Fifty Shades Trilogy 03 - Fifty Shades Freed

Heathman.
    “Apart from harassing me at Clayton’s, have you ever actually gone into a store and just bought stuff?”
    “Harassing you?”
    “Yes. Harassing me.”
    “You were flustered, if I recall. And that young boy was all over you. What was his name?”
    “Paul.”
    “One of your many admirers.”
    I roll my eyes, and he smiles a relieved, genuine smile and kisses me.
    “There’s my girl,” he whispers. “Get dressed. I don’t want you getting cold again.”
    “Ready,” I murmur. Christian is working on the Mac in the study area of the suite. He’s dressed in black jeans and a gray cable-knit sweater, and I’m wearing the jeans, the hoodie, and a white T-shirt.
    “You look so young,” Christian says softly, glancing up, his eyes glowing. “And to think you’ll be a whole year older tomorrow.” His voice is wistful. I give him a sad smile.
    “I don’t feel much like celebrating. Can we go see Ray now?”
    “Sure. I wish you’d eat something. You barely touched your food.”
    “Christian, please. I’m just not hungry. Maybe after we’ve seen Ray. I want to wish him goodnight.”
    As we arrive at the ICU, we meet José leaving. He’s alone.
    “Ana, Christian, hi.”
    “Where’s your dad?”
    “He was too tired to come back. He was in a car accident this morning,” José grins ruefully. “And his painkillers have kicked in. He was out for the count. I had to fight to get in to see Ray since I’m not next of kin.”
    “And?” I ask anxiously.
    “He’s good, Ana. Same . . . but all good.”
    Relief floods my system. No news is good news.
    “See you tomorrow, birthday girl?”
    “Sure. We’ll be here.”
    José eyes Christian quickly then pulls me into a brief hug. “ Mañana. ”
    “Goodnight, José.”
    “Good-bye, José,” Christian says. José nods and walks down the corridor. “He’s still nuts about you,” Christian says quietly.
    “No he’s not. And even if he is . . .” I shrug because right now I just don’t care.
    Christian gives me a tight smile, and my heart melts.
    “Well done,” I murmur.
    He frowns.
    “For not frothing at the mouth.”
    He gapes at me, wounded—but amused, too. “I’ve never frothed. Let’s see your dad. I have a surprise for you.”
    “Surprise?” My eyes widen in alarm.
    “Come.” Christian takes my hand, and we push open the double doors of the ICU.
    Standing at the end of Ray’s bed is Grace, deep in discussion with Crowe and a second doctor, a woman I’ve not seen before. Seeing us, Grace grins.
    Oh, thank heavens.
    “Christian.” She kisses his cheek, then turns to me and folds me in her warm embrace.
    “Ana. How are you holding up?”
    “I’m fine. It’s my father I’m worried about.”
    “He’s in good hands. Doctor Sluder is an expert in her field. We trained together at Yale.”
    Oh . . .
    “Mrs. Grey,” Dr. Sluder greets me very formally. She’s short-haired and elfin with a shy smile and a soft southern accent. “As the lead physician for your father, I’m pleased to tell you that all is on track. His vital signs are stable and strong. We have every faith that he’ll make a complete recovery. The brain swelling has stopped, and shows signs of decreasing. This is very encouraging after such a short time.”
    “That’s good news,” I murmur.
    She smiles warmly at me. “It is, Mrs. Grey. We’re taking real good care of him.”
    “Great to see you again, Grace.”
    Grace smiles. “Likewise, Lorraina.”
    “Dr. Crowe, let’s leave these good people to visit with Mr. Steele.” Crowe follows in Dr. Sluder’s wake to the exit.
    I glance over at Ray, and for the first time since his accident, I feel more hopeful. Dr. Sluder and Grace’s kind words have rekindled my hope.
    Grace takes my hand and squeezes gently. “Ana, sweetheart, sit with him. Talk to him. It’s all good. I’ll visit with Christian in the waiting room.”
    I nod. Christian smiles his reassurance, and he and his mother leave me with my beloved father sleeping peacefully to the gentle lullaby of his ventilator and heart monitor.
    I slip Christian’s white T-shirt on and get into bed.
    “You seem brighter,” Christian says cautiously as he pulls on his pajamas.
    “Yes. I think talking to Dr. Sluder and your mom made a big difference. Did you ask Grace to come here?”
    Christian slides into bed and pulls me into his arms, turning me to face away from him.
    “No. She wanted to come and check on your dad