chaptereighteen

istir,openingmyeyestoabrightseptembermorning.warmand

comfortablebetweenclean,crispsheets,itakeamomenttoorientate

myself,andamoverwhelmedbyasenseofdéjavu.ofcourse—i’matthe

heathman.

“shit!daddy!”igaspoutloud,recallingwithagut-wrenchingsurgeof

apprehensionthattwistsmyheartandstartsitpoundingwhyi'minportland.

“hey.”christianissittingontheedgeofthebed.hestrokesmycheekwith

hisknuckles,instantlycalmingme.“icalledtheicuthismorning.rayhada

goodnight.it’sallgood,”hesaysreassuringly.

“oh,good.thankyou,”imutter,sittingup.

hebendsandkissesmyforehead.“goodmorning,ana,”hewhispersand

kissesmytemple.

“hi,”imutter.he’supanddressedinablackt-shirtandbluejeans.

“hi,”hereplies,hiseyessoftandwarm.“iwanttowishyouhappybirthday.is

thatokay?”

iofferhimatentativesmileandcaresshischeek.“yes,ofcourse.thankyou.

foreverything.”

hisbrowfurrows.“everything?”

“everything.”

helooksmomentarilyconfused,butit’sfleetingandhiseyeswidenwith

anticipation.“here.”hehandsmeasmall,exquisitelywrappedboxwitha

tinygiftcard.

inspiteoftheworryifeelaboutmyfather,isensechristian’sanxietyand

excitement,andit’sinfectious.ireadthecard.forallourfirstsonyourfirst

birthdayasmybelovedwife.iloveyou.

cx

345|page

fiftyshadesfreed

ohmy,howsweetisthat?“iloveyou,too,”imurmur,smilingathim.

hegrins.“openit.”

unwrappingthepapercarefullysoitdoesn’ttear,ifindabeautifulredleather

box.cartier.it’sfamiliar,thankstomysecond-chanceearringsandmy

watch.cautiously,iopentheboxtodiscoveradelicatecharmbraceletof

silver,orplatinumorwhitegold—idon’tknow,butit’sabsolutelyenchanting.

attachedtoitareseveralcharms:theeiffeltower,alondonblackcab,a

helicopter—charlietango,aglider—thesoaring,acatamaran—the

grace,abed,andanicecreamcone?ilookupathim,bemused.

“vanilla?”heshrugsapologetically,andican’thelpbutlaugh.ofcourse.

“christian,thisisbeautiful.thankyou.it’syar.”

hegrins.myfa一voriteistheheart.it’salocket.“youcanputapictureor

whateverinthat.”

“apictureofyou.”iglanceathimthroughmylashes.“alwaysinmyheart.”

hesmileshislovely,heart-aching,shysmile.

ifondlethelasttwocharms:aletterc—ohyes,iwashisfirstgirlfriendor

whatevertousehisgivenname.ismileatthethought.andfinally,there’sa

key.

“tomyheartandsoul,”hewhispers.

tearsprickmyeyes.ilaunchmyselfathim,curlingmyarmsaroundhisneck

andsettlingintohislap.“it’ssuchathoughtfulpresent.iloveit.thankyou,”i

murmuragainsthisear.oh,hesmellssogood—clean,offreshlinen,and

bodywashandchristian.likehome,myhome.mythreatenedtearsbeginto

fall.

hegroanssoftlyandenfoldsmeinhisembrace.

“idon’tknowwhati’ddowithoutyou.”myvoicecracksasitrytoholdback

theoverwhelmingswellofemotion.

heswallowshard,andtightenshisholdonme.“pleasedon’tcry.”

isniffinaratherunladylikeway.“i’msorry.i’mjustsohappyandsadand

anxiousatthesametime.it’sbittersweet.”

“hey.”hisvoiceisfeathersoft.tippingmyheadback,heplantsagentle

kissonmylips.“iunderstand.”

“iknow,”iwhisper,andi’mrewardedwithhisshysmileagain.

346|page

eljames

“iwishwewereinhappiercircumstancesandathome.butwe’rehere.”he

shrugsapologeticallyoncemore.“come,upyougo.afterbreakfast,we’ll

checkonray.”hekissesmegentlyoncemore,releasesme,andstandsup.

oncedressedinmynewjeansandt-shirt,myappetitemakesabriefbut

welcomereturnduringbreakfastinoursuite.iknowchristianispleasedto

seemeeatingmygranolaandgreekyogurt.

“thankyoufororderingmyfa一voritebreakfast.”

“it’syourbirthday,”christiansayssoftly.“andyouha一vetostopthankingme.”

herollshiseyesinexasperation,butfondly,ithink.

