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Sorry it’s taken me so long to get this chapter up! I feel like it’s been ages since I liveblogged anything.
ANYWAY, let’s get this show on the road!
There’s not much to recap, since the last chapter was the prologue and it was just a flashback to Christian’s childhood followed by a weird 3rd-person section about Christian and Ana cuddling in bed and discussing their wedding.
So we’ll just dive right in.
I stare up through gaps in the sea grass parasol at the bluest of skies, summer blue, Mediterranean blue with a contented sigh.
One line into the chapter and I already want to die.
Am I supposed to give a shit about the color of the goddamned sky? Because I don’t. I really, truly, from the bottom of my heart, don’t give a fuck.
Christian is beside me, stretched out on a sun lounger. My husband–my hot, beautiful husband, shirtless, and in cut-off jeans–is reading a book predicting the collapse of the Western banking system.
What is even happening. Is this…is this supposed to be character development? We’re getting this now?! At the beginning of the third and final book?? What.
And…wait a second…husband?
On the final leg of our honeymoon, we laze in the afternoon sun on the beach of the aptly named Beach Plaza Monte Carlo in Monaco, although we’re not actually staying in this hotel. I open my eyes and gaze out at the Fair Lady anchored in the harbor. We are staying, of course, on board a luxury motor yacht.
You have got to be kidding me.
Oh, of course you’re staying on a yacht. I mean, the only other alternative is staying in a beautiful, super-expensive resort, with all the common people. Gross.
In other news…
WHAT THE FUCK, E.L. YOU JUST SKIPPED THE WEDDING?! THE BIGGEST FUCKING EVENT TO TAKE PLACE IN THESE TWO IDIOTS’ LIVES?! AND YOU JUST…YOU JUST SKIPPED IT?
THAT’S LIKE SKIPPING THE BATTLE FOR HOGWARTS, OR THE BATTLE FOR MIDDLE EARTH. THAT’S LIKE WRITING A WHOLE BOOK ABOUT THE TITANIC AND THEN NOT SHOWING THE GODDAMNED SHIP SINKING.
THE PAST TWO BOOKS HAVE BEEN BUILDING TOWARDS THIS GODDAMNED MOMENT AND YOU FUCKING SKIP IT.
Sitting back, I listen to the Christian Grey mix on my new iPod and doze in the late afternoon sun, idly remembering his proposal. Oh his dreamy proposal in the boathouse…I can almost smell the scent of the meadow flowers…
Oh for the love of fuck. This whole bullshit is going to be told in flashbacks.
Apparently, after Christian’s proposal in the boathouse, they had sex on top of all the flowers that he packed in there, which doesn’t sound like the most comfortable thing in the world, but hey, do what you want.
Afterwards, they cuddle (still on top of the flowers) and start discussing wedding plans. They decide to get married at Christian’s parents’ house, and have a small-ish wedding, with just friends and family.
“So, we’ve established where, now the when.”
“Surely you should ask your mother.”
“Hmm.” Christian’s smile dips. “She can have a month, that’s it. I want you too much to wait any longer.”
Jesus fucking christ. A month? Do you know how fucking long it takes to plan a wedding, Christian? There’s the dresses, and the decorations, and invitations, and organizing catering…
Oh right, I forgot. Christian is fucking loaded. He can afford to have all of these things done quickly because money isn’t an issue for him.
I fucking hate Christian Grey so much. This asshole can afford to get married without having to worry about how he’s going to pay for it, meanwhile everyone I know who’s getting married or wants to get married has to pay for their wedding with half of their fucking souls.
Weddings are fucking expensive, and the fact that Christian can just magically afford one no problem pisses me off. What a rich bastard.
OH AND ANA IS JUST TOTALLY FINE WITH ONLY WAITING A MONTH.
YOU PEOPLE ARE FUCKING RIDICULOUS.
Oh, and now we go back to the beach, post-wedding.
WHO TOLD YOU THIS MOVEMENT OF TIME WAS OKAY?!
Typically, if you’re spending this much time in flashbacks, you should just TELL THE EVENTS IN THE FLASHBACKS FIRST AND THEN TALK ABOUT THE STUFF THAT HAPPENS LATER.
What do you think this is, fucking Memento?
“You’ll burn.” Christian whispers in my ear, startling me from my doze.
“Only for you.” I give him my sweetest smile.
You two are disgusting.
