Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 215

It’s not like that! “I am not going to see her again. She finally understands how I feel.” Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.

Elena saw me recoil. She knows I don’t want her.

“What does that mean?”

If I tell her Elena made a pass at me, Ana will go into meltdown.

Shit. Why the fuck did you go to see her, Grey?

I gaze at my furious, beautiful wife. What can I say?

“Why can you talk to her and not to me?” Ana whispers.

No. It’s not like that. You don’t understand. She was my only friend.

“I was mad at you. Like I am now.” The words come in a desperate rush.

“You don’t say,” Ana shouts. “Well, I am mad at you right now. Mad at you for being so cold and callous

yesterday, when I needed you. Mad at you for saying I got knocked up deliberately when I didn’t. Mad

at you for betraying me.”

I didn’t!

“I should have kept better track of my shots,” she continues, quieter. “But I didn’t do it on purpose. This

pregnancy is a shock to me, too. It could be that the shot failed.”

You’re shocked! I’m shocked, too.

We’re not ready for a baby.

I’m not ready for a baby.

“You really fucked up yesterday,” she whispers. “I’ve had a lot to deal with over the last few weeks.”

I fucked up? What about you? Cornered again, I lash out. “You really fucked up three weeks ago. Or

whenever you forgot your shot.”

“Well, God forbid I should be perfect like you.”

Touché, Anastasia. “This is quite a performance, Mrs. Grey.”

“Well, I’m glad that even knocked up I’m entertaining.”

Fuck this! “I need a shower,” I grit between my teeth.

“And I’ve provided enough of a floor show.”

“It’s a mighty fine floor show,” I whisper, stepping forward. One more try. She steps back. No dice.

“Don’t.”

“I hate that you won’t let me touch you.”

“Ironic, huh?”

I gasp as her words slice through me. Who knew she could be such a…bitch? My sweet Ana, hurt and

aching, unleashing her claws. Is this what I’ve driven her to?

This is getting us nowhere.

“We haven’t resolved much, have we?” My voice is bleak and flat. I don’t know what else to say; I have

failed to turn her around.

“I’d say not. Except that I’m moving out of this bedroom.”

So…she’s not leaving me. I grasp on to this hope as I hang over the abyss.

One more pitch, Grey. This is your marriage.

“She doesn’t mean anything to me,” I whisper. Not like you do.

“Except when you need her.”

“I don’t need her. I need you.”

“You didn’t yesterday. That woman is a hard limit for me, Christian.”

“She’s out of my life.”

“I wish I could believe you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ana.”

“Please let me get dressed.”

Sighing, I run my hand through my hair. What can I do? She won’t let me touch her. She’s too mad. I

have to regroup and come up with a different strategy. And right now, I need to put some distance

between us, before I do something I’ll regret. “I’ll see you this evening.” I storm out and into the

bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Like her, I lock it, for the first time ever, protecting myself. Ana

has the power to wound me like no other. Standing against the door, I tip my head back and close my

eyes.

I have really fucked up. The last time I really fucked up she left me.

“You don’t want me?”

“I’m still here, aren’t I?”

I clutch on to that hope. Right now I need a shower to wash last night’s stink off me.

The water is blistering, the way I like it. I tilt my face into the stream, welcoming its stinging heat as it

douses me.

Christ, I’m confused. Nothing is simple where Ana is concerned; I should know that by now. She’s mad

because I shouted at her and left, and she’s mad because I saw Elena.

That woman is a hard limit for me, Christian.

Elena has been a thorn in Ana’s side from the beginning. And now, because of that careless fucking

text, she’s a thorn in mine. Last night should have put an end to it. All of it. But she had to send that

text.

Elena’s words haunt me. Maybe I could make you feel better? I’m sure you miss it.

I shudder at the memory.

Shit, what a mess.

When I emerge from the bathroom, Ana’s gone. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.

Disappointed.

With a heavy heart, I dress, choosing my favorite tie as a talisman for the day. It’s brought me luck

before.

In the kitchen, Mrs. Jones is still emitting glacial disapproval. It’s irritating and chastening at the same

time. However, she’s prepared a substantial fried breakfast for me.

“Thank you,” I mutter. Her only reply is a tight smile. I suspect she heard Ana and me fighting last night.

Grey, you were shouting.

Everyone heard you.

Shit.

I stare out of the car window as Taylor drives through the morning rush-hour traffic. Ana didn’t even say

good-bye; she just fucking left, with Sawyer. “Taylor, tell Sawyer I want him to stick to Mrs. Grey like

glue. I need to know if she’s eating.”

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