“ijustwantyoutoknowthatiappreciateit.”

“anastasia,it’swhatido.”hiseyesarewideandserious—ofcourse,

christianincommandandcontrol.howcouldiforget...andwouldiwant

himanyotherway?

ismileathim.“yes,itis.”

hegivesmeapuzzledlookthenshakeshishead.“shallwego?”

“i’lljustbrushmyteeth.”

hesmirks.“okay.”

whyishesmirking?thethoughtnagsmeasiheadintotheensuite.a

memoryspringsunbiddentomymind.iusedhistoothbrushafterifirstspent

thenightwithhim.ismirkintothemirrorandgrabhistoothbrushinhomage

tothatfirsttime.gazingatmyselfasibrushmyteeth,i’mpale,toopale.but

theni’malwayspale...lasttimeiwashereiwassingle...andnowi’m

marriedandtwenty-two!i’mgettingold.irinseoutmymouth.holdingupmy

wristishakeit,andthecharmsonmybraceletgiveasatisfyingrattle.how

doesmysweetfiftyalwaysknowexactlytherightthingtogiveme?itakea

deepbreath,attemptingtostemtheemotionstilllurkinginmysystem,and

gazedownatthebraceletoncemore.ibetitcostafortune...ahwell.he

canaffordit.

aswewalktotheelevators,christiantakesmyhandandkissesmy

knuckles,histhumbbrushingovercharlietangoonmybracelet.“youlike?”

“morethanlike.iloveit.verymuch.likeyou.”

hesmilesandkissesmyknucklesoncemore.ifeellighterthani347|pag

e

fiftyshadesfreed

didyesterday.perhapsbecauseit’smorningandtheworldalwaysseemsa

morehopefulplacethanitdoesinthedeadofnight.ormaybeit’smy

husband’ssweetwake-up.ormaybeit’sknowingthatrayisnoworse.

aswestepintotheemptyelevator,iglanceupatchristian.hiseyesflicker

quicklydowntomine,andhesmirksagain.

“don’t,”hewhispersasthedoorsshut.

“don’twhat?”

“lookatmelikethat.”

“fuckthepaperwork,”imutter,grinning.helaughs,andit’ssuchacarefree,

boyishsound.hetugsmeintohisarmsandtiltsmyheadup.

“someday,i’llrentthiselevatorforawholeafternoon.”

“justtheafternoon?”iarchmybrow.

“mrs.grey,youaregreedy.”

“whenitcomestoyou,iam.”

“i’mverygladtohearit.”hekissesmegently,achastekiss.andidon’tknow

ifit’sbecauseweareinthiselevatororbecausehe’snottouchedmeinover

twenty-fourhoursorifhe’sjustmyintoxicatinghusband,butdesireunwinds

andstretcheslazilydeepinmybelly.irunmyfingersintohishairanddeepen

thekiss,pushinghimagainstthewallandbringingmybodyflushagainsthis.

hegroansintomymouthandcupsmyhead,cradlingmeaswekiss—really

kiss,ourtonguesexploringtheoh-so-familiarbutstillohso-new,oh-soexciting

territorythatistheother’smouth.myinnergoddessswoons,

bringingmylibidobackfrompurdah.icaresshisdear,dearfaceinmy

hands.

“ana,”hebreathes.

“iloveyou,christiangrey.don’tforgetthat,”iwhisperasigazeinto

darkeninggrayeyes.

theelevatorcomessmoothlytoahaltandthedoorsopen.

“let’sgoandseeyourfatherbeforeidecidetorentthistoday.”hekisses

mequickly,takesmyhand,andleadsmeintothelobby.aswewalkpastthe

concierge,christiangivesadiscreetsignaltothekindlymiddle-agedman

standingbehindthedesk.henodsandpicksuphisphone.iglance

questioninglyatchristian,andhegivesmehissecretsmile.ohno...

what’sthis?ifrownathim,andforamomenthelooksnervous.

348|page

eljames

“where’staylor?”iask.

“we’llseehimshortly.”

ofcourse,he’sprobablyfetchingthecar.“sawyer?”

“runningerrands.”

whaterrands?

christiana一voidstherevolvingdoor,andiknowit’ssohedoesn’tha一veto

releasemyhand.thethoughtwarmsme.outsideit’samildlate-summer

morning,butthescentofthecomingfallisinthebreeze.iglancearound,

lookingfortheaudisuvandtaylor.nosign.christian’shandtightens

aroundmine,andilookupathim.heseemsanxious.

