And So I Ran - Complete

Chapter 1

It was my own fault. I'd asked Christian to show me how bad it could get. And because I'd promised him I could handle it, he had.

I could feel the bile rising in my throat with each crack of the belt across my backside – the bitter sting that proved, louder than any words, that I wasn't – that I could never be what Christian wanted and needed. Yet still, I counted. I got to six before I started pushing away from him – some slumbering vestige of self-protection rousing itself and kicking in.

I raced from the playroom, my destination unclear. I didn't know where I wanted to be other than as far away as possible from him. How could I have fallen in love with a man who was so tender yet paradoxically also so vicious? As he followed me into the subs' room, or was it my room now, he pulled me hard against him. His tender hands and words attempting to soothe and reassure my battered flesh and injured soul. His offerings of arnica and Advil poor payment for the injuries he'd inflicted.

And yet he looked so lost. Fearful even. Who was he to look at me with such trepidation? I was the aggrieved party, here. I was the one to fall in love with an angel who turned out to be in equal part a devil. A man who was terrified of loving me and convinced, in turn, he was unlovable. So when my words finally came, it was an apology. I apologized for not being the woman Christian needed me to be. Yet Mr. Mercurial managed to turn even that on me.

"You're right. I should let you go. I am no good for you."

And I couldn't argue because my sore backside and even more injured heart were the proof. I didn't want to go, but my dignity would not allow me to stay. I'd fallen in love with a man of extremes – and while the good was so very good, there was an equally large part that scared and hurt me. But above all, I loved Christian Grey too well not to be everything he needed. I loved him too well to fail him.

The whole idea that he liked inflicting pain on me was repulsive. That he not only liked it, but that it aroused him. I loved Christian, and as my first and only lover, he'd been the one to introduce me to so much physical pleasure, but I couldn't bear the pain that he needed to inflict. Worshiping my body was not enough for him; he wanted to whip it, too. So I'd confessed my love, then gathering the tatters of my dignity around me I'd accepted a check for Wanda then left everything else he'd given me as I did the only thing I could do. And so I ran.

The first days were the worst. Returning to my new apartment on Saturday morning, I couldn't eat or sleep. The apartment was empty, and thanks to my time with Christian still unfamiliar, so I spent hours in my bed, cuddling the rapidly deflating Charlie Tango balloon that served as an apt metaphor for my short-lived and disastrous love affair with Christian Grey. He'd taken me to previously unknown heights, but then let me fall to untold lows. If it hadn't been for my job at Seattle Independent Publishing, I doubt I would have found the motivation to get out of bed at all. Yet Monday morning found me eyeing my wardrobe critically, looking for an outfit that was professional but stylish.