Fifty Shades: Submission and Strength

Chapter 24

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, here it is — their big "come-to-Jesus" moment. I hope it lived up to everyone's expectations. I worked hard on it so please be kind :) There are only about four more chapters after this as they build their relationship and Ana gets the help she needs. I don't want to drag this story out (I can't believe I'm already at nearly 60,000 words!). Please let me know your thoughts and thank you everyone for the personal notes after the last chapter. It really means a lot that my story has touched people so personally.

Ana woke up with Christian coiled around her like a boa constrictor. It felt suffocating. The effects of the alcohol had worn off and reality was setting in. Ana's mind reeled as she played back the night's events — from being paraded around in front of Seattle's elite to meeting Christian's family to seeing her face splashed across the world wide web.

The chirping cicadas and occasional blare of a car horn outside couldn't drown out the voices in her head.

How am I in bed with a billionaire who also happens to be one of the most wonderful people on the planet? This isn't my life. What is Christian's endgame here? Does he really think someone as disturbed as me can somehow fit into his world? For God's sake, I just told him I watch sunsets to essentially prevent myself from slitting my throat. I literally confided my suicide prevention techniques to him! He has to think I'm officially certifiable by now. Yet no matter what I say, it doesn't seem to scare him off. This amazing man has so much faith in me, but he gives me too much credit. He assumes I'm strong, but I'll only disappoint him in the long run.

I saw my mother. I saw Molly. I know how mental illness works. You never really defeat it, no matter what the pharmaceutical companies would have you believe. It's like any other disease — you can control it, but it's always there, lurking beneath the surface of your somewhat-content existence, just waiting to rear its ugly head when you least expect it. Alone I can deal with that uncertainty, but to subject someone else to that shit? Especially someone as kind-hearted and selfless as Christian? Hell to the no!

The most I can offer a man like him is my submission. It's not only what's best for him — it's what's best for me. I can't start deluding myself into thinking I'm his equal, that my life is going to somehow magically transform overnight because I'm a good lay in bed. Why would I do that to myself? It makes no sense. The minute you start wanting to be happy, you're disappointed when you're not. The solution? Don't get your hopes up in the first place.

I mean, it's not like I aspire to be president. It doesn't even enter into my realm of consciousness. And that's a good thing! Because lo and behold, when I find my ass in a cramped studio apartment instead of the White House, I won't be disappointed. Duh! It's not rocket science. It's the same thing with Christian. Do I really think we're going to get married and have two kids and a dog behind a multimillion-dollar white picket fence? The storybook Dom-saves-sub romance? Why would I wish for something that's completely and utterly unattainable? I'm a lot of things but dumb isn't one of them. So why would I set myself up for failure like some idiot?

I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't keep stringing him along — stringing myself along. We'll both get hurt. I'm a submissive. I can't keep pretending to be something I'm not. It's not fair to him and it's not fair to me.

Restless, Ana slipped out of bed, inadvertently waking Christian.

"What's wrong? Where are you going?" he said, groggily rubbing his eyes.

"Back to my room."

"Don't be silly Ana. Just lay down."

"No I can't. This is your room. I shouldn't be here," Ana said, slowly backing away and ratcheting up his frustration.