The exhaustion disappears the instant I feel Dr. Baker’s hands on my arm, removing the last of the wires monitoring my heart and the IV from the port in my elbow. I stare almost in disbelief as the last line is removed from my body.

“Do you think you can sit up?” Dr. Baker asks.

“Yes, of course,” I reply, enthusiastically.

Christian reaches his hands out and my whole body feels as though it’s shaking when I take them. Slowly, he helps me into a sitting position, and then to swing my legs off the side of the bed. I was reduced to oral pain killers last night, rather than intravenous, so moving is a little painful, but I do everything I can to hide it. I won’t let anything make Dr. Baker change her mind now.

“Alright. Easy, baby,” Christian says as I pull against his sturdy grip and try to stand. The pain spikes as my weight is transferred to the floor and when I groan, he hurriedly reaches for the wheelchair a few feet away.

“How is that, Ana? Any pain, dizziness, nausea?” Dr. Baker checks.

“No, I’m fine. I’m ready.”

“That’s very good news,” she says, smiling and then looking up at Christian. “I think we’re ready to downgrade her from the ICU. We’ll move her to a private suite on the maternity floor so she’s closer to Calliope. I’ll continue monitoring her there, but if she continues to progress as well as she has been, I don’t think she’ll need to be here much longer.”

“Really? So, she’s in the clear? There’s no longer any reason for us to be concerned…?”

“I don’t think so,” Dr. Baker assures him. “We’ll keep her a couple more days, but she’s really made a remarkable recovery, very quickly. You were right, Mr. Grey. She just needed to do things in her own time. She’s going to be fine.”

He lets out an elated breath. “That’s excellent news. Thank you.”

“Christian. Baby!” I exclaim, turning around and giving him a frustrated look.

“Oh, right. Let’s go. Thank you again, Dr. Baker.”

“Of course. Go enjoy your baby. She really is beautiful, Anastasia.”

I nod eagerly and Christian begins to push me forward. My nerves mount as we make it through the door and travel the long, bustling hallway towards the elevator. The NICU is only a floor down from my room but even just the short elevator ride feels as though it goes on for an eternity. My entire body is trembling with anticipation, like a runner trying to hold his position at the starting mark of a race. I hate that I’m confined to this chair. I hate that I can’t sprint to her the way I want to. Every step it takes to get to the NICU is agony, and I think it’s because, despite Dr. Baker’s assurances, I haven’t entirely accepted this is really happening yet. I’ve been denied this so many times, I feel as though any minute something will go wrong or someone will change their mind and I’ll be dragged back to my room. In fact, I’m not entirely convinced this isn’t just a dream until we round the corner and I see Kate, Mia, and Elliot hovering outside the doors that lead into the NICU, dressed head to toe in the same light pink medical gowns I’ve seen Christian peel off a hundred times after returning from Calliope’s bedside.

“There she is, there she is,” Mia says giddily.

“Hey, Meems,” I greet her as we come to stop. She hesitates for a moment, and then leans forward to give me a tentative hug that grows more ardent when I don’t immediately shatter into a thousand pieces like a china doll. “I’m so happy to see you up and around. You really scared us, you know.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, promise.”

“I’m holding you to that,” she says, pulling away with a large smile plastered across her face. I return the gesture and then look to Kate.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“Great. Dr. Baker says I’m going to be fine. Is she really in there? Calliope?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “She’s really in there. You have to wear this though.” She holds out the sheet of pink plastic in her hands and I quickly slip my arms through the thin sleeves. Next, Elliot hands me a mask and paper-like covers for my hair and feet, and once I’m completely covered, Christian wheels me over to a hand sanitizer dispenser.

“Alright,” he says as I rub the alcohol over my hands. “Let’s go.”

I take a deep breath when he pushes me through the doors and we begin passing several plastic boxes surrounded by worried looking parents. I glance at each one, wondering which of the incubators is holding my daughter, but as we make it near the back of the NICU and I see Grace and Carrick cooing over a box filled with baby pink blankets, my search is over.

“Isn’t she the most perfect thing you’ve ever seen?” Grace asks. “I could just eat her up.”

“I’d settle for just being able to hold her,” Carrick replies. His finger strokes softly against the plastic casing just as we come up beside them, and when Grace looks up and sees me in the chair, her face immediately breaks into a smile.

“Ana, darling. Come here. There’s someone who wants to meet you very much.” I smile as she steps aside and lets Christian push me right up to the side of the incubator so that I can peer through the clear plastic at the tiny baby inside.

Despite the fact that I’ve thought of nothing else but this exact moment for almost three days, I’m unprepared for how seeing her for the first time makes me feel. I’m immediately absorbed in the small, delicate features of her face, the curve in her lips, the flutter in her eyelids as she sleeps. As I stare at her, memorizing her, counting each of her soft little breaths, I feel my heart begin to ache. Not from sadness or pain, but from overwhelming love. It’s instant, irreversible, and all consuming. Grace, Christian, Dr. Baker, Kate, my dad… they’re all right. She’s absolutely beautiful. I’ve never seen a face so perfect, so angelic, as my daughter’s. She’s mesmerising.

“She’s so small,” I whisper as I place my hand against the plastic box surrounding her.

“But she’s already putting on weight,” a voice says behind me, and I turn to see a doctor in a white coat smiling at me. “You must be Anastasia?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Dr. Craig, I’ve been watching over Calliope for the past few days. You should be very proud, she’s a fighter.”

“Just like her mother,” Christian says.

“I’ve heard,” Dr. Craig says, her smile widening as she looks up at him. She takes a step closer to the incubator, and her eyes seem to warm as she looks down at my baby. “Ah, do you see the way her mouth is moving?”

I look down and watch my baby’s lips pucker and relax a few times before she falls still again and then nod.

“She’s trying to suckle. We have her on a feeding tube now, but I think she’s ready to try eating on her own. Are you up to it?”

“Me? I can feed her?”

“Of course you can, Anastasia. I know this can be overwhelming, but she’s really yours. All yours.”

I let out an almost incredulous sounding laugh through the smile that’s so big, it makes my cheeks feel sore, and Dr. Craig reaches down to place a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Dr. Baker told me she’s having you moved to this floor. Why don’t you go get situated, and we’ll bring her to you in just a minute.”

“Wait, she’s leaving the NICU?” Christian asks.

“She’s breathing on her own, she’s gaining weight, she’s maintaining her body temperature… I think she’s ready to give it a try, at least to breastfeed. In fact, once she’s eating on her own, I think she should be just about ready to go home.”

“Already?”

“You have a very strong willed daughter, Mr. Grey. Good luck with her, you’re going to need it.”

Grace gasps and when I turn to look at her, I see her reach up to cover her smile with her hand as tears of joy well in her eyes. It’s a trigger, and immediately, I feel my own bottom lip begin to quiver.

“Let’s go,” I say, looking up at Christian from my chair. “I wanna hold her.”

“Okay.”

He reaches for the handles on the back of the wheelchair and I glance down at Calliope once more.

“I’ll see you in minute, okay? I love you.” My fingers move against the plastic shield between us, trying to grip it as though doing so will make her feel my desire to squeeze her, and with one last lingering look, Christian wheels me away.

The room the NICU nurse leads us to is really just a few doors down, which makes me happy. As long as Calliope has to remain in the NICU, I want to be as close to her as possible. Now that I’m no longer confined to my room in the ICU, I should be free to spend as much time with her as possible, the way Christian has been able to for the last six days.

“Here you are, Miss Steele,” the nurse says, motioning us through the door to my new room. I smile at her but when I get a glimpse of Taylor behind her, looking as though he’s interviewing (maybe even interrogating) a male nurse just down the hallway while Luke takes his picture, my smile falters.

“What’s that about?” I ask Christian, nodding in their direction.

“Oh, they’re just screening the nursing staff.  We need records and documentation of anyone who may come in contact with you while you’re here.”

“Why?”

“It’s just a precaution. Don’t worry about it.” He gives me a placating smile that I immediately see through and my eyes automatically narrow in suspicion.

“What happened? And don’t lie to me.”

He takes a steadying breath. “We’ll talk about it later.”

I press my lips together in frustration, but decide not to push the issue until after I’ve had time with him and Calliope together, alone. He probably thinks I’ll forget or maybe will just let it go, but I won’t. I haven’t forgotten what happened just before my abruption. I know he’s here somewhere.

Christian and the nurse help me get into bed and for a few minutes I’m surrounded by family, talking happily amongst each other about my daughter and the lives they’ve put on hold back home over this past week while Calliope and I hung in limbo. Kate was supposed to take her place as Vice President of Kavanagh Media on Monday, and now that she’s no longer worried about me, she happily shares her excitement about this next step in her life with the Greys. Even my dad ignores the game Elliot found on TV to share in the joyful atmosphere of the room.

“I’ll get used to it,” Kate says airily. “Brand new apartment, a corner office on the 22nd floor… You’re on the 8th floor at GEH, aren’t you, Christian?”

“Yes, Kate,” he replies, his voice deadpan. “You are clearly superior to me in every way.”

“Takes a strong man to admit it.” She laughs but then moves across the room to give him a hug from the side and as he squeezes her back he tells her that he’s proud of her and kisses her on the top of her head.

“We all are,” Carrick agrees, and then turns to look at his son. “When are you moving into your new building, Christian?”

“We’re just waiting on the final inspection from the city now,” Elliot answers for him. “Once we get the approval from them, he should be ready to move in anytime and I can move on to the Microsoft campus expansion.”

“And my house,” Christian interjects. “Now that Calliope is born, I want to get her and Ana out of Escala as soon as possible.”

“And we can start planning the wedding!” Mia chimes in.

“Oh, speaking of the wedding,” Carrick turns around and picks up the leather bag he left in the chair under the window and pulls out a folder filled with official looking documents.

“The hospital staff brought Calliope’s birth certificate by this morning. You can make Christian official.”

“If I must,” I say, giving him a coy smile. He raises an eyebrow at me as I take the document and the pen that Carrick hands me and begin filling in the information.

“Detroit,” Christian says when I get to father’s place of birth, and I give him a hard, sardonic look.

“I know where you were born, Christian.”

“I just want to make sure it’s accurate,” he says defensively. I shake my head, scrawl my name across the signature line for Mother, and then slide the document over to him. Once he’s added his own perfect signature under father, there’s a noticeable change in his expression. Something between relief and pride.

“And that’s it,” Carrick says. “Calliope is officially on the record.” I smile as I hand him the birth certificate, but rather than place everything back in his bag, he hands me another document. “This is for you. It’s a medical power of attorney that I’d had drawn up after we found out what Carla had done. This will appoint Christian as your designated agent and he’ll be able to make healthcare decisions for you if for any reason you’re unable to do so for yourself. It’ll hold you over until you get married.”

“Oh.” I take the document and pick up the pen again, but as I sign the line at the bottom of the page, Christian looks away. I’m glad that Carrick had the foresight to have this done for us, but thinking about being in another situation like this so soon seems to put a damper on the great mood that fills the room. Thankfully, just as I hand the signed document back to him, there’s a knock on the door and a nurse pushes a small cart in with a box resting on top that holds my baby.

“Someone’s hungry,” she chirps as she pushes Calliope to my bedside. When she stops she looks at Christian and smiles. “Daddy, do you want to hold her?”

He nods, though his gaze is focused entirely on our baby. He seems almost dazed as he steps forward and reaches into box to lift the tiny pink swaddle of blankets into his arms. The moment she’s pressed into his chest, the small fussy noises she’s making stop and Christian’s face breaks into a breathtaking smile. He gives her the same look that up until now had been reserved solely for me, a look of pure love and adoration, and as I watch him hold and comfort our daughter for the first time, my heart feels as though it swells to the point of bursting.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Grace cries, stepping up to the other side of my bed with her phone out. “Look here, Christian.”

“Mom…” he objects, but before Grace can push her point, Carrick drapes an arm over her shoulder and pulls her back.

“What do you say we let Ana and Christian spend some time with the baby alone, huh? It’s almost lunch time, we can go out, get some real food, and come back to enjoy Calliope after they’ve had their fill of her.”

“Come back in thirty years,” Christian says. His father laughs and then nudges Grace around the bed so they can say their goodbyes. I cycle through hugs with the entire family, as does Christian, and after Mia has kissed Calliope’s head for the 8th time, Elliot is finally able to usher everyone, including the nurse, through the doors and Christian and I are alone.

“What do you say, little girl?” Christian coos to our daughter. “Are you ready to meet your mom?”

The baby doesn’t make a sound, but he leans over my bed anyway and gently places Calliope into my folded arms. Again, I’m floored by how tiny she is. Holding her is almost the same as holding nothing at all, but I can feel her. I can feel what little weight there is to her, I can feel her warmth, and I can feel the tiny movements she makes as she fidgets in her sleep. It finally feels real, like she’s actually mine and I’m going to get to keep her, and as I stare down at her beautiful, peaceful face, I once again feel as though I could cry.

“Have you ever loved anything so much?” I ask through the impending tears. Christian reaches out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder.

“Yes, I have.”

I glance up at him and feel my body melt when I see the loving way he’s staring at Calliope and I. He leans down and softly presses his lips into mine and when he pulls away from the kiss, I can’t hold back my ridiculous smile.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too. More now that I think I ever have before. This is perfect, Christian. Everything is finally perfect.”

 

To my chagrin, Calliope doesn’t take to breastfeeding. We try on and off for hours but she’s never able to latch, even after I have a lactation specialist come guide us through the entire process. Dr. Baker tells me it’s most likely because she doesn’t yet have the strength to latch to my breast and while I fear after the fourth failed attempt that they’re going to take her from me and reattach her to the feeding tubes in the NICU, a nurse comes in with a special bottle made for premature babies, lays my daughter in Christian’s arms, and, miraculously, she begins to eat.

“Of course she does it for you,” I complain as I stare longingly at him bonding so personally with our baby.

“Here, you can take her,” he says. He shifts towards me but never takes his eyes off Calliope and when I hear the reverence in his voice, I know that I’m not going to be able to separate them.

“No, keep her,” I concede. “Just… tilt her towards me and hold her still so I can see her.” He does, and we both watch her as if she’s the most engaging thing in the world until her bottle is finished and she falls back asleep.

Now that she’s eating on her own and she’s done well for the few hours we’ve had her in my room, the doctors decide it’s time to see how she does overnight outside of the NICU as a trial run so we can discuss taking her home from the hospital. For the next 24 hours she’s under intense observation at my bedside while I’m nearly permanently attached to a breast pump so we can build up a supply to bottle feed her. It’s terrifying having her only feet away from me, with no nurse or doctor hovering over her 24 hours a day, but it’s also wonderful. For the first time, it feels like Christian and I are parents. We’re allowed to feed her, to change her, and to hold her whenever we want to, and when I give her a bottle for the very first time and she opens her tiny gray eyes and stares up at me, the hope I’ve held onto since I awoke in the hospital vanishes and is replaced with absolute certainty. I see the strength and determination in her eyes that I feel in my own heart. She’s healthy, strong, and she’s not going anywhere. Once I’m sure of that, the remainder of our stay here feels very unintimidating.

We spend a total of ten days in the hospital and as the final days tick past us, more and more of our family leaves to head back to Seattle. Grace, Carrick, and Mia fly out on Friday to make it back for Mia’s ballet auditions on Saturday, and Kate and Elliot leave Sunday morning to get back for work. When we’re preparing to be discharged on Monday, only my father is the only one who remains behind with us.

“What’s left at the house?” I ask, as Christian wheels me out to the parking lot where Taylor is waiting with a rental car, since my Lexus has been returned to the dealer.

“Not much,” he replies. “The movers took what Kate is keeping last weekend and Taylor had the rest of the security team load everything you wanted on my plane this morning.”

“So there’s no reason to go back?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

I press my lips together and my mind begins debating what I want before we leave Cambridge for the final time. It feels wrong to just get on a plane without taking a moment to reflect upon the place where so much has changed for me, but as I imagine taking one last walk through the empty halls that will no longer hold any feeling of home, I’m not sure I’ll get the closure I intended to. That’s something that Kate and I should have done together, pausing to reminisce and laugh at every bump or nick in walls. And I can’t stop imagining the blood stained carpet or the memories the very idea of it conjures. No, I don’t think it’s a good idea to return, but I already feel the poignant sense of longing for the house that feels as though it built me.

“Ana?” Christian asks.

“No, we don’t need to go back. I don’t think I’ll get any closure there anyway”

“Well, what if you don’t need closure at all?”

“What do you mean?”

“This place is important to you, baby. It’s not like you’re never going to come back here again. What if we didn’t sell the house? You could keep it so that you could come visit anytime you wanted. Come back to stay a few days with Kate sometime, or bring Calliope to the Harvard vs Yale game every year. Maybe she can live there when she comes here herself.”

I glance up at him and the picture his words give me instantly changes my dismay into something beautiful and sanguine. The feeling of loss is replaced with visions of my daughter running through the back yard in a Crimson sweatshirt, laughing while Christian and I chase her. I think about escaping to the quiet solitude of the empty house for a weekend to put the finishing touches on my next novel, evoking the same inspiration from the four walls of my bedroom that got me through my first book.

“Yeah,” I tell him, smiling. “You’re right. I’m not finished with this place, we should keep it. Thank you, Christian.”

“No,” he says as we come to a stop at the curb and he reaches down to take Calliope out of my arms and kisses her softly on the forehead. “Thank you.”

I spend most of the drive to the airport splitting my attention between staring out the side windows at Cambridge disappearing behind us and worrying over every small bump the car makes and how it could possibly be endangering Calliope. It doesn’t bode well for the flight, but at least once we’re in the air, I can hold her in my arms, which feels safer and more comforting than having her buckled in the carseat in the seat next to me.

“She’s beautiful, Mr. Grey,” Natalia says once we’re at cruising altitude and she can come check on us. “Is there anything I can get for either you or Miss Steele?”

“We’re fine,” Christian says, but he turns to my dad who is sitting across the aisle and a few seats back from us. “Ray?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “But… I would like it if you’d join me back here for a moment to have a chat, son.”

Christian takes a deep breath, exhaling in one long breath, and his body slumps a little, but he nods and turns to me. “I’ll be right back.”

“We’ll be here,” I reply. “Good luck.”

They move to the seats at the very back of the plane, which means I can’t hear what they’re saying, and it has me nervous. Especially because I can’t see my father and every time I glance over my shoulder at Christian, all I see is pain or disgust reflected on his face. I expect them to be gone for… 30 minutes or an hour tops, but when the pilot flips on the fasten seatbelt light and tells us to prepare for landing at SeaTac, Christian still hasn’t returned. In fact, when we begin our descent, it’s my dad that slips into the seat next to me, not Christian, who is occupied with the security team at the back of the plane.

“Well?” I ask. He frowns.

“Your mom left a lot out. A Lot out. That’s… that’s some rough stuff.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “But we got through it and it’s done now. We’ve put it behind us and we’re very happy together.”

