy as he pushes his erection into me.

“What?” I breathe, incoherent as his lips move down my throat.

“I want to fuck you in the car,” He groans, and as I see the number above the elevator door change to one, I quickly regain my composure, untangle my hands from his grasp, and push him away.

“We’re not going to have sex in the car,” I tell him, seconds before the elevator doors open. “What’s gotten into you?”

He shrugs as the elevator pings and the doors slide open, then takes my hand again and leads me out into the parking lot.

Kate doesn’t look happy as we pull up to the curb outside the apartment complex we’re viewing today. She’s on the phone and once we step out of the car she tells whoever she’s talking to that we’ve arrived and she’ll send them pictures once she gets up stairs. It must be Elliot.

“Where have you been?” Kate demands. “I’ve been waiting for nearly forty minutes.”

“We’ve been at the courthouse,” I tell her and the anger recedes from her face immediately.

“Oh,” She replies, embarrassed. “Well… they’re ready whenever we are.”

“Then we better get going,” Christian says, placing a hand on my lower back and gently nudging me towards the door. As we walk through the doors, his hand slides down and grips my behind, and I have to slap it away when the agent who is showing us the apartment approaches us with a wide smile. Seriously, what has gotten into him?

This is the 9th apartment we’ve seen over the last few weeks. It seems as though both Kate and Christian have very specific ideas of what they want, all of which are grossly outside of our price range.

“This is a newly remodeled two bedroom, one bath with an open concept living and dining area,” The agent tells us as she ushers us through the door. We step into a small room, no bigger than the dorm I currently share with Kate. There is a small kitchen with a total of three cabinets, a stove and a refrigerator that looks barely bigger than the one currently in Christian’s dorm.

The rest of the apartment isn’t much better. The bathroom has a stall-type shower with a nozzle that would hit Christian in the chest, a standalone sink, and a toilet. There aren’t any cabinets. The bedrooms are both smaller than the living room and look as though a full sized bed would fill the space entirely, leaving a dresser or desk completely out of the question.

“How much is this place?” Christian asks, looking around the apartment as if he’s expecting it to crumble to the ground at any minute.

“$2,300 a month, which is a great value for this neighborhood,” The agent says.

“Can we have a minute to talk it over?” Kate asks, smiling at her graciously.

“Of course,” The agent replies, closing the door to the bedroom to give us privacy as she walks back down the hall.

“Absolutely not,” Christian says, the moment the door is closed.

“I agree. This place is way too small for four people and there is nowhere to study,” Kate says, frowning as she examines a discolored spot on the wall. “And, it’s disgusting.”

“We could get creative,” I argue. “I mean, this isn’t the worst we’ve seen and out of all the apartments we’ve toured, this is the closest to campus that’s still within our budget.”

“Yeah, can we go back to that?” Christian asks. “Why are we even renting an apartment? Why don’t we just buy a condo?”

“We’ve talked about this, Christian. I don’t have any money to put towards a condo,” I tell him.

“So?” He says. “My parents have already offered to buy us a house since Elliot and I will be living together.”

“My parents will chip in too,” Kate says. “They brought it up earlier this week when I told them how much trouble we were having finding an apartment.”

“See?” Christian says to me, as if this settles it.

“I don’t know…” I reply. “I don’t know if I’m comfortable just letting you guys pay for everything, especially something like a house.”

“Don’t think of it like that,” Kate says. “Our parents want to help us out, give us the best chance at being successful here. We’ll go crazy in a place like this. How much work could you get done with three other people cramped in here all the time?”

“I guess,” I whisper, looking around the tiny room.

“Excellent,” Christian says, clapping his hands together and exiting the room to tell the agent we’re not interested. Kate is immediately on her cell phone with a real estate agent and I stare after the both of them, completely flabbergasted and wondering what I’ve just agreed to.

The next day, after Christian has finished at the courthouse with his father, Kate, Christian, and I pull up in front of a newer looking, two story townhouse. It’s powder blue with a white trim and dark red door, and although it’s fairly narrow, there is parking in the back accessible by an alley that runs up the right side of the house. I’m even pleased to discover there is a small yard on the left side of the house with small trees that line the outside of the picket fence.

“Hello,” A woman in a charcoal colored suit says as she exits the house and comes down the walk towards us. “My name is Lauren Carr, I’m the agent for this property. You must be Katherine Kavanagh?”

“Yes,” Kate says, reaching out to shake her hand. “And this is Anastasia Steele and Christian Grey.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” She says, smiling at both Christian and I. “Follow me and we’ll take a look at the house.”

Kate smiles at me excitedly and hooks her arm through mine as we follow the realtor over the cobblestone walk and through the red front door. We emerge into a small, but still decent sized living room with warm, shiny wood floors and sand colored walls. The house is furnished, so I suppose someone still lives here.

“And to your left, is the first bathroom.” Lauren says, opening a door to a small half bath that is well lit and done completely in white tile.

“It’ll need some color,” Kate says thoughtfully as we move through the living room to the small eating area set just outside the kitchen.

“The kitchen has been recently upgraded with brand new stainless steel appliances and marble counters. The white cabinets really open the space up, don’t you think?” Lauren asks.

“It’s a little small,” Christian says.

“But it has plenty of storage,” I say, looking around at the rows and rows of cabinets.

“And I really like that window over the sink. There’s a lot of light in this house,” Kate observes.

The only room left downstairs is a laundry room which is big enough to fold laundry in. She leads us out the back door to the parking area which looks plenty big enough for three cars and which the realtor tells us makes the house a steal as most houses in the neighborhood only offer off street parking.

Next, Lauren leads us up the staircase, which is also done in hardwood to the second level. There are three bedrooms upstairs, and they’re all surprisingly spacious. Even the smallest room is large enough for a bed and a desk, which would be great to use as study and a guest room for our parents to stay in when they came to visit.

Kate immediately claims the room with the largest closet, which is fine with Christian as the other bedroom doesn’t share any walls.

“Well, what do you think?” Lauren asks when we make it downstairs.

“Anastasia?” Christian asks, leaving it up to me to answer.

“It’s perfect!” Kate says, not waiting for my reply.

“It’s perfect,” I agree with a sigh.

“What’s the asking price?” Christian asks.

“The owner has just lowered it to $605,000,” Lauren says, and I nearly choke as my breath gets caught in my throat. Christian however, doesn’t seem to be deterred by the price tag that is more than half a million dollars.

“Have you had any other offers?” Christian asks.

“None so far.”

“And how many people have viewed the property?”

“A few…” Lauren responds hesitantly.

“Can you give us just a minute please?” Christian asks politely, and she agrees with a bright smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

“What do you think?” he asks.

“I think we should take it!” Kate says excitedly. “This place is perfect!”

“Ana?”

“I don’t know… $605,000?” I ask, feeling uneasy just speaking the number aloud.

“Let me call my dad,” Christian says. He kisses me softly on the lips before he pulls out his phone, and I stand anxiously with Kate, looking around at the thoughtful finishes in the room around me. This place really is beautiful.

