((How cute is the picture?! Totally photoshopped lol))

*Flashback*

"Damn it! Ana, will you tell me what's wrong?" Christian pushes his empty plate away, irritated. I gaze at him. "Please. You're driving me crazy."

I swallow and try to subdue the panic rising in my throat. I take a deep steadying breath. It's now or never. "I'm pregnant."

He stills, and very slowly all the color drains from his face. "What?" he whispers, ashen.

"I'm pregnant."

His brow furrows with incomprehension. "How?"

How . . . how? What sort of ridiculous question is that? I blush, and give him a quizzical how-do-you-think look.

His stance changes immediately, his eyes hardening to flint. "Your shot?" he snarls.

Oh shit.

"Did you forget your shot?"

I just gaze at him unable to speak. Jeez, he's mad-really mad.

"Christ, Ana!" He bangs his fist on the table, making me jump, and stands so abruptly he almost knocks the dining chair over. "You have one thing, one thing to remember. Shit! I don't fucking believe it. How could you be so stupid?"

Stupid! I gasp. Shit. I want to tell him that the shot was ineffective, but words fail me. I gaze down at my fingers. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Sorry? Fuck!" he says again.

"I know the timing's not very good."

"Not very good!" he shouts. "We've known each other five fucking minutes. I wanted to show you the fucking world and now . . . Fuck. Diapers and vomit and shit!" He closes his eyes. I think he's trying to contain his temper and losing the battle.

"Did you forget? Tell me. Or did you do this on purpose?" His eyes blaze and anger emanates off him like a force field.

"No," I whisper. I can't tell him about Hannah-he'd fire her. I know.

"I thought we'd agreed on this!" he shouts.

"I know. We had. I'm sorry."

He ignores me. "This is why. This is why I like control. So shit like this doesn't come along and fuck everything up."

No . . . Little Blip. "Christian, please don't shout at me." Tears start to slip down my face.

"Don't start with waterworks now," he snaps. "Fuck." He runs a hand through his hair, pulling at it as he does. "You think I'm ready to be a father?" His voice catches, and it's a mixture of rage and panic.

And it all becomes clear, the fear and loathing writ large in his eyes-his rage is that of a powerless adolescent. Oh, Fifty, I am so sorry. It's a shock for me, too.

"I know neither one of us is ready for this, but I think you'll make a wonderful father," I choke. "We'll figure it out."

"How the fuck do you know!" he shouts, louder this time. "Tell me how!"

His gray eyes burn, and so many emotions cross his face. It's fear that's most prominent.

"Oh fuck this!" Christian bellows dismissively and holds his hands up in a gesture of defeat. He turns on his heel and stalks toward the foyer, grabbing his jacket as he leaves the great room. His footsteps echo off the wooden floor, and he disappears through the double doors into the foyer, slamming the door behind him and making me jump once more.

I am alone with the silence-the still, silent emptiness of the great room. I shudder involuntarily as I gaze numbly at the closed doors. He's walked out on me.

Christian's POV

All I can see is red. I hop into the first car I pass, push the start button, and race out of the garage to who knows where. The road is a blur and the lights seem to represent the thoughts in my head. Bluring together, racing around, and disappearing into a dark oblivion. That comparison may be a little out there, but I have to think about anything besides Ana and the...I don't even know. I finally have my shaking under control and pull into the first empty parking lot I see.

"How the fuck could this happen to me?" I yell out into the closed space of my car and rest my head against the steering wheel. Deep breath, keep breathing, clear your mind.

I need Flynn.

I pull out my phone and call Flynn on speed dial. It rings about five times, and just when I think I'm going to get voice mail, his voice fills my ears.

"Christian? Is everything okay?" I run my hand over my face before answering the man.

"I really need to talk to someone, are you at your office?" I all but cross my fingers in hopes that he is available this late at night.

"I'm sorry Christian, I'm at a school function for the kids." Great. A child is about to take my wife from me and now children have stolen my shrink.

Isn't that just fucking ironic?

I toss my phone into the passenger seat and sit there steaming.

I need to calm down. We need to discuss possible options. I need a drink. I need to hit something. I need to punish her for stepping so far out of line.

When I look up at my surroundings, I'm in an unfamiliar part of town. I don't think I care. I shut the engine off, step out of the car, and slam the door as I start heading north.

At least I think it's north. I can't seem to keep anything straight.

My brain seems to be fried or at least a bowl of spaghetti. How? I can't seem to stop asking myself that question.

Why? I keep yelling at Ana in my head. I wish she would have told me at a different time or at least come after me. But then again, I shouldn't have left. If I didn't leave though, I would have said some things I would regret and hurt her more than I already have.

I continue walking staring at the concrete, people, and buildings, not really taking anything in.

The only time my feet stop and I take note of where I am, I am in front of the salon, about five feet from Elena who is walking out of the building and locking it up.

When she turns to climb into her car, I catch her eye and she jumps. Yeah, Elena, I'm shocked too.

"Christian?" She calls out, and I step away from the shadows. "Is everything okay?"