“Which is incredible. I’m so proud of you, Ana. The strength it must have taken for you to get through all of that, to stand by him…”

“He’s worth it,” I assure him.

“You know, I think you’re right. I don’t think any father ever thinks there’s a man out there who’s good enough or who deserves his daughter, but this one, this one I like.”

“Told you.”

He smiles at me and then looks down at the sleeping baby in my arms. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course you can.” Moving as little as possible, I slide her into his arms, and once he’s able to pull her against him, his face melts with the same look of pure devotion she seems to elicit from everyone she touches.

“She’s such a pretty baby,” he whispers. “I thought you were the most beautiful little girl I’d ever seen when I first met you, but she may have you beat, kid.”

“She definitely does,” I agree.

“You know, if she has even an ounce of your spirit, you’re in for a whole world of trouble.” The plane bounces as we touch down and before I answer my father, I glance quickly out at the glow of the city lights over the horizon coming from Seattle, waiting for the sense of foreboding that plagued me before I escaped this city what feels like a lifetime ago, but it doesn’t come.

“You ready for it?” my dad asks.

“I really am,” I tell him. “I can’t wait.”

 

I feel extremely tired as we step into the elevator at Escala and begin the journey up to the apartment. Not in the way I did when I was pregnant or in the hospital, but in the way you do after you’ve spent too much time on vacation. Like we’ve had too much of a good thing and now it’s time to relax, decompress, and get back to real life. Kate texted me to let me know she’d brought a crib over to the apartment, since we were expecting to be in the new house by the time Calliope arrived and never put in a nursery at Escala, so all I can think about in the elevator is putting her to bed, saying goodnight to my father, pouring my first glass of wine, and drawing a long relaxing bath to share with Christian. A smile crosses my face as I imagine it, but the dream comes to a crashing halt when the doors open and we hear Kate and Elliot’s voices coming from the kitchen.

“Oh my god, don’t you dare!” Kate squeals.

“I can’t stop it, it’s acting of its own accord. There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry, Kate.”

“Elliot…” We hear her scream and then the sound of shattering glass, but as Christian moves Calliope’s carseat behind his back while taking a protective step towards me, and our security team rushes for the kitchen, we hear her laugh.

“Shit, we broke a wine glass,” Kate says. “And it’s Baccarat.”

“Way to go, Kate.”

Christian gives me a side glance over his shoulder, rolls his eyes, and then moves further into the apartment again. Before I follow him though, my dad kisses me goodnight and heads for the stairs that lead up to the guest room, leaving us to survey the damage on our own. Luke and Kommer step aside to let us pass as we walk through the living room and once we can fully see into the kitchen, we find Elliot still holding the sidespray from the sink and Kate gathering the broken pieces of the deep bordeaux glass they’d knocked off the rack. She glances up as she picks up the final shattered piece from the floor, sees us standing on the opposite end of the counter, and her face immediately shifts to a look a chagrin.

“Christian! Ana! You’re home…”

“Oh… hey, bro. Welcome back,” Elliot adds guiltily. Christian glances between them, shakes his head and places Calliope’s car seat on an oversized barstool pressed up against the counter.

“What are you two doing in here?”

“Well, we thought you might be hungry so we came to make you dinner,” Kate says.

Christian narrows his eyes. “I have a housekeeper.”

“We just wanted to make sure you had everything you needed. I wasn’t sure where you wanted to put Callie for the next few weeks so we set up a crib in one of the guest rooms upstairs and a bassinet in your bedroom. I also brought Ana a motherhood survival kit I put together filled with all of the things the internet told me she can’t live without.” She quickly moves from the kitchen to the dining room and pulls a giant basket off the table that seems to be filled with lotions, supplies, and a ton of assorted goods from The Honest Company.

“Awh, Kate,” I say, my bottom lip jutting out as I quickly glance through everything she’s put together for me. “You’re best godmother in the entire world.”

“I know. Mia and I also went to Barnes and Noble last night and bought every children’s book we could find. They’re up in the room with the crib but I should warn you, there’s like 200 of them. I fully intend for you to raise my goddaughter to be a scholar.”

“You’re unbelievable and so incredibly generous,” I say, smiling at her and moving around the counter. “Thank you so much, Kate.” She accepts the hug I give her but only for a moment as she quickly pushes me away and demands to hold the baby. I laugh, take her hand and lead her to the car seat.

“Yes, Kate is very generous,” Christian says, glancing over the basket and then shooting a pointed look at Elliot. “She’s doing an excellent job upholding her title as godmother.” Elliot gasps and places a hand over his chest, like he’s deeply offended.

“You didn’t really think I would forget you, did you Christian?”

“Yes,” he replies flatly. “Yes I did.”

“That hurts, bro. And after all the time I took meticulously wrapping this present for you…”

He too walks over to the table, but instead of picking up a basket, he pulls a square package from one of the dining room chairs, wrapped messily in birthday themed paper, and places it on the counter in front of his brother. Christian smiles, claps Elliot on the shoulder, and begins to tear away the paper. Once he’s got the package opened, he reaches inside, frowns, and then pulls out a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues.

“It’s going to be a long six weeks for you,” Elliot says solemnly. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Christian rolls his eyes and throws the items back in the box. “You’re such a fuck, Elliot,” he laughs.

“Oh, yeah?” he replies in good humor. “Who do you think put your crib together upstairs, you douchebag?”

“You mean it wasn’t Kate? Great, now I have to go up there and make sure it’s not going to fall apart and kill my baby in the middle of the night.”

Elliot laughs. “You could do that. Or we could go into the library, have a drink to celebrate your daughter, and let these girls catch up a little bit.”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees with a smile. “I think that’s exactly what we should do.”

He comes back to me, kissing me softly on the cheek before going to Calliope as she sleeps peacefully in Kate’s arms. Then both he and Elliot disappear down the long hallway towards the library.

“Ana, I’m obsessed with this baby,” Kate says. “She’s so freaking pretty. You’re like… champion babymaker.”

“Mmm,” I hum in agreement. “I can’t describe it to you, Kate. I love her so much it hurts.”

“And she smells so good. Ugh, I want one.”

I bite down on my lip as she leans down, inhales Calliope’s scent from the top of her head and then places a gentle kiss on each of her round cheeks.

“Speaking of which…” I begin awkwardly. “You seem to be spending a lot of time with Elliot, here… back at the hospital… I’m sorry but, where’s Carter?”

The adoring smile on her face falls, her body deflates a little, and she continues to look at Calliope, not me, as she answers.

“I’m not really sure. He’s… probably back in Georgia, I guess. He didn’t really want to talk to me after.”

“What happened?”

She sighs. “He asked me to marry him, Ana.”

“I know. Clearly, it was the biggest shock of my life.” She lets out a morbid kind of laugh but doesn’t continue, so I push her a little. “So… you said no?”

“I didn’t love him,” she says. “I thought maybe I could, one day, but… I don’t think it works that way anymore. At least not the kind of love I want.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes another breath before she answers me. “This is going to sound horrible but, when we were in the hospital, before Christian knew about Calliope or if you were going to be okay, I spent a lot of time just… watching him. He was devastated. I’m glad you didn’t see him like that, Ana, because it was bad. Really bad. But it was bad because he loves you so much. If you would have died, his whole world would have been destroyed. You consume him, and as terrifying as that makes the idea of losing you to him, it makes what you two have together…” She pauses as she tries to find the words.

“Beautiful?” I suggest. She presses her lips together and shakes her head.

“It’s more than that. It’s what makes life have meaning. I want that. I want someone whose world begins and ends with me. I want someone who would sacrifice anything, who would walk through fire if that’s what it took to make me happy. But also, I want someone who I love so completely, so passionately, that I can’t envision a world where they don’t exist. I want deep, meaningful, true love, Ana, and I was never going to have that with Carter.”

“Okay, that’s fair. If you didn’t love Carter, you shouldn’t have married him. But… what about Elliot? How does he fit into this?”  

She bites her lip. “I’m in love with Elliot, and I love him the way that I want to love the man I’m going to marry. I can’t deny that anymore, and the longer we’re apart the more I have to admit to myself that that love is unshakable. I love his family, I love his sense of adventure, I love the person that he is… I could happily spend the rest of my life with Elliot Grey, but… I don’t know that he loves me the way I need to be loved. If anything is ever going to happen between us again, I need to know that he does, and that he will. Forever.”

“Well, I hope it works out. Selfishly because he’s going to be in my life from now until the end and I can’t go through anymore Gia’s… More selfishly because I love you, Kate, very, very, much, and I want you to have everything in the world that your heart desires.”

“I love you too, Ana,” she smiles. “And I love this baby. Oh my god, I love this baby!” I laugh as she tightens her hold on Calliope and leaves feather light kisses all over her face. Calliope stirs for a moment, but just enough to squish her little face together in protest before her features smooth out and she’s lost to her dreams again. When Kate looks up at me, the pouting look of adorable overload on her face makes me wonder if she’s about to burst into tears, and once again I feel my heart swell.

A timer goes off behind me in the kitchen, so Kate kisses Calliope once more before placing her back in her carrier and coming around the counter with me to pull the lasagna she’s made out of the oven. I move to the cabinet to take out plates for the four of us and to set the table, but before I reach for the door, my eyes fall on a box resting on the counter across from me.

“What’s that?” I ask. Kate looks over her shoulder at the box and then turns back to the bread she’s pulling from the oven.

“Just mail. Whatever wasn’t forwarded to Cambridge, I guess.”

“Oh…” Curiosity gets the better of me so I cross the marble floor to begin sorting through the letters and packages inside. There’s nothing here for me, everything I touch has Christian’s name on it, minus a few letters from my mother which I fully intend to ignore, until my fingers close around a battered looking manilla envelope addressed to me, but with no return address.

“Who’s that from?” Kate asks, glancing over at me as she slices the bread.

“I don’t know, it doesn’t say.” My fingers probe the package, which is surprisingly heavy for something delivered in just an envelope, but as I feel around the edges, I’m able to identify the familiar shape and weight inside.

“It’s a manuscript,” I say.

“Did Random House do any editing?” Kate asks.

“I don’t know. I didn’t think so…” I quickly rip open the flap, reach inside, and pull out the rudimentary bound stack of papers. When I look down at the title page though, it’s not Escape or even Escaping Neverland that I see printed there. What I do see, sends a cold chill over my entire body, like my blood has suddenly turned to ice.

“What is it?” Kate asks. I turn the manuscript to her so she can read the title.

 

Monster.

How a Broken Southern Girl Built America’s Most Powerful CEO

By: Elena Lincoln

Next Chapter

 

Consciousness comes and goes like the beat of a heart. I know there are people around me, I can hear their panicked voices, but they sound far away, like I’m hearing them from underwater. I try to cling to the sound, searching specifically for Christian’s voice, but it’s so far away. I’m slipping and I’m afraid that I’ve gone too far until someone moves my body and my resulting scream of pain brings me back from the edge.

“Stay with me, Ana,” Grace says. I open my eyes and find that I’m lying on the living room floor. Grace opens my legs and then reaches under my dress to remove my panties, discarding the blood sodden fabric next to her, as she examines me.

“Here, Mom,” Mia says, flying down the stairs with Grace’s medical bag in hand. Grace nods to her and removes a pair of gloves. She reaches between my legs, making me whimper with pain again, but she only just touches me before she withdraws her hand and shakes her head.

“It’s got to be a placental abruption, a bad one. This baby needs to be delivered right now, and we need to get Ana into surgery or we’re going to lose them both.”

“L-lose?” Christian repeats, sounding dazed, but Grace ignores him.

“Elliot where are we on that ambulance?”

“They said they’ll be here in five minutes.”

She shakes her head again. “Not good enough, she’s losing too much blood… she needs blood.”

“Here,” Christian thrusts his arms towards her. “Take it. Take all of it.”

“What’s her blood type?” Grace asks, looking to my mother, but she just looks down at me, pale and shocked.

“B negative,” my dad says, stepping forward. “Same as me.”

“Congratulations, then. You just bought yourself a ticket on the ambulance ride. Pull your sleeves up.”

Christian shuffles to the side while my dad kneels down in the blood soaked carpet next to me and allows Grace to begin prepping his arm for a blood transfusion line. My whole body begins to shake as a wave of cold washes over me, and while my teeth start to chatter, Christian takes my hand.

“Hold on, baby,” he says, his voice shaking. “We’re going to get you to the hospital. You’re going to be okay.”

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Stay with me, baby.”

I shiver again as I feel the needle Grace is holding pierce my skin, and then shake off the impending darkness that’s trying to take me once more.

“C-C-Christian…” I stutter, knowing I don’t have long before I lose the battle and slip under again. “S-ave Callio-pe. I chose Calliope.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to be fine, Ana. You’re both going to be fine. Just stay with me… we’re going to have a baby today.”

“Calliope, Christian.”

“Stop it. You are going to be fine, Anastasia.”

But I don’t know if that’s true or not, because as I lie there watching his eyes well with tears, the blackness overcomes my eyes and I’m lost again.

 

There’s no sense of time passing in the lack of consciousness. Sometimes I can see what I think is light, but I can’t hear anything and I can’t feel anything. There’s nothing and it’s terrifying. My baby is being taken from my body but I can’t feel her, so I don’t know when or if it’s happened. Grace said I was supposed to go to surgery, but I don’t feel any pain or movement. The black is all there is and all I can do is wait, helpless, with no idea when or if it will ever end. For awhile, I’m convinced it won’t, so I almost give up fighting it. But then I remember Calliope, and I think I can almost hear Christian, so I begin to push against the heavy abyss threatening to pull me down once again.

Fighting is exhausting. Again and again, my strength seems to fail and the darkness gets deeper, but then sometimes I feel like the dim light I’ve tried to hold onto is growing stronger, like I’ve almost reached the surface, but I can’t ever be sure. For a brief period, I almost think I feel something touch me, though I can’t decipher who it is or what part of my body is being touched. Then taste comes back, but it’s bitter and it stings the way alcohol does. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, I start to hear voices again, muted at first, but growing more concrete the more I concentrate on them until I can not only decipher the words, but also who’s speaking them.

“But what if she doesn’t, Elliot?” Kate sobs. “What if she never wakes up? What if she’s already gone?”

“She’s not. Okay, you listen to me, she’s going to be just fine. She’s too damn stubborn to go like this and Christian wouldn’t let her if she tried.”

“But the doctors said…”

“The doctors are idiots. Kate, Ana is going to wake up and she is going to be fine. Look at me… she’s going to be okay.”

Kate?

Slowly, I start to feel my body again. Not in the true sense of the word, but at least that it’s there. Everything feels numb, but I have legs again, and hands. I feel as though I’m being pulled back to earth and while I listen to Kate sobbing somewhere in the darkness next to me, I will myself to speak, but I can’t.

I try again, but nothing. Something is choking me. I try to take a breath but it’s cut off, like there’s something lodged in my throat. Panic begins to set in and, finally, my eyes spring open, bringing white, blinding light back into my world. I glance down and see that there’s something plastic covering my mouth, keeping me from breathing, and instinctively, I reach up to bat it out of the way. I’m weak, extremely weak, so my hand only just barely brushes against the thing obstructing my breathing, but the sound is enough to catch Elliot’s attention.

“K-Kate…” He says uncertainly.

“Oh my god!” I hear the scrape of her chair over the linoleum as she rushes to my side and begins fumbling with the plastic box in the bed next to me. “Ana? Ana, can you hear me?”

I reach for the thing that’s choking off my air and find that it’s connected to a tube. My fingers wrap limply around it and I try to pull, but the movement is so anemic it hardly moves.

“No, no, no!” a woman in light blue scrubs cries as she rushes into the room. “Leave it, dear.”

Leave it? I can’t breathe!

I try and take another breath, but end up coughing. Thankfully, the nurse or doctor or whoever she is begins to deconstruct the tubing in my mouth.

“Elliot, Christian is with Calliope,” Kate says quickly.  “Go get him right now.”

“Christian, right…” Elliot says, almost distracted. “What about Carla?”

Kate glares at him. “No, fuck Carla. When Ana finds out what she… We’ll call Ray once we know, but right now, go get Christian.” He nods and darts from the room just as several more medical staff come through the door.

“Anastasia, my name is Dr. Lapp,” the woman in light blue scrubs tells me. “The blockage you feel in your throat right now is intubation. I will remove it, but I need you to relax, okay? Can you do that for me?”

I close my eyes and will my body to stop fighting, but it’s difficult because it feels as though she is yanking my throat out of my body as she removes the tube. I cough and take deep gasping breaths, but each one of them burns. As air floods into my lungs, it actually makes me feel lightheaded, not stronger, and for a moment, I fear the blackness is going to return, but I refuse to let it. Now that I’m back in the light, I can’t allow myself to go under again. I need to know what happened. I need to know where my daughter is and that she’s okay. I brace myself while the doctors surround my bed and as I try to gain control over my breathing, Christian bursts into the room.

“Ana!”

I glance over at him and am shocked. He looks haggard. Worse than I’ve ever seen him. His hair is in disarray, there’s inexplicably several days worth of facial hair on his chin, and his eyes are marred by deep black circles. As he walks towards me, peeling away the light pink medical gown from his body, I see that he’s wearing the same clothes he was on graduation day. His shirt is still spotted with my blood. Still, as he glances over me, his face morphs into a melting pot of emotion so intense, I wonder for a moment if he’s about to have a breakdown. “Oh, thank god.” he breathes. “You’re awake. Thank god, thank god, thank god…”

I try to speak again when his hand clasps mine, but I can’t. My throat is too raw. All I can do is let out a hoarse, painful breath that means nothing. He looks up at the doctor with wide, panicked eyes.

“Is she…”

Dr. Lapp shakes her head. “We’re not sure yet, Mr. Grey. We’ve only just taken out her intubation. She hasn’t spoken yet.” She turns to me. “Anastasia, do you know who this is?”

I look between the doctor and Christian, confused by the question. Why wouldn’t I know who Christian was? I try again to speak, but am only able to make the same, incomprehensible wheezing sound, so I settle for nodding my head, and Christian’s entire body sags with relief.

“What about her?” She points to Kate and I nod again, so she moves onto Elliot. “Him?” Another nod. “Good, Ana. That’s very good. Do you know where you are?”

I take a breath again, forcing my voice this time, but the words comes out so hoarse it sounds like the strangled death cry of a zombie from some horror movie. “Calliope?”

“What was that, Anastasia?” Dr. Lapp asks.

“Calliope.” I try again, and this time, my voice is a little stronger, clearer, but the doctor still doesn’t seem to understand me.

“I-I…”

“She’s asking about our daughter” Christian explains, but I’m confused by the inflection in his voice. It’s like he’s overjoyed and in incredible pain all at once. Oh no… where is my baby?

“Oh, I don’t have…” Dr Lapp begins, but Christian cuts her off again, kneeling down by my bedside as he speaks.