“Thanks, Dad.” Christian says a few minutes later and hangs up the phone. “Looks like it’s a go.”

Kate squeals and the sound makes Christian roll his eyes as he turns to walk into the kitchen.

“So what do we think?” Lauren asks.

“We’ll take it!” Kate says excitedly, but Christian holds up his hand to silence her.

“We’ll counter offer $580,000.” He says, and the agent frowns.

“$580,000?”

“Cash,” Christian says simply.

“The asking price is $605,000.” Lauren says with a smile.

“Yes, but the median price for a home in this neighborhood is $568,000.”

“Well, this a corner lot,” Lauren says. “The property is bigger and comes with private parking and brand new finishes.”

“Which is why I’m not offering $560,000,” Christian says. The agent’s smile falters again and, as I glance between them, Christian’s gaze never falters.

“Let me see if I can get the owner on the phone,” Lauren suggests. She pulls out her cellphone, holding up a finger to signal us that she needs a minute and disappears back into the living room.

“What are you doing Christian? You’re going to lose us the house!” Kate exclaims.

“No I won’t,” He replies. “This house has been on the market for sixteen months and the housing market is on the decline. They need to sell it quickly but they haven’t got any offers. They’ll take it.”

“How do you know that?” I ask, impressed.

“I pulled the property records for this and a few other houses in this neighborhood. It’s a nice house, but it’s overpriced. But if this is the house you want, this is the house we’ll buy.”

I bite down on my lip, do I really want this house? It is really expensive, but I suppose any house this close to campus will be, and there really isn’t a suitable apartment that isn’t nearly four and a half thousand dollars a month… and if the option is here or that crappy apartment we saw yesterday, I’d definitely prefer to live here.

And that’s when it really hits me for the first time. Christian is about to buy me a house. Sure, we’ll live with Kate and Elliot, but he’s not just buying a place to stay for a few years while we finish school, he’s buying this house for me. That’s a serious commitment, a really serious commitment. Maybe Kate isn’t wrong… Could a proposal be in my near future?

I glance nervously over at Lauren, who is standing next to the window in the living room, gesturing wildly with her hands. Kate’s fingers drum on the marble countertops as we anxiously wait for Lauren to hang up the phone. Finally, she does and she walks back over to us with a huge smile on her face.

“Well, should we begin the paperwork?” She asks, and Kate shrieks once with glee before nodding expeditiously.

Christian deals with most of the forms Lauren has in her briefcase while Kate and I take another look through the house, checking hall closets and coming up with design concepts and storage solutions.

“I think we’ll need to get curtains in here,” Kate says, staring at the window in the guest room thoughtfully. “The room faces West which means it’ll get a lot of heat in the evening.”

It’s fun to go through each room and plan where furniture we haven’t bought yet will go or if we’ll want to paint the walls, and if we do, what color they should be. It’s a good way to kill time, too as Christian takes forever with Lauren downstairs.

“Are you two ready to go?” Christian calls up to us eventually. We head down the stairs and see him signing something and then shaking Lauren’s hand. Lauren shakes both mine and Kate’s hand one last time and then shows us out the door.

“Can you believe we just bought a house?” Kate asks, excitedly once we’re in Christian’s Audi.

“Honestly, no,” I reply with an incredulous laugh. “My mom’s going to freak when I tell her.”

“Elliot!” Kate suddenly gasps. “We’ve got to call Elliot!”

“You didn’t tell Elliot?” I ask, shocked.

“He was busy last night and I haven’t talked to him this morning,” Kate replies defensively.

“I’ve got it,” Christian says, using the button on his dash to place the call through the car. It rings three times before he answers.

“What’s up, Adolf Tit-ler?” Elliot says, laughing the second his insult comes out of his mouth.

“You’re on speaker.” Christian replies.

“Oh…” Elliot asks, sounding nervous, probably because he knows Carrick is in town. “Who is it?”

“Ana and Kate,” Christian says.

“Oh, well then, what’s up, Benito Douche-olini?” He laughs again, harder this time. “Whew, I crack myself up.”

“I’m glad your jokes make someone laugh,” Christian says.

“Whatever, you have no sense of humor,” Elliot replies. “What’s up?”

“We just bought a house!” Kate exclaims.

“You… what?”

“We just bought a house!” Kate repeats. “Elliot, we bought a house!”

“What do you mean you bought a house? I thought we were renting an apartment?”

“Everything was terrible,” Christian says. “So, Kate called a realtor, we found a house, and Mom and Dad gave us the cash.”

“You’re fucking with me, right?” Elliot asks.

“No!” Kate says. “We really just bought a house. Elliot, it’s beautiful. I took a ton of pictures! I’ll email them to you when I get back to campus!”

“Oh my god!” Elliot says. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” I tell him.

“Holy shit! What’s it like?”

“It’s two stories and it’s all renovated and it has three bedroom and three bathrooms and Christian actually got us a great deal on it!” Kate says, her words coming out in a fast torrent.

“It is beautiful,” I add in agreement with Kate.

“Sounds great!” Elliot says. “I can’t wait to see it!”

“We can go over there when you fly up for Christian’s trial. We might even be moved in by then!” Kate exclaims.

“Whoa, there Kate,” Christian says. “Slow down a little bit. There is still a lot of paperwork to be done. Then we’ll have to wait for the owners to move out, we have to have inspections done, and furnish the place.”

“Semantics,” Kate shrugs.

“Hold on. Yeah, I’m coming,” Elliot says to someone on his end of the phone. “Hey guys, I’ve got to get back into the research lab. I’ll call you later tonight after you send me the pictures, Kate.”

“Sounds good,” She replies.

“Great. Talk to you later,” He says, and the phone goes dead.

“When do you think we’ll be able to move in?” Kate asks, but Christian shrugs.

“I don’t know, the weekend after finals? Maybe the week after?”

“But we’ll be gone by then!” Kate exclaims.

“Well…” Christian begins, looking hesitantly over at me. “What do you think about maybe, not going home for the summer?”

“Like at all?” I ask.

“We just bought a house, so we have somewhere to live. We could spend the summer fixing it up, painting the walls, buying furniture… We’ll take a trip over a week or two to both Savannah and Seattle to see our families, but spend the rest of the time here. Kate and Elliot will be in Seattle, so we’ll have the place to ourselves.”

“I don’t know… uh, maybe,” I say, thinking it over. I guess I won’t be losing any time with my parents and I won’t have to worry about getting all my stuff back or into storage over the summer. Besides, wasn’t it always a possibility that we’d have to get an apartment in Seattle anyway, since Carrick and Grace seemed hesitant to have a guest all summer? Maybe this is better…

“I think it’s the best option,” Christian says diplomatically. “We’ll spend equal amounts of time with our families and we’ll still be together all summer. Besides, the work has to be done and we won’t have any free time to do it before the end of term.”

“Okay,” I agree. “Sounds like a plan.”

“You two aren’t allowed to buy any furniture without sending me pictures first,” Kate warns, and I laugh.

