Fifty Shades of Grey (book 1+ 2)

Chapter 149

"Goodbye, Christian," I murmur.

"Ana, goodbye," he says softly, and he looks utterly, utterly broken, a man in agonizing pain, reflecting

how I feel inside. I tear my gaze away from him before I change my mind and try to comfort him. Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

The elevator doors close, and it whisks me down to the bowels of the basement and to my own

personal hell.

Taylor holds the door open for me, and I climb into the back of the car. I avoid eye contact.

Embarrassment and shame washes over me. I'm a complete failure. I had hoped to drag my Fifty

Shades into the light, but it's proved a task beyond my meager abilities. Desperately, I try to keep my

emotions banked and at bay. As we head out onto 4th Avenue, I stare blankly out of the window, and

the enormity of what I've done slowly washes over me. Shit - I've left him. The only man I've ever loved.

The only man I've ever slept with.

I gasp, and the levees burst. Tears course unbidden and unwelcome down my cheeks, and I wipe them

away hurriedly with my fingers, scrambling in my bag for my sunglasses. As we pause at some traffic

lights, Taylor holds out a linen handkerchief for me. He says nothing and doesn't look in my direction,

and I take it with gratitude.

"Thank you," I mutter, and this small discreet act of kindness is my undoing. I sit back in the luxurious

leather seats and weep.

The apartment is achingly empty and unfamiliar. I have not lived here long enough for it to feel like

home. I head straight to my room, and there, hanging limply at the end of my bed, is a very sad,

deflated helicopter balloon. Charlie Tango, looking and feeling exactly like me. I grab it angrily off my

bedrail, snapping the tie, and hug it to me. Oh - what have I done?

I fall onto my bed, shoes and all, and howl. The pain is indescribable... physical, mental...

metaphysical... it is everywhere, seeping into the marrow of my bones. Grief.

This is grief - and I've brought it on myself. Deep down, a nasty, unbidden thought comes from my inner

goddess, her lip curled in a snarl... the physical pain from the bite of a belt is nothing, nothing

compared to this devastation. I curl up, desperately clutching the flat foil balloon and Taylor's

handkerchief, and surrender myself to my grief.

End of Part One

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