“She’s here,” he reassures me. “She was born on May 7th at 4:53 in the afternoon. She’s 17 ½ inches long and weighs 4 lbs, 7 ounces, no… 9 ounces now. You made a perfect baby, Ana. She looks just like you and she’s absolutely wonderful.”

Relief washes over me.

“I-I want her,” I croak. “Bring her to me.”

He frowns, but Dr. Lapp intercedes before he can answer me.

“Ana, your surgery was successful, but not without complications. The blood loss you experienced before and after surgery was significant. We need to run some tests to check your organs and your neurological function…”

“I want my baby,” I say, trying to be firm even though my voice comes out in only a very painful whisper. “I want to see my daughter.”

“I can’t bring her to you, Ana,” Christian says. “She’s in an incubator. She’s okay, but she’s premature and she had a traumatic delivery. She can’t breathe on her own yet and she can’t eat on her own… she can’t leave the NICU.”

“W-what?”

“Don’t worry, baby. She’s doing well,” he adds quickly. “She’s getting bigger and stronger everyday.”

“Everyday? Wait… how long was I out? What day is it?”

“It’s Tuesday, the 10th.”

“The 10th?” My eyes begin darting back and forth as I count the days between today and Saturday. “Three days? My daughter has been born for three days and I haven’t… I haven’t…” My breathing sharpens as I feel the threat of impending tears and it aggravates the pain in my throat again. Calliope is somewhere in this hospital fighting for her life without my help, my love, my support… and she has been for days. She needs me.

Though I still feel incredibly weak, I reach down for the tubes connected to the inside of my elbow and begin scraping at the tape holding them in, trying to yank them out of my arm.

“Ana, stop,” Christian says, but I ignore him.

“I’m going to her. You’re going to take me to her right now.” My head starts to swim and my vision grows dimmer, but I’m determined. I’m going to go to my daughter’s bedside.

“Anastasia…” Dr. Lapp says. “You’ve had major surgery, you’ve only just regained consciousness. You still have a catheter in… I can’t let you get out of this bed.”

“Then you’re going to have to sedate me.” I wince with pain as I try and sit up and realize that it’s not just my throat, my entire body aches. It doesn’t stop me though, I won’t let anything stop me, but before I can even pull the thin hospital blanket from my lap, there are three different sets of hands on me, holding me down, and I’m not strong enough to fight them off.

“Miss Steele, you need to sit back.”

“No! No, I have to see her.”

“You will, as soon as we…”

“No, let me go. Please!” I struggle to pull my arm out of an orderly’s hands and my breath hisses between my teeth as the IV rips out of my skin. Dr. Lapp says something to the nurse next to her about bringing her arm restraints, so Christian takes my hand from the orderly on my right and forces me to look at him.

“Ana, Calliope is getting the best care that she can get right now. She is in good hands and she’s doing better every single day. Every hour. Soon, she’s going to be strong enough to go home and when she is, she’s going to need her mother. You can’t fix her right now. The best thing you can do for Calliope is to take care of yourself, do what the doctors tell you, and get better. Please, baby. Lay still.”

I stare into his pleading eyes and then break down into tears. “Christian, she’s been in this world for three days and I’ve never seen her. I have to see her.”

“I have pictures,” he says, reaching for his phone.

“Me too,” Kate interjects behind him, and both she and Elliot step forward with their phones out.

“This is going to have to wait,” Dr. Lapp argues. “It’s imperative that we begin tests to evaluate her condition as soon as…”

“Please,” Christian says. “One minute. Just let her see that her child is safe and alive and then you can run all the tests you need.”

Dr. Lapp hesitates, but nods and waves toward the door for the staff around me to leave the room. She quickly re-inserts my IV before she follows the others out, and once she gone I hastily pull Christian’s phone from his hands.

There aren’t the hundreds of pictures here that I want, in fact there aren’t even ten, but as I pull up the first one, I immediately start crying again.

“She’s so beautiful,” Christian says, settling down on the bed next to me. “My mother thinks she has my eyes because they’re gray now, but I’m hoping they’ll turn blue like yours. She does have your mouth though, and your dark hair. She’s perfect.”

“She’s so tiny,” I say through my tears as I flip through the photos. Her color is wrong. There’s too much purple in her pigment. She has tubes and wires covering her, coming out of her, and just the sight of them makes my heart physically ache. She looks so fragile and every instinct in my body is telling me to go to her, to protect her, to make her better… Seeing her that way, knowing I can’t go to her, that Christian will stop me if I try, is unbearable. I have to give his phone back to him. Looking at her on the screen of a phone is just torture right now.

“How long until I can see her?” I ask. “An hour? Two? When?”

“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know…”

“Well then get the doctor back in here. The sooner I do their stupid tests, the sooner I can get to Calliope.”

He nods and gets off the bed, pushing past Kate, Elliot, and Luke, who I hadn’t noticed standing in the corner before, to bring Dr. Lapp back into the room. As she returns with her staff and a whole new slew of medical equipment, I have to say goodbye to my family. Kate leans over and hugs me so gingerly, it’s like she’s afraid I might break. Elliot doesn’t even try, instead he leans over to kiss me on the top of my hair and tells me never to scare them like that again. I give him a weak smile and then reach out for Christian.

“Mr. Grey,” Dr. Lapp pushes him, glancing towards the door, and he nods.

“I’m going to be close. I’ll be back the second they let me, I promise.”

“Stay with Calliope,” I tell him. “Don’t ever leave her alone.”

“Never,” he agrees. “My parents have been with her ever since they were let back into the NICU and I’ve only left her when I’ve been with you. We’re taking care of her, I promise. Just get better, okay. She’s ready to meet you.” Tears prick my eyes again and Dr. Lapp lets out an irritated sigh.

“Mr. Grey.”

“I’m going,” he says, standing from my bedside, but not releasing my hand. “I love you, Anastasia. So very much.”

“I love you too,” I reply. “Go be with our daughter.” He nods and slowly exits the room, Luke hovering close behind him, and the moment the door closes I break down. Tears flow freely down my cheeks as the doctors begin prodding me, hooking me up to different machines, and piercing my skin for blood samples. They wheel my entire bed into a different room to give me an MRI, and when they truly move me for the first time, I feel the residual pain from my surgery like fire inside of my body. Once I’m in the claustrophobic tube I lie there, completely impotent, my body battered and riddled with pain, thinking only of making it through this torture so that I can get where I’m truly needed.

Calliope. At the end of this, they’ll take me to Calliope.

Unfortunately, the test results take hours to come back, and when they do, they’re not good. Dr. Baker is back on shift, so she comes to give me the devastating news about my weak heart and low blood cell count that means my blood isn’t clotting well. I’m at high risk for sudden cardiac arrest, sepsis, and even just bleeding out, and until they have my blood condition under control, I can’t leave this room. Dr. Baker tries to reassure me by telling me what a miracle it is that my neurological function and memories seem to be fully intact, but it’s difficult to find solace in simply maintaining something I didn’t realize I was in danger of losing when I know my daughter is in critical condition somewhere on one of the many floors of this hospital and I can’t get to her.

“So, where do we go from here?” Christian asks Dr. Baker, gripping tightly to my hand from the chair next to my bed.

“Unfortunately, we’re not exactly sure what is depleting her cell count. This kind of treatment is beyond my scope of knowledge,” Dr. Baker says. “I’ve requested a consult from a hematologist but it’s a very rare specialty and this hospital only has credentials for one doctor, who is currently in upstate New York at a conference. He won’t be here for a few days.”

“A few days?” Christian repeats incredulously, and Dr. Baker nods.

“I’ve sent him all of Ana’s charts so he can review them before he actually sees her but it will take him a few days to get back to Cambridge. In the meantime, we’ll be monitoring Ana’s condition around the clock and giving her the absolute best care possible.”

“But until she sees this specialist, she won’t be able to visit the NICU?”

“That is correct, Mr. Grey.”

My head falls back into my pillows as I fight the torrent of emotion this delay creates within me. The sound of my sobs seems to overpower Christian arguing with Dr. Baker about finding another doctor, about flying one here from anywhere in the US, from Europe if need be, but apparently there are all kinds of administrative roadblocks to prevent that from happening. I’d have to be transported to a new facility and right now, that’s impossible. There’s nothing we can do but wait, and every second that passes feels as though it’s going to kill me. Christian’s face is marred with agony as he holds me the best he can through the tubes and wires still connected to my arms and fingers while I cry long into the night, until eventually, I cry myself to sleep.

 

The next morning, I wake up and am surprised to find Christian isn’t at my side. Instead, it’s my father sitting in the chair closest to me and Luke in the chair resting under the window. Their eyes are both locked on the TV over my bed playing a baseball game but my father’s hand is wrapped around mine at my side.

“Dad?” I ask groggily, and he jumps in surprise when he hears my voice.

“Annie? Oh my god, you… you really know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. Where’s… where’s Christian?”

“He had to go down to the NICU, so I told him I’d sit with you. They’re taking Callie off the ventilator.”

“What? They are? Does that mean she can come down here?”

“No, not yet. She’s gotta gain a little bit more weight before they take her out of the incubator, and I don’t know if they’re gonna bring a newborn baby into the ICU, sweetie. Especially a preemie.”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I wail, the desperate tone returning to my voice as I start to cry again. “I need to see my daughter. Please, Daddy, do something. Help me. I’ve missed her whole life so far, I can’t stay here anymore.”

“I know, baby. I know.” His voice begins to break too. “But I promise you, she’s doing just fine. The doctors are all very impressed by her and that man of yours is doing everything he can to get you to that baby as soon as humanly possible.” He pauses. “He… he really loves you.”

“I know,” I reply, but he shakes his head.

“I didn’t. I mean, I knew you said it, and it’s not that I didn’t believe you, it’s that… I didn’t see the way he loves you.” His expression shifts into something much more painful, so I squeeze his hand to get him to look at me again.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” He looks up and there are real tears in his eyes now.

“I’m so sorry, Ana.”

“For what?”

“I was with you the whole time,” he begins. “I was giving you blood so I rode here in the ambulance and went directly into the OR with you. There was so much blood, and I’ve seen blood, believe me, but this… I didn’t know how you were going to make it through this. When they got you onto the surgery table, the doctors pushed me out of the way and told me I’d have to go to the waiting room with the rest of the family, but everyone was so distracted trying to save you, that I was able to sit right outside the operating room and no one even noticed.”

“I kept waiting for the sound of the baby crying. It felt like it was taking forever and I thought, ‘how long could it possibly take to open you up and deliver the baby?’. But I never heard her. Someone came through the doors not long after I’d left you, pushing a plastic bin filled with blankets as quickly away from the OR as they could, but they didn’t look at me. They didn’t say anything, so I waited. For a very long time.”

“Finally, someone came out and saw me sitting there. He was covered in blood, in your blood, and he looked like he’d just seen death. I swear my heart stopped. I was sitting there, preparing myself to hear that you’d died on the table, but that’s not what he told me. He said that you’d experienced very serious complications during surgery and that he’d like to speak to your mother and I about the repercussions of those complications. I went straight to the room they were going to put you up in to wait and a few minutes later they brought in Carla. When the doctor finally came in, he told us that the amount of blood from your abruption meant that it took them too long to find the tear inside of you to repair, and when they did, and they started to sew you up, your heart stopped. Again and again. Between reviving you and making the repair, you’d lost too much blood. Your heart was weak, your blood pressure was incredibly low, and with the amount of blood loss you’d experienced… the damage was already too great. He didn’t think you were going to be able to wake up, and if you did, there was a great possibility, almost certainty, that you’d suffer from severe brain deficiencies. You’d lose your memories, your motor function, everything that made you, you.”

“I realized then that that’s why they were letting us wait in your recovery room. They were gifting us time because they were certain we were going to lose you. I asked about Callie, your mother had already gotten an update on her when she was in the waiting room, so the doctor really just talked to me. He told me that she was placed into an incubator, put on a vent, and would be under intensive observation for the next 72 hours. If she made it through the first three days, they believed that her chances were good, but those first 72 hours were critical.”

“I was still reeling from the news about Calliope when they finally brought you in, and when I looked at you, I was shocked. You were so pale, you looked like a ghost. There was tube in your mouth and all kinds of tubes coming out of your arms. I thought, there’s no way she’ll make it out of this, she won’t make it through the night, and while you’re mother and I sat there, holding your hands, I actually thought to myself, where was Christian? Why were you slipping away from this world while the man who told me, to my face, that he loved you was nowhere to be seen? I’d heard him promise you as you bled in his arms that he wouldn’t leave you, but he did. He wasn’t there, and it made me angry. I told Carla she may have been right about him, that there was no way he wouldn’t be here if he loved you the way he said he did, and while she agreed with me, the doctor who was examining you, uh…. Doctor Baker, I think her name was, she told me that he was in the waiting room. She said your mother had asked the staff not to let anyone who wasn’t immediate family receive any kind of information about your condition or the baby’s. She said he’d been asking to see you every chance he got, but they had to turn him away, they couldn’t tell him anything. She said if we’d let her, she’d love to bring him back right then.”

“He didn’t know. He had no idea how your surgery went, how your recovery was going, where his baby was… and it had been almost a full day. I didn’t think that was fair. So, I got up and I went out into the waiting room to talk to him. But when I came through those double doors and saw him, he looked up at me and the look on his face… It was like I was watching a man burning alive. He was in so much pain, I could see it.”

He has to stop to collect himself, but I don’t say anything. I just stare at him with wide, pain filled eyes until he speaks again.

“I told him that you were alive and in recovery, but that it didn’t look good. I told him that you’d lost too much blood and the doctors thought you were already gone, that it was the machines keeping you alive now. You would have thought I shot him if you saw the look on his face, the pain, the helplessness… He looked up at me and begged, actually begged me to see you, so I brought him to your room. Your mother was furious when she saw him, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t speak to her. He pretended like she wasn’t there. He sat in my seat next to your bed, took you hand, and started talking to you. I almost thought he’d gone crazy because he kept pleading with you not to follow Calliope, that he knew you’d want to, but he couldn’t live without you.”

“It didn’t make any sense. Callie was in bad shape too, but she was alive. She was in the NICU and the doctors hadn’t given us the grim prognosis for her that they’d given us for you. So, I told him, ‘Christian, Callie’s fine. She’s being taken care of right now,’ and he first looked at me like he didn’t understand what I said, and then at your mother. The pain on his face was gone instantly and replaced by fury, and as I listened to what he was screaming at her, I understood why. Your mother had stopped the hospital staff from giving him or his family any updates on the baby, and so after they’d told her about Callie’s condition, she’d told him that Callie was stillborn. That she’d never lived. She lied, and as I looked at your mother, the woman I’d been married to for sixteen years, it was like I suddenly didn’t recognize her. I didn’t understand how someone could be so cruel, and while the doctors rushed in to restrain Christian to try and keep him from attacking your mother, I grabbed her by the arm, dragged her out to the waiting room, and told her not to move again.”

“The rest of his family was still there, Grace, Carrick, Elliot, Mia, and Kate… Luke and Taylor too. They didn’t know what was going on, they still thought you’d lost Callie. Grace looked absolutely devastated, Kate was shaking… so I let them know what was happening. I think Carrick threatened legal action against Carla for lying to Christian about Calliope. I don’t what’s going to happen between her and the Greys, I don’t know if this is forgivable, and I didn’t know if I should say something at the time… I was going to, but then Christian was brought back out to the waiting room by two security guards. You’d coded again, and he was refusing to leave you, so they had to physically remove him. I thought he might try to chase them back into the ICU, but he didn’t. He just slumped into a chair, burning again, and I did the only thing I knew to help him. I took him to the NICU, and I introduced him to his daughter.”

“That helped, for a while. It probably would have done more if her color had been better, but he stared at her for a long time, throughout the entire night and most of the next day. He sat there, holding her hand through the side of the incubator and told her all about you, about the life he wanted for her. We all came to check on him over and over again, but he wouldn’t leave. He’d ask us about you and when we didn’t have anything to tell him, he’d ask us to go. Elliot finally got him out of there by convincing him that he at least needed to try and eat, but they came back just as the doctors came to talk to your mother and I. They were telling us that your heart couldn’t keep up anymore, that you had coded three times through the night and your blood count was in freefall… They reminded us of the improbability of you ever waking up, of you being in a practically vegetative state if you did, and then asked if we wanted to discuss withdrawal of care.”

“That’s why I’m sorry, because it was something I was ready to consider. I’d seen you and how frail you looked. I thought you were trying to go and I didn’t think you’d want the kind of life the doctors were talking about, but Christian… he flew off the handle. He wouldn’t hear it and when they let us back to say our good-byes, he refused to leave your side and refused to let anyone touch you. He was threatening everyone, I was pretty sure he was ready to fight anyone who came to take him away… Elliot tried to calm him down, make him see reason, but he said you always did things in your own time. He said that you just weren’t ready to wake up yet, but that you would and you would be fine. He wasn’t ready, and I couldn’t do it with him like that. I wanted to give him the time to accept what I thought was inevitable, so I told the doctors we were going to give you some more time. They continued your treatments, monitored your heart and your organs throughout the night, and somehow, miraculously, you improved. Your heart had been in A Fib, but it just… normalized. Your vitals grew stronger, your color started to come back… We waited another full day and then, you woke up. Like nothing had happened at all. I’ve never felt worse than I did when Kate came and told me that you were awake, because I was ready to give up on you, every one was, but not him. He fought for you, Anastasia. He refused to give up on you. He protected you. And now I know. Now I see the way he loves you. Whatever else is in his past, we can work through it, I’ll find away to work through it, but I trust your judgement now, Annie. If he’s what you want, I finally believe that he deserves you.”

I wipe away the tears flowing freely down my cheeks, and nod. My dad gets out of his chair and pulls me, gently, into a hug.

“But I don’t understand…” I say while his arms are still around me. “Why didn’t the doctors tell Mom instead of Christian about Calliope? Why would they let him think she was gone? Why didn’t they take him back to her the moment she was stabilized in the NICU?”

“Because I’m not her father,” Christian’s voice says from the doorway, and both my father and I start as we turn to look at him.

“What? Of course you…”

“Not legally,” he cuts me off.  “We’re not married, Ana, and the State of Massachusetts doesn’t assume paternity for unwed couples until the mother signs the birth certificate and names the father. You were unable to do that so guardianship and the ability to make medical decisions fell to Carla because she’s your next of kin. My father knew the law, it’s the same in Washington, so he’d already warned me that I was going to have to prove I was Calliope’s father. I was having my cheeks swabbed for a paternity test when your mother got the news about our daughter. She told me Calliope was… that she…” he shakes his head, unable to say the words. “She knew that if you… died, that I would fight to take Calliope from her and she wanted to avoid a custody battle. I think she thought this would be easier.”

“I would never have let that happen,” my dad interjects. “Carla has never been able to see or to admit to herself that a girl needs her dad. She tried to take Ana from me when she ran off with that son of a…” He stops, swallows, and then continues. “I wouldn’t have let your daughter grow up without knowing you, Christian.”

