Fifty Shades Trilogy 03 - Fifty Shades Freed

wasn’t in a fit state. But through my submission to her, I found myself and found the strength to take charge of my life  . . . take control and make my own decisions.”
    “Become a Dom?”
    “Yes.”
    “Your decision?”
    “Yes.”
    “Dropping out of Harvard?”
    “My decision, and it was the best decision I ever made. Until I met you.”
    “Me?”
    “Yes.” His lips quirk up in a soft smile. “The best decision I ever made was marrying you.”
    Oh my. “Not starting your company?”
    He shakes his head.
    “Not learning to fly?”
    He shakes his head. “You,” he mouths. He caresses my cheek with his knuckles. “She knew,” he whispers.
    I frown. “She knew what?”
    “That I was head over heels in love with you. She encouraged me to go down to Georgia to see you, and I’m glad she did. She thought you’d freak out and leave. Which you did.”
    I pale. I’d rather not think about that.
    “She thought I needed all the trappings of the lifestyle I enjoyed.”
    “The Dom?” I whisper.
    He nods. “It enabled me to keep everyone at arm’s length, gave me control, and kept me detached, or so I thought. I’m sure you’ve worked out why,” he adds softly.
    “Your birth mom?”
    “I didn’t want to be hurt again. And then you left me.” His words are barely audible. “And I was a mess.”
    Oh, no.
    “I’ve avoided intimacy for so long—I don’t know how to do this.”
    “You’re doing fine,” I murmur. I trace his lips with my index finger. He purses them into a kiss. You’re talking to me.
    “Do you miss it?” I whisper.
    “Miss it?”
    “That lifestyle.”
    “Yes, I do.”
    Oh!
    “But only insofar as I miss the control it brings. And frankly, your stupid stunt”—he stops—“that saved my sister,” he whispers, his words full of relief, awe, and disbelief. “That’s how I know.”
    “Know?”
    “Really know that you love me.”
    I frown. “You do?”
    “Yes. Because you risked so much . . . for me, for my family.”
    My frown deepens. He reaches over and traces his finger over the middle of my brow above my nose.
    “You have a V here when you frown,” he murmurs. “It’s very soft to kiss. I can behave so badly . . . and yet you’re still here.”
    “Why are you surprised I’m still here? I told you I wasn’t going to leave you.”
    “Because of the way that I behaved when you told me you were pregnant.” He runs his finger down my cheek. “You were right. I am an adolescent.”
    Oh shit . . . I did say that. My subconscious glares at me. His doctor said that!
    “Christian, I said some awful things.” He puts his index finger over my lips.
    “Hush. I deserved to hear them. Besides this is my bedtime story.” He rolls onto his back again.
    “When you told me you were pregnant—” He stops. “I’d thought it would be just you and me for a while. I’d considered children, but only in the abstract. I had this vague idea we’d have a child sometime in the future.”
    Just one? No . . . Not an only child. Not like me. Perhaps now’s not the best time to bring that up.
    “You are still so young, and I know you’re quietly ambitious.”
    Ambitious? Me?
    “Well, you pulled the rug from under me. Christ, was that unexpected. Never in a million years, when I asked you what was wrong, did I expect you to be pregnant.” He sighs. “I was so mad. Mad at you. Mad at myself. Mad at everyone. And it took me back, that feeling of nothing being in my control. I had to get out. I went to see Flynn, but he was at some school parents’ evening.” Christian pauses and arches an eyebrow.
    “Ironic,” I whisper. Christian smirks in agreement.
    “So I walked and walked and walked, and I just . . . found myself at the salon. Elena was leaving. She was surprised to see me. And, truth be told, I was surprised to find myself there. She could tell I was mad and asked me if I wanted a drink.”
    Oh shit. We’ve cut to the chase. My heart doubles in speed. Do I really want to know this? My subconscious glares at me, a plucked eyebrow raised in warning.
    “We went to a quiet bar I know and had a bottle of wine. She apologized for the way she behaved the last time she saw us. She’s hurt that my mom will have nothing to do with her any more—it’s narrowed her social circle—but she understands. We talked about the business, which is doing fine, in spite of the recession . . . I mentioned that you wanted kids.”
    I frown. “I thought