Part III Chapter Twenty-One

chaptertwenty-one

igapeatthetextthenlookupatthesleepingformofmyhusband.he’sbeen

outuntilonethirtyinthemorningdrinking—withher!hesnoressoftly,

sleepingthesleepofaseeminglyinnocent,obliviousdrunk.helooksso

serene.ohno,no,no.

mylegsturntojelly,andisinkslowlytothechairbesidethebedindisbelief.

raw,bitter,humiliatingbetrayallancesthroughme.howcouldhe?how

couldhegotoher?scalding,angrytearsoozedownmycheeks.hiswrath

andfear,hisneedtolashoutatmeicanunderstand,andforgive—just.but

this...thistreacheryistoomuch.ipullmykneesupagainstmychestand

wrapmyarmsaroundthem,protectingmeandprotectingmylittleblip.i

rocktoandfro,weepingsoftly.whatdidiexpect?imarriedthismantoo

quickly.iknewit—iknewitwouldcometothis.why.why.why?howcould

hedothistome?heknowshowifeelaboutthatwoman.howcouldheturn

toher?

how?theknifetwistsslowandpainfullydeepinmyheart,laceratingme.

willitalwaysbethisway?

thetearsflow,andhisprostratefigureblursandshimmersthroughmytears.

oh,christian.imarriedhimbecauseilovehim,anddeepdowniknowthat

helovesme.iknowhedoes.hisachinglysweetbirthdaypresentcomesto

mind.

forallourfirstsonyourfirstbirthdayasmybelovedwife.iloveyou.cx

no,no,no—ican’tbelievethatitwillalwaysbethisway,twostepsforward

andthreestepsback.butthat’showit’salwaysbeenwithhim.aftereach

setback,wemoveforward,inchbyinch.hewillcomearound...hewill.but

willi?willirecoverfromthis…fromthistreachery?ithinkabouthowhe’s

beenthislast,horrible,wonderfulweekend.hisquietstrengthwhilemy

stepdadlaybrokenandcomatoseintheicu...mysurpriseparty,bringing

myfamilyandfriendstogether...dippingmedownlowoutsidethe

heathmanandkissingmeinfullpublicview.oh,christian,youstrainallmy

trust,allmy395|page

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faith...andiloveyou.

butit’snotjustmenow.iplacemyhandonmybelly.no,iwillnotlethimdo

thistomeandourblip.dr.flynnsaidishouldgivehimthebenefitofthe

doub一t—well,notthistime.idashthetearsfrommyeyesandwipemynose

withthebackofmyhand.

christianstirsandrollsover,pullinghislegsupfromthesideofthebed,and

curlsupbeneaththeduvet.hestretchesoutahandasifsearchingfor

something,thengrumblesandfrownsbutsettlesbacktosleep,hisarm

outstretched.

oh,fifty.whatamigoingtodowithyou?andwhatthehellwereyoudoing

withthebitchtroll?ineedtoknow.iglanceoncemoreattheoffendingtext

andquicklyhatchaplan.takingadeepbreath,iforwardthetexttomy

blackberry.steponecomplete.iquicklychecktheotherrecenttexts,butcan

onlyseemessagesfromelliot,andrea,taylor,ros,andme.nonefrom

elena.good,ithink.iexitthetextscreen,relievedthathehasn’tbeentexting

her,andmyheartlurchesintomythroat.ohmy.thewallpaperonhisphone

isphotographuponphotographofme,apatchworkoftinyanastasiasin

variousposes—ourhoneymoon,ourrecentweekendsailingandsoaring,

andafewofjosé’sphotos,too.whendidhedothis?itmustha一vebeen

recently.

inoticehise-mailicon,andanideaslithersenticinglyintomymind...i

couldreadchristian’se-mails.seeifhe’sbeentalkingtoher.shouldi?

sheathedinjade-greensilk,myinnergoddessnodsemphatically,hermouth

setinascowl.beforeicanstopmyself,iinvadehisprivacy.

therearehundredsandhundredsofe-mails.ispindownthroughthem,and

theylookdullasditchwater...mostlyfromros,andreaandme,andvarious

executivesinhiscompany.nonefrombitchtroll.whilei’matit,i’mrelieved

toseetherearenonefromleilaeither.onee-mailcatchesmyeye.it’sfrom

barneysullivan,christian’sitguy,andthesubjectlineis:jackhyde.i

glanceguiltilyatchristian,buthe’sstillsnoringgently.i’veneverheardhim

snore.iopentheemail.