“Don’t worry, Kate. You’ll be involved in every step of the process.”

We make our way back to campus, eager to meet Ros for dinner, but just as we’re about to leave our dorm, I get a call on my cell from a number I don’t recognize. Normally, I’d reject it, but it’s a 206 area code. It’s someone from back home.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hi Anastasia, it’s Carrick.”

“Oh, hi,” I reply, pulling the phone away and mouthing it’s your Dad to Christian. He looks at me curiously, as if he doesn’t understand why his Dad would be calling me, while I turn my attention back to the call.

“I was wondering,” Carrick continues. “If you’d like to join me for dinner tonight? I’ve made reservations in town for the two of us.”

“The two of us?” I ask, noting that he’s not including Christian in his plans.

“Yes, we haven’t spent much time together since all of this stuff with Elena came out and I’d really like to thank you for what you’ve done and maybe pick your brain about Christian a little bit.”

“Okay.”

“Is a half an hour okay with you? I can stop by campus and pick you up.”

“Uh, yeah… That sounds good.” I tell him.

“Great. I’ll see you soon, Ana,” Carrick says, and once I say “bye”, he hangs up.

“What was that about?” Christian asks.

“Your Dad wants to take me out to dinner.”

“Just you?”

“Is that okay?” I ask, and he shrugs.

“Did he tell you why?”

“I think he just wants to talk. He said we hadn’t had much time one on one… I think that’s normal when your son gets in a serious relationship with someone,” I tell him, trying to keep a straight face through my half-lie. I don’t know why, but I feel like it would be a bad idea to tell Christian his Dad wants to talk about him. He doesn’t generally take it very well when he’s the focus of his family’s concern and he’s already been on edge since Carrick got to town and started drilling him for the trial, enough so that I was still a little sore this morning… But if I can provide anything that will ensure Elena is found guilty, I have to meet with him.

“Hey, are you guys ready for dinner?” Kate asks, popping her head through Christian’s door as she heads out for Annenberg.

“Just you and me tonight,” Christian says, although he doesn’t take his eyes off of me.

“What?” Kate asks, but rather than answer, Christian leans over, kisses me on the cheek, and picks up his keys off the desk by the door.

“Don’t be out too late,” He says, and I nod as he disappears through the door with a confused looking Kate.

Twenty minutes later, Carrick pulls up to the curb where I’m waiting and drives off towards Rialto, a small Italian restaurant that is one of Kate’s favorites. The host directs us to a table in the middle of the restaurant and leaves us with menus and glasses of ice water.

“How is school going, Ana?” Carrick asks pleasantly as he scans the menus. “Finals are coming up, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, I have few classes that are just doing papers or projects for the end of the term so I only have a couple tests to study for, but it’s going good. I’m a little bit farther behind than I’d like to be with all this stuff for the trial going on, but I’ll get caught up.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that you’ve been able to focus on school with everything that’s happened this semester. I bet you’re ready for the summer holidays.”

“You don’t even know,” I laugh in agreement.

“Will you be coming back to Seattle with Christian?”

“Oh uh, actually… I think Christian wanted to stay here. We just started all the paperwork for the house, he thought we could spend the summer getting settled in. With trips back to Seattle and Savannah, of course,” I add quickly.

“Oh. Well, I suppose he’s old enough to make that choice. Mia will be upset though. She’s always been very close to Christian.”

“I know, I hadn’t really thought of that… But she’s welcome to come visit anytime she wants, we’ll have a guest room,” I tell him. “And thank you, by the way. The house is beautiful and it was so unbelievably generous of you and Grace to offer to buy it for Christian and Elliot.”

“I have a son at Harvard and son at MIT,” Carrick says with a broad smile. “It’s the least a very proud parent could do.”

I laugh graciously and reach out for a drink of water as the waiter appears to take our order. When we’ve made our selections, Carrick turns back to me.

“I don’t know if we’ve had the chance to tell you, Anastasia,” He says. “But Grace and I are really, very happy Christian found you. I can’t even tell you how much of a change we’ve seen in him these past few months. You know he used to fight with us about Elliot coming here so often? Now, it seems as though Elliot spends just as much time here as he does in San Francisco and Christian hasn’t said a word. He calls his mother now, twice a week, every week, and I can’t tell you how happy that makes her. Before you, Christian wouldn’t even answer our calls unless he was waiting on us for something, and he never called the house except to talk to Mia.”

“You’ve brought something out of him we haven’t seen in years. He’s allowing himself to be part of our family again and we’re sure it’s because he fell in love with you. You see, Christian has always dwelled on negative things. His childhood was traumatizing and he’s never felt that happiness is safe. Happiness to him was always a risk, something that could be taken away and would leave him unable to cope with bad times again, and the older he got, the worse it got. But I think loving you has helped him move past that fear and he’s opened himself back up to us. You’ve made happiness safe for him and we can’t thank you enough for that.”

“Really, Carrick, I haven’t done anything. Your son is an amazing man and very easy to love. I’m just glad I get to know him,” I tell him, feeling myself blush.

“So are we. I just can’t wait for all of this legal business to be over so we can all get back to normal,” Carrick says. “How is Christian doing, by the way? How has he been handling everything?”

“Fine,” I tell him. “He’s really shifted a lot of focus to school. I think it helps take his mind of everything.”

“He seems to be fairly reluctant,” Carrick says, carefully. “Whenever I’ve met with him to discuss the case, he seemed to be sort of… unfocused, and focus has never been one of Christian’s problems.”

“Can you blame him?” I ask. “He didn’t ever really want this to get out in the first place and now he’s having to detail very… personal things about his sex life for court records. I think that would be difficult for anyone and if you add on BDSM and the fact that it was all with Elena… I just think he’s… uncomfortable, and Christian usually shut down when he’s uncomfortable.”

“I agree,” He says. “I’ve had my own concerns about that very issue. It’s because I know that Christian is notoriously difficult to work with when he’s being forced to do something he doesn’t want to do, that I’ve stepped in to work directly with him. But there’s no way around the uncomfortable subject matter, it’s the very heart of the case. We’ll just have to be patient with him. Push him when we can, and back off when we have to.”

I nod in agreement as the waiter sets heaping plates of pasta in front of us. We eat quietly for a moment before Carrick begins asking me questions pertaining to the trial. I describe some of the altercations I’ve had with Elena and different things Christian has told me about their past. I don’t really have anything to add that Christian hasn’t already told him, but when I’m finished Carrick asks me, if I’d be comfortable testifying if the prosecution called me to the stand.

“Of course,” I assure him. “I’ll do whatever it takes.’

“Good,” Carrick says, smiling gratefully across the table at me. “I don’t think they’ll call you, most of what you know they’ll get from Christian’s testimony. But, it’s always good to be prepared.”

“Okay,” I agree.

“Excellent,” Carrick says, smiling again. He hands the black book with the money for our meal to the waitress and asks her to keep the change. “Are you ready?”

