Fifty Shades Darker (book 5) novel Chapter 109

I can’t breathe.

This is it, what I’d predicted from the beginning.

“I…” Ana mutters.

How do I stop her? I look around the room, for help. What can I do?

“You can’t go. Ana, I love you!” It’s my last-minute pitch to save this deal, to save us.

“I love you, too, Christian, it’s just—”

The vortex is sucking me under.

She’s had enough.

I’ve driven her away.

Again.

I feel dizzy. I put my hands on my head, trying to contain the pain that slices through me. My despair is carving a hole in my chest that gets bigger and bigger and bigger. It’s going to take me down. “No. No.”

Find your happy place.

My happy place.

When was it easier?

Easier to wear my pain on the outside.

Elena is standing over me. In her hands, she holds a thin cane. The welts on my back burn. Each throbbing with pain as my blood thrums through my body.

I’m on my knees. At her feet.

“More, mistress.”

Quiet the monster.

More. Mistress.

More.

Find your happy place, Grey.

Make your peace.

Peace. Yes.

No.

A tidal wave rises inside my body, crashing and breaking within me, but as it recedes it sucks the fear away.

You can do this.

I drop to my knees.

I take a deep breath and place my hands on my thighs.

Yes. Peace.

I’m in a landscape of calm.

I give myself to you. All of me. I’m yours to do with as you wish.

What will she do?

I look straight ahead, and I’m aware that she’s watching me. In the far distance, I hear her voice.

“Christian, what are you doing?”

I inhale slowly, filling my lungs. Fall is in the air. Ana.

“Christian! What are you doing?” The voice is closer, louder, more high-pitched.

“Christian, look at me!”

I look up. And wait.

She’s beautiful. Pale. Worried.

“Christian, please, don’t do this. I don’t want this.”

You must tell me what you want. I wait.

“Why are you doing this? Talk to me,” she pleads.

“What would you like me to say?”

She gasps. It’s a soft sound and it stirs memories of happier times with her. I shut those down. There is only now. Her cheeks are wet. Tears. She wrings her hands.

And suddenly she’s on her knees, facing me.

Her eyes are on mine. The outer rings of her irises are indigo. They lighten toward the middle to the color of a cloudless summer sky. But her pupils are expanding, a deep black darkening each center.

“Christian, you don’t have to do this. I’m not going to run. I’ve told you and told you and told you, I won’t run. All that’s happened. It’s overwhelming. I just need some time to think. Some time to myself. Why do you always assume the worst?”

Because the worst happens.

Always.

“I was going to suggest going back to my apartment this evening. You never give me any time—time to just think things through.”

She wants to be on her own.