from:barneysullivan

396|page

eljames

subject:jackhyde

date:september13,201114:09

to:christiangrey

cctvaroundseattletracksthewhitevanfromsouthirvingstreet.before

thaticanfindnotracesohydemustha一vebeenbasedinthatarea.

aswelchhastoldyoutheunsubcarwasrentedwithafalselicensebyan

unknownfemale,nothingthattiesuptothesouthirvingstreetarea.

detailsofknowngehandsipemployeeswholiveintheareaareinthe

attachedfile,whichiha一veforwardedtowelch,too.therewasnothingon

hyde’ssipcomputerabouthisformerpas.

asareminder,hereisalistofwhatwasretrievedfromhyde’ssip

computer.

greys’homeaddresses:

fivepropertiesinseattle

twopropertiesindetroit

detailedresumésfor:

carrickgrey

elliotgrey

christiangrey

dr.gracetrevelyan

anastasiasteele

miagrey

newspaperandonlinearticlesrelatingto:

dr.gracetrevelyan

carrickgrey

christiangrey

elliotgrey

397|page

fiftyshadesfreed

photographs:

carrickgrey

dr.gracetrevelyan

christiangrey

elliotgrey

miagrey

i’lcontinuemyinvestigation,seewhatelseicanfind.bsullivan

headofit,geh.

thisodde-mailmomentarilysidetracksmefrommynightofwoe.iclickon

theattachmenttocheckthroughthenamesonthelist,butit’sobviouslyhuge,

toobigtoopenontheblackberry.

whatamidoing?it’slate.i’vehadatiringday.therearenoemailsfromthe

bitchtrollorleilawilliams,anditakesomecoldcomfortfromthat.iglance

quicklyatthealarmclock:it’sjustaftertwointhemorning.todayhasbeena

dayofrevelations.iamtobeamother,andmyhusbandhasbeen

fraternizingwiththeenemy.well,lethimstew.iamnotsleepingherewith

him—hecanwakeupalonetomorrow.afterplacinghisblackberryonthe

bedsidetable,iretrievemypursefrombesidethebedand,afteronelast

lookatmyangelic,sleepingjudas,ilea一vethebedroom.

thespareplayroomkeyisinitsusualplaceinthecabinetintheutilityroom.i

grabitandscootupstairs.fromthelinencloset,iretrieveapillow,duvetand

sheet,thenunlocktheplayroomdoorandenter,switchingthelightstodim.

oddthatifindthesmellandambienceofthisroomsocomforting,

consideringisafewordedthelasttimewewereinhere.ilockthedoor

behindme,lea一vingthekeyinthelock.iknowthattomorrowmorning

christianwillbefrantictofindme,andidon’tthinkhe’lllookinhereifthe

door’slocked.well,itwillservehimright.

icurluponthechesterfieldcouch,wrapmyselfintheduvetanddragmy

blackberryfrommypurse.checkingmytexts,ifindtheonefromtheevil

bitchtrollthatiforwardedfromchristian’sphone.i398|page

eljames

press‘forward’andtype:

*wouldyoulikemrs.lincolntojoinuswhenwe

eventuallydiscussthistextshesenttoyou?it

willsa一veyourunningtoherafterward.your

wife*

ipress‘send’andswitchthevolumetomute.ihuddleundermyduvet.forall

mybra一vado,i’moverwhelmedbytheenormityofchristian’sdeceit.this

shouldbeahappytime—jeez,we’regoingtobeparents.briefly,irelive

tellingchristianthati’mpregnantandfantasizethathefallstohiskneeswith

joyinfrontofme,pullingmeintohisarmsandontohislaptellingmehow

muchhelovesmeandourlittleblip.yethereiam,aloneandcoldina

bdsmfantasyplayroom.suddenlyifeelold,olderthanmyyears.takingon

christianwasalwaysgoingtobeachallenge,buthereallyhassurpassed

himselfthistime.whatwashethinking?well,ifhewantsafight,i’llgivehim

afight.nowayamigoingtolethimgetawaywithrunningofftoseethat

monstrouswomanwheneverweha一veaproblem.he’sgoingtoha一veto

choose—herormeandourlittleblip.isnifflesoftly,butbecausei’mso

exhausted,isoonfallasleep.

iwakewithastart,momentarilydisorientated...ohyes—i’minthe

playroom.becausetherearenowindows,iha一venoideawhattimeitis.the

doorhandlerattles.