“Mm-hm,” I mumble as I take a sip of water. Carrick pulls my chair out for me and I lead the way back to the car, pulling my jacket over me once we step through the restaurant door. Even in late April, the night air is still a little chilly.

Carrick puts on some old rock music from the ’70s that I don’t recognize once we’re in the car, and when I wrinkle my nose at the lead singer’s screechy voice, he proceeds to explain to me exactly what made RUSH one of the greatest rock bands of the 1970s, and promises to get me some of their records so I can “check them out“.

“Seriously, Ana,” He says once we pull over on the street that winds around Grays, “Working Man defined my high school career.”

“Okay, Mr. Grey,” I tell him with a laugh as I get out of the car. He waves through the passenger window to me and waits for me to make it through the archway that leads to the campus before he drives away. I have to admit to myself, the band is pretty catchy. I find myself humming the few seconds of the song I remember over and over again as I make my way up to Christian’s room.

“Working Man?” Christian asks, looking up from his homework with an amused smirk when I enter the room, still humming. “Let me guess, you got the sound of a generation speech?”

“No,” I tell him. “The defined my high school career one.”

“Ah, that’s a good one,” Christian says. “Once when Elliot was twelve and I was ten, my Dad started making ridiculous claims about how RUSH was the greatest foreign invasion since the Beetles, and my mom made the mistake of saying she had always liked Foreigner better. After that, every time he started going on and on about RUSH, Elliot and I would start singing Jukebox Hero until he stopped.”

I laugh. “Well my Dad’s a fan of country music so I never had to deal with nostalgic rock bands, just George Strait and Patsy Cline.”

“Ugh, that’s worse,” He says, grimacing and shaking his head as I put my coat on the hook and begin digging through my bag for study materials. I take my laptop, notebook, and a few books to Christian’s bed, and am about to begin with my reading until I realize he’s still looking at me expectantly.

“What did you two talk about?” He asks, standing up and coming to sit on the bed next to me.

“Well, he said that you’ve changed since we’ve started dating,” I tell him. “And then we talked about the trial a little bit.”

“What about the trial?” Christian asks.

“Just things Elena has said and you have said. I don’t think I gave him anything new so we didn’t talk about it long.”

“And that’s it? He just asked you questions? Did he ask you for a signed statement?”

“No.”

“Oh,” Christian says, surprise. “Well, okay then.” His mood changes as he stares down at my lips and leans in closer to me. “What do you want to do now?”

I lean over so that my lips are just inches from his and whisper in the sultriest voice I can muster, “I want to… Study.”

“You sure do know how to ruin the mood,” He frowns, and I laugh and kiss him once before he gets off the bed and returns to his own work. It’s a long night, but it’s productive. I’ve competed one paper that’s due finals week and caught up on my reading for all my classes. Christian’s laptop closes just as I am responding to an email from Carter asking for a time we can all meet to go over the final piece of our Business Writing portfolios.

“Wait, I’m almost finished,” I say as Christian climbs onto the bed and leans over my laptop to kiss me. I try to look around him at the computer screen, but his hands clasp the side of my face to keep me focused on him.

“I’ve just got to send this email,” I protest when I’m able to pull my lips away from his. He isn’t deterred though. He begins kissing my neck and undoing the buttons on my shirt.

“Do it in the morning,” He says huskily, and I shiver slightly as he runs his tongue up the side of my neck and then nibbles gently on my earlobe.

“But…” I try to argue, but he’s gotten my shirt undone and his mouth moves down to my cleavage, his hands grasping each of my breasts firmly through my bra, pushing them together. “Oh, never mind,” I moan.

He reaches down and closes my laptop, placing it on the bedside table and sweeps the rest of my study materials onto the floor without ever removing his mouth from my breasts. I lean back into the pillows and begin fumbling with the buttons on my jeans. He helps me pull them off, quickly followed by my panties, and then unclasps my bra, leaving me naked beneath him without having removed any of his own clothes. I whimper at the injustice of it all.

“Eager?” He asks.

“I want to feel you against me,” I moan.

“Like this?” He asks, pressing his erection, still encased in his pants, against between my legs.

“No,” I breathe. “Take off your clothes.”

He moans lowly and kisses my neck one last time before rising up onto his knees. He drags a sweater and then his t-shirt over his head, but before he can begin to undo his fly, he stops and stares down at me, concentrating on my body as if he’s inspecting me.

“You really are the most beautiful thing in the world,” He says with awe. He reaches down and rolls my right nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “I don’t know what I could have done to deserve such perfection.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” I tell him, reaching out and closing my fingers over his erection through his pants. His breath hisses through his teeth and the gray in his eyes darkens.

“Take it out,” He whispers, and I do as he commands without hesitation. I smile as my hand reaches through his open fly, past the band of his Calvin Kleins, and wraps around him. He pulls gently down on his clothes, revealing himself to me and I take the opportunity to run my tongue up the entirety of his length.

“Yessss,” He breathes when my lips close around the head of his erection. “Suck me, baby.”

I moan appreciatively as I encase him with my mouth, pulling him to the back of my throat and then releasing him. I alternate between sucking him, licking him, and even just leaving gentle kisses all the way up his erection. His fingers twist into my hair with frustration as I tease him with just the tip of my tongue and he guides my mouth back onto him. I laugh once at his ardor, and then really focus on my task, using my hand in conjunction with my mouth to really bring him to the edge.

“Fuck, Ana!” He cries. As gently as I can, I bare my teeth and then circle my tongue around the head of his erection again. “Jesus,” He moans. He pulls away and pushes me back onto the bed, hovering over me as he pulls my legs apart.

“You’re so wet for me,” He groans approvingly, dragging his middle and index finger up my opening. I squirm at his touch, lifting my hips towards him, encouraging him to take me. He stares down at me for a moment, appraising me once more as he inches towards me.

“So fucking beautiful,” He says under his breath, and then he slams into me. I cry out as the pleasure washes over me, continuing on and on as he moves furiously in and out of me. He’s not holding back, taking me hard and rough while his hands explore the familiar territory of my body. I can’t hold back my cries of ecstasy as he hits that perfect place inside of me over and over again with deep, pounding thrusts that electrify my entire body with pleasure.

“That’s it baby, scream for me. Say my name.”

“Christian!” I call out. “Oh fuck, Christian!”

“God, I love the sound of that,” He growls, and without warning, he grips my hips and flips me onto my front, pulling my hips into the air before slapping me hard on my behind and plunging back inside of me. His fingers are digging into my waist as he tries to keep me in place while he pounds on and on. He’s never been this rough before, never quite so fervent, and it’s driving me insane. I’m literally out of my mind as I grip his expensive Egyptian cotton sheets and scream his name over and over again, begging for more.

His hands move from my hips and grab onto my behind. He places his thumbs on my outer lips while he continues to thrust inside of me and as he pulls upwards, I can see why. It stretches me tighter around him and I can feel the movement pull around my clitoris. I cry out a loud, shaky sound and he does it again. As he does I can feel the deep, encouraging heat beginning to build inside of me, and I moan into the pillow.

“Come, Ana,” He urges me. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel it.”