“Thank you, Ray.”

I stare at Christian for a moment in utter disbelief until the shock wears off and I’m left with nothing but anger. No, not anger… rage. Blinding, consuming rage that let’s me forget about the horrible pain and instead has my entire body shaking.

“Where is she now?” I ask through clenched teeth.

“In the waiting room,” my father answers. “Now that you’re awake… I think she’s afraid to come see you. I think she’s ashamed, which is impressive for Carla…”

“Bring her to me,” I tell him.

“Ana…”

“Bring her to me, right now!” Christian and my dad both fall silent as the forceful timber of my exclamation echos through the room. They both hesitate for a moment, looking as though they’re not sure whether or not it’s a good idea to do as I’ve asked, but eventually, my father nods, gets out of his seat, and leaves the room.

“I’m sorry, Christian,” I whisper once we’re alone. “I can’t believe she would do that… I can’t believe…”

“Hey.” He moves quickly to occupy the seat my father vacated and takes my hand in his. “You don’t have to apologize for her. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me…”

“You?”

“From the moment the paramedics put you in the back of the ambulance, I’ve been going over this and over this in my head, trying to figure out what happened. What we did wrong… We knew you were bleeding, I shouldn’t have just accepted it was something as simple as a scrape. If I’d have taken you to the hospital, they could have delivered Calliope earlier in the afternoon and you both would have been safe. Instead, you almost bled out on the table and Calliope was so oxygen deprived, she was blue when she was born. I almost lost both of you. For awhile, I thought I had.”

“Christian…”

“And I shouldn’t have been so rough with you the night before graduation. What if I injured you? What if I’m the reason you…”

“No, stop. This wasn’t your fault, Christian.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Yes, I can. The doctors said I had a placental abruption, right? Well, I’ve known that was a possibility for months, since Dr. Baker first told me I was developing  pre-eclampsia. If this is anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I should have taken her warnings more seriously, I should have worked harder to manage my stress better… Besides, I’m the one who didn’t want to go to the hospital, remember? I put graduation ahead of my own baby’s life. What kind of mother does that?” I fall silent for a moment, letting the impact of my own words wash over me, and then break down again. Christian gets out of his chair and sits on the bed next to me, holding me and rocking me back and forth as he tries to soothe me.

“Baby…”

“Christian, I have to see her. I can’t look at pictures anymore or videos on your parents’ phones. She’s been inside of me, protected from the world, for seven months and now she’s just gone. It’s like she’s disappeared and if I don’t see her today I’m going to… I-I… I just can’t. I can’t. Please, Christian.”

“I want you to hold her, baby. I want to bring her to you. I’ve spoken with the hematologist Dr. Baker called, offered him double his salary, and he’s getting here as quickly as he possibly…”

“Ana?”

We both glance  up and see my mother and father in the doorway. She looks at me uneasily, almost as though she’s afraid of me, and honestly, right now, she should be. I’ve never been so angry with anyone in my life, not with Christian when we first broke up, not even with Elena, ever. Even though I didn’t agree with their actions, I could understand them, see the motivation and the reasoning they used to justify what they had done, but this… this was just cruel. If my father wasn’t here, if I hadn’t woken up to fix what she had done, she would have ruined the lives of everyone I loved. That’s something I can’t forgive.

“Sweetheart, I’m so happy that you…” she begins in a breathy kind of voice that’s ladened with impending tears, but I cut her off before she can really start.

“I want you to go back to your hotel, pack your bags, and get on a plane back to Georgia. I have nothing more to say to you except for that I don’t want you around me or my daughter. Don’t call me again, don’t come visit me, don’t send me letters in the mail. We are done.”

“Ana, please…”

“Good-bye.”

She stares at me, dumbfounded, for a moment. Her body seems frozen which means she isn’t leaving, and while she stands there trying desperately to find something to say, I glance over at the corner of the room to where my CPO is seated.

“Luke.”

He nods and gets out of his seat to physically remove my mother from my room, and as his hands clasp around her forearms, she seems to overcome her shock and starts pleading for me to listen to her. Luke looks back at me but I shake my head and in the next moment, my mother is gone, leaving us only with the sound of her increasingly frantic cries as she’s pulled down the hall.

“Ana, you don’t have to… I’m not asking you to choose between your mother and I,” Christian begins, but I shake my head again.

“You’re not, she is, and this isn’t the first time she’s asked me to do this. She made me feel like I had to choose her over my dad when she ran away with Stephen. I shouldn’t have chosen her then, even for the few weeks that I did, and I’m not going to do it now.”

“But your parents…”

“I still have the only real parent I’ve ever had. The one who would never betray me the way she did this week, the one whose love is more than just words. Right, Dad?”

“Always, sweetheart.”

Christian lifts my hand to his lips so that he can kiss each one of my fingertips as my father comes to sit on my other side and focuses his attention back on the game still playing on the TV over my bed. The atmosphere in the room changes as we sit there, becomes more relaxed, and while I settle back into my pillows and try not to feel like the worst mother in the world, Christian plays with the engagement ring I was only just able to put back on my finger last night.

“You a baseball fan, Christian?” my dad asks as the innings change.

“Not for the fucking Red Sox,” he replies lightheartedly. “My dad and brother are diehards for the Mariners. In fact, he might have words for me just for allowing this shit to be played in Ana’s room.”

My dad laughs. “Yeah, well I guess that’s what you get this close to Boston. You know, babygirl, if you’d just had your baby the way we’d planned, we could be home right now, watching real baseball.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I’m inconveniencing your baseball game right now,” I say sarcastically. “How could I be so inconsiderate?”

“I don’t know, it’s not how I raised you,” he says, smiling but not looking away from the game.

I reach out and slap him across the arm, but when he turns to look at me, and probably to make fun of me for how weak that slap actually was, there’s a knock on my door and a new doctor I’ve never seen steps into my room alongside Dr. Baker.

“Miss Steele? I’m Dr. Wong, the hematologist Dr. Baker asked for.”

“Finally,” Christian hisses irritably under his breath, but I pay him no mind as the sudden appearance of the doctor I feel as though I’ve waited years for, the last doctor to stand between me and Calliope, has my full attention.

“Yes, yes…” I stutter. “How is my blood count? Can I see my daughter now?”

“No, and unfortunately the tests you’ve had done are inconclusive as to what your condition really is. I’m not sure what is depleting your cell count but if we don’t get it under control you risk developing permanent anemia or cardiac arrest.”

“So what do we do?” Christian asks, his voice urgent now and his hand gripped tightly around mine.

“We’ll start with an iron transfusion and overnight observation. If her counts aren’t better by tomorrow, we’ll have to consider steroid therapy.”

“Tomorrow?” I squeak. “I can’t wait until tomorrow. I haven’t seen my baby….”

“Anastasia.” Dr. Wong sits on the side of my bed and turns to face me. “Unfortunately, the iron transfusion is your best option right now. If we have to put you on steroid therapy, we’ll also have to give you an immuno suppressant. My understanding of what Dr. Baker has told me about your daughter’s condition is that she was born premature and has her own immune system deficiencies. If you’re placed on an immuno-suppressant, you will be unable to have any kind of contact with her until you’ve completed therapy and your system has stabilized.”

“What?” Panic rises inside of me but Christian squeezes my hand reassuringly as he addresses the doctor.  

“What time frame would we be looking at for her to complete that kind of therapy?”

“If the therapy is successful and we’re to ensure all of her symptoms and the related risks have been resolved, a minimum of four weeks.”

My breath catches in my throat, and stays there, choking me. My chest begins to heave as I struggle to take in oxygen and my head starts to feel light. Four weeks? I can’t go four weeks before I see my daughter… I can’t go another day.

“Four weeks is unacceptable. I can’t… Please. I need to see my daughter, now. Please, let me see her…”

Dr. Baker steps closer to the bed. “Ana, I know you need to see her and we’re doing everything we can to get you to Calliope. I promise, we haven’t lost sight of that. But we don’t just want you to see her today, we want you to take her home and have her every day. You’re not out of the woods yet, please let us help you.”

“I know how hard this must be, Anastasia,” Dr. Wong says. “But if the transfusion is successful, which I’m optimistic it will be, you could be able to visit your daughter as early as tomorrow morning. Let’s give this a try and worry about the other possibilities later, okay?”

I frown. I’m not happy with any of the options presented to me but I know that I have no other choice, so I nod. Dr. Wong smiles down at me and leaves the room with Dr. Baker. Twenty minutes later, I have a new IV and I spend the rest of the night counting each drop of the dark liquid from my iron transfusion as they drip with agonizing slowness through the tube and into my arm.

 

It’s a long night as Dr. Wong wakes me every 2 ½ hours to take my vitals, which means that I’m never really able to get any sleep. By the time morning comes, I’m so tired that I nearly sleep through the blood draw I have to go through so Dr. Wong can reevaluate my blood cell count. When he’s finished he tells me the results will take some time so I’m allowed to get a few more hours sleep, which is probably the only thing that keeps me from going out of my mind. Unfortunately, I’m able to sleep a little too well. The exhaustion seems to weigh so heavily on me while I sleep that when I’m finally being nudged awake, it’s almost difficult to open my eyes.

“Ana. Wake up, baby,” Christian says softly.

“Hmm,” I hum sleepily.

“Come on, wake up.”

I groan as I pry open my eyes and squint up at him through the sunlight pouring through the windows of my room.

“Did the results come back?” I mumble.

“Yeah, they did.”

“And?”

He pauses, and then smiles. “Let me help you out of bed. I want to take you to meet our daughter.”

 

Next Chapter

I’m out of breath. My entire body is sore, tired, and covered in sweat. The pain is horrific. All I can think about is how much I want it to stop. I want to sleep, but I can’t. Somehow, I have to find the strength to go on even though I feel as though I have nothing left to give. There’s only one thing that can keep me going now, only one person I would endure this for.

“You’re almost there, Anastasia,” Dr. Baker says. “Push.”

I tighten my muscles and force as much pressure down on my pelvis as I can manage, but my strength gives out too quickly.

“I can’t,” I whine as I start to cry. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can, baby,” Christian says at my side. “You’re doing so well. Take my hand.” I reach up, grasp the hand he offers, and squeeze it tightly.

“You’re almost done, Ana. I have her head,” Dr. Baker encourages me. “Just one more really big push.”

“Can you see her?” I ask, looking up at Christian. For the first time since I began pushing, he looks away from me and glances down between my legs. When he does, his face breaks out in a huge, radiant smile.

“Yes, I can see her.”

“Okay, here we go,” Dr. Baker says, calling my attention once more. “Give me the biggest push you can in 3, 2…”

I scream as I once again focus the last of my remaining strength into pushing my daughter from my body, and even though it feels almost feeble and the pain comes more intensely, there’s a shift and then I feel her go.  A second later, the room is filled with the high screeching sound of Calliope’s cries.

“I’ve got her,” Dr. Baker says, smiling. “Congratulations, Mama.” I laugh with pure, radiant happiness as Christian brings my fingers to his lips, kisses them hard, and then lets go so he can take the medical scissors the doctor offers him to cut the umbilical cord. I told her before I wanted them to clean her before they laid her in my arms because once I had her, I didn’t want to have to let her go. So, while I listen to the gentle sounds of water running into the metal basin on the other side of the room, Christian returns to me and leans over to kiss my still glistening forehead.

“Ten fingers, ten toes,” he says. “And she’s absolutely beautiful.”

“Bring her to me,” I plead. Dr. Baker turns as she begins wrapping my baby in a soft yellow blanket. Once she’s swaddled, Christian moves across the room to take our daughter into his arms and then, slowly, he carries her to me.

I reach desperately for her, but as he lays the pile of blankets in my arms, they collapse in on themselves. My face shifts with panic and I begin digging through the fabric, but it’s empty. She isn’t in there.

“Christian!” I exclaim, looking up at him, but he’s not there either. No one is. I’m alone in the room with nothing but a rumpled mess of blankets still hanging limply in my arms.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp pain in my side, strong enough to make me scream, and as I reach down to hold the place that hurts, my body jerks violently and I find myself sitting bolt upright in bed, disoriented.

The confusion has me panting to catch my breath until I reach down, feel my bump, and realize it had all been a dream. Still, just the knowledge that it didn’t happen isn’t enough to erase the lingering feeling of fear and panic from having her disappear out of my arms, so after looking over and seeing that Christian is still completely out, I crawl out of bed to use the restroom and splash some cool water on my face.

It was a dream… It was a dream…

Closing myself in the bathroom, I repeat the words over and over again, trying to get a grip on myself, but as I sit to pee and look down, a new, different wave of panic crosses over me when I see a single drop of blood staining my panties.

“Oh my god,” I whisper. I wipe and look down, finding a faint pink line of blood streaked across the toilet paper, then hurry to finish and rush out of the bathroom so I can get on my computer. My hands are shaking while I type, “bleeding late pregnancy” into Google and unfortunately, my fear is only heightened when I begin reading through the list of related conditions. The only comfort I find is a paragraph at the end of the page that says spotting during your third trimester can be completely normal, and since I have a pediatric surgeon who started her career in obstetrics coming over this morning, I force myself to stop panicking and make a mental note of the things I’ve read so I can ask her about them. Grace will calm me down much better than anything here will.

“How dare you,” Christian’s still groggy voice says behind me. I turn in my chair to look at him, my brow creased with confusion.

“How dare I, what?”

“Get out of bed. Come back to me.” He lifts the comforter back away from him, inviting me to join him, and I do. Once I’m enveloped in the blankets again, I snuggle into him, pushing as much of my body against his as possible as he wraps me back up in his arms. I hear his low moan of approval when he buries his face into my hair and while his heat washes over me, I wish desperately I could just go back to sleep and start this morning over. Unfortunately, that’s absolutely not going to happen.

“I’m bleeding,” I tell him softly.

“What? Where?” His hands move over my body, looking for an injury in my skin, but I shake my head.

“No, Christian. I’m bleeding. There was blood in my panties this morning.”

His face goes slack. “What?”

I watch him turn away from me and reach for his phone on his bedside table, but before he goes down the horrifying rabbit hole of life threatening pregnancy conditions that I just did, I reach out to touch his arm and stop him.

“Don’t look. I already did and you don’t want to know.”

“Yes, I do,” he corrects me. “What did you read?”

“It’s either absolutely nothing or I could be dying. There doesn’t seem to be an in between.”

“Get dressed,” he says, immediately pulling the covers away from him so he can scramble out of bed. “We’re going to the hospital. Taylor!”

“Christian, I can’t go to the hospital right now. Today is graduation.”

“I don’t care. If you need medical attention, we’re going to the hospital.”

“It could be nothing and your mom will be here in an hour. I’ll talk to her, see what she thinks and if she honestly believes I should go to the hospital, I will. But if she thinks it’s just normal spotting then I’m not going to skip out on my graduation ceremony.” He pushes his lips together, clearly not pleased with my plan, so I get out of bed and come around to wrap my arms around him and hold his gaze. “You know your mom will be overly cautious, and if she thinks we should go, we’ll go. But, really, it could be nothing, and could you imagine if I spent graduation day in the emergency room over nothing?”

“Fine,” he agrees at last. “But if she says you should go, you’re going. No arguments.”

“No arguments,” I agree. He nods and, as he leans down to kiss me on the forehead, there’s a knock on our door.

“Come,” Christian calls. Taylor steps inside.

“Sir?”

“Nevermind, Taylor,” he says, then quickly adds, “Thank you.”

“Yes, sir. Your delivery has arrived downstairs and Sawyer brought breakfast back for everyone.”

“Thank you, Taylor. We’ll be right down.” He nods and backs out of the room, and once Christian and I are alone again, an excited smile creeps across my lips as I turn to face Christian.

“Delivery?”

He smiles. “Would you mind if I give you your graduation gift early?”

“Oh, if you insist.”

 

We both hurry to dress so that we can head downstairs, and once we get to the kitchen, I find a huge arrangement of peonies in the middle of the dining room table, surrounded by an easy but delicious looking spread of fruit, croissants, and cheeses.

“They’re beautiful,” I say, turning back to smile at Christian.

“They’re only part of your gift.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small Harry Winston box. “I had this made by the same designer who did your engagement ring.”

I bite down on my lip as I take the box and slowly peel back the lid. Inside there is a gorgeous ring, not as large as my engagement ring, but not insignificant either. In the center of the platinum band is a square stone, the exact same shade as Harvard crimson, and on either side of the center gem are two diamond baguettes that sparkle in the morning sunlight pouring through the dining room window.

“Christian, it’s beautiful,” I tell him, awed. “Is it a ruby?”

“No, it’s red beryl. It’s extremely rare and at four carats, this is one of the largest beryl rings in existence. It’s very special, to celebrate your remarkable accomplishment. I’m very proud of you, Anastasia.”

I bite down on my lip to try and reign in my smile and then lean up on my toes to place a soft kiss against his lips. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You deserve it.”

“Good morning!” Kate chirps excitedly as she comes into the kitchen behind us. “Happy graduation day!”

“Happy graduation day, Kate,” I tell her. She comes over to hug me but stops when she sees the jewelry box in my hand.

“What’s this?”

“My graduation gift from Christian.” I pass her the box and her eyes widen as she looks down at the ring inside.

“Awh, it’s like a Harvard ring. And it’s gorgeous! Good job, Grey.”

“Thanks, Kate,” he says. “And happy graduation day.”

She smiles and thanks him before moving to the breakfast spread and putting a plate together for her and Carter. Christian busies himself with Taylor and Sawyer, going over the security plan for today since Taylor is concerned about Kate and I being lost in the ocean of identical black and crimson, which could be the perfect opportunity for something to happen to either of us. I choose to let them handle the logistics. I’ll follow my instructions but I don’t want to spend any time today talking about him. Today is about me and Kate and celebrating with the people we love.

“Carter is a disaster,” Kate tells me as she pours an extra glass of orange juice. “He’s really hungover, I don’t know how he’s going to make it through graduation today.”

“Yeah, we heard you two come in last night,” I begin hesitantly. “Everything okay? It sounded like you two might have been… fighting or something?”

Kate rolls her eyes. “No, he just got too drunk with his friends. They showed up at Mac’s not long after you and Christian left and when he saw me having a beer and a conversation with Elliot, he kind of freaked out a little bit. He told Elliot to stay the fuck away from me and then dragged me home. I wish I would have listened to you and told him about Elliot sooner. The way it is now… it’s like he can’t handle that Elliot and I are friends again and that might not have been true if he didn’t think I was hiding something.”

“He didn’t…” I pause, feeling awkward. “He didn’t hurt you or anything, did he? I mean, he sounded… intense when you two came home.”

“Oh, no! God, no, Ana. We’re fine. Great even. I think graduation is just a little stressful with our families being in town. And, speaking of which, I need to go call my parents. They should be here by now.”

“Okay,” I agree reluctantly. “Tell Carter I hope he feels better.”