“ana!”christianshoutsfromoutsidethedoor.ifreeze...buthedoesn’t

comein.ihearmuffledvoices,buttheymoveaway.iexhaleandcheckthe

timeonmyblackberry.it’ssevenfifty,andiha一vefourmissedcallsandtwo

voicemessages.themissedcallsaremostlyfromchristian,butthere’salso

onefromkate.ohno,hemustha一vecalledher.idon’tha一vetimetolistento

them.idon’twanttobelateforwork.iwraptheduvetaroundmeandpickup

mypursebeforemakingmywaytothedoor.unlockingitslowly,ipeek

outside.nosignofanyone.ohshit...perhapsthisisabitmelodramatic.i

rollmyeyesatmyself,takeadeepbreathandheaddownstairs.

taylor,sawyer,ryan,mrs.jones,andchristianareallstandingin399|pa

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theentrancetothegreatroom,andchristianissuingrapid-fireinstructions.

asonetheyallturnandgapeatme.christianisstillwearingtheclotheshe

sleptinlastnight.helooksdisheveled,pale,andheart-stoppinglybeautiful.

hislargegrayeyesarewide,andidon’tknowifhe’sfearfulorangry.it’s

difficulttotell.

“sawyer,i’llbereadytolea一veinabouttwentyminutes,”imutter,wrappingthe

duvettighteraroundmeforprotection.henods,andalleyesturnto

christian,whoisstillstaringintenselyatme.

“wouldyoulikesomebreakfast,mrs.grey?”mrs.jonesasks.ishakemy

head.

“i’mnothungry,thankyou.”shepursesherlipsbutsaysnothing.

“wherewereyou?”christianasks,hisvoicelowandhusky.suddenly

sawyer,taylor,ryanandmrs.jonesscatter,scurryingintotaylor’soffice,

intothefoyer,andintothekitchenliketerrifiedratsfromasinkingship.

iignorechristianandmarchtowardourbedroom.

“ana,”hecallsafterme,“answerme.”ihearhisfootstepsbehindmeasi

walkintothebedroomandcontinueintoourbathroom.quickly,iturnand

lockthedoor.

lockthedoor.

“ana!”christianknocksonthedoor.iturnontheshower.thedoorrattles.

“ana,openthedamneddoor.”

“goaway!”

“i’mnotgoinganywhere.”

“suityourself.”

“ana,please.”

iclimbintotheshower,effectivelyblockinghimout.oh,it’swarm.the

healingwatercascadesoverme,cleansingtheexhaustionofthenightoffmy

skin.ohmy.thisfeelssogood.foramoment,foroneshortmoment,ican

pretendalliswell.iwashmyhairandbythetimei’vefinished,ifeelbetter,

stronger,readytofacethefreighttrainthatischristiangrey.iwrapmyhair

inatowel,brisklydrymyselfwithanothertowel,andwrapitaroundme.

iunlockthedoorandopenitandfindchristianisleaningagainstthewall

opposite,hishandsbehindhisback.hisexpressioniswary,thatofahunted

predator.istridepasthimintoourwalk-incloset.

“areyouignoringme?”christianasksindisbeliefashestandson400|pa

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eljames

thethresholdofthecloset.

“perceptive,aren’tyou?”imurmurabsentmindedlyasisearchforsomething

towear.ah,yes—myplumdress.islideitoffthehanger,choosemyhigh

blackstilettoboots,andheadforthebedroom.ipauseforchristiantostep

outofmyway,whichhedoes,eventually—hisintrinsicgoodmannerstaking

over.isensehiseyesboringintomeasiwalkovertomychestofdrawers,

andipeekathiminthemirror,standingmotionlessinthedoorway,watching

me.inanactworthyofanoscarwinner,iletmytowelfalltothefloorand

pretendthatiamoblivioustomynakedbody.ihearhisrestrainedgaspand

ignoreit.

“whyareyoudoingthis?”heasks.hisvoiceislow.

“whydoyouthink?”myvoiceisvelvetsoftasipulloutaprettypairofblack

lacelaperlapanties.

“ana—”hestopsasishimmyintothem.

“goaskyourmrs.robinson.i’msureshe’llha一veanexplanationforyou,”i

mutterasisearchforthematchingbra.

“ana,i’vetoldyoubefore,she’snotmy—”

“idon’twanttohearit,christian.”iwa一vemyhanddismissively.

“thetimefortalkingwasyesterday,butinsteadyoudecidedtorantandget

drunkwiththewomanwhoabusedyouforyears.giveheracall.iamsure

she’llbemorethanwillingtolistentoyounow.”ifindthematchingbraand

slowlypullitonandfastenit.christianwalksfurtherintothebedroomand

placeshishandsonhiships.

