by E. L. James
I stare at her, speechless. How can she tell me what to do? I'm twenty-eight years old, for fuck's sake.
"Mom--"
"No, Christian--I'm serious. If you don't, I will go to the police."
I pale. "You wouldn't."
"I will. I couldn't stop it then, but I can now."
"You're just real mad, Mom, and I don't blame you--but you're overreacting."
"Don't tell me I'm overreacting," she yells. "You are not going to have any kind of relationship with someone who can abuse a troubled, immature child! She should come with a health warning." She's glowering at me.
"Okay." I hold my hands up defensively and she seems to compose herself.
"Does Ana know?"
"Yes, she does."
"Good. You shouldn't start your married life with secrets." She frowns as if she's speaking from personal experience. Vaguely, I wonder what that's about, but she recovers herself.
"I'd be interested to hear what she thinks of Elena."
"She's kind of in your camp."
"Sensible girl. You've fallen on your feet with her, at least. A lovely young woman who's the right age. Someone you can find happiness with."
My expression softens.
Yes. She makes me happier than I ever thought possible.
"You are to end it with Elena. Cut all ties. You understand?"
"Yes, Mom. I could do that as a wedding present to Anastasia."
"What? Are you crazy? You'd better think of something else! That's hardly romantic, Christian," she scolds.
"I thought she'd like that."
"Honestly, men! You have no idea sometimes."
"What do you think I should give her?"
"Oh, Christian." She sighs, then offers me a small wan smile. "You really haven't taken in a word, have you? Do you know why I'm upset?"
"Yes, of course."
"Tell me, then."
I gaze at her and sigh. "I don't know, Mom. Because you didn't know? Because she's your friend?"
She reaches up and gently strokes my hair, like she used to when I was small. The only place she would touch me, because it was the only place I let her.
"For all those reasons and because she abused you, darling. And you are so deserving of love. You're so easy to love. You always have been."
There's a burning sensation at the back of my eyes.
"Mom," I whisper.
She puts her arms around me, calmer now, and I hug her in return.
"You'd better go find your bride-to-be. I'm going to have to tell your father when the party's over. No doubt he'll want to talk to you, too."
"Mom. Please. Do you have to tell him?"
"Yes, Christian, I do. And I hope he gives you hell."
Fuck.
"I'm still mad at you. But madder at her." Her face loses all trace of humor. I'd never realized how scary Grace could be.
"I know," I murmur.
"Go on, off you go. Find your girl." She releases me, steps back, and rubs her fingers under her eyes to wipe away her smudged makeup. She looks beautiful. This wonderful woman, who truly loves me, like I love her.
I take a deep breath. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Mom."
"I know. Go."
I lean down and gently kiss her forehead, surprising her.
I walk out of the room to find Ana.
Shit. That was heavy.
ANA'S NOT IN THE kitchen.
"Hey, bro, want a beer?" Elliot asks.
"In a minute. I'm looking for Ana."
"She come to her senses and run off?"
"Fuck off, Lelliot."
She's not in the sitting room.
She wouldn't leave, would she?
My room? I vault up the first flight of stairs, then up the second. She's standing on the landing. I reach the top step and stop when we are eye to eye.
"Hi."
"Hi," she answers.
"I was worried--"
"I know," she interrupts me. "I'm sorry. I couldn't face the festivities. I just had to get away, you know. To think." She caresses my face and I lean my cheek into her touch.
"And you thought you'd do that in my room?"
"Yes."
Stepping up beside her, I reach out to her and we hold each other. She smells amazing...soothing, even. "I'm sorry you had to endure all that."
"It's not your fault, Christian. Why was she here?"
"She's a family friend."
"Not anymore. How's your mom?"
"Mom is pretty fucking mad at me right now. I'm really glad you're here, and that we're in the middle of a party. Otherwise I might be breathing my last."
"That bad, huh?"
Complete overreaction.
"Can you blame her?" Ana asks.
I consider this for a moment. Her best friend fucking her son.
"No."
"Can we sit?"
"Sure. Here?"
Ana nods and we both sit down at the top of the stairs.
"So, how do you feel?" she asks.
I let out a deep breath.
"I feel liberated." I shrug and it's true. It's like a weight has been lifted. No more worrying about what Elena thinks.
"Really?"
"Our business relationship is over. Done."
"Will you liquidate the salon business?"
"I'm not that vindictive, Anastasia. No. I'll gift them to her. I'll talk to my lawyer Monday. I owe her that much."
She gives me a quizzical look. "No more Mrs. Robinson?"
"Gone."
Ana grins. "I'm sorry you lost a friend."
"Are you?"
"No," she says, sardonically.
"Come." I stand and offer her my hand. "Let's join the party in our honor. I might even get drunk."
"Do you get drunk?"
"Not since I was a wild teenager." We walk down the stairs. "Have you eaten?"
Ana looks guilty. "No."
"Well, you should. From the look and smell of Elena, that was one of my father's lethal cocktails you threw on her."
"Christian, I--"
I hold up my hand. "No arguing, Anastasia. If you're going to drink and toss alcohol on my exes, you need to eat. It's rule number one. I believe we've already had that discussion after our first night together."
An image of her lying comatose on my bed at The Heathman comes to mind. We stop in the hallway and I caress her face, my fingers skimming her jaw. "I lay awake for hours and watched you sleep," I whisper. "I might have loved you even then." Leaning down I kiss her, and she melts against me.
"Eat." I motion toward the kitchen.
"Okay," she says.
I CLOSE THE DOOR, having bid farewell to Dr. Flynn and his wife.