“I will.” She leans over to kiss me on the cheek, and then gathers the plates of food and two glasses of orange juice in her arms before turning to leave the kitchen, bouncing slightly with excitement when Luke offers her his own congratulations. I start putting together a plate for Christian and then nibble on the end of my croissant as I listen to Luke and Taylor tell me the plan for today. Just as they finish though, there’s a knock on the front door, and while the sound sends Champ into a frenzie in the entryway and fills the entire downstairs with the booming sounds of his bark,  Luke moves from the kitchen to answer it. Seconds later I hear my mother’s voice echo from the living room.

“Ana!”

“In here, Mom.”

She sweeps into the kitchen and, once she sees me, her face crinkles with mixed emotion and she wraps me in a hug.

“Oh, sweetheart, congratulations!” She pulls away and her eyes briefly flit to Christian, but they don’t exchange any words or even any real sign of recognition. I glance over my shoulder and see that Christian has turned towards us and is leaning against the counter silently, but has his arms crossed over his chest.

“Bob and I are so proud of you,” my mom continues, drawing my attention back to her. “I can’t believe we’re already here. I am definitely not old enough to have a daughter who is graduating from college.”

“You certainly don’t look it,” I reply, with a smile. “Where’s my dad?”

“Oh he and Bob are just lagging behind…” she says, but once we both look back towards the front door, we see them both appear through the arch between the kitchen and the living room.

“Daddy!” I say excitedly, untangling from my mom to rush and hug him, but even though he hugs me back, there doesn’t seem to be much enthusiasm behind his greeting. I pull back and give him a curious look. “Is everything okay?”

“You and I need to talk, young lady,” he says, and while I feel my own body deflate at his harsh tone, I hear Christian shift behind me.

“About what?” I ask. He glances at Christian for half a second before turning back to me.

“Let’s go to your room,” he says. I frown, but nod, slowly, and move to lead them from the kitchen to my bedroom.

“Ana…” Christian calls hesitantly. I turn back and give him the most reassuring look I can, mouthing it’s fine, and then begin my climb up the stairs. Once I’ve closed the door to my bedroom, I plop down on my bed and stare up at my father expectantly. He paces for a moment and when I see the look he gives me when he finally stops to speak, I suddenly feel more like a child than I have in years.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Anastasia?” he asks.

This is a trap, and I avoid it the same way I have since I was twelve.

“What do you mean?”

“Ana…”

“I don’t know, Dad, but obviously you do. So why don’t you just tell me what you want to talk about?”

“I want you to tell me about Elena Lincoln.”

I feel a wave of cold dread the moment her name crosses my father’s lips and, as I feel myself receding slightly under my father’s hard gaze, I gather all the confidence I can muster, lock my jaw together, and turn to glare at my mother.

“What did you tell him?”

“I don’t care what your mother has to say right now,” my dad interrupts. “I want to know what you have to say. So, tell me about Elena Lincoln.”

I take a breath. “She’s horrible person who is no longer in our lives.”

“Nope. Not good enough. Start from the beginning.” He’s angry, I can tell just by the way his mouth is set, so I know that my mother has probably spilled every detail she knows. Probably even embellished on some parts she didn’t know the whole story on with details that aren’t accurate and don’t do Christian any favors. Unfortunately though, there isn’t much I can say to alleviate whatever it is he’s feeling because there are ugly things in Christian’s past, things that neither he or I are proud of. But there’s no point in rehashing them or dwelling on them now. He’s changed and I’ve made my choices. We’re not going back.

“Dad, Christian’s history with Elena Lincoln is long and complicated and painful, but most importantly, it’s in the past. We’ve moved on, she’s behind us, and Christian and I are really, really good. Happy. He loves me, Daddy. Isn’t that eno–”

“Did he or did he not lie in a court of law to keep a child molestor from going to prison?”

“U-uh… he… It’s not as simple as that…”

“Oh, it’s exactly as simple as that. Yes, or no?” I grind my teeth together and stare up at him defiantly. This is a no win situation, so I’m not going to engage in this conversation. At least not until he’s willing to listen to the whole story, but my silence only seems to stoke his anger. “Anastasia, so help me…”

“I’m not doing this with you,” I say calmly. “I’m not doing this with either of you. Okay, I am perfectly happy to sit down with you and tell you everything that’s happened over the last few years, including everything that’s happened with Elena, but not today. I’ve worked too hard and been through too much to make today about this. So I’m not going to do this with you right now and if you can’t accept that, then you shouldn’t be here.”

“Ana, we’re just worried about you,” my mother says, and I turn to glare at her again.

“Oh yeah, you were real worried when he flew you to Seattle last summer on a private jet and hosted you on a $35 million yacht for the weekend. You showed a lot of concern when you spent a week in the most expensive hotel in Paris and went on several lavish shopping sprees all on Christian’s dime.”

“That was before we almost lost you, Anastasia.”

“But that’s not what this is about. That’s not what you told Dad. He hasn’t said anything about what happened in Seattle, this is about Elena. You brought Elena into this because you knew that would be enough to turn him against Christian. I wanted him to get to know the person Christian is now before we got into everything that’s happened with her, but you made sure that didn’t happen. You don’t care about how hard Christian and I have worked to get to where we are now, how much he’s changed, or how happy we are now. All you care about is breaking us up and I don’t know why. You’ve always been so supportive, why are suddenly being like this with Christian?”

“You could have died, Ana. Why aren’t you taking that seriously? I almost lost my daughter and it was his fault. As long as he’s in your life, you are in danger. I want you as far away from him as possible.”

“Do you really think I’ll be safe if I break up with him? That if I leave, whoever is trying to destroy Christian will just leave me and his daughter alone? Christian will never stop loving me and as long as he loves me and as long as we share a child, I will be his greatest weakness. I’ve accepted that and he is doing everything in his power to ensure that I am protected and safe. He’s uprooted his entire life and moved to Cambridge to make sure of it. I am not going to throw away the best part of my life, the person who makes me happier than anything else in the world all because some psycho out there wants his money or his company or whatever it is that he’s after. I love Christian and I’m not going anywhere. If you don’t understand that…”

“Could you?” my father interrupts me, and I turn to look at him, confused.

“Could I what?”

“Go anywhere. Leave. Because I’ve gotta say, Ana, this Elena Lincoln business isn’t the first thing that’s raised red flags for me with your boyfriend.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I know you don’t think I’ve listened to you, but I have. I’ve listened to you, I’ve listened to Luke, I’ve listened to your mother… basically everyone who should have your interests at heart more than Christian’s, and I’ve gotta tell you that it worries me how controlling he seems to be with you.”

“Controlling?”

“He finds ways to make you dependent on him, baby. I saw the returned checks from Harvard when I got home and, since you’re graduating today, I know that tuition was paid. I could only assume that was him and your mother confirmed that. She told me that he did it behind your back when you were broken and you ended up taking that internship at his company last summer because you felt indebted to him. That’s how he got you back in his life after you said you wanted nothing to do with him. You came back to school after you spent the summer with him and he immediately got you pregnant, tying you to him. Even after spring break, he wouldn’t let you come back here unless he was with you. He watches everything you do and he has his people follow you wherever you go. He pays for your school, your housing, your car, your phone, all of your bills… Everything that could make you independent, he’s taken over so that you can’t leave him. That worries me, Ana.”

“You think any of that would matter if I wanted out? If I wanted to leave and Christian kicked me out of the house and cancelled all my credit cards and took back my car and turned off my phone, which he never would, I’d still have Luke. I’d still have Kate. Hell, I’d go home to you, Dad. Christian’s own family would take me in if I had nowhere to go. I’m not alone, I have a great support network. He’s not isolating me and he’s not trying to control me. My pregnancy was an accident and he pays for all of those things because he loves me and he wants to take care of me. That’s one of the ways he shows love. I promise you, Daddy. Christian is a good man. He’s never going to betray me, he’s never going to hurt me, and most importantly he makes truly happy. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

“Ray…” my mom interjects, but my dad holds up a hand to silence her.

“Carla, stop… This isn’t about you, I’m talking to my daughter right now.” He stares at me for a long time, considering me as he mulls over what I’ve just said, but before he can say anything, there’s a knock and Christian slowly opens the door.

“Ana, my mom is here,” he says uncomfortably.

“Oh, good.” I nod and turn back to my dad. “I’m sorry, I need to talk to Grace about the baby We can… finish talking about this later if we have to.”

“No, we’re not done here,” my mother says, shaking her head before turning to look at Christian. “You and your family can wait until we’re finished talking to our daughter.”

“Seriously, Carla?” Christian asks irritably. “She needs medical attention.”

“Then we’ll take her to see a real doctor when we’re finished talking.”

“Oh,” Grace says, stepping past her son to enter the room. “Now, I’m going to assume that wasn’t meant to be personal attack against me.”

My mother flinches awkwardly as she faces Grace and her cheeks pink, but as she opens her mouth to speak again, my dad cuts her off.

“Carla, for the love of god, stop. We can… we can do this later.”

My mom turns to look at him, making a sound as though she’s feeling a deep sense of betrayal from his dismissal, but when he nods toward the door, she gets out of her seat, shoots Christian one last disapproving look, and disappears into the hallway. My dad lets out a heavy breath and then comes over to wrap me in a hug.

“I love you, Annie. I hope you know that will never change. And I am so proud of you for what you’re accomplishing today.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I tell him. He turns to kiss me on the cheek, but instead of pulling away, his lips move to my ear. “I want to trust you about him. I just wish what I’ve seen matched what you’re saying.”

“Talk to him,” I plead. He nods, kisses me again, and then turns away to leave the room. Once he’s gone, Christian looks between me and his mother, then closes the door and takes me to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Okay,” Grace says with a heavy sigh. “What’s going on?”

“I was bleeding this morning, and I’ve been having some cramps. Well, not cramps really. Like a… a weird um… tightening, I guess. It was a little painful though.”

“How much blood?”

“Not a lot. Just a drop.”

She nods. “And how far along are you?”

“34 weeks, yesterday.”

“Well… at 34 weeks, the tightening could just be braxton hicks contractions, which are nothing to worry about and are perfectly normal. If that’s the case, I’d say the spotting is your cervix preparing for labor.”

“But I still have more than a month to go,” I say, panicked.

“No, I know. Your cervix can begin dilating as early as 28 weeks. Some women dilate up to four centimeters very early and then end up needing to be induced. It’s very common. Also, since it’s such a small amount of blood, it’s possible the bleeding has nothing to with the baby at all and could be an injury to the vagina. Have you… um…” She glances briefly at Christian, before visibly steeling herself and allowing her completely professional demeanor to cloud over her face. “Have you recently had rough sex?”

Heat floods my face. “Oh… um…” I swallow, trying to push down the embarrassment.

She’s not Christian’s mom right now, she’s a doctor trying to take care of me and Calliope.

“Yes, last night.”

“Well, that could be the culprit and we’ll assume the best until we have reason not to. However, bleeding isn’t something we ever want to ignore in your third trimester, no matter how minor it may seem. If you’re comfortable, I can examine your cervix and make sure everything looks normal.”

“Please,” I say immediately. “I won’t be able to sit through the graduation ceremony if I think something is wrong but if we go to the emergency room, we’ll be waiting for hours and I’ll miss it all together.”

“Okay.” Grace nods. “Then go ahead and remove everything from your waist down.” I get off the bed to shimmy out of my shorts and panties, which unfortunately show a new drop of blood, while Grace pulls her bag towards her and begins rooting through it for the appropriate medical supplies. Christian holds my hand once I lie down and Grace directs me to place my feet on her knees. I take a deep breath as she leans into me.

“Alright, you’re going to feel my hand…” she warns me, and in the next second I feel her gloved fingers, slick with goo, slide inside of me. As she begins feeling around the walls of my vagina, suddenly she presses against something that stings.

“Ah!” I gasp.

“Yep, you’re scraped here,” Grace says. She pulls her fingers out of me, glances down at them, and nods. “I think this your answer.” She lifts her hand to me, and I can see the tips of the latex covering her fingers are stained red.

“Oh, thank god,” I whisper, laying back into the bed with relief.

“I’d still like you to put a menstrual pad in your underwear so we can see how much you’re bleeding throughout the day. If it’s more than a few drops after the graduation ceremony is over, I think we should take you into the emergency room where they can examine you with a speculum and maybe do an ultrasound.”

“Okay,” I agree. She pushes away from me and steps out of the room so I can get dressed. Once I’ve pulled my shorts back up over my hips, I reach out and slap Christian across the arm.

“What was that for?” he asks.

“Clip your nails,” I reply in a tight voice, and he smiles.

“Sorry.” I glare at him, trying to remain indignant, but the cocky grin on his face, which I know is because he’s thinking about the exact moment his fingers were inside of me last night, brings that very vivid memory back to me as well, and I find it impossible to stay angry. He grabs ahold of me, pulls me back on the bed, and covers my body with his.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers, and then his lips are on mine.

“Ana!” Kate calls, knocking on my door, but not waiting for a response before she opens it. When she sees the compromising position she’s found Christian and I in, she frowns and crosses her arms over her chest.

“We have to leave in an hour. You should be getting ready.”

“She’s right,” I say, frowning up at Christian, and he sighs before nodding and rolling off of me. I take his hands so he can help me get out of bed and once I’m on my feet, Kate’s all business again.

“Which of these says ‘that’s right I’m the Harvard graduating class valedictorian and I’m hot as hell’ to you more?” She twists so that my focus shifts down to her shoes, the only part of her outfit that will show beneath her robe, and I smile at both pairs of sky high stilettos she’s picked out.

“I’d go with the caged sandals,” I tell her. “I think the swarovski crystals on the platform heels might be a little much.”

“If you say so,” she replies, clearly disappointed, and then she lifts her glasses, which she would normally refuse to be seen in public in, to her face. “Too much?”

I laugh. “Only if you don’t want to start a sex riot.”

“You’re right, better safe than sorry.” She smiles as she pulls them away from her face, but when she turns to leave the room, she stops and then rushes back to me to pull me into a very jarring hug.

“Kate!” I cough.

“Oh, sorry. The closer we get to leaving I’m just… Ana, can you believe this is finally happening? I mean, this is it. We made it!”

“We sure did,” I giggle. We beam at each other, the excitement growing more and more apparent on our faces the longer it goes on, until finally, Christian coughs behind me.

“Ana, you needed to get ready, remember?”

“Yeah,” I nod, and then let out a long, calming breath. “I’ll see you when it’s time, Katie.” She shrieks, her face lighting up, and then quickly scampers out of the room, leaving me laughing as I turn for the bathroom.

 

It’s packed when we get to Tercentenary Theater and as I glance over the ubiquitous sea of black and red mulling through the trees and over the sidewalks, the nerves I haven’t felt all morning suddenly peak.

This is actually happening.

“I think this is where we have to leave you, Annie,” my dad says. “Knock ‘em dead kid.”

“Thanks, Daddy,” I reply, and then hug him as tightly as I can. My mother is next, offering her own last bits of congratulations before she passes me to Bob, then Carrick, Grace, Elliot, and Mia. Finally, I slip into Christian’s arms and he leans down to press his lips against mine in a slow, tender kiss.

“Good luck,” he whispers, and then pulls back to look down at me with mirth. “Don’t fall.”

“Thanks,” I reply, deadpan, but when I narrow my eyes at him, he leans down to kiss me one last time, places the graduation cap that says For Calliope on top of my head, and tells me he loves me one last time. As I watch him turn and follow his family to the chairs placed in perfect lines at the back of the yard, I feel Luke slip his arm through mine.

“Ready?” he asks. I take a deep breath and nod. “Then let’s do this thing.”

 

The ceremony is long, and sitting under the hot May sun while I’m just a week shy of eight months pregnant has me regretting the floor length summer dress I chose to wear under my graduation robe. We listen to speeches from the President of the University, the President of Liberia, who is our keynote speaker this year, the Dean of Students, and finally Kate. I don’t know how she does it, but as she steps up to the podium and stares out at the hundreds of people waiting for her to speak, she’s the picture of serenity. She even pauses before she begins speaking as if she’s taking a moment to bask in the spotlight.

Strangely, I haven’t heard her speech yet. I’d half expected her to ask me listen to her rehearsing a hundred times over the last few weeks, but she never did, so I’m unprepared for the emotion her words bring out of me. She’s funny and clever, of course, but as she gets into the real substance of her speech and begins talking about inspiration, she tells us all about how selfish she had been when she first came to Harvard University. How she’d felt entitled to her education because her father had it, because she’d grown up in a Crimson sweatshirt, but that she never truly understood the gift that being here really was until she saw the names of Deacon Bryer, Constance Ledbetter, Lydia Robinson, Elizabeth Cook, Officer Todd Stoneburner, and Officer Christopher Haddock carved into headstones. She explains that these were the people who died her freshman year when she was the victim of a violent attack and how from that day forward, they became her inspiration to be as great as she could be. At the end of her speech, she dedicates her words and her time at Harvard to them, promising never to forget as she moves on to the next phase of life.

I wipe a tear away as my fellow classmates burst into applause around me and then slowly get to my feet to applaud her as she takes her seat on the stage next to the President of the University. Once the applause dies down, they invite the first wave of students to rise from their seats and to come forward and accept their degrees.

It’s interesting, listening to the list of names being called. Even once my row is summoned, the wait in line doesn’t seem so long as I watch people I’ve had with me on this remarkable journey for the last four years take their degrees and shake hands with the most important people at Harvard University. There’s a few people I haven’t seen or thought about in years, and as I watch the joy on their faces while they march across the steps at the head of the yard, I find myself wishing I hadn’t let so many relationships go through the natural course of time.

“Graduating Summa Cum Laude with a Bachelors of Arts Degree in English Literature and Creative Writing, Miss Anastasia Rose Steele.”

The applause that breaks out after my name is called has my face split into a grin so wide, my cheeks hurt by the time I’ve accepted the leather binder and shaken the hands of everyone in the long line. When I make it down the final step, I glance out in the crowd and am able to pick out my dad, still standing a few rows back into the family section, and the look of sheer pride on his face sends another wave of emotion over me that’s too strong to hold back.

It’s official.

I am a Harvard Graduate.

 

There’s one last speech after all the degrees have been given out, and once we are declared the graduating class of 2011, applause breaks out and hundreds of caps are thrown into the air. Luke takes my hand while everyone around me begins milling their way back towards their families, and as I pull out my phone to try and coordinate with my own loved ones, I’m surprised by a strong pair of arms wrapping around me.

“You did it, Annie!” my dad exclaims. I turn to face him, noticing how swollen and red his eyes are, and then quickly wrap him back in a hug.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Daddy. Thank you for everything you’ve given me. Everything you’ve done for me….”

“You did it on your own,” he cuts me off. “You did it with that brilliant mind of yours. Oh, I am so proud of you!”

I giggle as he sweeps me off my feet and then turn to hug my mother.

“Congratulations, sweetheart,” Bob says, and I smile as I thank him.

