Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(177)

"Can he hear me?" I ask.

"He's in a deep sleep. But who knows?"

"Can I sit for a while?"

"Sure thing." She smiles at me, her cheeks pink from a telltale blush. Incongruously, I find myself thinking blond is not her true color.

Christian gazes down at me, ignoring her. "I need to make a call. I'll be outside. I'll give you some alone time with your dad."I nod. He kisses my hair and walks out of the room. I hold Ray's hand, marveling at the irony that it's only now when he's unconscious and can't hear me that I really want to tell him how much I love him. This man has been my constant. My rock. And I've never thought about it until now. I'm not flesh of his flesh, but he's my dad, and I love him so very much. My tears trail down my cheeks. Please, please get better.

Very quietly, so as not to disturb anyone, I tell him about our weekend in Aspen and about last weekend when we were soaring and sailing aboard The Grace. I tell him about our new house, our plans, about how we hope to make it ecologically sustainable. I promise to take him with us to Aspen so he can go fishing with Christian and assure him that Mr. Rodriguez and José will both be welcome, too . Please be here to do that, Daddy. Please.

Ray remains immobile, the ventilator sucking and expelling and the monotonous but reassuring beep, beep, beep of his heart monitor his only response.

When I look up, Christian is sitting quietly at the end of the bed. I don't know how long he's been there.

"Hi," he says, his eyes glowing with compassion and concern.

"Hi."

"So, I'm going fishing with your dad, Mr. Rodriguez, and José?" he asks.

I nod.

"Okay. Let's go eat. Let him sleep."

I frown. I don't want to leave 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 have I thought about that first night and morning I spent with Christian Grey? 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 rudderless—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 He's been withdrawn and contemplative all afternoon.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 pala-tial 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 to make him feel better. Where is Taylor?

"Oh, Ana," Christian murmurs. "I've not seen you like this. You're normally so brave and strong."