“whatisit?”

heshrugs.thehumofanapproachingcarenginedistractsme.it’sthroaty..

.familiar.asiturntofindthesourceofthenoise,itstopssuddenly.tayloris

climbingoutofasleekwhitesportscarparkedinfrontofus.what?

ohshit!it’sanr8.iwhipmyheadbacktochristian,who’swatchingme

warily.“youcanbuymeoneformybirthday...awhiteone,ithink.”

“happybirthday,”hesays,andiknowhe’sgaugingmyreaction.igapeat

himbecausethat’sallicando.heholdsoutakey.

“youarecompletelyoverthetop,”iwhisper.he’sboughtmeafuckingaudi

r8!holyshit.justlikeiasked!myfacesplitsinahugegrin,andmyinner

goddessdoesabackflipoffthehighpe.ijumpupanddownonthespotin

amomentofunguardedandunbridledoverexcitement.christian’s

expressionmirrorsmine,andidanceforwardintohiswaitingarms.he

swingsmearound.

“youha一vemoremoneythansense!”iwhoop.“iloveit!thankyou.”hestops

anddipsmelowsuddenly,startlingme,sothatiha一vetograsphisupper

arms.

“anythingforyou,mrs.grey.”hegrinsdownatme.ohmy.whatavery

publicdisplayofaffection.hebendsandkissesme.“come.let’sgosee

yourdad.”

“yes.andigettodrive?”

hegrinsdownatme.“ofcourse.it’syours.”hestandsmeupandreleases

me,andihurryaroundtothedriver’sdoor.tayloropensitforme,smiling

broadly.“happybirthday,mrs.349|page

fiftyshadesfreed

grey.”

“thankyou,taylor.”istartlehimbygivinghimaswifthug,whichhereturns

awkwardly.he’sstillblushingwheniclimbintothecar,andheclosesthe

doorpromptlyoncei’minside.

“drivesafe,mrs.grey,”hesaysgruffly.ibeamupathim,barelyableto

containmyexcitement.

“willdo.”ipromise,puttingthekeyintheignitionaschristianstretchesout

besideme.

“takeiteasy.nobodychasingusnow,”hewarns.wheniturnthekey,the

enginethunderstolife.ichecktherearviewandsidemirrors,andspottinga

raremomentofcleartraffic,executeahugeperfectuturnandroaroffinthe

directionofoshu.

“whoa!”christianexclaims,alarmed.

“what?”

“idon’twantyouintheicubesideyourfather.slowdown,”hegrowls,notto

bearguedwith.ieaseofftheacceleratorandgrinathim.

“better?”

“much,”hemutters,tryinghardtolookstern—andfailingmiserably.

ray’sconditionisthesame.seeinghimgroundsmeaftertheheadyroad

triphere.ireallyshoulddrivemorecarefully.youcan’tlegislateforevery

drunkdriverinthisworld.imustaskchristianwhat’sbecomeoftheasshole

whohitray—i’msureheknows.inspiteofthetubes,myfatherlooks

comfortable,andithinkhehasalittlemorecolorinhischeeks.whileisit

besidemydadandtellhimaboutmymorning,christianwandersofftothe

waitingroomtomakephonecalls.

nursekelliehoversoverhim,checkinghislinesandmakingnotesonhis

chart.“allhissignsaregood,mrs.grey.”shesmileskindlyatme.

“that’sveryencouraging.”

alittlelaterdr.croweappearswithtwonursingassistants.

“mrs.grey,”hegreetsmewarmly.“timetotakeyourfatheruptoradiology.

we’regivinghimactscan.toseehowhisbrainisdoing.”

“willyoubelong?”

350|page

eljames

“uptoanhour.”

“i’llwait.i’dliketoknow.”

“surething,mrs.grey.”

iwanderintothethankfullyemptywaitingroomwherechristianistalkingon

thephone,pacing.ashespeaks,hegazesoutofthewindowatthe

panoramicviewofportland.heturnstomewhenishutthedoor,andhe

looksangry.

“howfarabovethelimit?...isee...allcharges,everything.ana’sfatheris

intheicu—iwantyoutothrowthefuckingbookathim,dad...good.keep

meinformed.”hehangsup.

“theotherdriver?”

henods.“somedrunkentrailertrashfromsoutheastportland.”hesneers,

andi’mshockedbyhisterminologyandhisderisorytone.hewalksoverto

me,andhistonesoftens.

“finishedwithray?doyouwanttogo?”

“um...no.”ipeerupathim,stillreelingathisdisplayofcontempt.

“what’swrong?”

“nothing.ray’sbeingtakentoradiologyforactscantochecktheswelling

inhisbrain.i’dliketowaitfortheresults.”

