Grey: Fifty Shades of Grey as Told by Christian(128)
Author: E.L. James

Dawn comes and goes, and the ambient light gets brighter, intruding into the room as morning moves on. And still we lie quietly. My mind drifts as I hold my girl in my arms, and I observe the changing quality of the light. I can’t remember an instance when I just lay down and let time creep by and my thoughts wander. It’s relaxing, imagining what we could do for the rest of the day. Maybe I should take her to see The Grace.

Yes. We could go sailing this afternoon.

If she’s still talking to you, Grey.

She moves, a slight twitch in her foot, and I know she’s awake.

“I brought you some Advil and some arnica cream.”

Finally she responds, slowly turning in my arms to face me. Pain-riven eyes focus on mine, her look intense, questioning. She takes her time to scrutinize me, as if seeing me for the first time. It’s unnerving because, as usual, I have no idea what she’s thinking, what she’s seeing. But she’s definitely calmer, and I welcome the small spark of relief this brings. Today might be a good day after all.

She caresses my cheek and runs her fingers along my jaw, tickling my stubble. I close my eyes, savoring her touch. It’s still so new, this sensation, being touched and enjoying her innocent fingers gently stroking my face, the darkness quiet. I don’t mind her touching my face…or her fingers in my hair.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Her soft-spoken words are a surprise. She’s apologizing to me?

“What for?”

“What I said.”

Relief courses unchecked through my body. She’s forgiven me. Besides, what she said in anger was right—I am a fucked-up son of a bitch.

“You didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know.” And for the first time in so many years I find myself apologizing. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Her shoulders lift a little and she gives me a slight smile. I’ve won a reprieve. We’re safe. We’re okay. I’m relieved.

“I asked for it,” she says.

You sure did, baby.

She swallows nervously. “I don’t think I can be everything you want me to be,” she concedes, her eyes wide with heartfelt sincerity.

The world stops.

Fuck.

We’re not safe at all.

Grey, make this right.

“You are everything I want you to be.”

She frowns. Her eyes are red-rimmed and she’s so pale, the palest I’ve ever seen her. It’s oddly stirring. “I don’t understand,” she says. “I’m not obedient, and you can be as sure as hell I’m not going to let you do that to me again. And that’s what you need—you said so.”

And there it is—her coup de grace. I pushed too far. Now she knows—and all the arguments I had with myself before I embarked on the pursuit of this girl flood back to me. She’s not into the lifestyle. How can I corrupt her this way? She’s too young, too innocent—too…Ana.

My dreams are just that…dreams. This isn’t going to work.

I close my eyes; I can’t bear to look at her. It’s true, she would be better off without me. Now that she’s seen the monster, she knows she can’t contend with him. I have to free her—let her go her own way. This won’t work between us.

Focus, Grey.

“You’re right. I should let you go. I’m no good for you.”

Her eyes widen. “I don’t want to go,” she whispers. Tears pool in her eyes, glistening on long dark lashes.

“I don’t want you to go, either,” I answer, because it’s the truth, and that feeling—that ominous, frightening feeling—is back, overwhelming me. The tears trickle down her cheeks once more. Gently I wipe away a falling tear with my thumb, and before I know it the words tumble out. “I’ve come alive since I met you.” I trace my thumb along her bottom lip. I want to kiss her, hard. Make her forget. Dazzle her. Arouse her—I know I can. But something holds me back—her wary, injured look. Why would she want to be kissed by a monster? She might push me away, and I don’t know if I could deal with any more rejection. Her words haunt me, pulling at some dark and repressed memory.

You are one fucked-up son of a bitch.

“Me, too,” she whispers. “I’ve fallen in love with you, Christian.”

I remember Carrick teaching me to dive. My toes gripping the pool edge as I fell arching into the water—and now I’m falling once more, into the abyss, in slow motion.

There’s no way she can feel that about me.

Not me. No!

And I’m choking for air, strangled by her words pressing their momentous weight on my chest. I plunge down and down, the darkness welcoming me. I can’t hear them. I can’t deal with them. She doesn’t know what she’s saying, who she’s dealing with—what she’s dealing with.

“No.” My voice is raw with pained disbelief. “You can’t love me, Ana. No. That’s wrong.”

I need to set her right on this. She cannot love a monster. She cannot love a fucked-up son of a bitch. She needs to go. She needs out—and in an instant, everything becomes crystal clear. This is my eureka moment; I can’t make her happy. I can’t be what she needs. I can’t let this go on. This has to finish. It should never have started.

“Wrong? Why’s it wrong?”

“Well, look at you. I can’t make you happy.” The anguish is plain in my voice as I sink deeper and deeper into the abyss, shrouded in despair.

No one can love me.

“But you do make me happy,” she says, not comprehending.

Anastasia Steele, look at yourself. I have to be honest with her. “Not at the moment. Not doing what I want to do.”

She blinks, her lashes fluttering over her large, wounded eyes, studying me intently as she searches for the truth. “We’ll never get past that, will we?”

I shake my head, because I can’t think of anything to say. It comes down to incompatibility, again. She closes her eyes, as if in pain, and when she opens them again, they are clearer, full of resolve. Her tears have stopped. And the blood starts pounding through my head as my heart hammers. I know what she’s going to say. I dread what she’s going to say.

“Well, I’d better go, then.” She winces as she sits up.

Now? She can’t go now.

“No, don’t go.” I’m free-falling, deeper and deeper. Her leaving feels like a monumental mistake. My mistake. But she can’t stay if she feels this way about me, she just can’t.