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asks.
I nod.
“Okay. Let’s go eat. Let him sleep in peace.”
I frown. I don’t want to lea一ve him.
“Ana, he’s in a coma. I’ve given our cell numbers to the nurses here. If there’s
any change, they’ll call us. We’ll eat, check into a hotel, rest up, then come
back this evening.”
The suite at the Heathman looks just as I remember it. How often ha一ve I
thought about that first night and morning I spent with Christian Grey, now my
husband? I stand in the entrance to the suite, paralyzed. Jeez, it all started
here.
“Home away from home,” says Christian, his voice soft, putting my briefcase
down beside one of the overstuffed couches.
“Do you want a shower? A bath? What do you need, Ana?”
Christian gazes at me, and I know he’s lost—my lost boy dealing with events
beyond his control. He’s been withdrawn and contemplative all afternoon.
This is a situation he cannot manipulate and predict. This is real life in the
raw, and he’s kept himself from that for so long, he’s exposed and helpless
now. My sweet, sheltered Fifty Shades.
“A bath. I’d like a bath.” I murmur, aware that keeping him busy will make him
feel better, useful even. Oh, Christian—I’m numb and I’m cold and I’m
scared, but I’m so glad you’re here with me.
“Bath. Good. Yes.” He strides into the bedroom and out of sight into the
palatial bathroom. A few moments later, the roar of water gushing to fill the
tub echoes from the room.
Finally, I galvanize myself to follow him into the bedroom. I’m dismayed to
see several bags from Nordstrom on the bed. Christian reenters, sleeves
rolled up, tie and jacket discarded.
“I sent Taylor to get some things. Nightwear. You know,” he says, eyeing me
warily.
Of course he did. I nod my approval. Where is Taylor?
“Oh, Ana,” Christian murmurs. “I’ve not seen you like this. You’re normally so
bra一ve and strong.”
I don’t know what to say. I merely gaze wide-eyed at him. I ha一ve nothing,
nothing to give right now. I think I’m in shock. I wrap my 3
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