“whywereyousnoopingonme?”hesays.

inspiteofmyresolveiflush.“that’snotthepoint,christian,”isnapathim.

“factis,goinggetstoughandyouruntoher.”

hismouthsettlesintoagrimline.“itwasn’tlikethat.”

“i’mnotinterested.”pickingapairofblackthighhighswithlaceytops,i

retreattothebed.isit,pointmytoe,andgentlyeasethegossamermaterial

uptomythigh.

“wherewereyou?”heasks,hiseyesfollowingmyhandsupmylegs,buti

continuetoignorehimasislowlyrollontheotherstocking.standing,ibend

totowel-drymyhair.throughmypartedthighs,icanseehisbarefeet,andi

sensehisintensegaze.wheni’vefinished,istandandstepbacktothe

chestofdrawerswhereigrabmyhairdryer.

“answerme.”christian’svoiceislowandhusky.

iswitchonthehairdryersoicannolongerhearhimandwatchhim401|pa

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throughmylashesinthemirrorasifingerdrymyhair.heglaresatme,eyes

narrowandcool,chillingeven.ilookaway,focusingonthetaskathandand

tryingtosuppresstheshiverthatrunsthroughme.iswallowhardand

concentrateondryingmyhair.he’sstillmad.hegoesoutwiththatdamned

woman,andhe’smadatme?howdarehe!

whenmyhairlookswildanduntamed,istop.yes...ilikeit.iswitchoffthe

hairdryer.

“wherewereyou?”hewhispers,histonearctic.

“whatdoyoucare?”

“ana,stopthis.now.”

ishrug,andchristianmovesquicklyacrosstheroomtowardme.iwhirl

around,steppingbackashereachesout.

“don’ttouchme,”ihissandhefreezes.

“wherewereyou?”hedemands.hishandsfistathisside.

“iwasn’toutgettingdrunkwithmyex,”iseethe.“didyousleepwithher?”

hegasps.“what?no!”hegapesatmeandhasthegalltolookwounded

andangryatthesametime.mysubconsciousbreathesasmall,welcome

sighofrelief.

“youthinki’dcheatonyou?”histoneisoneofmoraloutrage.

“youdid,”isnarl.“bytakingourveryprivatelifeandspillingyourspineless

gutstothatwoman.”

hismouthdropsopen.“spineless.that’swhatyouthink?”hiseyesblaze.

“christian,isawthetext.that’swhatiknow.”

“thattextwasnotmeantforyou,”hegrowls.

“well,factisisawitwhenyourblackberryfelloutofyourjacketwhileiwas

undressingyoubecauseyouweretoodrunktoundressyourself.doyou

ha一veanyideahowmuchyou’vehurtmebygoingtoseethatwoman?”

hepalesmomentarily,buti’monaroll,myinnerbitchunleashed.

“doyourememberlastnightwhenyoucamehome?rememberwhatyou

said?”

hestaresatmeblankly,hisfacefrozen.

“well,youwereright.idochoosethisdefenselessbabyoveryou.that’s

whatanylovingparentdoes.that’swhatyourmothershouldha一vedonefor

you.andiamsorrythatshedidn’t—becausewe402|page

eljames

wouldn’tbeha一vingthisconversationrightnowifshehad.butyou’reanadult

now—youneedtogrowupandsmellthefuckingcoffeeandstopbeha一ving

likeapetulantadolescent.

“youmaynotbehappyaboutthisbaby.i’mnotecstatic,giventhetimingand

yourless-than-lukewarmreceptiontothisnewlife,thisfleshofyourflesh.but

youcaneitherdothiswithme,ori’lldoitonmyown.thedecisionisyours.

“whileyouwallowinyourpitofself-pityandself-loathing,i’mgoingtowork.

andwhenireturni’llbemovingmybelongingstotheroomupstairs.”

heblinksatme,shocked.

“now,ifyou’llexcuseme,i’dliketofinishgettingdressed.”iambreathing

hard.veryslowly,christianretreatsonestep,hisdemeanorhardening.

“isthatwhatyouwant?”hewhispers.

“idon’tknowwhatiwantanymore.”mytonemirrorshis,andittakesa

monumentalefforttofeigndisinterestwhileicasuallydipthetipsofmy

fingersintomymoisturizerandsmoothitgentlyovermyface.ipeeratmyself

inthemirror.blueeyeswide,facepale,butcheeksflushed.you’redoing

great.don’tbackdownnow.don’tbackdownnow.

“youdon’twantme?”hewhispers.

oh—no...ohnoyoudon’t,grey.