Again, he moves me, shifting me back onto my back, and I’m so surprised this time, I yelp. Impressively though, he managed to stay inside of me while he changed position and was immediately able to pick his pace back up. His arm hooks under my knee and he pulls my leg up so that he can lean further into me, push further into me, and I practically growl my approval I’m so intoxicated by the sensation.

“Give it up to me, baby,” He whispers. “I want to watch you come apart.” He props my leg up onto his shoulder, using his free hand to roll his thumb over my clitoris, and the extra stimulation immediately sends me over the edge. I cry out his name as I come, gloriously, around him. He says something, but I’m too lost in euphoria for his words to register, all that I do recognize is that his thrusts are coming harder now, just this side of too hard.

“I’m going to come, baby,” He whispers harshly, his face screwed up with the effort it takes to continue his bruising pace. “Fuck, Ana!”

I’m pressed into the mattress, helpless beneath him, as he pins me down and erupts inside of me. I stare up at his beautiful face, watching him as he comes undone, gasping slightly with each thrust. When his movement begin to slow I reach up and bring his lips down to mine, kissing him deeply and possessing him with my tongue. He moans as he lowers himself onto me so that we’re pressed against each other, but his weight is fully supported by his elbows.

I don’t release him, I hold him in this kiss until we’re both desperate for air. When we finally break apart, he rolls over next to me and kisses me again, before collapsing down on the pillow.

“That was fucking incredible,” He whispers, and I moan in agreement, a smile creeping across my lips. He turns to look at me and he too, smiles. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

“No, we’re amazing,” I tell him. “We’re perfect together.”

“Mmm,” He moans. “That we are.”

“Thank you,” I tell him softly, and he raises an eyebrow at me.

“You’re thanking me for orgasms now?” He asks skeptically, with a look on his face that tells me he’d rather I didn’t.

“Not for the orgasm, although… bravo, sir. Just, thank you for loving me and giving me the chance to experience all of this with you. I’ve never been as happy in my entire life as I have been these past few months with you.”

“Me either,” He smiles. “You’re everything to me.”

I hum a low, appreciative sound through my responding smile and lean in to kiss him again. After today, a strange roller coaster of excitement, and happiness, and a constant string of reminders that Christian’s trial is fast approaching, when his arms wrap around me, I am purely content. Christian and I have made it through every hurdle we’ve encountered and we’ve come out the other side stronger. We are in a good place, we’re madly in love, and soon, Elena Lincoln will be out of our lives forever. My mind races over the many different times Kate has brought up the idea that Christian might propose soon and I smile to myself as for the first time, it doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.

Next Chapter

On Saturday morning, I wake up and immediately want to groan. We’re leaving today, our perfect tropical vacation is over.

This week has been incredible. I’ve gone hiking through the tropical forest, snorkeling around a beautiful coral reef, deep sea fishing on an amazing luxury yacht, ridden jet skis, had a massage on a pristine white beach, and even, with the gentle encouragement of Christian, gone parasailing. Flying a thousand feet over the water with Christian by my side was just extraordinary. I’m usually so terrified of heights I can hardly handle climbing a ladder, but the comfort of his hand in mine and the obscenely beautiful view of French Polynesia from the sky was too much to pass up, and I loved every second of it.

Christian has been amazing this week, loving and attentive as always but also extremely understanding. As much as I loved experiencing all these new things with him, I also wanted to spend a good deal of time with my Mom. This vacation has really made me see how much I feel the need to have family around after these last few months, and, though I’ll always be grateful to the Greys for their welcoming acceptance of me and will always hold love for them deep in my heart, there just isn’t a replacement for your own mother.

So, while I spent time exploring the little town on the island and relaxing at the spa with my mom, Christian took Mia swimming, or out on the jet skis, or surfing, something I tried once and failed at immediately, devastatingly, in a way that I will never stand on a surf board ever again. I did, however, love laying out on our back deck with my mom, Kate, and Grace, sipping tropical drinks and watching Christian dedicate time to his little sister. He’s always so light with her, like the worries of not getting his business started in the time frame he created for himself, or school, or any of the drama we seem to be constantly facing is lifted off his shoulders and, for a few minutes, he can just be nineteen and have fun.

There were times when we were able to get away just the two of us, much to Elliot’s chagrin. We’ve taken walks on the beach at sunset, had dinner alone at a different resort on the other side of the island, and even one full afternoon just a ways down our own beach, laying out on the sand and swimming together in the water. It’s been perfect, and the sex… The sex has never been better. He told me when we first arrived that he wanted to indulge in me over and over again, and he has. Sometimes hard and rough, other times slow and sensual, but every time completely mind altering. I keep waiting for the time to come when we settle into our routines as a couple and our sex life starts to fizzle a little, not flaming out entirely, but also not burning with the fiery red passion that it has since New Year’s. That hasn’t happened though. Months into our relationship and still, every time, I want him as badly as I did the very first time he ever kissed me.

I take a deep breath and stretch as best I can wrapped tightly in Christian’s arms. My movement stirs him awake and he makes a low, appreciative sound, and squeezes me tighter.

“Mmm,” He moans. “Good morning.”

“Good Morning,” I tell him, turning around and giving him a kiss. “Do we really have to go back today? Can’t we just stay here forever?”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t think you’d get a lot of homework done if there were beach massages and pina coladas available every day.”

“Who needs a degree when you have paradise?” I shrug, and he laughs.

“You do,” He says, and he stretches once and then rolls out of bed. “Come on, get up. Let’s go get breakfast so we can enjoy the water one last time before we have to pack.”

“Okay,” I say mournfully and I roll out of bed, put on a bikini, and wrap a sarong around my waist. It’s my last day here and I want to soak up as much of the warm sun as I can before returning to the chilly spring air of Cambridge.

When Christian and I head down stairs, we find that Kate and Mia have already left to meet the rest of the Greys and only Elliot is left in the house. He’s having trouble finding his shoe and when I get a peak of his room, I see why. Apparently Kate isn’t the only messy one and the two of them together, over the course of an entire week, have left their room a disaster. Christian stares at the mess disapprovingly, but waits for Elliot to find his sandal, which was somehow on the small table across from the bed underneath a t-shirt. Together we walk down the dock to the resort on the beach and find the rest of the family sitting on an outdoor patio, a spread of fresh fruit, pastries, and different juices laid out in front of them.

“Good morning,” Grace says, smiling at us. She seems to be the only one in a good mood. The faces of everyone around us reflect the same mourning I feel for this dream vacation coming to a close. We eat in silence, picking at our food and staring longingly out at the ocean view. I want to have this view permanently burned into my memory.

“Mr. Grey,” A hotel employee asks, coming up to stand next to Carrick. “This has just arrived for you.”

“Thank you,” Carrick replies, taking the thick manila envelope from the employee.

“Is that the bill?” Grace asks, only half interested and she drains the last of her grapefruit juice.

“No, it’s for work,” Carrick says. He lifts the tab on the envelope but merely peaks inside instead of pulling the contents out.