I can't formulate any words to form a sentence. My hands are shaking, so I stuff them in my jacket pockets in hope she doesn't pick up on my mood.

She does.

She tilts her head to the side with a knowing look on her face. She walks up to me and takes in my frazzled state.

"Do you want to go grab a drink?" I think it over for a minute before nodding my head. One drink couldn't hurt.

We choose to go to a quiet high class bar I know and order a bottle of their finest Armand de Brignac champagne.

Once the waiter presents us with the bottle and leaves the closed off VIP seating area awkward silence falls over the two of us. I'm not going to be the first to talk, so instead I down the whole glass of wine and pour my second.

Elena clears her throat and scoots just a fragment closer to me.

"Christian, I cannot read your mind, so I'm not sure what has made you so upset that you agreed to have a drink with me, but I am deeply sorry for how I behaved when I last saw you and Anastasia." I almost feel my heart break at the mention of her name. The other feeling seeping from the cracks is anger.

"I can't even express how...embarrassed and hurt I am that your mother has terminated any kind of friendship we had. It's definitely restructured my social circle, but I guess I can understand." She folds her hands on the table and waits for me to respond.

I lick my lips and nod my head. This topic is making me more uncomfortable than I already am, so I change it.

"How are the salons doing?" For the first time since we sat down I look her in the eyes.

"Their going good, in spite of the recession, we had to let a few people go, but it didn't damage any income or-"

"Ana wants kids." I blurt out. No way in hell am I actually going to tell Elena that Ana is pregnant.

"Is...is that why you're wandering the streets this late at night?"

"Yeah. And, apparently, she wants them soon." Like in nine months.

"Did you explain that's a hard limit for you?" She scoots closer again and I eye her proximity. She doesn't seem to notice.

"The thing is," Now that my mind and vision is clearer, there might be one trillionth of a centimeter of me that wants this too. "I don't really know why I'm being this hard on her, myself, and even the idea of eventually having a family."

I don't even know we are finished with the first bottle until the waiter gives us another bottle. The minute he opens it, I fill my glass to the brim. I can feel my body becoming more relaxed than usual and my mind becomes a little fuzzy. I hate drunks, but this feels nice.

Elena pours herself another glass full and scoots about three inches over to be right next to me. She makes sure her leg doesn't touch mine neither does her shoulder, but she turns to face me and there is a look in here eyes I haven't seen in a while. I'm not sure what exactly that look means anymore.

"Christian, I think-"She places her hand on my thigh. I freeze.

Apparently my reaction isn't the one she was expecting. After she sees how I recoiled from her touch, she retracts her hands. The shock on her face doesn't dissolve when she moves her hand to my cheek.

Again, I jump away from her.

"Christian." She says and leans in, but this time I actually push her back. The fucking nerve she has!

"Elena, I love Anastasia. I love my wife, and you just crossed a line. I haven't thought about you like that in years." I say.

The look of shock and confusion leaves her face about as soon as it came on. She clears her throat and moves away from me.

"I'm sorry. It wouldn't have meant anything anyway right?" She lets out a nervous laugh. "Besides, I love Isaac and I'm perfectly happy with the business. I don't wish any ill will on you or Ana." She pauses to make double sure she has my attention. "Christian, as long as I'm being honest here, I've missed your friendship and what we had, but it is more than obvious that your life revolves around Anastasia now." I really want to smart off to her, but I let her continue. "I do admit it was a little awkward between the three of us during our last little run in, then again I guess I can understand that too."

Elena stands from the booth, grabs her bag, and dusts off her skirt. "I've always only wanted you to be happy, Christian. Now, I know you are." She extends her hand and I eye it wearily. "I just hope it stays that way." She pushes her hand further towards me. "I guess this is goodbye, Christian."

I grasp her hand and give it a firm shake. "Goodbye, Elena." This is our final goodbye. I hope she knows that.

"Christian, I am truly amazed at the man you have become." She nods her head and, with that being the last gesture, she walks away from the booth and walks out the door.

As I watch the doors close behind her, it's as if a hundred pounds have been lifted from my shoulders.

My eyes drift to the remaining half of the second bottle of wine.

Drinking the rest of it wouldn't hurt.

Ana's POV

Something wakes me. A sound.

"Shit!"

It's Christian in the foyer. I hear the table scrape across the floor again.

"Shit!" he repeats, more muffled this time.

I scramble up in time to see him stagger through the double doors. He's drunk. My scalp prickles. Shit, Christian drunk? I know how much he hates drunks. I leap up and run toward him.

"Christian, are you okay?"

He leans against the jamb of the foyer doors. "Mrs. Grey," he slurs.

Crap. He's very drunk. I don't know what to do.

"Oh . . . you look mighty fine, Anastasia."

"Where have you been?"

He puts his fingers to his lips and smiles crookedly at me. "Shh!"

"I think you'd better come to bed."

"With you . . ." He snickers.

Snickering! Frowning, I gently put my arm around his waist because he can hardly stand, let alone walk. Where has he been? How did he get home?

"Let me help you to bed. Lean on me."

