Chapter 149


    "Goodbye, Christian," I murmur.


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    "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 tofort him.


    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 aplete 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 nkly 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 unwee down my cheeks, and I wipe them


    away hurriedly with my fingers, scrambling in my bag for my sunsses. 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,


    deted 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 thoughtes from my inner


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


    handkerchief, and surrender myself to my grief.


    End of Part One


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