“Carrick, we’ll be back home tomorrow. Couldn’t this have waited?” Grace asks.

“No, I needed Christian for this part,” He replies distractedly, and as he flips through the contents of the envelope, he gets to something that he seems to find unsettling and his eyes close and his lips purse together as if he’s taking a moment to prepare himself. When he finally opens his eyes again, he looks directly at Grace.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you start getting packed, and make sure the kids are ready to go. We can all swim one last time before we leave, maybe even take another ride on the jet skis.”

“What is that?” Grace asks, now looking suspiciously at the envelope in Mr. Grey’s hands.

“It’s nothing, really.”

“It’s about Elena, isn’t it?” Grace asks, and Carrick’s change in facial expression gives him away. “I want to see it.”

“No, you really don’t,” Carrick argues.

“Yes, I do!” Grace retorts.

“No, Grace. You really don’t,” Carrick says with finality. “Trust me. There are some things in here I need to go over with Christian, some… pictures, and you really, really don’t want to see them.”

I feel Christian tense next to me.

“Pictures?” He asks, the trepidation in his voice clear.

“Yes,” Carrick says, and he turns back to his wife. “Please Grace, just take the kids back to their rooms and get packed. I’ll be there to help shortly.”

Grace hesitates for a moment, looking as though she’s trying to decide if she really wants to face what’s in that envelope, but eventually, she nods and asks Elliot and Mia to come with her. Everyone stands from the table and I don’t blame them. The atmosphere around the table is already uncomfortable as I’m sure everyone, despite their best efforts, is imagining what’s in that envelope.

I too stand up, but Christian reaches out to grab my hand.

“Where are you going?” He asks, and I hesitate at the worried look in his eyes. Does he want me to stay? I told him I’d be here for him during all of this but… can I really face this?

“Christian, I don’t think I can handle pictures,” I tell him. “Hearing about it is difficult enough, but seeing it is a different thing entirely.”

He frowns, but nods, and releases my hand. I lean down and kiss him on the cheek. As I walk away, I hear his dad pull the papers out of the envelope and pass them to Christian. When I get back to the bungalow I have to take a brief moment to stop at the door and catch my breath. All sorts of horrible images were running through my mind the entire way back from the restaurant and it takes me a second to clear my head.

One more month. I tell myself. One more month and she’ll be behind bars and out of our lives forever.

These words center me enough that I can take a deep breath, relax, and head up the stairs to pack. I put everything back into my suitcase except a wet bag, a change of clothes, and a hair brush so that I can join the others in one last swim and have a shower before we have to leave for the airport. Once I’m finished packing, Christian still hasn’t returned. I can hear Kate, Elliot, and Mia splashing around outside and I debate whether to join them or wait for Christian to get back. Ultimately, I decide Christian may want me here when he gets back so instead of joining the others, I move to the other side of the bed, pull out his suitcase and begin packing for him.

I leave the same things out of his suitcase that I did mine, feeling a heartwarming kind of thrill that I’m picking out what he’ll be wearing for the rest of the day. Finally, as I pull the zipper on his suitcase closed, I hear his footsteps thudding up the stairs.

“Hey,” I say, turning to look at him, examining his face for signs of distress.

“Hey,” He replies, and he immediately wraps me tightly in his arms.

“How was it?” I ask.

“Awful.”

“What uh… What were the pictures of?” I continue, not really sure I want to know the answer, but also wanting to give him the opportunity to talk if he needs it.

“Mr. Lincoln sent Dad some pictures of Elena’s playroom and he wanted me to confirm everything in the photographs belonged to her and had been used before he sent them off to the prosecutor’s office.”

“What’s a playroom?”

“It’s uh… a room with implements for practicing BDSM sex.” He says awkwardly.

“Oh,” I reply, cringing slightly. “I’m sorry. That must have been really awkward.”

“Awkward? No, I’ve always dreamed of having an intimate sit down conversation with my father to discuss the differences between whips and floggers and the exact purpose of a Queening Bench,” He says sarcastically. I blanch slightly at his reaction, not because of his tone but because of the images whips and floggers bring back to the front of my mind: Christian, handcuffed to a wooden post while Elena hits him again and again, the room echoing the loud crack of her whip.

“I’m sorry,” Christian says quickly. I look up at him and he’s running his hands through his hair, something I’ve noticed he does when he’s stressed or frustrated. “You were right to leave back there. I shouldn’t be talking about these things with you.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to be there for you,” I tell him, but even I don’t feel the conviction of my words with how weak my voice is. Christian looks around the room for something distracting and his eyes fall on the bed behind me.

“You packed for me?” He asks.

“Yeah, everyone’s already out there and it was taking you a while to get back so I thought it would be faster if I just got your stuff together for you.”

He smiles down at me. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Do you want to go swimming?” He asks, and I smile up at him and nod, glad the BDSM tension has dissipated from the room. I cross back over to my side of the bed, pull out a bottle of sunscreen, and begin rubbing the lotion on my skin while Christian pretends not to watch me as he changes into a swimsuit. I’m wearing the dreaded yellow bikini, which I thought was all wrong for my skin tone. It doesn’t look bad now though as I’ve definitely darkened a few shades since we’ve arrived. Christian pulls up his trunks and begins doing the fly, and I bite down on my lip trying to stop the question I know I don’t really want to ask but that has been nagging at me since he brought it up.

“What’s a Queening Bench?” I ask, not looking at him as the words come out of my mouth.

“What?”

“Uh… You said you had to explain the purpose of a Queening Bench. I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s a ben… You know, we really don’t have to talk about it anymore. I’m fine,” He promises me.

“Oh, okay,” I say, taking a towel off the hook by the bathroom door, but the nagging curiosity is still there. I close my eyes, curse my apparent proclivity to masochism, and turn to Christian again. “Except, well… It’s bugging me now, the Queening Bench thing, and if you don’t tell me, I’m probably going to Google it when we get home and the internet might not be as… discreet as you would be.”

“Well…” He hesitates.

“If you really don’t want to tell me, if it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to. Forget about it,” I say, shaking my head and feeling embarrassed by my inquisition.

“No, it’s um… Well it’s a bench about 2 ½ or 3 feet tall and it’s shaped like a ‘T’. You lay down on it so that your, uh… partner can, um… settle themselves down on your face,” He says awkwardly.

“Oh,” I reply, immediately feeling the regret. Maybe the pictures that would’ve surely popped up on the internet would have been better than the images my brain automatically conjures up of Elena and Christian. No, those would have come anyway. I should have just let it go.

“Ready?” Christian asks, trying desperately to move on from the subject.

“Yeah,” I reply, shaking away the queasiness that is beginning to grip my stomach. I reach out for his hand, and he leads me down the stairs and to the back deck.

