Fifty Shades Trilogy 02 - Fifty Shades Darker

registers his surprise once more, and he gazes shrewdly at me.
    Holy shit . This is mortifying. I gaze down at my fingers.
    “Would you be more comfortable if Christian left us for a while?”
    My eyes dart to Christian and he’s gazing at me expectantly.
    “Yes,” I whisper.
    Christian frowns and opens his mouth but closes it again quickly and stands in one swift graceful movement.
    “I’ll be in the waiting room,” he says, his mouth a flat, grumpy line.
    Oh no.
    “Thank you, Christian,” Dr. Flynn says impassively.
    Christian gives me one long, searching look then stalks out of the room—but he doesn’t slam the door. Phew. I immediately relax.
    “He intimidates you?”
    “Yes. But not as much as he used to.” I feel disloyal but it’s the truth.
    “That doesn’t surprise me, Ana. What can I help you with?”
    I stare down at my knotted fingers. What can I ask?
    “Dr. Flynn, I’ve never been in a relationship before, and Christian is . . . well, he’s Christian. And over the last week or so, a great deal has happened. I haven’t had a chance to think things through.”
    “What do you need to think through?”
    I glance up at him, and his head is cocked to one side as he gazes at me with compassion, I think.
    “Well . . . Christian tells me that he’s happy to give up . . . er—” I stumble and pause. This is so much more difficult to discuss than I’d imagined.
    Dr. Flynn sighs. “Ana, in the very limited time that you’ve known him, you’ve made more progress with my patient than I have in the last two years. You have had a profound effect on him. You must see that.”
    “He’s had a profound effect on me, too. I just don’t know if I’m enough. To fulfill his needs,” I whisper.
    “Is that what you need from me? Reassurance?”
    I nod.
    “Needs change,” he says simply. “Christian has found himself in a situation where his methods of coping are no longer effective. Very simply, you’ve forced him to confront some of his demons and rethink.”
    I blink at him. This echoes what Christian has told me.
    “Yes, his demons,” I murmur.
    “We don’t dwell on them—they’re in the past. Christian knows what his demons are, as do I—and now I’m sure you do, too. I’m much more concerned with the future and getting Christian to a place where he wants to be.”
    I frown and he raises an eyebrow.
    “The technical term is SFBT—sorry.” He smiles. “That stands for Solution-Focused Brief Therapy. Essentially, it’s goal oriented. We concentrate on where Christian wants to be and how to get him there. It’s a dialectical approach. There’s no point in breast-beating about the past—all that’s been picked over by every physician, psychologist, and psychiatrist Christian’s ever seen. We know why he’s the way he is, but it’s the future that’s important. Where Christian envisages himself, where he wants to be. It took you walking out on him to make him take this form of therapy seriously. He realizes that his goal is a loving relationship with you. It’s that simple, and that’s what we’re working on now. Of course there are obstacles—his haphephobia for one.”
    Oh jeez . . . his what ? I gasp.
    “I’m sorry. I mean his fear of being touched,” Dr. Flynn says, shaking his head as if scolding himself. “Which I’m sure you’re aware of.”
    I flush and nod. Oh that!
    “He has a morbid self-abhorrence. I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you. And of course there’s the parasomnia . . . um—night terrors, sorry, to the layperson.”
    I blink at him, trying to absorb all these long words. I know about all of this. But Flynn hasn’t mentioned my central concern.
    “But he’s a sadist. Surely, as such, he has needs which I can’t fulfill.”
    Dr. Flynn actually rolls his eyes, and his mouth presses into a hard line. “That’s no longer recognized as a psychiatric term. I don’t know how many times I have told him that. It’s not even classified as a paraphilia any more, not since the nineties.”
    Dr. Flynn has lost me again. I blink at him. He smiles kindly at me.
    “This is a pet peeve of mine.” He shakes his head. “Christian just thinks the worst of any given situation. It’s part of his self-abhorrence. Of course, there’s such a thing as sexual sadism, but it’s not a disease; it’s a lifestyle choice. And if it’s practiced in a safe, sane relationship between consenting adults, then it’s a nonissue. My