Fifty Shades of Commitment

17- not edited

As my eyes slowly blink in utter confusion, my mind tricking me into assuming I'm streched out in Christian's bed, a mess of chestnut brown hair and white sheets providing me shelter, a familiar warmth infiltrates me, exploring the pores between each bone of my spine and effortlessly clawing over my dog-tired muscles, surprisingly sore, judging from the gnawing feeling echoing through me as I strech my arms.

Moving my gaze sideways, I'm met with a softening flash of affection sparkling through tender grey eyes, a granite ash clouding and surrounding the iris located above foggy rings. It's obvious that Christian hasn't been having much sleep, if any at all.

"Ana?" His voice reverberates through me, a never-seen-before aprehension clouding the sound behind the hoarseness in it.

"Christian." As much hurt and pain he has put me through, relief and alleviation flood through me all at once. My virtual-and-realistically-impossible makeshift home.

But it's just that.

Makeshift.

"Oh thank god." The relief is evident, as he exhales an audible blow of breath.

Oh thank god. He cares about me?

Oh thank god. Where's his wife?

Oh thank god. Why is he putting me through the torture of being with him? Like in this position for example?

"Why-" I pause, catching a surprisingly needed breath. "Why are you doing this?"

He stifens, and just like that, I watch it all fall apart in slow motion, as he pushes himself away from me, his eyes glancing everywhere but me, until they eventually land on the cellphone by the bedside table, and judging by the 'baby' nickname, he's calling Paige. Eventually, I feel his eyes on me, but when I turn to match his gaze, I realize he's not actually looking at me, but at what's behind me, and as I try to follow his line of sight I am met with an annoyed and flaming Paige heading towards me, and that's when I know it's happening. This thing between Christian and me, whatever I though we still had or had hopes of restoring, was nothing but that- a thought. We weren't meant to be.

"What are you doing here you little bitch? Are you here to claw your way back into my husband's life, eh? Well, I want you out of the house. Now!" She screams, her gaze blazing with fury and pure venom, and I know she gave Christian the ultimatum. It's either her or me.

And as my mind dives into a whirlpool of thoughts, every happy moment we shared in the past four years clouding my fiber in every possible way, as everything passes through my eyes in a quickened glampse, Christian decides.

He turns to me, and with an impassive look, he chooses.

"You heard her."

And just like, the happy moments become sad ones, the thoughts turn depressive, the frantic beating of my heard goes numb, and my skin is painlessly skinned alive.

He made his choice.

And with that one, last, concluding thought, I stand up, gather my things, and exit his gaze.

I exit his bedroom.

I exit his penthouse.

I exit his building doors.

And with that, I also exit his life.

For good.

Because I finally gained my closure.

And for the first time in forever, with my handbag calmly resting on the curve of my elbow, I smile my first genuine smile.

I'm free.

~~~~~~~~

NOT TO BRAG OR ANYTHING BUT IM ACTUALLY REALLY PROUD OF THIS CHAPTER

smh