I discovered my second day here that the deck is a lot higher off the water than I anticipated and the clear water below makes it very difficult to tell where the water level is, which of course makes it look even higher than it is when looking down. So the very first time I tried to leap from the deck like Kate, Elliot, Christian, and even Mia, my stomach seized with panic and I had to climb down the ladder and ease myself in. Elliot has been hounding me about being able to parasail, but not jump off the back deck, but I don’t know if he understands the difference between simply being up high, and having to force yourself to jump off of something. I’ve tried to do it twice more since that first time, but my fear of heights is insurmountable in this case, so I gave up. Now, as we head out to join Kate and Christian’s siblings for one last swim, I walk over to the ladder while Christian performs a graceful swan dive, managing to splash both Kate and Elliot as he hits the water.

We spend about an hour swimming around the deck. I watch, fascinated, as Christian and Kate compete for most impressive dive, while Elliot preforms cannonball after cannonball, seemingly with the sole intention of nearly drowning both Mia and I. After Christian challenges Kate with a backflip off the deck, she climbs the ladder, and with the grace of an Olympic diver, leaps into the air and folds her body into an inward 1 1/2 somersault pike dive. Her body is straight as an arrow when she enters the water and the splash is so subtle, you would think a fish had simply come to the surface and plunged back down again.

“Really?” Christian asks with disbelief when she reemerges with a smug smile on her face.

“Oh, did I forget to mention that I was on the diving team in high school?” She asks innocently, and Christian rolls his eyes.

“Kids!” Grace calls from somewhere up above. “I’ve got drinks and snacks up here if you want. We’re going to start taking the jet skis back.”

We swim over to the ladder and Elliot and Mia fight over who gets to climb up first. Elliot tries to use brute strength to peel his sister away, but she grips onto the metal handles so tightly, Elliot isn’t able to budge her. Christian swims forward, grips Elliot tightly, and heaves him backwards into the water so that Mia can go first and they both continue to wrestle around and force each other under water as Kate and I make our way up to the deck.

“Enough, boys!” Grace calls, laying out a few sandwiches and bottles of water on the back table for us.

“How long do we have?” Mia asks.

“About another hour and a half,” Grace says. Christian and Elliot come up the ladder laughing as they continue to playfully shove one another and Grace turns her attention to them. “Where are the keys to your jet skis?”

“On the table in the living room,” Elliot says, reaching down and taking a huge bite out of one of the sandwiches. She smiles and nods, and then disappears back into the house while we settle down and for lunch.

“We’ve got an hour left.” Mia says, wiping her mouth with a napkin and forcing her last bite down before running back to the edge of the deck.

“Shouldn’t you wait a few minutes before you go swimming?” Kate calls after her, but the only answer she receives is the splashing noise of Mia hitting the water.

“Waiting is for sissies.” Elliot says, draining his water bottle. “Let’s go.”

Kate rolls her eyes but can’t keep the smile off her face as she stands from her chair and walks purposefully to the end of the deck and performs another spectacular dive.

“Do you want to keep swimming?” I ask, turning to Christian but he’s already standing.

“Oh, uh… yeah. For a while. Do you?” He responds.

“Yeah, but only for another twenty minutes or so. I want to take a shower before we leave.”

“Okay,” He says, brushing my cheek affectionately before sprinting to the edge of the dock and disappearing below.

“You coming?” I ask Elliot, but he’s already half way through another sandwich.

“Two seconds,” He replies, his words garbled by too much food in his mouth. I get up from my seat and make my way over to the ladder but pause once more to look over the side of the deck. Nope, it doesn’t look any lower than it did a few days ago. I hesitate for a minute. I want to try it, just once, but I’m terrified. I don’t know if I’d be able to move my body off the edge even if I tried.

“Come on, Ana!” Kate yells from below. “Just try it!”

“Yeah, Ana, jump!” Mia encourages me.

“It’s really not that high,” Kate continues. “Maybe 15 feet, and the water is deep. You’ll be fine. It’s fun!”

“I can’t!” I call back regretfully.

“Alright, leave her alone,” Christian says defensively. “If she doesn’t want to do it, she doesn’t have to.”

“I’ll be the judge of that!” Elliot says behind me and I feel his arms wrap around me and lift me into the air. I scream as adrenaline courses through me and I realize what he’s going to do, and I both try and escape from his hold on me and grip tightly to his neck to prevent him from throwing me over the edge.

“Don’t! Elliot, Don’t!” I scream.

“Put her down, Elliot!” Christian yells angrily, but Elliot just chuckles.

“Getting closer to the edge…” He taunts me.

“Please, Elliot, No!” I cry.

“Elliot, I swear to God, I’ll kick your fucking ass. Put her down, now!” Christian snarls. Elliot stops at the edge of the deck and I grip to him, locking my hands together and holding on as tightly as I can. He pauses and I wait, feeling pure terror as the few seconds he hesitates drag on forever. Eventually though, he sighs, takes a few steps back and places me back down on the deck. The moment I touch the ground, the adrenaline overwhelms me, and I begin crying and gasping for air. Christian appears on the deck a few seconds later and wraps his arms around me.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” I tell him. “I just need a second to calm down. I don’t know why I’m crying, this is so stupid.”

He rubs his hand over my shoulder for a second and then stands up and storms over to his brother.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He demands.

“Whoa, take it easy, Christian. It was just a joke,” Elliot says.

“Do we look like we’re laughing?”

“No. Jesus, calm down. I’m sorry, alright. I wasn’t really going to do it,” Elliot says. I’m finally gaining my composure again and I turn to look at them. Christian is glaring at Elliot so intensely, I’m worried he’ll make good on his promise and hit him.

“I’m fine, Christian,” I say, attempting to placate him. “I’m fine, really.”

“I’m sorry, Ana,” Elliot says, walking away from Christian and over to me. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize you’d freak out so much.”

“It’s fine,” I tell him again. He reaches his hand down and pulls me to my feet. I smile at him so he knows he’s been forgiven, and he smiles back at me briefly before turning around and running over the edge of the dock himself.

“Do you want to go take a shower?” Christian asks. I nod and he wraps an arm around my shoulder to lead me inside. When we get to the sliding glass door though, I stop. Is this how I really want to end this trip, as a terrified mess huddled up on the deck? No. No, I don’t.

I turn around and before I even have time to thing, I sprint towards the end of the deck, too fast for me to stop if I change my mind at the last second. I hear Christian call my name behind me but it’s too late, I take the final step without looking down at the water and launch myself off the deck. I feel the gut wrenching feeling of falling for a second, maybe less, and then splash into the water below. Elation fills me as I realize that I did it, I overcame my fear, and I did it. I kick my legs hard to propel myself upward and the moment I break the surface, I’m laughing with glee.

“Ana!” Kate says, swimming towards me. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great,” I tell her. “I’m really great.”

I turn away from her and swim back to the ladder, climbing upwards to where Christian is waiting, staring down at me with a half confused/half amused expression on his face.

“What was that?” He asks, holding out a towel and wrapping it around me.

“I wanted to do it, and I didn’t want to leave with any regrets,” I tell him. He chuckles slightly, gives me a quick kiss on the lips, and whisks me off to the shower.

