Fifty Shades Forgiven

Good Intentions

It's my fault. It's all my fucking fault. Me and my big mouth. My tears are flow uncontrollably as I watch Christian struggling to reach the float. A wave of nausea hits me as I witness the horror show in front of me. What have I done?

Taylor is shouting Christian, urging him to hold onto the float. I am struggling to breathe and I can't physically talk. Hysteria has consumed me. Christian's hand emerges from the water as he grasps hold of the ring, with his other arm he holds Ted up out of the water, close to his body. My boy. He's got him. Why isn't he crying? Why can't I hear him? He should be crying. Please god let my baby be okay! Taylor pulls the ring towards the boat until it comes to a halt next to us. Christian holds Ted up as Taylor takes him from his arms, placing him on the deck in front of me before helping Christian up.

My son lies limply on the floor. He isn't moving. His copper coloured hair is darkened by the water and his face is pale. No! No no no! Teddy please wake up. I wail as I stroke his face. Wake up baby please, wake up. I love you. Please.

As Christian comes to lean next to us he shuffles Teddy out of his life jacket, he props him up in his arms, gently shaking him and patting his back.

"Come on son, wake up" he whispers, breathless and anxious. His face is etched with terror.

He taps him on the back several times more. My heart is being torn as I watch. Suddenly, Ted starts coughing uncontrollably, spluttering up water. He's alive! Oh thank god! My baby. My boy. Fireworks erupt inside me. As the last of the water comes up from inside him he whimpers weakly in Christian's arms. Taylor returns with a handful of towels. I didn't even realise he wasn't there. His little whining upsets me, knowing that he's frightened and hurt, but I have never been grateful of such a sound, confirmation that my boy is in fact alive.

"It's okay Ted I've got you, daddy's got you" Christian says to him repeatedly. I sniffle in between sobs, trying to control my tears. Christian stands with Ted in his arms, he's floppy and uncoordinated. I remain seated on the floor as I watch Christian carry his mini-me inside. I hear him mutter something to Taylor.

"Get Ana inside" he whispers.

Taylor approaches me, his face is sad and sympathetic. He holds out his hand for me as I take it, whilst he uses his spare arm to hook under mine, lifting me effortlessly off of the boat floor. There are splashes of water up my jeans and on my knees where I was sitting in the puddle. I'm emotionally drained. I brought this on myself. What the hell is wrong with me? My stupid grudges and jealousy almost cost me my son's life.

The atmosphere in cabin is pessimistic. I feel hollow, like all of my insides have been carved out. Christian is sitting on the modern, sleek couch with Ted in his arms. He's stripped out of his soggy clothes and he's wrapped him in a large, fluffy towel, holding him close to his body. He's mumbling something under his breath go Ted but I can't quite make out what it is, but Ted is responding, slightly nodding his head.

"How is he?" I ask softly.

"He's okay, we'll still need to take him to the hospital and get him checked over" he replies, but he doesn't look at me. Shit. He must be really angry with me.

I walk over to where they're seated, and perch next to them. I run my hand through Ted's hair and down his cheek. His hair is still wet and cold. His feel like ice and he's shivering, of course the water would have been nippy. My poor baby. I have never felt like this, so close to losing something so special to me. Apart from once.

"I'm just going to get him warm and dry then I'll dress him, it's lucky that we aren't far" he explains.

"Here, let me, I'll do it, you're soaking" I say. No wonder he's still cold.