Finally. I can be alone with Ana. It's just the family left. Grace has had too much to drink and is in the den, murdering "I Will Survive" on the Karaoke machine with Mia and Katherine.
"Do you blame her?" Ana asks.
I narrow my eyes. "Are you smirking at me, Miss Steele?"
"I am."
"It's been quite a day."
"Christian, recently, every day with you has been quite a day."
"Fair point well made, Miss Steele. Come. I want to show you something." I lead her through the hall into the kitchen.
Carrick, Elliot, and Ethan Kavanagh are arguing about the Mariners.
"Off for a stroll?" Elliot taunts us as we head to the French doors, but I give him the finger and otherwise ignore him.
Outside, it's a mild night. I usher Ana up the stone steps to the lawn, where she takes off her shoes and pauses for a moment to admire the view. The half-moon is high above the bay, illuminating a bright silvery path across the water. Seattle is lit up and twinkling as a backdrop.
We walk, hand in hand, toward the boathouse. It's lit inside and out and the beckoning light is our guide.
"Christian, I'd like to go to church tomorrow," Ana says.
"Oh?"
When was the last time I was in church? I recall her background inf
ormation; I don't remember her being religious.
"I prayed you'd come back alive and you did. It's the least I could do."
"Okay." Maybe I'll go with her.
"Where are you going to put the photos Jose took of me?"
"I thought we might put them in the new house."
"You bought it?"
I stop. "Yes. I thought you liked it."
"I do. When did you buy it?"
"Yesterday morning. Now we need to decide what to do with it."
"Don't knock it down. Please. It's such a lovely house. It just needs some tender loving care."
"Okay. I'll talk to Elliot. He knows a good architect; she did some work on my place in Aspen. He can do the remodeling."
Ana smiles, then chuckles with amusement.
"What?" I ask.
"I remember the last time you took me to the boathouse."
Oh yes. I was in the moment. "Oh, that was fun. In fact--" I stop and scoop her up over my shoulder and she squeals.
"You were really angry, if I remember correctly," Ana observes while she bounces on my shoulder.
"Anastasia, I'm always really angry."
"No, you're not."
I swat her behind and slide her down my body when I get to the door of the boathouse. I take her head in my hands. "No, not anymore." My lips and tongue find hers and I pour all the anxiety that I'm feeling into a passionate kiss. She's breathless and panting when I release her.
Okay. I hope she likes what I have planned. I hope it's what she wants. She deserves the world. She looks a little intrigued and caresses my face, running her fingers along my cheek, to my jaw and chin. Her index finger pauses over my lips.
Showtime, Grey.
"I've something to show you in here." I open the door. "Come." I take her hand and lead her to the top of the stairs. Opening the door, I glance inside, and it all looks good. I step aside to let Ana go first, and I follow her into the room.
She gasps at the sight that greets her.
The florists have gone to town. There are wild meadow flowers everywhere, in pinks and whites and blues, all lit by tiny fairy lights and soft pink lanterns.
Yes. This will do.
Ana is stunned. She whips around and gapes at me.
"You wanted hearts and flowers."
She stares at me in disbelief.
"You have my heart." And I wave at the room.
"And here are the flowers," she murmurs. "Christian, it's lovely." Her voice is hoarse and I know she's close to tears.
Plucking up my courage, I lead her farther into the room. In the center of the arbor, I sink onto one knee. Ana catches her breath, and her hands fly to her mouth. From my inside jacket pocket, I pull out the ring and hold it up for her.
"Anastasia Steele. I love you. I want to love, cherish, and protect you for the rest of my life. Be mine. Always. Share my life with me. Marry me."
She is the love of my life.
It will only ever be Ana.
Her tears start to fall in earnest but her smile eclipses the moon, the stars, the sun, and all the flowers in this boathouse.
"Yes," she says.
Taking her hand, I slip the ring on her finger; it fits perfectly.
She looks down at it in wonder. "Oh, Christian," she sobs, her legs buckle and she falls into my arms. She kisses me, offering me everything, her lips, her tongue, her compassion, her love. Her body is pressed to mine. Giving, like she always does.
Sweet, sweet Ana.
I kiss her back. Taking what she has to offer, and giving in return. She's taught me how.
This woman who has dragged me into the light. This woman who loves me in spite of my past, in spite of my wrongdoings. This woman who's agreed to be mine for the rest of her life.
My girl. My Ana. My love.
E L James
Darker
* * *
After twenty-five years working in TV, E L James decided to pursue her childhood dream, and set out to write stories that readers would fall in love with. The result was the sensuous romance Fifty Shades of Grey and its two sequels, Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed, a trilogy that went on to sell more than 150 million copies worldwide in 52 languages. In 2015 she published the best seller Grey, the story of Fifty Shades of Grey from the perspective of Christian Grey.
In 2012, E L James was named one of Time magazine's "Most Influential People in the World," one of Barbara Walters's "Ten Most Fascinating People of the Year," and Publishers Weekly's "Person of the Year." She went on to work as a producer on the film adaptations of her trilogy for Universal Pictures; Fifty Shades of Grey, the film, broke box-office records all over the world in 2015. Its 2017 sequel, Fifty Shades Darker, proved equally popular with fans of Ana and Christian's story, and the concluding film, Fifty Shades Freed, will be released in 2018.
E L James lives with her husband, the novelist and screenwriter Niall Leonard, their two sons, and their two dogs in West London, where she is working on new novels and movie projects.
The Fifty Shades Trilogy is available in paperback, eBook, Spanish-language, and audio formats and in deluxe hardcover editions.
Available wherever books are sold.
ELJamesAuthor @E_L_James VintageBooks.com