I’m passed again through all the Greys, Carrick holding me the longest as he welcomes me into the very proud tradition of being a Harvard Alumnus. The pride and joy I feel radiating from my family has me simultaneously laughing and crying, and while I wrap my arms around Christian’s neck and kiss him as deeply as I can, I think to myself that, selfishly, I wish Kate hadn’t broken up with Elliot. If she was here, this moment would be the most perfect moment of my life. As it is, it feels incomplete.

Then, my phone begins vibrating in my hand, and I wonder briefly if maybe Kate can read my mind. Maybe she’s looking for us too.

“Hello,” I answer, still beaming.

“Hello, Anastasia,” a cold male voice responds. “Congratulations, and can I say how beautiful you look today? I especially love the red ring on your right hand. That must have set Christian back a pretty penny.”

I freeze, feeling every ounce of joy radiating through me vanish, and immediately glance up at Christian with wide, terrified eyes. “Who is this?”

“Oh, you know who this is, Anastasia. Let’s not waste time pretending.”

Christian furrows a brow at me and I begin nodding frantically at him, pointing at the phone with shaking hands. It takes a moment, but eventually realization dawns on him and he begins waving for Taylor and Luke to rejoin us.

“Oh good, your security is on the way. Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Taylor comes up next to us and Christian quickly explains who I’m on the phone with.

“He’s here,” I mouth, and all three of them begin looking around the open yard frantically.

“They’re looking the wrong way,” the harsh voice says in my ear. “Tell them to turn around.”

I turn in the opposite direction that Christian, Taylor, and Luke are looking and begin scanning the crowd, focusing on each face and taking in every detail, but I don’t see anyone I recognize.

“Hello, Anastasia,” the voice says, and a chill runs down my spine as I realize I must have glanced over him.

“Here,” Luke says, pulling a small plastic box tangled in a long wire out of his jacket. “We can record what he’s saying, just keep him on the phone.”

I nod and take a deep breath to work up the courage to continue this conversation. “Well, you’ve got me on the phone. What do you want?”

“Ana, it’s your graduation. This is about what you want. I’d like to give you a gift.”

“You think I want a gift from you?”

“There has to be something…”

“I just want you to leave us alone, that’s it. I don’t want anything else from you.”

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s true. What about…. Leila Williams?”

I freeze and feel my mouth go dry. “Leila Williams?” I repeat, looking back pointedly at Christian. “You have Leila?”

“Yes,” the voice replies.  Luke steps close to me, the wire connected to the recorder in his hand, and he begins fumbling with the charging jack where I think he wants to plug the device in.

“How do I know that’s true? How do I know you really have her?”

“That’s my gift, I’m going to give her to you. I just need to know which part you want.”

“Excuse me?”

“Which part would you like? I’ll let you choose. I have to warn you though, some of her was… damaged in the process.”

My blood runs cold and I’m left momentarily speechless. It feels as though all the breath has been sucked out of me as I process what he’s said.

“Got it,” Luke says, giving a thumbs up to Taylor, and as he turns to nod to me, I realize I’m supposed to speak again, get him talking.

“Is she dead?” I ask, my voice quivering now as I feel the sting of tears behind my eyes, and he lets out a low, humorless laugh.

“Goodbye, Anastasia. Have fun at the arts center tonight with your family. I’ve seen what they’ve done with the place, it looks wonderful. Your graduation celebration will be truly special. Oh, and I’ll see you soon.”

The phone goes dead and immediately, my breath begins to push out of me in horrible, gut wrenching gasps. “He’s here… he’s here…” I stutter. “He’s been the reception hall, he can see us right now.”

“He could be lying,” Taylor points out. “He could be miles away, or maybe waiting for us to leave. He could be trying to scare her by telling her he can see her as a ploy to drive her away from the crowd.”

I shake my head. “He talked about my ring. He can see me.”

“Then let’s get you out of here,” Christian says. “Not to the graduation party, home. Find the Kavanaghs and tell them to meet us there. Taylor, I want your entire team securing that house. Lock it down.”

“Yes, sir.” Taylor pulls out his phone while Luke takes my arm and begins pulling Christian and I away from our family.

“Meet us at home,” I shout back to my father as he watches us disappear through the crowd with wide, worried eyes. I can see Carrick gathering Grace and Mia, even my mother, and pushing them towards the parking lot as Kommer and Cardella close in around us, but while I feel better that Christian and I are completely surrounded by security, I don’t like that everyone else I love is exposed. What if he goes after Grace… or Mia… or my Mom? Is Harrison with Kate? I don’t know, I haven’t seen her since the ceremony ended…

“Christian, what about everyone else?” I ask as we stop at my Lexus in the parking lot. “We can’t just leave…”

“They know where we’re going and they’ll meet us there. Right now, I have to get you out of here.”

My hands move down to my belly, protectively shielding my bump as best I can while I scan the lot around us for the Grey’s rental car, but when I don’t find it, I nod and take Christian’s hand as he helps me into the car. Before I’m able to turn and settle into the seat though, I feel a sharp pang of pain in my stomach.

“Ah!” I cry out, and the worry already so apparent on Christian’s face becomes more pronounced.

“What’s wrong?”

I shake my head dismissively. “It’s fine, I’m fine. Just another cramp.”

“Well… sit down. This stress isn’t good for you. You need to lay down when we get home.” I nod and then reach for my seatbelt, buckling it as we begin pulling away from the curb.

It takes a long time to get out of the parking lot, and because our car has been idling for so long, giving us ample time to be found, Taylor takes a very convoluted way home in case we’re being watched. We change directions several times, follow cars that look like ours only to turn away unexpectedly and head in the opposite direction. By the time he finally pulls into the driveway at the house, everyone else is already here. Christian quickly pulls me from the back seat of the Lexus and drags me inside. As Luke closes the door and begins locking us safely inside, Cardella leaving to stand at the front door while Kommer takes up post at the back, Taylor pulls out of the driveway and turns down the street again.

“Ana? Christian?” Kate calls, Champ’s paws scratching over the hardwood behind her, and when she comes into the kitchen and sees us standing there, she exhales with relief and walks forward to hug me. “What’s going on? Harrison wouldn’t tell us anything, just that we couldn’t go to the arts center.”

Harrison was with her. Good.

“He was there,” I say my voice still shaking. “He called me right after the ceremony and told me he’d killed Leila. Oh my god, Christian… Leila’s dead. It’s my fault. She saved me and now she’s… oh my god!” I break down and Christian immediately pulls me into his arms.

“Hush, baby. It’s not your fault. Thank god she saved you, but she made the choice to get involved with this fucker in the first place. We tried to find her. She should have come to us. It’s not your fault.”

I shake my head. “She said we couldn’t keep her safe. She said he’d get to her, that he’d eventually get to me. She said we were never going to be safe.”

“Hey, you’re safe right now. I’ve got you, no one is going to hurt you.”

I nod into his suit jacket, but when I take a deep breath to try and calm myself, I feel the sharp pang in my side again. “Ah! Fuck…”

“Baby…”

“It’s just… ah, cramps again.”

“Come on. Let’s get you to the couch.” He tucks me under his arm and leads me into the living room, with Kate and Luke trailing behind us, and once we make it out of the kitchen the eyes of everyone in mine, Christian’s, and Kate’s families turn to look at us expectantly.

“What’s going on? Why are we here?” Kate’s father asks. “I thought we’d reserved the arts center for Katherine and Ana’s party?”

“It’s not safe,” Christian says, and then turns to his family. “He’s here.”

“What?” Grace gasps. “Here? How?”

“I don’t know,” Christian says. My dad gets out of the chair he’s sitting in and rushes to me, taking me from Christian and holding me tightly as I hold back tears for Leila.

“Are you okay, baby girl?” he asks, and I nod because I don’t want to admit how devastated I really am. Especially not in front of my mother, who is shaking her head in the corner like she’s been expecting something like this to happen all day.

“So we can’t go there at all?” Mia asks. “What about the gifts? Taylor took the presents we got for Ana and Kate over there already.”

“And Carter was going to meet us there,” Kate adds worriedly.

“Taylor is on route to the arts center to collect Ana and Kate’s things,” Luke says. “I’m sorry, but in light of the phone call Miss Steele received, he’s going to have to open and examine all of the gifts for anything dangerous. But, I’m sure if he sees Mr. Reed, he’ll direct him here.”

Kate nods, and as I twist out of my father’s arms to return to Christian, he leans down, kisses my hair, and tugs me so that I turn for the stairs.

“I think you should lay down for a few minutes, at least until Taylor gets back. This is too much stress right now.”

I nod and give Kate what I hope is a reassuring smile as she looks away from the open blinds she’s peeking through to me, and then allow Christian to lead me up the stairs. Once I’m in bed, he gets me a cool cloth to lay over my eyes and then massages my feet, calves, and hands until I’m completely calmed. And while my body relaxes, so do the random cramps in my side.

Luke comes to get us after about half an hour when Taylor gets back, and once he verifies that Carter came back with him, I make sure to stop at Kate’s room, where she apparently disappeared to in order to get a moment to decompress by herself while I was laying down.

“Kate,” I say, but when I open the door I’m surprised to find that she isn’t alone. She’s standing in front of the bed, so close to Elliot they’re practically touching, and he’s looking down at her like he’s seconds away from lunging for her lips. Once they turn and see me though, they spring apart.

“I’m sorry, I just… I wanted to tell you that Carter’s here,” I say awkwardly.

“Thanks,” Kate says, and then she turns to look up at Elliot again. When their eyes meet, there’s pain on Kate’s face.

“I can’t,” she whispers, turning away and moving past Christian and I. Elliot’s body deflates as he stands there, in the room that used to be his, and stares blankly at the wall in front of him, not looking either me or Christian.

“We’re going to open gifts,” Christian says. “Join us when you’re ready.”

He nods, still not turning to look at us, so Christian pulls me out of the room and then silently holds me as we head downstairs.

I’m given a place of honor on the couch next to Kate as we pass the rumped gift bags and paperless packages to one another. Once again, I’m overwhelmed by the extravagance of the gifts I unwrap, even from my mother and father who gift me a very old ring that had belonged to my grandma Steele.

“Here,” Carter says, picking up a package next to Kate and passing it to me. “This one is for you.”

“From me,” Kate adds. I smile and open the hinged lid hid to the small white box she passes me. Inside there is necklace with a delicate gold chain and small diamond encrusted H pendant.

“I have one too,” she explains. “They’re custom made, so there are only two of them. I thought it would be a good way to remember that you and I shared this together.”

“I love it, Katie,” I tell her. “And I’m so glad you’re the one I did this with.” She smiles and reaches over to hug me, and as I struggle again to hold back tears, I pull away and turn to Christian.

“Will you hand me Kate’s gift please?”

He reaches for the book sitting at the foot of his chair and passes it to me so I can hand it to her. “I’m sorry, the lack of wrapping kind of ruins it…”

“A scrapbook?” she asks, opening the front cover.

“Mhm. Of all four years we spent here. I’ve been working on it for months.”

“Look, our first football game!” she exclaims as she turns to the first page. “And halloween…. Oh my god, Vegas! Will you look at that hair? What were we thinking?”

“That the only way to make it through sin city is to get as close to God as possible,” I laugh, looking down at our overly teased hair. She laughs and flips to the next page, filled with pictures that Mia took of her and Elliot, and Christian and I at the cabin in Aspen. She looks at the photos for a long time, almost longingly, then closes the book and turns to me.

“You’re amazing. I’m going to cherish this forever. Thank you, Ana.”

“You’re welcome, Katie. I’ll be at your house every year on this day and we’ll crack open a bottle of wine and look at those photos together.”

“It’s a date.” I lean in and hug her, and when we pull away from one another, a markedly less enthused Carter glances around the room.

“Anyone else?”

“Yeah,” a voice says behind us, and we turn to see Elliot standing at the bottom of the stairs. “I’ve got one more.” He reaches into the pocket of his jacket, pulls out a black velvet box, and hands it to Kate. She eyes it suspiciously for a moment then pulls back the lid to reveal a pair of spectacular diamond studs.

“Elliot,” Kate gasps. “I-I… I can’t accept this.”

He shakes his head. “I bought them a long time ago, three years ago, actually. When you left San Francisco while I was still at Stanford. We were fighting when you left because I was mad you’d spent so much of your visit doing homework. We weren’t even talking when I dropped you off at the airport, but when I got back to my apartment… I found that you’d left this note on my pillow.”

He pulls a very crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, and when he hands it to her, I’m able to read what it says over his shoulder.

 

I’m sorry I didn’t have much time this weekend, but I hope you’ll forgive me and that you’ll be proud when all this hard work means I graduate Valedictorian. I love you, El. -Katie

 

“I bought those earrings that day and I vowed to give them to you when you proved yourself right. And you did. Congratulations, Katie.”

She smiles and looks down at the earrings in her hand. “Thank you, Elliot. They’re beautiful.”

“You’re welcome. You deserve it, Kate. You deserve everything.”

They stare at each other again and, once more, the intensity of their gaze is palpable. An awkward silence falls over the room and when I hear Carter shifting in his chair like he’s going to get up, I try to head off any argument or fight that may be about to happen, by getting out of my seat, pulling Kate with me, and moving to hug the person nearest to me, which happens to be Grace.

“Thank you so much for your gifts, Grace. It means the world to me that you’re here with me today.”

“Of course, dear.” She smiles as she hugs me once more, and suddenly the room is filled with movement as everyone gets up to give their love to both me and Kate. I’m just released by Mrs. Kavanagh though when Carter calls everyone’s attention.

“I have a gift too,” he says. We turn to face him but his eyes focus only on Kate, and when he walks to her, he takes her by the hand and stands so that he’s facing her. “Kate, a lot of great things have happened to me while I was here at Harvard. But nothing has been as great as these last few months with you. You’re smart, witty, fun… and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I love you, Katherine Kavanagh, and I want to love you for the rest of my life.” He reaches into the pocket of his slacks and pulls out his own black velvet box, but when he hands it to her, he sinks down on one knee. “Will you marry me?”

Her mouth drops open and she stares down at the princess cut diamond framed against the royal blue silk inside the box with shock. I watch her chest begin to heave and her body begins to shake, but before she can say anything, I feel a sharp rip of pain, a hundred times more intense than anything I’ve felt today, in my side, followed by a rush of liquid pouring down the inside of my leg. I scream and, immediately, Christian is at my side.

“Ana?”

I try to answer him, but the pain is so intense, it’s difficult to breathe, let alone talk. His hands wrap around my upper arms to hold me up as my body begins to slump over and I cry out again, the movement intensifying the pain.

“I–I think my water just broke,” I’m able to pant, and Christian’s eyes widen.

“What?”

I reach down and gather the lengths of my skirt, but when I quickly yank the fabric up to my knees, it’s not clear amniotic fluid I see pooling in the carpet at my feet. It’s blood.

A lot of it.

A strangled kind of noise resulting from the mix of fear and pain escapes my throat, and when I look up at Christian again, I see that the panic on his face has been replaced with horror. But there’s nothing I can do or say to him because in that moment, as the dark crimson dripping down my legs begins to spread and seep further into the rug around my feet, my vision goes black and everything around me melts away.  

Next Chapter

 

I’m very emotional the day of my last final and it has nothing to do with my pregnancy. Each exam I’ve completed, each professor who has wished me luck as I left their room for the last time, it’s all been a part of the long, drawn out countdown of my last days of Harvard. And now that the true final day is here, all I want is to go back. To stay a little while longer. This place has changed me, given me everything, and I’ve fought for it. Beyond the countless hours of studying and the dozens of sleepless nights I’ve suffered through when the workload was overwhelming, it seems like the odds that I’d make it here have been constantly stacked against me. But I never gave up. I got here. I’m graduating tomorrow. There’s only one test left between me and my degree and the enormity of the life change that’s about to occur, has had me breaking down all morning.

I wipe a tear away as Luke helps me out of the back of the Lexus so that we can make our way into the Baker Center for the last time.

“Good luck, Ana!” Kommer calls to me from the driver’s seat, and I turn to wave to him before we head into the building. When I get to class, the atmosphere around me is electric. The perfect warm days we’ve been having mixed with the tangible sense of freedom in the air has everyone in such a good mood that even the notoriously difficult exams Dr. Boylston gives can’t dampen anyone’s excitement. I even receive a few smiles and waves from people I’ve been in classes with for multiple semesters but who have mostly been scared off by Luke and Kommer’s constant presence around me the last few months.

“Alright, settle down!” Dr. Boylston says as he enters the room and hands a stack of exams to the person sitting in the front right desk. “All exams must be completed in a University issued blue book, and if I see any cell phones out, I’ll collect your test and excuse you from the rest of the exam. You have 90 minutes. Good luck.”

Luke winks at me as I pick up my pen and begin reading through the first essay question. The exam is complicated and each question requires so many pages to fully respond, that my biggest concern suddenly becomes the 90 minute time limit. I glance up at the clock every few minutes, pushing my pen across the paper as quickly as I can, but as the 89th minute ticks by, I place my last period on the page.

“Done,” I say, relieved, and as I stare down at the words scrawled across the paper, the finality of that word really hits me.

Done.

I’m done.

“Congratulations, Ana,” Luke smiles at me. “Now, come on. Your family will be here soon to celebrate.”

I nod, get out of my seat, and take my exam to my professor. He smiles as he takes it, wishes me a good summer and a safe delivery, and after shaking my hand, I turn and leave the room knowing I’ll never come back again.

Once we get outside, it’s like I’m seeing campus for the first time. It’s like I’ve forgotten how beautiful it really was and while we make our way into the car, I find that I can’t look away from any of it. Even as Kommer pulls into the street, I turn to stare out the back window and continue to watch until the last of the buildings completely disappear from view.

I can’t believe it’s really over or how much I already miss this place, and I haven’t even actually left yet.

“I’m just dropping you off,” Kommer tells us as he turns onto our street. “Mr. Grey’s plane should be landing within the next thirty minutes and the traffic reports aren’t good.”

“That’s fine,” Luke says, and when the car stops, he quickly jumps out of the passenger’s seat to help me out of the back.

Now that we’ve finally made it to graduation, most of my house is packed away in boxes, ready to be loaded into a truck on Sunday and shipped back to Seattle, where it will be stored until Kate closes on the apartment she’s currently stuck in escrow with. It has most of the living room blocked off, which is fine because I need to get upstairs and into the shower so I can get ready for dinner with Christian’s family anyway.  As I make my way past the dining room though, which Christian is using as an office today, I glance over and see him on the phone, but looking up at me and waving me in.

“No, that all sounds fine. Can you hold just a moment, Ros?” He pulls the phone away and looks at me expectantly. “How’d it go?”

“Really good. Kommer is on his way to pick your family up from the airport so I’m just going to jump in the shower real quick.”

“Do you want me to join you?” he asks suggestively, and I smile but shake my head.

“And face the wrath of Ros Bailey? No, thank you.”

“Okay, I’ll be done soon.” I nod and turn for the stairs, but he calls out to stop me again. “Ana?”

“Yeah?”

