To: Anastasia Grey
Are you okay?
Christian Grey
CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.
No, Christian, I’m not. I’m freaking out about you freaking out. I don’t know what to do. But I am not going to tell you via e-mail.
From: Anastasia Grey
Subject: Missing You
Date: September 13, 2011 14:17
To: Christian Grey
Fine. Just busy.
See you at six.
x
Anastasia Grey
Commissioning Editor, SIP
398/551
When will I tell him? Tonight? Maybe after sex? Maybe during sex. No, that might be dangerous for both of us. When he’s asleep? I put my head in my hands.
What the hell am I going to do?
“Hi,” Christian says warily as I climb into the SUV.
“Hi,” I murmur.
“What’s wrong?” He frowns. I shake my head as Taylor sets off toward the hospital.
“Nothing.” Maybe now? I could tell him now when we’re in a contained space and Taylor is with us.
“Is work all right?” Christian continues to probe.
“Yes. Fine. Thanks.”
“Ana, what’s wrong?” His tone is a little more forceful, and I chicken out.
“I’ve just missed you, that’s all. And I’ve been worried about Ray.” Christian visibly relaxes. “Ray’s good. I spoke to Mom this afternoon and she’s impressed with his progress.” Christian grasps my hand. “Boy, your hand is cold. Have you eaten today?”
I blush.
“Ana,” Christian scolds me, annoyed.
Well, I haven’t eaten because I know you’re going to go bat-shit crazy when I tell you I’m pregnant.
“I’ll eat this evening. I haven’t really had time.” He shakes his head in frustration. “Do you want me to add ‘feed my wife’ to the security detail’s list of duties?”
399/551
“I’m sorry. I’ll eat. It’s just been a weird day. You know, moving Dad and all.”
His lips press into a hard line, but he says nothing. I gaze out the window.
Tell him! My subconscious hisses. No. I’m a coward.
Christian interrupts my reverie. “I may have to go to Taiwan.”
“Oh. When?”
“Later this week. Maybe next week.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to come with me.”
I swallow. “Christian, please. I have my job. Let’s not rehash this argument again.”
He sighs and pouts like a sulky teenager. “Thought I’d ask,” he mutters petulantly.
“How long will you go for?”
“Not more than a couple of days. I wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you.” How can he tell? “Well, now that my beloved husband is going away . . .” Christian kisses my knuckles. “I won’t be away for long.”
“Good.” I smile weakly at him.
Ray is much brighter and a lot less grumpy when we see him. I’m touched by his quiet gratitude to Christian, and for a moment I forget about my impending news as I sit and listen to them talk fishing and the Mariners. But he tires easily.
“Daddy, we’ll leave you to sleep.”
“Thanks, Ana honey. I like that you drop by. Saw your mom today, too, Christian. She was very reassuring. And she’s a Mariners fan.”
“She’s not crazy about fishing, though,” Christian says wryly as he rises.
“Don’t know many women who are, eh?” Ray grins.