So Christian moves Ana’s parasol so she’s out of the sun, because apparently she can’t wear sunscreen like a normal fucking person or something.
Oh but wait, now she’s asking Christian to put sunscreen on her.
This book should come with a free bucket for all your vomit, I swear to god.
“Mrs. Grey, it’s a dirty job…but that’s an offer I can’t refuse. Sit up,” he orders, his voice husky. I do as I’m told, and with slow meticulous strokes from strong and supple fingers, he coats me in sunscreen.
“You really are very lovely. I’m a lucky man,” he murmurs as his fingers skim over my breasts, spreading the lotion.
UUUGHHHH THIS IS SO GROSS.
Also, is she not wearing a top? Or is he just smearing her bathing suit with sunscreen.
Oop, nope, she IS wearing a top, apparently, because this conversation ensues:
“How would you feel if I went topless, like the other women on the beach?” I ask.
“Displeased,” he says without hesitation. “I’m not very happy about you wearing so little right now.” He leans down and whispers in my ear. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Is that a challenge, Mr. Grey?”
“No. It’s a statement of fact, Mrs. Grey.”
You’re not happy that she’s wearing
(that you bought for her BTW)
at a beach.
What the FUCK is wrong with you, jesus. She’s not your fucking property dude. She’s a human goddamned being, and if she wants to take her top off on a topless beach (or really anywhere else), that’s her choice and you don’t get to say shit because she’s not a fucking possession that you can keep hidden in a back room of your disgustingly expensive penthouse. She’s a person, and she gets to decide how much of her own body gets exposed, and GUESS WHAT you don’t get to say shit.
But, even though Christian is basically threatening Ana, Ana still finds this exchange…endearing?
I sigh and shake my head. Oh Christian…my possessive, jealous, control freak Christian.
THESE ARE NOT GOOD QUALITIES TO HAVE IN A HUSBAND. WHY ARE YOU SAYING THIS LIKE IT’S A GOOD THING.
When he’s finished [applying the sunscreen], he slaps my behind.
“You’ll do, wench.”
IT’S LIKE E.L. JAMES TRIED TO WRITE THE MOST DISGUSTING CHARACTER SHE POSSIBLY COULD.
IT’S LIKE SHE SAID “HEY, LET’S COMBINE ALL OF THE THINGS CAITLIN HATES INTO ONE CHARACTER. WE’LL MAKE HIM ABSURDLY RICH FOR NO REASON, CONTROLLING, ABUSIVE, AND TO TOP IT ALL OFF LET’S MAKE HIM GROSSLY SEXIST ALL THE TIME. HE CAN USE THE WORD “WENCH” AS A JOKE TOO, IT’LL BE HILARIOUS. CAITLIN WILL LITERALLY COMBUST WITH RAGE.”
WELL IF THAT WAS THE PLAN, YOU SURE SUCCEEDED, E.L.
HERE’S AN AWARD FOR YOUR ACHIEVEMENTS:
Fucking hell. “Wench.” Seriously.
Ana falls back asleep.
She wakes up to Christian ordering a drink for her. He asks her to go swimming with him, and I guess when he stands up Ana is immediately reminded how attractive he is, to the point where she literally can’t form words.
Christian decides that, since she’s somehow unable to say yes or no to his swimming request, that must mean yes, so he picks her up and carries her to the water.
I get it, this is supposed to be a fun, playful joke. HOWEVER, due to Christian’s and Ana’s other, far more sexual (and far more alarming) encounters, I find this scene profoundly disturbing. What if Ana had said no? Would Christian have even listened? What if they weren’t talking about swimming, but were talking about other things? Christian’s actions wouldn’t seem so playful and (for some) endearing then, would they?
They get in the water, and Ana clearly wants to bone in the Mediterranean, but Christian says no.
“You’re very distracting.” Christian grazes his teeth along my lower lip. “But I’m not sure I want the good people of Monte Carlo to see my wife in the throes of passion.”
“Shall I take you in the sea?” he breathes.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Not right now. Not with an audience.”
CHRISTIAN IS REFUSING TO HAVE SEX WITH ANA RIGHT NOW, YOU GUYS.
YOU HEARD IT HERE FIRST: CHRISTIAN GREY HAS REFUSED TO HAVE SEX AT LEAST ONCE IN HIS LIFE.
[In case you’re curious, the […] in the above quote signifies various places where I’ve removed text, since I didn’t want to quote a page and a half on here. Trust me, you’re not missing anything interesting.]