“okay.we’llwait.”hesitsdownandholdsouthishands.aswe’realone,igo

willinglyandcurlupinhislap.

“thisisnothowienvisagedspendingtoday,”christianmurmursintomyhair.

“meneither,buti’mfeelingmorepositivenow.yourmomwasvery

reassuring.itwaskindofhertocomelastnight.”

christianstrokesmybacksoothingly,restinghischinonmyhead.

“mymomisanamazingwoman.”

“sheis.you’reveryluckytoha一veher.”

christiannods.

“ishouldcallmymom.tellheraboutray,”imurmurandchristianstiffens.

“i’msurprisedshehasn’tcalledme.”iaddinamomentofrealization.infact,i

feelhurt.it’smybirthdayafterall,andshewastherewheniwasborn.why

hasn’tshecalled?

“maybeshedid,”christiansays.ifishmyblackberryoutofmypocket.it

showsnomissedcalls,butquiteafewtexts:happybirthdaysfromkate,

josé,mia,andethan.nothingfrommymother.ishakemy351|page

fiftyshadesfreed

headdespondently.

“callhernow,”hesayssoftly.ido,butthere’snoreply,justtheanswering

machine.idon’tlea一veamessage.howcanmyownmotherforgetmy

birthday?

“she’snotthere.i’llcalllaterwheniknowtheresultsofthebrainscan.”

christiantightenshisarmsaroundme,nuzzlingmyhaironcemore,and

wiselymakesnocommentonmymother’slackofmaternalconcern.ifeel

ratherthanhearthebuzzofhisblackberry.hedoesn’tletmestandupbut

fishesitawkwardlyoutofhispocket.

“andrea,”hesnaps,businesslikeagain.imakeanothermovetostandand

hestopsme,frowningandholdingmetightlyaroundmywaist.inestleback

againsthischestandlistentotheone-sidedconversation.

“good...etaiswhattime?...andtheother,um...packages?”

christianglancesathiswatch.“doestheheathmanha一veallthedetails?...

good...yes.itcanholduntilmondaymorning,butemailjustincase—i’ll

print,sign,andscanitbacktoyou...theycanwait.gohome,andrea...

no,we’regood,thankyou.”hehangsup.

“everythingokay?”

“yes.”

“isthisyourtaiwanthing?”

“yes.”heshiftsbeneathme.

“amitoohea一vy?”

hesnorts.“no,baby.”

“areyouworriedaboutthetaiwanthing?”

“no.”

“ithoughtitwasimportant.”

“itis.theshipyardheredependsonit.therearelotsofjobsatstake.”

oh!

“wejustha一vetosellittotheunions.that’ssamandros’sjob.buttheway

theeconomy’sheading,noneofusha一vealotofchoice.”

iyawn.

“amiboringyou,mrs.grey?”henuzzlesmyhairagain,amused.

“no!never...i’mjustverycomfortableonyourlap.ilikehearingaboutyour

business.”

352|page

eljames

“youdo?”hesoundssurprised.

“ofcourse.”ileanbacktogazedirectlyathim.“ilikehearinganybitof

informationyoudeigntosharewithme.”ismirk,andheregardsmewith

amusementandshakeshishead.

“alwayshungryformoreinformation,mrs.grey.”

“tellme.”iurgehimasisnuggleupagainsthischestagain.

“tellyouwhat?”

“whyyoudoit.”

“dowhat?”

“workthewayyoudo.”

“aguy’sgottoearnaliving.”he’samused.

“christian,youearnmorethanaliving.”myvoiceisfullofirony.hefrowns

andisquietforamoment.ithinkhe’snotgoingtopulgeanysecrets,buthe

surprisesme.

“idon’twanttobepoor,”hesays,hisvoicelow.“i’vedonethat.i’mnotgoing

backthereagain.besides...it’sagame,”hemurmurs.

“it’saboutwinning.agamei’vealwaysfoundveryeasy.”

“unlikelife,”imurmurtomyself.thenirealizeisaidthewordsoutloud.

“yes,isuppose.”hefrowns.“thoughit’seasierwithyou.”

easierwithme?ihughimtightly.“itcan’tallbeagame..you’revery

philanthropic.”

heshrugs,andiknowhe’sgrowinguncomfortable.“aboutsomethings,

maybe,”hesaysquietly.

“ilovephilanthropicchristian,”imurmur.

“justhim?”

“oh,ilovemegalomaniacchristian,too,andcontrol-freakchristian,

sexpertisechristian,kinkychristian,romanticchristian,shychristian...the

listisendless.”