"You are very beautiful, Ana." He leans onto me and sniffs my hair, almost knocking both of us over.

"Christian, walk. I am going to put you to bed."

"Okay," he says as if he's trying to concentrate.

We stumble down the corridor and finally make it into the bedroom.

"Bed," he says, grinning.

"Yes, bed." I maneuver him to the edge, but he holds me.

"Join me," he says.

"Christian, I think you need some sleep."

"And so it begins. I've heard about this."

I frown. "Heard about what?"

"Babies mean no sex."

"I'm sure that's not true. Otherwise we'd all come from one-child families."

He gazes down at me. "You're funny."

"You're drunk."

"Yes." He smiles, but his smile changes as he thinks about it, and a haunted expression crosses his face, a look that chills me to the bone.

"Come on, Christian," I say gently. I hate his expression. It speaks of horrid, ugly memories that no child should see. "Let's get you into bed." I push him gently, and he flops down onto the mattress, sprawling in all directions and grinning up at me, his haunted expression gone.

"Join me," he slurs.

"Let's get you undressed first."

He grins widely, drunkenly. "Now you're talking."

Holy cow. Drunk Christian is cute and playful. I'll take him over mad-as-hell Christian anytime.

"Sit up. Let me take your jacket off."

"The room is spinning."

Shit . . . is he going to throw up? "Christian, sit up!"

He smirks up at me. "Mrs. Grey, you are a bossy little thing . . ."

"Yes. Do as you're told and sit up." I put my hands on my hips. He grins again, struggles up onto his elbows then sits up in a most unChristian-like, gawky fashion. Before he can flop down again, I grab his tie and wrestle him out of his gray jacket, one arm at a time.

"You smell good."

"You smell of hard liquor."

"Yes . . . bour-bon." He pronounces the syllables with such exaggeration that I have to stifle a giggle. Discarding his jacket on the floor beside me, I make a start on his tie. He rests his hands on my hips.

"I like the feel of this fabric on you, Anastay-shia," he says, slurring his words. "You should always be in satin or silk." He runs his hands up and down my hips then jerks me forward, pressing his mouth against my belly.

"And we have an invader in here."

I stop breathing. Holy cow. He's talking to Little Blip.

"You're going to keep me awake, aren't you?" he says to my belly.

Oh my. Christian looks up at me through his long dark lashes, gray eyes blurred and cloudy. My heart constricts.

"You'll choose him over me," he says sadly.

"Christian, you don't know what you're talking about. Don't be ridiculous-I am not choosing anyone over anyone. And he might be a she."

He frowns. "A she . . . Oh, God." He flops back down on to the bed and covers his eyes with his arm. I have managed to loosen his tie. I undo one shoelace and yank off his shoe and sock, then the other. When I stand, I see why I've met no resistance-Christian has passed out completely. He's sound asleep and snoring softly.

I stare at him. He's so goddamned beautiful, even drunk and snoring

***

"Christian, we need to talk about this."

He stills. "What's there to say? We're going to be parents." He shrugs, desperately trying to look nonchalant, but all I can see is his fear. Pushing the tray aside, I crawl down the bed to him and take his hands in mine.

"You're scared," I whisper. "I get it."

He gazes at me, impassive, his eyes wide and all his earlier boyishness stripped away.

"I am, too. That's normal," I whisper.

"What kind of father could I possibly be?" His voice is hoarse, barely audible.

"Oh, Christian." I stifle a sob. "One that tries his best. That's all any of us can do."

"Ana-I don't know if I can . . ."

"Of course you can. You're loving, you're fun, you're strong, you'll set boundaries. Our child will want for nothing."

He's frozen, staring at me, doubt etched on his beautiful face.

"Yes, it would have been ideal to have waited. To have longer, just the two of us. But we'll be three of us, and we'll all grow up together. We'll be a family. Our own family. And your child will love you unconditionally, like I do." Tears spring to my eyes.

"Oh, Ana," Christian whispers, his voice anguished and pained. "I thought I'd lost you. Then I thought I'd lost you again. Seeing you lying on the ground, pale and cold and unconscious-it was all my worst fears realized. And now here you are-brave and strong . . . giving me hope. Loving me after all that I've done."

"Yes, I do love you, Christian, desperately. I always will."

Gently taking my head between his hands, he wipes my tears away with his thumbs. He gazes into my eyes, gray to blue, and all I see is his fear and wonder and love.

"I love you, too," he breathes. And he kisses me sweetly, tenderly like a man who adores his wife. "I'll try to be a good father," he whispers against my lips.

"You'll try, and you'll succeed. And let's face it; you don't have much choice in the matter, because Blip and I are not going anywhere."

"Blip?"

"Blip."

He raises his eyebrows. "I had the name Junior in my head."

"Junior it is, then."

"But I like Blip." He smiles his shy smile and kisses me once more.

(( CREDIT FOR THIS CHAPTER GOES TO EL JAMES. The only part I wrote was Christian's POV, obviously because it was terrible compared to the rest. I felt the need to give you some back ground for this chapter in case any of you had forgotten.

Thanks for reading!))