Grey Clouds On The Horizon

He Loves Me Not

Her bags were packed and she watched the bustling of downtown Seattle traffic hundreds of feet below her hotel window. As much as Emilia had resented the never ending rain and gray as far as her eyes could see, she would miss it. Not just because it was the place she'd called home but because of the man she was leaving behind in it. 

Em shook her head at the thought, feeling stupid and selfish for even imagining that Mr Grey ever gave a shit about her. "Christian doesn't love me." She whispered and paced the length of the room before sitting back on the edge of the bed. "I've never been what he wants... but Anastasia is."

Elliot shook his head and tried to think of something truthful he could say to make his best friend stay. "My brother is an asshole, I'll own that much. But give him some credit, Em. You've avoided him for years and if he knew why I'm sure things would be different. Christian doesn't try to be selfish. It just comes with the whole control thing... And even if he hated you, he doesn't own Seattle. You don't have to leave like he's the king or something banishing you."

Tears pricked the edges of her eyes and what was left of her open wounds stung. "There's nothing left for me here, Ells."

The blond haired man looked pained for a moment. "Not even me."

Em swallowed hard. "You know that I'm not good at this. The whole love thing. It's not me."

"Yes it is..."

"Look at Kate." Emilia stood up and tried to busy herself as if the conversation was as casual as talking about the weather. Her best friend couldn't know the way it tore her to pieces. "She is crazy about you, Ells. Sure, I'll admit Kavannagh annoys the hell out of me but she's good for you. Makes you a better person and all that crap. Those are the kinds of people you need to spend your Saturday nights with just sitting inside sipping wine. You're too old to be out with me and stalking the dance floor for fresh meat like some kind of predator. It's time for you to face the music and grow up."

"I can't do that with you?" His expression was hurt and baffled. "Why can't it be all of us meeting for dinners out and having game night? You won't even stand in the back of the room for my wedding. Do I honestly mean that little to you?"

Her eyes narrowed. "You know that's not true."

Elliot kicked the coffee table and the glass top rattled against it's frame. "Clearly it fucking is. You'd rather leave than face the fact that you've been lying to Christian. For a second, I can understand why. Then you have the audacity to say that you aren't capable of caring about people. That's bullshit, Em!"

"It's not."

"Yes it is!" He was fuming and ignored the ringing of his phone in his pocket. It was surely Kate, again. "The reason we're in his position is because you care too much to risk hurting anyone by admitting that you fucked up."

"We are not in any position." Em huffed. "I am. These are my choices and I'm the one who has to live with them."

Looking at his oldest friend, Elliot shrugged on his coat and kept his voice low to avoid waking the sleeping lump in the bed. "Fine, they are your choices. But don't pretend for a god damn minute that you're the only one that I has to live with them. If you go and I don't hear from you, I'll tell Christian everything. Fuck your secrets. They mean nothing to me anymore."

His coat tails were the last things Emilia saw before she curled up in the bed and sobbed quietly into the hotel pillow. The dark eye makeup she wore stained the white linens and, eyeing her burner phone in the corner of the room, she felt the need to call him. It wasn't too late. The passport that Demetri had printed for her with a new identity burned a hole in her pocket but she didn't have to use it. Getting on the flight that evening wasn't a choice in Dr Bowman's eyes but perhaps Miss Stewart was ready to be on her own. For the first time, maybe she was strong enough to run. 

Gathering up the necessities in her room, leaving most of the packed bags contents behind, she threw the documents in the hotel toilet tank with her cut up credit cards and identification. Em had no idea where she was going but she wouldn't be able to get here under the alias of Olivia Bowman.

The last thing she gathered from the hotel room was the cellphone she'd stowed under the bed with the SIM card pulled out. It was her's. Not a burner to run with or a line that belonged to the theatre. Just her own personal number. Besides Elliot Grey, there was only one other person who knew that number. And as that man stared out over the skyline from his bedroom window, he didn't notice the woman in a black coat pushing a stroller down the sidewalk. No one ever did. Emilia was great at making herself invisible.

Ana's POV

My husband woke me up, muttering to himself and sipping on a glass of scotch, while he strummed his fingers on the bedroom window. I watched him, not sure if I should intervene or let it go on. Stress radiated off of his body but I wasn't quite sure it's cause. It was either me or the girl that didn't want to be found. For a moment, I wondered which I would prefer. For him to be angry with me or care about her.  Not that it was a choice anymore. Knowing my husband loved another woman was a harsh reality I couldn't escape in my waking moments or my dreams.

He turned to me, worry in his eyes and looked surprised to see the whites of mine. "Anastasia, I'm sorry if I woke you. I didn't sleep well last night. Too busy thinking, I guess."

I rolled my eyes. "More like driving yourself crazy."

"Good point well made, Mrs Grey."

I watched the title roll off his tongue and wondered if I would own it much longer. The game of cat and mouse he planned with a mistress from another life left me wondering if I was enabling him to find an old friend or my replacement, a woman that would soon warm this side of his bed. 

Christian sat on the edge in navy suit pants and a white shirt putting on his socks. "Are you sure you're okay with me going back to work?" He asked, a 'v' of worry wedged between his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes. Go to work." I sat up in bed and put my legs over the side. My ridiculous, and entirely unnecessary, cane was leaned up against the bedpost. With a smirk I pushed it to the floor then watched it clatter. I stood up slowly then moved towards the walk in closet. My husband picked it up and followed me.

"That cane is supposed to steady you but it doesn't work when you throw it on the floor." His voice was sharp. "Do you want help to get dressed?" He asked and I held up a hand. "No?"

"I can do it." I pulled out some undergarments, skinny jeans and a nice blouse. I leaned against the wall as I stepped into the jeans and Christian studied me. I then managed to hook the bra myself, on the third or fourth try, and slip the blouse over my head. "See?" I'm not a total invalid.

Christian kissed me gently. "Beautiful job, my love. Do you need help putting up your hair?"

Admittedly, I hadn't quite regained the coordination to create a neat ponytail. "Yes, please." I sat on the bed closing my eyes at the relaxing feeling of the brush being pulled through my tangled locks. He put up my hair near the back top of my head. "Thank you." My hand found his and I gripped it tightly.

He kissed my knuckles. "It's really no problem. Are you sure you don't want me to stay home? I can wait to go back."

I pushed him away playfully. "No, go to work. We'll be tonight." Crap! Together. We'll be together tonight.

Christian furrowed his eyebrows, tucked in his shirt, zipped up his pants and shrugged on a navy suit jacket. "What are your plans today?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I'll probably read in my office." It's time for me to catch up on work as well.

"Good. I'm glad you're feeling up to it today." Christian smiled. "Can I take you out for lunch to celebrate the both of us going back to work?"

My face turned sour. "No, let's eat at home." I knew Gail could cook something better than most restaurants and our apartment wasn't full of people staring at our now heavily armed security staff.

Christian pulled out his phone and pressed the second number on his speed dial. "Taylor, I'm ready to go. Yes, leave Sawyer and Ryan to assist Mrs Grey. No, I'll be coming home for an hour at one." He hung up abruptly and led me to the living room where Taylor and Sawyer were already waiting. "Laters, Babe." He kissed my forehead, both my cheeks and my lips. "I love you."

Blood rushed up through my face. "I love you too."