Fifty Shades Trilogy 03 - Fifty Shades Freed

you let her know I was pregnant.”
    He regards me, his face guileless. “No, I didn’t.”
    “Why didn’t you tell me that?”
    He shrugs. “I never got the chance.”
    “Yes, you did.”
    “I couldn’t find you the next morning, Ana. And when I did, you were so mad at me . . .”
    Oh, yes. “I was.”
    “Anyway, at some point in the evening—about halfway through the second bottle—she leaned over to touch me. And I froze,” he whispers, throwing his arm over his eyes.
    My scalp tingles. What’s this?
    “She saw that I recoiled from her. It shocked both of us.” His voice is low, too low.
    Christian look at me! I tug at his arm and he lowers it, turning to gaze into my eyes. Shit. His face is pale, his eyes wide.
    “What?” I breathe.
    He frowns, and swallows.
    Oh . . . what isn’t he telling me? Do I want to know?
    “She made a pass at me.” He’s shocked, I can tell.
    All the breath is sucked from my body. I feel winded, and I think my heart has stopped. That fucking bitch troll!
    “It was a moment, suspended in time. She saw my expression, and she realized how far she’d crossed the line. I said . . . no. I haven’t thought of her like that for years, and besides”—he swallows—“I love you. I told her, I love my wife.”
    I gaze at him. I don’t know what to say.
    “She backed right off. Apologized again, made it seem like a joke. I mean, she said she’s happy with Isaac and with the business and she doesn’t bear either of us any ill will. She said she missed my friendship, but she could see that my life was with you now. And how awkward that was, given what happened last time we were all in the same room. I couldn’t have agreed with her more. We said our good-byes—our final good-byes. I said I wouldn’t see her again, and she went on her way.”
    I swallow, fear gripping my heart. “Did you kiss?”
    “No!” he snorts. “I couldn’t bear to be that close to her.”
    Oh. Good.
    “I was miserable. I wanted to come home to you. But . . . I knew I’d behaved badly. I stayed and finished the bottle, then started on the bourbon. While I was drinking, I remember you saying to me some time ago, ‘If that was my son . . .’ And I got to thinking about Junior and about how Elena and I started. And it made me feel . . . uncomfortable. I’d never thought of it like that before.”
    A memory blossoms in my mind—a whispered conversation from when I was half conscious—Christian’s voice: “But seeing her finally put it all in perspective for me. You know . . . with the child. For the first time I felt . . . What we did . . . it was wrong.” He’d been speaking to Grace.
    “That’s it?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “Oh.”
    “Oh?”
    “It’s over?”
    “Yes. It’s been over since I laid eyes on you. I finally realized it that night and so did she.”
    “I’m sorry,” I mutter.
    He frowns. “What for?”
    “Being so angry the next day.”
    He snorts. “Baby, I understand angry.” He pauses then sighs. “You see, Ana, I want you to myself. I don’t want to share you. What we have, I’ve never had before. I want to be the center of your universe, for a while at least.”
    Oh, Christian. “You are. That’s not going to change.”
    He gives me an indulgent, sad, resigned smile. “Ana,” he whispers. “That’s just not true.”
    Tears prick my eyes.
    “How can it be?” he murmurs.
    Oh, no.
    “Shit—don’t cry, Ana. Please, don’t cry.” He caresses my face.
    “I’m sorry.” My lower lip trembles, and he brushes his thumb over it, soothing me.
    “No, Ana, no. Don’t be sorry. You’ll have someone else to love as well. And you’re right. That’s how it should be.”
    “Blip will love you, too. You’ll be the center of Blip’s—Junior’s world,” I whisper. “Children love their parents unconditionally, Christian. That’s how they come into the world. Programmed to love. All babies  . . . even you. Think about that children’s book you liked when you were small. You still wanted your mom. You loved her.”
    He furrows his brow and withdraws his hand, fisting it against his chin.
    “No,” he whispers.
    “Yes. You did.” My tears flow freely now. “Of course you did. It wasn’t an option. That’s why you’re so hurt.”
    He stares at me, his expression raw.
    “That’s why you’re able to love me,” I murmur. “Forgive her. She had her own world of pain to deal with. She was a shitty mother, and