Fifty Shades Freed (Christian & Ana)(230)

"Pain relief." Nora smiles, showing me the white pill in the paper cup.

"Is this okay to take? You know—with the baby?"

"Yes, Mrs. Grey. It's Lortab—it's fine; it won't affect the baby."

I nod gratefully. My head is pounding. I swallow it down with a sip of water.

"You ought to rest, Mrs. Grey." Nurse Nora looks pointedly at Christian.

He nods.

No! "You're going?" I exclaim, panic setting in. Don't go—we've just started talking!

Christian snorts. "If you think for one moment I'm going to let you out of my sight, Mrs. Grey, you are very much mistaken."

Nora huffs but hovers over me and readjusts my pillows so that I have to lie down.

"Goodnight, Mrs. Grey," she says, and with one last censorious glance at Christian, she leaves.

He raises an eyebrow as she closes the door.

"I don't think Nurse Nora approves of me."

He stands by the bed, looking tired, and despite the fact that I want him to stay, I know I should try to persuade him to go home.

"You need rest, too, Christian. Go home. You look exhausted."

"I'm not leaving you. I'll doze in this armchair."

I scowl at him then shift onto my side.

"Sleep with me."

He frowns. "No. I can't."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't hurt me. Please, Christian."

"You have an IV."

"Christian. Please."

He gazes at me, and I can tell he's tempted.

"Please." I lift up the blankets, inviting him into the bed.

"Fuck it." He slips off his shoes and socks, and gingerly climbs in beside me.

Gently, he wraps his arm around me, and I lay my head on his chest. He kisses my hair.

"I don't think Nurse Nora will be very happy with this arrangement," he whispers conspiratorially.

I giggle, then stop as pain lances through my chest. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

"Oh, but I love that sound," he says a little sadly, his voice low. "I'm sorry, baby, so, so sorry." He kisses my hair again and inhales deeply, and I don't know what he's apologizing for . . . making me laugh? Or the mess we're in? I rest my hand over his heart, and he gently places his hand on mine. We are both silent for a moment.

"Why did you go see that woman?"

"Oh, Ana." He groans. "You want to discuss that now? Can't we drop this? I regret it, okay?"

"I need to know."

"I'll tell you tomorrow," he mutters, irritated. "Oh, and Detective Clark wants to talk to you. Just routine. Now go to sleep."

He kisses my hair. I sigh heavily. I need to know why. At least he says he regrets it. That's something, my subconscious agrees. She's in an agreeable mood today, it seems. Ugh, Detective Clark. I shudder at the thought of reliving Thursday's events for him.

"Do we know why Jack was doing all this?"

"Hmm," Christian murmurs. I'm soothed by the slow rise and fall of his chest, gently rocking my head, lulling me to sleep as his breathing slows. And while I drift I try to make sense of the fragments of conversations I heard while I was on the edge of consciousness, but they slither through my mind, remaining steadfastly elusive, taunting me from the edges of my memory. Oh, it's frustrating and exhausting . . . and . . .

Nurse Nora's mouth is pursed and her arms folded in hostility. I hold my finger up to my lips.