“You did it. Congratulations, baby.”

“Thank you,” I say, my smile widening, and as he returns to his phone call, I start up the stairs two at a time.

Apparently Kommer was right about traffic because even though it takes me over an hour to get fully ready, the Greys still haven’t arrived by the time I get downstairs. Kate and Carter are home though, so I perch myself on the kitchen counter while they talk about their last finals, judging how they think they did.

“Whatever, it’s done,” Carter says irritably after complaining about a particularly terrible exam. “And once I’m done having dinner tonight with my family, I’m going to drink away every memory I have of these last two weeks.”

“Every memory?” Kate checks, and Carter smiles at her.

“Well, maybe not every memory…” He pulls her against him, making her squeal, and the affection between the two of them makes me smile. It also reminds me that Christian is still working rather than hanging out with us, but as I look back towards him, I’m distracted from my dissatisfaction by the sight of my Lexus in the driveway, which I can see through the dining room window.

“Ana!” Mia shouts as she comes through the front door, so I quickly jump down from the counter to scurry from the kitchen to the living room. The moment she sees me, her face breaks into a huge smile.

“Hey, Meems!” I laugh as I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her tightly while I shift her from side to side. “How was your prom?”

“Great, except that Pippa Conrad won prom queen and now she walks around like she’s queen of the world or something. I’m starting to see why Christian liked fighting so much in high school. Man, I’d love to punch her in the eye.”

“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Christian says coming up behind me. “It was always a hassle having to start over at new schools all the time.”

“I love how that’s what you focus on,” she says, rolling her eyes, and she releases me to go to him.

“Hello, Darling!” Grace coos as she comes through the doorway with Carrick and Elliot in tow. “Congratulations, we are so proud of you.”

“Thank you, Grace.”

“How’s the baby? Has the third trimester been tough?”

“A little, but I’m managing. Your son has been a tremendous help getting me through everything.”

“I doubt that,” Elliot says, replacing his mother and hugging me tightly to him. “Christian’s always been more of a nuisance than a help.”

“To you maybe,” I laugh. I reach up to flick him on the forehead and while he takes a moment to look at me as though he can’t believe my audacity, eventually his open mouth breaks into a grin and he hugs me once more.

“It’s so good to see you. It’s not the same back home without you and Christian around.”

“Well, you’ve only got a couple more days,” I assure him, gesturing to the moving boxes and then stepping to the side so that I can greet Carrick. But when I see what he’s wearing, I stop, and feel my lips press together in a pout as a sudden wave of emotion hits me.

“Do you like it?” he asks, twisting from side to side to model his My Daughter is a Harvard Graduate t-shirt. “I had enough made so that I can wear a different color every day we’re here.”

I cover my hand with my mouth as my bottom lip begins to tremble. “I love it. I really love it. Thanks… Dad.”

He smiles and pulls me into a tight hug.

“Oh my god, Kate!” Mia squeals. I turn around and see that Kate and Carter have joined us in the entryway, and now Mia is clinging excitedly around her middle.

“Meems!” she exclaims, mirroring her excitement.

“Mom didn’t know if you were going to be here or with your own family. I’m so glad you are!”

“You didn’t think I’d let you sneak through here without saying hello, did you?”

“Of course not,” Grace says, stepping forward to hug her. “It’s so good to see you, dear.”

“You too, Grace,” Kate replies, groaning as she squeezes Grace as tightly as she can. “You too.” Grace twists her head to kiss Kate on the cheek and as she steps back, Carrick moves forward to take her place.

“That is a great shirt,” Kate laughs, and Carrick smiles.

“Thank you. There was a time when I’d hoped I could make one that said daughters.” Her face falters slightly, but she recovers her smile when she steps forward to hug him, and as his arms close around her, Carter coughs behind them.

“Carter,” Carrick says. “Good to see you again.”

“Mr. Grey,” Carter replies. He holds out his hand and they shake, but once he releases Carrick’s hand, he moves straight past Grace and Mia to Elliot.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” Elliot asks, reaching out to shake his hand as well. Carter glances down at it, hesitating for a moment, before he finally reaches forward and grips his fingers with an excessive amount of force. I bite my lip as I turn to look at Christian. Kate told Carter last week that she and Elliot had started texting again, and as a result, Elliot’s imminent arrival has been the subject of a lot of stress for her. Apparently, Carter hasn’t lost any of his possessive nature in the three years since he and I broke up. No ultimatums have been made, but his general attitude about Kate spending time with Elliot is not something he’s hidden.

“Elliot,” Carter says tersely. “It’s good of you to come and support Ana. I know it means a lot to her.”

“Well, she’s my sister so…” he replies awkwardly, and when Carter releases his hand, he immediately begins flexing his fingers. Carter gives him a tight smile and then turns back to Kate.

“Well, baby, I better go. My parents are going to be arriving soon and they’re going to want to get dinner as quickly as possible.”

“Okay, have fun. Send your mom my love,” Kate says. She moves past Grace so she can kiss him good-bye, but Carter doesn’t go in for a polite, chaste peck. He pulls her tightly into his body and brings his lips to hers in a deep passionate kiss that is clearly meant to make a statement. Especially when he rolls his face to the opposite side of hers and we all see his tongue moving through her mouth.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he tells her, and she nods. “Have a good night, baby. I’ll miss you.”

“You too,” Kate says, and with one last kiss on the tip of her nose, he turns to leave.

“Well, we should be thinking about dinner, too,” Grace says, breaking the awkward silence that lingers after Carter’s exit. “It’s starting to get late, I imagine Christian and Ana are starving.”

“I’ve made reservations at The Table,” Christian says. “And, since graduation is tomorrow, we should hurry. It’s most likely going to be very crowded.”

“Do you have plans with your family tonight, Kate?” Carrick asks. She shakes her head.

“No, my family won’t be here until tomorrow.”

“So why didn’t you go with Carter?” Elliot asks.

“Oh, his family is… um. They’re just about their family. It’s okay though. I’m just going to stay in tonight and polish my speech. Make sure I’m ready to knock ‘em dead tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not,” Grace says. “We’re not leaving you here alone on the eve of the most important day of your life so far. You should be celebrating! You’ll come to dinner with us.”

“Oh… I don’t want to intrude.”

“You’re never an intrusion, my dear. Come, I won’t hear another word about it.” Grace sweeps her arm out to gesture her through the front door, and Kate smiles before wrapping an arm over Mia’s shoulder to walk with her out to the car.

“See you there?” Elliot asks, looking to Christian and me as he turns to follow his parents.

“We’ll be right behind you,” Christian affirms, but once Elliot leaves and closes the door behind him, Christian’s hands are suddenly on me, pulling me flush against his body so he can take my lips with his.

“Alone at last. You know this is the first time I’ve had you all to myself in three days?” He kisses me again, and reaches down for the hem of my dress.

“Hold on there,” I tell him, but even when I pull away from his kiss, his lips simply move down past my jaw. “Christian! You’re family is already on the way to the restaurant, we don’t have time for any funny business.”

“I know,” he says, continuing to suck lightly on my neck. “I just want you prepared for what’s in store for you tonight. When I finally get you all to myself, for real, I want you ready for me.”

“Ready, huh?”

He leans back and wags his eyebrows at me once. “Really ready. Should I go get the Ben Wa balls?”

“You have them here?”

“Oh, baby. I’ll never go anywhere without them again. I love what they do to you.” I moan as he leans in to kiss my neck again, but as I feel myself begin to melt in his strong arms and my already fragile self-control starts to wane, I force myself to push away from him.

“We have to go. You and your silver balls will just have to wait.”

“If you say so.” His smile is mischievous, and while I stare back at him suspiciously, he kisses me one last time before taking my hand and leading me through the back doors where our security team is waiting by the car.

 

Christian was right, The Table is extremely crowded. The line going out the front door wraps around the side of the restaurant for a whole block and every parking place within close distance is filled. Taylor circles the block to let us out near the door so, while Christian, Luke, and I head inside, he can find parking on the next block over.

“Do you have a reservation?” the overly flustered hostess asks once we’ve fought our way inside.

“Grey,” Christian replies. “I believe the rest of our party has already arrived.”

Relief crosses her face as she nods, probably because she can actually help us instead of telling us how long we’re going to have to wait or turning us away. She says something into the microphone on her headset and a few seconds later another girl appears to lead us to a private dining room at the back of the restaurant where Kate and Christian’s family are already seated, laughing together as they glance over the menus.

“Over here, Ana!” Mia says, pointing to the open seat on her right. Christian takes my hand and leads me to her, pulling my chair out for me, and as I sit down, I glance over to see that Kate is seated on her left, next to Elliot, and the two of them seem to be having a conversation all their own. I pick up my own menu and start glancing through the entrees but Christian doesn’t touch his. Instead, he leans over towards me, like he’s going to share mine, but as I tilt the stiff paper towards him, his hand slides up my inner thigh under the table and disappears beneath my dress.

“What do you want, baby?” he asks, his voice laced with double entendre, and I swallow hard.

“Uh… a salad, I think.”

“Something, light? That surprises me. I thought you’d want something much more…” his breath hisses between his teeth as his finger slip beneath my panties, low enough that only I can hear. “Exotic.”

My thighs clench together and I bite down on my bottom lip to suppress a moan as his fingers begin to toy with my clitoris beneath the table. I take a breath and turn the page. “Filet Mignon then. If I’m going to splurge, I want it to be… excellent.”

“Mmm,” he hums. “Excellent does sound right on par for tonight. I’ll have the same.”

“You do that,” I laugh, but the sound is cut off by a surprised gasp when he very suddenly pushes one of his fingers inside of me and then presses firmly against the front wall of my vagina as he pulls it out.

“Ana?” Kate asks, turning a concerned look on me. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah.” My voice is too high. “I just need some water.”

Christian smirks as he pulls away, and while I set my menu down, take a sip of water, and try to re-engage with the conversation around the table, he subtly lifts his finger to his mouth and sucks on the end. When I turn to look at him, he licks his bottom lip and wags his eyebrows again.

Thankfully the waiter comes in then, so I’m given respite from his very erotic distractions.

“So, Ana, how did finals go?” Carrick asks, once we’ve placed our orders.

“Good. I have one that I’m worried about. My Trans-Reformation English Writing professor was the only professor who wouldn’t let me make up for the work I’d missed after spring break, or after the two doctors appointments I had that conflicted with his class. So I have a B. I had to get an A on the final to keep my 4.0 average and Dr. Weisberg grades particularly tough. And, he doesn’t submit his grades until the last possible minute so I won’t get to know how I did until 8 o’clock tonight.”

“That’s just horrible,” Grace says. “Why on earth would he refuse to allow you to make up what you’d missed after hearing what had happened to you?”

Kate snorts. “You’d be surprised. The prestige and power placed upon some of the professors here give them such a complex that they liken a student missing their lectures to a crime against God. I had to appeal to the dean of students for the same type of behavior when I was laid up after my surgery last January, even though I had special permission from the University to take my classes from home until I’d been cleared by my doctors to return to campus.”

“You had surgery in January?” Grace asks, and Kate’s face goes blank.

“Oh… I… Uh…”

“She was in a skiing accident,” Christian says quickly. “With her friends from New York.”

“Right,” Kate agrees. “Yeah, I had a bad fall and I had to have surgery.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” Elliot says, his voice colored with concern, and as she shrugs, Grace shakes her head and turns to Carrick.

“Well, it seems like our family had a lot of bad luck needing surgeries this winter, but I’m glad you and Carrick both came out for the better. In fact, didn’t you have something you wanted to tell Christian, dear?”

Christian looks up at his father, who smiles. “I completed my last scheduled round of chemo last week and we had a new scan done a few days ago. It came up clean. I’m officially in remission.”

“What?” Christian repeats, in disbelief.

“I’m cancer free.”

“Dad.” He sounds breathless as he quickly jumps out of his seat and walks around the table towards his father. The moment Carrick stands, Christian pulls him into a tight embrace. Grace laughs happily and Mia reaches over to squeeze my arm, but even though I hear Kate get out of her seat so she can hug Carrick as well, I can’t move. I can’t do anything, I can’t even breathe. My throat goes painfully dry, tears spring to my eyes, and before I know what’s happening, I burst into deep, gut wrenching sobs.

“Ana,” Elliot says, getting up and moving past Mia so that he can pull me into his chest. “It’s alright. This is good news.”

“It’s amazing,” I choke out. “I’m sorry, this isn’t the right reaction. I’m just overwhelmed. I’m so relieved, for you, for Christian, for Calliope, for everyone at this table.” My voice cuts off as another sob works its way out of my chest and Carrick releases Kate, who also has tears in her eyes, to come and wrap me in a hug. “I’m so happy Calliope is going to have you in her life,” I whisper to him. “You’re going to be an amazing grandfather, Carrick.”

“Well, she’s one of the most important reasons I fought through this,” he says. “Because I really can’t wait to hold that little girl in my arms.” He kisses me on the cheek and then passes me back to Christian, who holds me so tightly, it’s hard to breathe at first. I twist my arms under his and hold him close, moving only to reach up and kiss him softly on the chiseled line of his jaw. When he pulls away, the smile on his face is so genuine and filled with joy that it almost brings me to tears again. I know how hard this has weighed on him, I know the fear that has filled his heart every day since Carrick collapsed last Thanksgiving, and finally, we’re past it. We can move on.

He kisses me once before releasing me, and as I lower myself into my chair, he steps around me and hugs Kate. I watch while he subtly turns and whispers something in her ear, and after he kisses her on the cheek and then pulls out her chair for her to sit again, tears begin rolling more freely down her cheeks.

“What was that?” Elliot asks, eyeing Christian suspiciously as he returns to me.

“Nothing,” Kate says, shaking her head and wiping away her tears. “Christian and I have just gotten really cl-lose.”

“Hey,” he says, reaching up and rubbing his hand gently over the backs of her shoulders. “It’s alright, we’re all good here. No tears, okay? Jesus, between you and Ana, is there something in the water here?”

“No, I’m just really happy that you’re better,” Kate says, looking up at Carrick. “I’ve worried about you and… and I’m just really happy that you’re going to be okay.”

“Thank you, Katie,” he says.

The doors to the dining room open and the waiters carrying the trays filled with our food begin circling the table. After they’ve ensured there’s nothing else we need, we’re left to eat in solitude, and as we enjoy our meals the joy from Carrick’s news seeps into our conversation and fills the room with laughter.

“So, how’s your house after Gia left?” Christian asks, turning to Elliot. “Any significant damage?”

Elliot frowns and then shakes his head. “No, actually. Once she texted me that she was out and told me where she’d left her key, I called one of the contractors I work with and had him go back to the house with me, but it was fine. It looked like whoever helped her get her shit out wasn’t very careful, because there were a few dings in the walls and she took a chair that wasn’t really hers, but other than that everything was fine. And she’s just disappeared since then. I went into work the following Monday preparing myself for the ‘let’s keep it professional talk’ but she wasn’t there. Her office was cleaned out and there was a letter of resignation on her desk. She hasn’t called or texted me, she changed her number… she’s just, gone. I guess she really is fucking pissed.”

“Enough to quit her job?” Christian asks, and Elliot shrugs.

“I guess. I keep waiting for someone to call me for a reference, and I’d give her a good one because her work was never an issue, but there’s been nothing. It’s kind of weird actually, like she’s disappeared.”

“Weird,” Christian repeats uncomfortably. “Right.” I turn to look at him, trying to gauge his expression, but my attention is very quickly distracted by Grace, who seems to be eager to change the subject.

“Ana, where’s Ray?” she asks. “We were surprised he didn’t fly here on Christian’s jet with us.”

Unfortunately, this isn’t my ideal diversionary tactic because my father’s late arrival has been a very tense subject all week. I take a deep breath and hear Christian do the same. “He’s flying in tomorrow morning,” I reply, but she raises an eyebrow, not willing to let me get away with such a dismissive response.

“That surprises me. I would have thought he’d want to spend as much time as possible with you, especially since you haven’t been home in over a month.”

“He does, it wasn’t really his choice.”

“Oh, it was his choice. The fact that anyone is giving into her tantrum is a choice,” Christian interrupts. His mother looks over at him, surprised by the sudden hostility in his tone, and I sigh before I explain.

“My mom and Christian aren’t in a great place right now…”

“No, don’t act like we’re equal players in this, Anastasia. I never said or did anything to that woman to make her…”

“Okay, okay,” I cut him off with a conciliatory tone. “My mother has formed some opinions and said some things to Christian that are making it very difficult for them to have a relationship right now. Still, Christian offered to pay for her flight out here but she refused and said she didn’t want his um… money.” Christian snorts as I leave out my mother’s very colorful descriptor of that particular word. “So, she bought her own ticket, which is for very early tomorrow morning, and then asked me to pick her up from the airport. When I told her that I was going to be busy tomorrow morning getting ready for graduation and offered to have Luke or Taylor come pick her up, she said she was here for me but that as long as she was here, she wanted nothing to do with Christian or the people he paid. She and I got into an argument over it and I ended up telling her that if she was going to act that way then she could rent her own car or pay for a taxi and she went on a very long tirade about how I didn’t even care if she came at all, and how she’s my mother and Christian is keeping me away from her, turning me against her…”

“She yelled at you until you cried,” Christian interjects.

I take another breath. “Anyway, it got bad so that when my dad called me and I told him what happened, he offered to fly to Georgia first, talk her down before she got here to try and head off any arguments that would have happened when she got here, and then fly with her to Boston so that he could rent a car and drive them both down.”

“Oh, well… that’s very diplomatic of him,” Grace says carefully. “But I’m sorry that it means you missed a day with your father.”

“Me too,” I say, tearing the bread on the edge of my plate into tiny pieces.

“She’s making this about her,” Christian says, reaching over to place a hand on my knee. “She always tries to make everything about her and I’m not going to have it this time. Not about this. This is your graduation, Ana, your moment. Let’s not waste any more of your day talking or worrying about her.”

“Right,” Carrick adds. “This weekend is about Ana. In fact, I think we could do with a toast.” He raises his glass and tilts it towards me. “We are so very proud of you, Anastasia. Both for all that you’ve accomplished, and for the woman you have become. We could not wish for a more perfect woman to have in our family. Congratulations on graduating from Harvard.”

“To Ana,” Christian confirms, raising his own glass, and the rest of the family follows.

“And to Kate!” I add. “She’s our valedictorian, and no one deserves it more.”

“To the valedictorian!” Mia exclaims.

“Hear, hear,” Elliot adds, and finally, everyone drinks.

 

Everyone is in very high spirits when we finally leave the restaurant, and the excitement is only heightened when the high ping of an email coming in sounds from both mine and Kate’s phones.

“Grades are in,” Kate says, looking down at the screen of her phone and I immediately fish mine out. Inside the email there’s a link to the student portal that lists our final grades, and I find myself holding my breath as I click the screen and read the text that pops up.

 

Student Name: Steele, Anastasia R.

