Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(189)

Ray looks much the same. Hairier. Mom is shocked when she sees him, and together we cry a little more.

"Oh, Ray." She squeezes his hand and gently strokes his face, and I'm moved to see her love for her ex-husband. I'm glad I have tissues in my purse. We sit beside him, me holding her hand while she holds his.

"Ana, there was a time when this man was the center of my world. The sun rose and set with him. I'll always love him. He's taken such good care of you."

"Mom—" I choke and she strokes my face and tucks a lock of my hair behind my ear.

"You know I'll always love Ray. We just drifted apart." She sighs. "And I just couldn't live with him." She gazes down at her fingers, and I wonder if she's thinking about Steve, Husband Number Three, who we don't talk about.

"I know you love Ray," I whisper, drying my eyes. "They're going to bring him out of his coma today."

"Good. I'm sure he'll be fine. He's so stubborn. I think you learned it from him."

I smile. "Have you been talking to Christian?"

"Does he think you're stubborn?"

"I believe so."

"I'll tell him it's a family trait. You look so good together, Ana. So happy."

"We are, I think. Getting there, anyway. I love him. He's the center of my world. The sun rises and sets with him for me, too."

"He obviously adores you, darling."

"And I adore him."

"Make sure you tell him. Men need to hear that stuff just like we do."

I insist on going to the airport with Mom and Bob to say good-bye. Taylor follows in the R8, and Christian drives the SUV. I'm sorry they can't stay longer, but they have to get back to Savannah. It's a tearful good-bye.

"Take good care of her, Bob," I whisper as he hugs me.

"Sure will, Ana. And you look after yourself."

"Will do." I turn to my mother. "Good-bye, Mom. Thank you for coming," I whisper, my voice hoarse. "I love you so much."

"Oh my darling girl, I love you, too. And Ray will be fine. He's not ready to shuffle off his mortal coil just yet. There's probably a Mariners game he can't miss."

I giggle. She's right. I resolve to read the sports pages of the Sunday newspaper to Ray that evening. I watch her and Bob climb the steps into the GEH jet. She gives me a tearful wave, then she's gone. Christian wraps his arm around my shoulder.

"Let's head back, baby," he murmurs

"Will you drive?"

"Sure."

When we return to the hospital that evening, Ray looks different. It takes me a moment to realize that the suck and push of the ventilator has vanished. Ray is breathing on his own. Relief floods through me . I stroke his stubbly face, and taking out a tissue to gently wipe, the spittle from his mouth.

Christian stalks off to find Dr. Sluder or Dr. Crowe for an update, while I take my familiar seat beside his bed to keep a watchful vigil.

I unfold the sports section of the Sunday Oregonian and conscientiously begin reading out the report about the Sounders soccer game against Real Salt Lake.

By all accounts, it was a wild game, but the Sounders were defeated by an own goal from Kasey Keller. I grip Ray's hand firmly in mine as I read it through.

"And the final score, Sounders 1, Real Salt Lake 2."

"Hey, Annie, we lost? No!" Ray rasps, and he squeezes my hand.

Daddy!

Tears stream down my face. He's back. My daddy is back.