I give her a lopsided, bittersweet smile.
“I think I’ve kissed a prince, Mom. I hope he doesn’t turn into a frog.”
She gives me her most endearing-motherly-absolute-unconditional-love smile, and I marvel at the love I feel for this woman as we hug again.
“Ana – they’re calling your flight,” Bob’s voice is anxious.
“Will you visit, Mom?”
“Of course darling – soon. Love you.”
“Me too.”
Her eyes are red with unshed tears as she releases me. I hate lea一ving her. I hug Bob, and turning, head to the gate – I do not ha一ve time for the first class lounge today. I will myself not to glance back. But I do… and Bob is holding my mom, and tears are streaming
down her face. I can no longer hold mine back. I put my head down and proceed to the gate, keeping my eyes on the shiny, white floor, blurred through my watery tears.
Once on board, in the luxury of first class, I curl up in my seat and try to compose myself. It is always painful to wrench myself away from Mom… she is scatty, disorganized, but newly insightful, and she loves me. Unconditional love – what every child deserves from its parents. I frown at my wayward thoughts, and pulling out my BlackBerry, stare at it despondently.
What does Christian know of love? Seems he didn’t get the unconditional love he was entitled to during his very early years. My heart twists, and my mother’s words waft like a zephyr through my mind: Yes, Ana. Hell – what do you need? – a neon sign flashing on his forehead? She thinks Christian loves me, but then she’s my mother, of course she’d think that. She thinks I deserve the best of everything. I frown. It’s true, and in a moment of startling clarity, I see it. It’s very simple: I want his love. I need Christian Grey to love me. This is why I am so reticent about our relationship – because on some basic, fundamental level, I recognize within me a deep-seated compulsion to be loved and cherished.
And because of his fifty shades – I am holding myself back. The BDSM is a distraction from the re
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