A few hours later, we’re all sitting sullenly in the waiting area outside our gate at Faa’a International Airport. No one wants to go home, no one wants this vacation to end. This week has been absolutely perfect.

Christian is sitting in the seat next to me, reading some book on market trends and fluctuations that doesn’t interest me in the slightest. I have a book packed in my bag for myself but instead of reading, I spend the hour we have to wait for our plane’s departure talking with my mom, spending as much time with her as I can before we have to part ways. Part of me feels like I should tell her now that I won’t be coming home for the summer, but I also don’t want to ruin the time we have left with the heartbreak I know that revelation will elicit.

It’s another late flight, so I spend most of the journey back to LA sleeping, but when we land at LAX, we have a last, quick family breakfast before we all have to disperse to our separate gates.

“I’ll be popping in and out of Cambridge over the next few weeks, son,” Carrick tells Christian. We’ve only got a few more weeks until the trial and I want to be absolutely sure we’ve got everything covered before then.”

“Okay, Dad,” Christian says.

“I’ll try to fly up in the next few weeks,” Elliot says to Kate. “This month is kind of busy though, with final projects coming due. I have a lot of research to finish before the trial, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to see you from now until then.”

“Okay,” Kate says sullenly.

I turn to my Mom, who has started crying, and hug her goodbye, promising I’ll call her every day, while Christian says goodbye to Mia. When my mom finally releases me, I give hugs to Bob, the Kavanaghs, and each member of Christian’s family, before taking Christian’s hand and walking with him towards our departure gate, Kate trailing in our wake.

We only have to sit and wait a few minutes before our flight begins boarding and, as we sit in our seats, waiting for the other passengers to file in around us, Kate and I begin looking through the pictures on our respective cameras, laughing as we recall memories from what feels like our very first vacation as members of the Grey family.

It’s late Sunday afternoon when we finally touchdown in Boston. Christian has ordered another town car to take us all back to Cambridge and by the time I reach my dorm in Grays Hall, I’m exhausted.

“You’re staying with me tonight?” Christian asks, as Kate opens our door.

“Yeah, I think I’m going to do some laundry but I’ll come over before I have to go to bed.”

“Alright, I love you,” Christian says.

“I love you too,” I tell him, and he leans over to kiss me before he disappears into his room.

When Kate finally gets the door unlocked, I drag my suitcase into our room behind me and drop it on my bed. We’re both quiet as we move morosely around the room to put our things away. Most of what’s in here isn’t appropriate for the weather in Cambridge, so I debate whether or not I really need to do my laundry tonight. I decide though, that I’m not going to want to do it anymore later than I do now, so I pull my laundry basket out of the bottom of my closet and take the clothes directly out of my suitcase and pile them into the basket.

“You’re going to go do laundry?” Kate asks.

“Might as well,” I tell her.

“I’ll go with you,” She says, pulling her own laundry basket out. I pick up the sundress in my suitcase, but once I pull it out, something heavy falls to the floor and rolls across the room.

“What is this?” Kate asks as she leans down to pick it up.

“I don’t know,” I say, placing the dress in the laundry basket and crossing the room to check it out. It’s a small glass bottle with a cork stopper and it’s filled with white sand. There is a tag around the neck of the bottle and when I turn it around to read what it says, I recognize Christian’s handwriting immediately.

Bora Bora, French Polynesia. March 26th 2008.

“Awh, that’s cute,” Kate says. “You guys could do something like this for every vacation you go on together. Think of how great that would be to have.”

“Yeah,” I say, smiling as I reach out and take the bottle. This is such a wonderful gesture, something for me to keep and remember this amazing vacation. Just a small bottle of sand and the thoughtfulness behind it means more to me than any of the diamonds he’s ever bought for me.

“Christian’s really great.” Kate says, smiling over at me. “That’s really romantic and it’s great that you have a guy who thinks of stuff like that. Elliot never would,” She adds, rolling her eyes.

“I know. I’m lucky,” I reply.

“I was really hoping he was going to propose,” Kate says. “I mean, sunset on the beach in Bora Bora! Could you imagine a more romantic proposal?”

“He’s not going to propose, Kate. Not for a while anyway. He knows I want to wait until I graduate.”

“Whatever you say…” She says, though the high pitch of her voice leads me to think she doesn’t believe me. “Can I ask one question though?”

“What?” I ask, as I open the door and we head out into the hallway.

“What color bridesmaids dress are you going to choose? Because I don’t look great in pastels.” I laugh, and push her playfully with my basket as I follow her downstairs to the laundry room.

Luckily, bikinis don’t take up much space in the washing machine so we get away with only two loads each, colors and whites. While we wait for them to finish in the dryer, we sit on the folding table in the back corner of the room and play cards. Time goes by fairly quickly and we have everything folded and ready to put away by dinner time. I’m surprised though, as we leave the laundry room, and run into Ros at the staircase. Especially since she doesn’t look very happy.

“Hey Ros, what’s up?” I ask, and her expression changes into a smile when she sees me.

“Hi, Ana. Kate. How was your vacation?” She asks.

“It was great! We really had a wonderful time. Is everything okay?” I ask again.

“Your boyfriend,” She sighs, shaking her head. “He got an investment offer today.”

“What?” I ask, suddenly alarmed. Shit, maybe I read the last few weeks wrong. Oh my god, are they leaving?

“Oh, don’t worry. It was a terrible offer. I don’t even know why he brought it up to me. He’s grasping at straws, I think. This was his last option and it’s not going to work. I think he’s just going to stop looking for a while, and honestly, it’s a relief to me, but not so much to him.”

I feel my body relax. He’s giving up? Oh thank God.

“You guys heading to dinner?” Ros asks.

“Sure,” Kate says. “We’ll meet you there. We just have to drop off this laundry first.”

“Okay, see you there!” She says, and she waves back at us as she leaves the building. I’m shocked once we make it back to our own room that Kate actually puts her newly folded clothes away instead of leaving them in the basket like she always does. Perhaps I’m finally having a good influence on her.

“Ready?” Kate asks when we’ve finished.

“I’ll catch up with you,” I tell her. “I’m gonna grab Christian real quick.”

She nods and we leave together, but she continues on down the hallway while I let myself into Christian’s room.

“Hey,” I say, once I’ve stepped through the door. He’s sitting at his desk scowling at the computer screen.

“Hey,” He half-heartedly replies.

“You wanna get some dinner?” I ask.

“I suppose,” He says, sighing as he closes the screen of his laptop.

“I’m sorry about your business deal,” I tell him, and he looks up at me confused.

“How did you know about that?”

“I ran into Ros downstairs,” I reply, and he shakes his head exasperatedly.

“Ros has a big mouth,” He says. I laugh, and  he leans over in front of me to pick up his keys, so I take advantage and give him a swift peck on the cheek.

“What was that for?” He asks, the earlier frustration in his eyes now replaced by warm affection.

I can’t tell him it’s because I’m secretly happy that I now know he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon, so I settle for, “Because I love you.”

He smiles down at me, kisses me on the lips, and takes my hand to lead me down to Annenberg.

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