Course Schedule:

Political Journalism Writing: 97.6%

Advanced Fiction Writing Workshop: 99.3%

Literature of the Enlightenment Period: 94.1%

Kaleidoscopic Romanticism: 97.5%

Trans-Reformation English Writing: 90.9%

Cumulative GPA: 4.0

 

“Well?” Christian checks, and I smile up at him.

“4.0 intact!” He smiles back at me and quickly moves to wrap his arms around me, congratulating me again as he spins me once through the air and passes me off to his family.

“Okay, we can’t just call it a night now,” Kate says. “We should go out! I’ve been stuck in the house studying for the last two weeks, I’m graduating tomorrow, I want to spend time with all the people I love and I want to celebrate.”

“You kids go have fun,” Carrick says. “We’re gonna turn in.” He pulls Mia toward him, silently demonstrating that she’s a part of his we, but he doesn’t do the same for Elliot.

“Uh… sure,” Elliot says. “What do you want to do?”

“Mmmm, let’s go down to Mac’s Pub and shoot some pool. Christian and Ana can play doubles with us.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Christian says. “I think Ana and I are going to head home. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow and she needs… rest.”

I glance over and meet his gaze, and when I see the twinkle of lustful promise hiding behind the steel gray looking back at me, the pent up frustration after a night of hiding him playing with me under the table sends a wave of vindictiveness washing through me.

He wanted anticipation? I’ll give him anticipation.

“No, I want to go!” I say, pouting as I turn and press against him, and he frowns.

“What?”

“Well, we’re going home on Sunday, and my parents are going to be here tomorrow. This is really our last free night in Cambridge.”

“And you want to spend it at a bar playing pool?”

“Sure do. In fact, I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” I pivot my body to shield what I’m doing from Kate and Elliot and then reach down to grip him through the front of his pants. His muscles tighten and a huge, taunting grin spreads across my face, but as the understanding dawns on him, the corner of his mouth upticks into a cocky kind of smirk.

He’s up for the challenge.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.” He gestures for Luke to lead the way to the car and as he takes my hand in his, Kate wraps her arm through Elliot’s and bounds after us.

Taylor doesn’t seem very excited about the idea of Mac’s Pub, probably because, like The Table, it’s overly crowded, only here we don’t have a private dining room Luke can stand outside of monitoring everyone who goes in and out. We have to wait in the car for a few minutes for Kommer, Cardella, and Harrison, Kate’s bodyguard, to arrive, and when they do, Taylor sets Harrison and Kommer at both of the entrances to the bar and instructs Cardella and Sawyer to basically attach themselves to Christian and I while he meanders through the bar to keep an eye on everything, and everyone. The entire night, if I move, so does Cardella. The waitresses popping through the crowded tables aren’t allowed to bring us any drinks. Taylor watches everything being made and delivers it to us personally. Even the three tonic waters with lime that I ask for, which don’t even have to be mixed.

“That’s a very crowded table,” I say to Christian as Kate sinks the seven ball in the top right corner. “They’re beating the pants off us.”

“Someone should be,” he says under his breath. I smile and take a quick grab at his exquisite ass before moving around the table to watch Kate miss a bank shot on the two.

“You’re up, Ana,” she sighs. I scan the table for the best shot on a striped ball, but as I bend over the rail, Christian calls out to stop me.

“Hold on just a second,” he says, making his way around behind me. “Your posture’s off.”

I feel his hands on my hips and then feel him press into my backside, hard and ready, and it makes my thighs clench with excitement. He bends me farther over the table and then uses his hands to pull my behind more firmly into him.

“That’s better,” he whispers, and as he moves a step back, I take a deep breath and make the shot. The nine bounces off the bannister and knocks the four into the side pocket.

Elliot laughs. “Oh my god, you guys are the worst at this game.”

“We knew they would be,” Kate adds. “Not everyone can be as fucking awesome as we are.” He laughs again then slides up next to her, and with a wave of his arm they suddenly launch into a crazy complicated handshake that involves involves synchronized kicks and jumps, even sound effects. When they’re finished, Kate breaks down in laughter.

“Alright, I’ve got to go to the bathroom,” I say, rolling my eyes, and as I hand my drink to Christian to hold, he raises an eyebrow at me.

“Do you want me to come?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Grey,” I reply, and then lean up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “But I think Cardella can escort me just fine.” His responding groan makes me smile, and when I turn and walk away with Cardella, I purposefully sashay my ass back and forth as I cut through the crowd.

We stay for two more games, which last a little more than an hour, and the entire time we spend in the crowded bar is a convoluted game of cat and mouse between Christian and I. In the bathroom, I pause to take a very revealing picture of my cleavage to text to him, even making sure a noticeable amount of my nipple is visible in one. He responds by sending me a series of his own explicit text messages, only his are spelled out in words, not pictures. By the time I start stroking my cue with the tips of my fingers, trying to seem as though I’m doing it absentmindedly until I turn and look him dead in the eyes, he’s had enough of the game and on his next shot, he purposefully sinks the eight ball.

“Ooh, bad luck, bro,” Elliot says, but Christian simply shrugs and hands his cue back to Luke.

“That’s fine. Ana and I need to get home anyway, it’s getting late. Please, stay and enjoy the rest of the night. Your drinks are on me.”

“Well if you insist. Taylor! The Russian Imperial Stout!”

Christian shakes his head as Taylor moves to the bar to fetch Elliot’s $20 beer, but when he returns, Christian takes my hand and nods for him to lead us out to the car, and all I can do is give Kate a quick wave goodbye before I’m being pulled from the bar.

It’s a tense ride as I feel Christian’s hands itching to reach out for me the entire way home, and when we finally do finally pull into the driveway, he practically bolts from the car.

“Give us one hour,” Christian says to Taylor, and after his responding nod, I’m pushed through the back door and into the kitchen, where Christian practically attacks me. His lips are fierce against mine, his hands firm against each side of my face as he pushes me blindly towards the living room.

“We’re not going to make it upstairs,” he says, his words muffled as he doesn’t remove his lips from mine. “After a night like tonight, I need your mouth. I need you to make me come.”

I hum in approval, and he reaches for one of the pillows on the couch to drop on the floor in front of him so I can comfortably settle down on my knees and begin work releasing him from his pants. When my fingers wrap around him, I stroke my hand up and down his length a few times before placing a soft kiss on the tip of his erection.

“Enough teasing, Ana,” he growls. His fingers twist in my hair and he thrusts past my lips, groaning with deep, real pleasure when I’ve enveloped him to the very end of my limit, and the sound sends a shiver of satisfaction through me. I love this, love when he’s taken over by pure, primal need and lust. Love that I’m the only one who can satisfy the overpowering desire driving him. And so, I tighten my lips, suck hard, and enjoy the other gratified sounds he makes while I set to work.

“Yessss, Ana. Fuck, just like that. Just like that.”

I hum and moan as I move my mouth up and down his length, swirl my tongue across his perfectly smooth skin, and use my hand to add more friction or to tug gently on his testicles. A few times, I feel his body shift as a sharp lance of pleasure washes through him and his legs tremble. Soon, the muscles in his abs begin to pull and tighten, his erection stiffens to its full potential in my mouth, and with a loud, harsh groan and a quick, deep thrust, he spills his release into my throat. I push as far forward as I can, pressing my nose into his lower abdomen as I swallow him over and over again, making his whole body shake. When it becomes too much, he reaches down and pulls me off of him, immediately claiming my lips with his and kissing me with deep, burning passion that makes me feel loved and desperately wanted.

His fingers reach for the zipper on the back of my dress as he guides me back towards the stairs. It pools to the floor, followed quickly by my bra, and when I take my first step up onto the stairs, Christian stops me, pulls me tightly against him to kiss me for a long drawn out moment, and then eases me down on the step three above where he’s standing.

“I’ve had mine,” he says. “It’s your turn.” I moan as he kneels down on the bottom step and then pries my knees apart. His fingers slide up my thighs and hook around my panties, and while he slowly eases them down my legs, he never breaks eye contact with me. The connection has me instantly wet.

“Don’t expect these back,” he says as he tucks my panties into his back pocket, but before I can come up with any kind of clever, biting response, he dives in to me and my mind goes completely blank.

“Oh, yes,” I breathe as he begins to lap at my clitoris. My head tilts back and my mouth falls open as I revel in the feel of his expert tongue. There are few things in the world I could compare to the extent of his talent and the way he’s able to make me feel, but if true nirvana is real, I imagine it has to include Christian’s mouth between my legs.

His lips move to join his tongue and as he begins to suckle on me, the pleasure is intensified tenfold and I can’t help myself from reaching into his hair and holding him against me. My hips begin to jerk as I desperately seek the friction I need to reach the point of release, and as his whole mouth begins moving in conjunction with my hips, heat begins to bloom from the point of contact between us and rushes through my blood until my entire body is seized with the pulsing grip of a powerful orgasm.

I scream his name as I fall apart and grip tightly to the stairs, my knuckles turning white as I hang on for dear life. He growls a viscerally satisfied sound as he feels my lower lips convulsing around his tongue, and just as I think I’m going to go too far, that this time he may have actually pushed me past the brink of insanity, his mouth begins to slow. The pressure he exerts into me decreases and soon, it’s only his tongue on me again, moving against me so softly it’s just enough to keep the aftershocks of my orgasm tingling in my limbs without becoming too much to handle.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says when he finally pulls away from me, and while I watch his tongue dart across his lower lip, cleaning away the last of my release that lingers there, I sit up and kiss him hard, thrusting my tongue past his lips and tasting all the traces left of me inside. His tongue tangles with mine while his hands explore my body, palming my breasts and pinching my already hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and when I whimper, he pulls away, stands, and holds his hand out to me.

“Come, I’m not nearly finished with you yet.”

I smile, take his hand, and let him lead me the rest of the way up the stairs to my bedroom. Once we’re inside, he quickly directs me to the bed and begins leaving kisses over every part of my body he can reach.

“You’ve already got me, Christian,” I whine. “I’m ready for you, take me.”

“So impatient,” he says quietly against the skin on my chest. “What happened to building the anticipation?”

I gasp as his teeth sink into the top of my breast, then reach down and grab him by the jaw, forcing him to look up at me.

“I’ve had anticipation, now I want you to fuck me.”

He raises an eyebrow and a devilish grin spreads across his face. “Your wish.”

So quickly that the movement leaves me a little disoriented, he flips me onto my knees and pushes me down onto the bed so that my ass is in the air. His knees knock against mine, silently telling me to spread my legs wider for him, and no sooner than I feel him positioning himself between my legs, he thrusts inside of me. I gasp at the sudden intrusion and then curl my fingers into the sheets, holding myself steady as his quick, harsh thrusts threaten to rocket me right off the bed. He’s rough, single minded in his quest for release, and I’m quick to catch up to his mood. Using my hands, I push back into him, even reach up to use the headboard for leverage. His hands dig into my hips as he pulls me against him with each punishing thrust.

“Harder, Christian. Tighter. Hold me tighter!” He growls and, somehow, increases the ferocity of his cadence, pistoning in and out of me so hard I feel the pleasurable reverberations in my bones. I cry out through my panting breaths that match his, and as I feel sweat from the exertion begin to bead through my skin, he pulls his right hand away from my hip and brings it down hard on my ass.

“Oh, fuck!” I scream. “Oh my god, it’s so good. Again, please!”

He complies, not once but several times over. Each hard slap against me echos through the room and is accompanied by the sound of his low, gravelly grunts, which resonate with something deep inside of me.

“God, your ass looks good,” he growls as he hits me for the fourth time.

“Don’t stop, Christian. Oh god, you’re going to make me… ah, make me…”

“Make you what, baby?”

“You’re going to make me… c-ome.”

“That’s right. What about when I do this?” He moves his hand down around the connection between our bodies and he gathers my arousal with his fingers, coating them until they’re slick, and then drags them up to the entrance of my ass. I feel him swirl the pad of his finger around as he coats me with moisture and then, slowly, his index finger sinks inside of me.

“Fuck!” I cry out as all of the muscles deep inside of me clench and the fiery heat intensifies. He begins to move his finger in and out of me, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, and when his middle finger joins the first, I detonate. My whole body trembles as my orgasm rockets through me, and he never falters in his stride as he works me through it, forcing the pleasure to go on and on until my vision starts to blur.

“Oh my god, Christian!” I pant through the roiling pleasure. “Come with me! Let go!”

“No,” he growls. “I’m not ready to be finished with you yet.” I bite down on my lip as my the largest muscle groups in my body tense and release with each electric shock, and he lets out an almost pained sounding gasp. “Fuck, you’re tight like this. You’re gonna make me…”

“Come for me!” I plead, but after two more harsh thrusts and a defiant growl, he pulls out and sees me the rest of the way through with his free hand.

My body feels so wrung out as I lower myself into the mattress, that I’m not sure I’m going to be able to move. I can’t even form coherent thought, which is fine, because Christian doesn’t seem to be interested in talking. He rolls me over onto my back and begins to devour my lips. I kiss him back with as much passion as I can muster in my completely subdued state, and as our lips and tongues move together, he begins to toy with my breasts again.

“I love how hard I can make you come,” he whispers against my lips, and I smile as I entwine my tongue with his again.

“Me too. And now it’s your turn. How do you want me, baby? Where do you want to come?”

He groans and deepens our kiss for a long beat, taking the time to truly explore my mouth before he finally pulls away and whispers, “In your ass.”

I freeze, and he pulls away, glancing down at me expectantly. His suggestion is unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome. We’ve done this before, and it was good, really good. I’m actually not sure why we haven’t done it since…

“Okay.” I nod, and his face melts with desire. He plants one more deep, soft kiss on my lips before he climbs off of me and out of bed to retrieve the small bottle of lube he keeps in his bedside table for emergencies. I roll over and watch as he pours a dab into his hand and begins to coat his erection with it, an arousing sight that has me aching to reach out and touch him again.

“Now you,” he says. I roll over on my side as he climbs back into bed next to me, and when I feel the warm, slick liquid touch my backside, I moan.

“You don’t have that clit vibe hidden away with the silver balls, do you?”

“No. But we can use your regular vibrator. It’s more cumbersome, but I’m committed.” I laugh, and then gasp as I feel the finger on his left hand slide into me. With his right, he reaches over my body for the drawer in my bedside table, but instead of simply pulling out the silicone pink vibrator that is my usual go-to, he pauses, smiles, and then pulls out the complicated purple monstrosity Kate insisted I buy at a Pure Romance party we went to about a year and a half ago.

“Oh, Anastasia…” he says, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“I’ve never really tried that one…” I admit. “It’s intimidating.”

“Intimidating?”

“It thrusts!”

He raises an eyebrow again and then presses down on the on button. The butterfly on the front, which is meant to stimulate your clitoris during penetration, begins to buzz wildly while all the balls inside twist and rock and the very realistically molded penis begins to move up and down. Christian’s smile widens.

“Oh, I think we can do a lot with this.” He turns the vibrator off but keeps it in hand as he settles down in the bed next to me, and when he removes his finger, he moves his erection up against the entrance of my ass, pausing as he presses up against me.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Slowly, he pushes forward and I tense at first, but relax as his reassuring direction. Inch by inch he sides deeper and deeper until, eventually, he’s buried fully inside of me.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “I forgot how tight your ass was. You’re going to have to be quick, baby.”

“I’m fine,” I whisper in reply. “This is about you.”

“No.” He leans forward, shifting inside of me just enough to make me moan as he leans in to capture my earlobe with his teeth and sucks gently. “This is about us.”

I hear the low sound of vibration as he slowly eases back, and then feel the tip of the vibrator press between my lower lips as he moves forward again. He increases the intensity of the vibration, and as he pulls back out, he eases the vibrator inside of me with the same slow, careful pace.

“Oh my god!” I gasp, burying my face in the pillow as I feel a new sensation of complete fullness start to overwhelm me. He lets out a breathy sort of laugh as he continues to move, and then angles the vibrator so the butterfly is vibrating right against my clit. “Shit!”

“That’s it, baby. Feel this.”

He’s moves in opposition, but in tandem with the vibrator in his hand, pulling the vibrator back every time he thrusts forward, and vise versa, but always keeping the same pace. As I grow accustomed to his length inside of me, he increases his cadence and pace at which he fucks me with the vibrator. It’s absolutely incredible, unlike anything I’ve ever felt, and soon I’m lost in it. His breathing is harsh and broken in my ear as he quickly climbs towards release and it eggs me on, pulls me with him. In a record amount of time, I’ve gone from completely sated, to desperate and needy, to right on the edge of release.

“I’m going to come,” Christian groans. “Are you close?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m alm–alm—”

“Oh, baby!” He tightens his hold on me as he thrusts forward as hard as he can, doing the same with the vibrator when he pulls back, and once again I find myself overtaken by an intense, life affirming orgasm that rattles me to my core. It takes mere seconds after that for Christian to push into me as deeply as he can, and then still. The feel of his release, gives me one last spike of intense pleasure, but as he stops moving and pulls the vibrator from between my legs, the heat begins to dull and leaves us both swimming in a pool of post-orgasm bliss.

“It looks like you have been holding out on me.” I confess, once I catch my breath enough to speak properly.

“That was incredible. Something we’ll definitely have to do again.”

“And again, and again, and again…” I say, but he cuts my words off with a kiss until we hear a loud bang from downstairs.

“That’ll be Sawyer and Taylor,” Christian sighs. “I wonder what they’ll think when they find your clothes on the stairs?”

“I’m fairly certain they know what we’re doing up here. But still, if you plan on keeping them around for the long haul, you may want consider giving them some kind of bonus every time they find evidence of us having sex.”

“I only have a billion dollars, Anastasia,” he replies wryly, and I giggle. When he leans over to kiss me again though, he’s stopped when we hear another noise at the top of the stairs and we realize it isn’t Luke or Taylor.

“Carter, wait,” Kate says. “Slow down.”

“No, you’re mine. I’m going to show you tonight what that means.”

“I’m your– oh fuck! Mmm, Carter.”

“That’s right, feel that? Only I can make you feel that. Because you are mine.”

“Yours,” she repeats.

We hear Kate’s door open and slam closed and Christian looks down at me. “What do you think that was about?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, just some good old fashioned possessive sex. I’m very well versed in such matters.”

He nods, but his frown doesn’t falter. “Well, let’s get cleaned up and back into bed. You’ve got a long day ahead of you tomorrow, you need some rest.”

“Okay.” I pull back the covers and move to get out of bed, but before I even swing my legs over the side of the mattress, Christian wraps his hand around my forearm and pulls me back.

“But first…”

I giggle as he envelops my body and lowers his lips to mine, but the sweet moment of contact ends when we hear the very obvious sounds of Kate and Carter having sex come through the wall.

“And we can’t even be mad because we do it to them all the time,” Christian sighs.

I laugh. “Come on, time to get up.” He nods and then playfully chases me into the bathroom and into the shower, the one place where we can’t hear Kate and Carter and where we’re once again alone.

Just us.

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