𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎 𝐈 𝐑𝐀𝐍 ▸ Ana asked Christian how bad it could be, and so he showed her. Leaving Christian, Ana finds herself alone and running from the man who bruised her backside yet owns her heart. But Seattle is a big place, and Christian isn't...
Flowers. Two dozen white roses. I opened the envelope and read the typewritten card. I'm glad Christian liked the glider, although I wondered whether it was really on his desk? Somehow it seemed unlikely that he'd wasted his weekend building it, but I don't suppose I'd ever know, now.
While the delivery was a sweet gesture, ultimately I was disappointed. I guess on some level, I'd hoped Christian would miss me as much as I missed him and would try to get me back. My heart had dreamed he'd call, or visit. Hell – even an email would have been something. But instead, it's roses - and not even red ones. The typewritten note seemed so final. Surely if he'd missed me, Christian would have written the card himself? And the Christian I'd known wouldn't have entrusted a personal delivery like this to a flower courier; he would have had Taylor or one of his security deliver them. I guess I was no longer an integral part of his world, though. And that hurt more than anything. To feel like I'd gone from Christian's girl to the recipient of flowers with a florist's typewritten greeting was devastating, and my heart crumbled further in my chest.
I couldn't throw them out, even though I should. If all Christian Grey had to offer me, now, were twenty-four perfect roses then I'd accept them, knowing I only had myself to blame. So I found a vase and carefully transferred each faultless bud until they were fanned out in a perfect spray. Carefully adding water, I put them on the countertop then turned off the lights, retreating to my bedroom. I didn't even switch on my lamp as I undressed and climbed into bed, curling up under the comforter and clutching the foil of Charlie Tango as I continued its baptism in tears.
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I was sitting at the counter at 7:00 am Tuesday morning, staring at the still perfect blooms as I desolately dunked my teabag in a teacup. I'd barely slept all night. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd imagine him. And the worst thing is, I didn't want the dreams to go away. Even when I dreamed of Christian as the cold, domineering full fifty shades, I still imagined he was mine. That he wanted me the way I still wanted him.
Downing one cup of tea quickly followed by another, I put the discarded teabags in the freezer to cool. Kate swore my teabags on her eyelids were just the thing after a night on the town, or a session spent sobbing in her pink flannel bunny rabbit pajamas and catching sight of myself in the mirror I figured I'd need every bit of help I could get today.
Making use of Kate's closet again, I chose a simple navy shift, remembering to team it with a matching cardigan for warmth. A simple pair of low heels and I was done. Back in the kitchen, I retrieved the teabags from the freezer, lying on the sofa and placing one on each puffy eyelid. They were surprisingly soothing, and I enjoyed lying there in the silence, the occasional car horn or traffic noise outside the only thing to disturb me. I must have drifted off because when I came to with a start, it was 8:10! I flew around the house, quickly putting on concealer and then some makeup before locking the front door and racing to the bus stop, stepping onto the correct bus seconds before it pulled away. Relaxing back into my seat, I sighed. Finally, something was going right.
