Guys. GUYS. We only have 5 more chapters left after this one. There’s only 25 official chapters in this book. I mean, there’s an epilogue, and 3 bonus chapters (uuugggghhhhh why) BUT. ONLY 5 MORE AFTER THIS ONE. IT’S ALMOST A MIRACLE.
But, first we have to get through this chapter. So let’s get on with it, shall we?
RECAP: So Ray wakes up, and its all emotional (I guess), which OF COURSE means it’s time for Ana and Christian to go back to the hotel to have some kinky sex. However, Christian actually asks for consent before the kinky sex starts, which is MIND-BLOWING to me. I’m not going to recap the sex, but just know that I made a drinking game and we all took a lot of drinks. They finish, they cuddle, Christian reminds us that he is A Very Sad And Broken Man™. Ana grossly talks about how she’s going to give Christian a blowjob, and then we (thankfully) get a scene change. A detective comes later to talk to Ana about Jack Hyde, who is apparently trying to claim that Ana assaulted HIM, which is ridiculous. Christian valiantly holds back and doesn’t lose his mind, although he DOES admit to having all of Hyde’s former PA’s talked to, just “Because my wife worked for him, and I run security checks on anyone my wife works with.” Because that’s not a creepy red flag at all, buddy. We get a scene change, and Ana is at a different hospital with Ray, because Christian had him moved. Ana gets a call, but ignores it, and then leaves, only to run into her OB/GYN, who informs her that Ana has missed FOUR APPOINTMENTS FOR HER BIRTH CONTROL SHOTS. Just to be safe, the doctor has Ana take a pregnancy test. Of course, the test says that ANA IS FUCKING PREGNANT HOLY SHIT.
I’m not even being hyperbolic here, I literally CANNOT FUCKING WAIT to read this next chapter.
I gape at Dr. Greene, my world collapsing around me. A baby. A baby. I don’t want a baby…not yet. Fuck. And I know deep down that Christian is going to freak.
Really? You know that “deep down?” Because I know that right up fucking front, because your husband is a psychotic nightmare who can barely control his emotions when you wear a skirt that’s too short. God help you when he hears about THIS mess.
“Mrs. Grey, you’re very pale. Would you like a glass of water?”
“Please.” My voice is barely audible. My mind is racing. Pregnant? When?
Probably during all the sex you’ve been having? “Gosh, how did I get pregnant! I’ve only been having wild sex all the time recently!”
“We could do an ultrasound to see how advanced the pregnancy is. Judging by your reaction, I suspect you’re just a couple of weeks or so from conception–four or five weeks pregnant. I take it you haven’t been suffering any other symptoms?”
I shake my head mutely. Symptoms? I don’t think so. “I thought…I thought this was a reliable form of contraceptive.”
Dr. Greene arches a brow. “It normally is, when you remember to have the shot,” she says coolly.”
GET WRECKED, ANA.
What the fuck do you mean, “I thought it was a reliable form of contraceptive?” Like???? Stop????? You sound like a guy who just got stabbed with a sword saying “I thought my shield was reliable???” and the guy who stabbed him goes “It is…when you’re fucking holding it up you piece of shit.”
Come on, Ana. Did the sex ed system fail you THAT BADLY?
…To be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised. Sex Ed in America is TERRIBLE.
HEY KIDS! A QUICK NOTE FROM GOOD OL’ MOMMA CAITLIN! There are lots of birth control methods of varying degrees of effectiveness, and it’s up to YOU AND YOUR DOCTOR to understand the differences and understand how each one works! And if you miss 4 doses of any birth control method other than something like an IUD, your chances of getting pregnant go WAY THE FUCK UP!!!! PLEASE BE EDUCATED ABOUT YOUR BC METHOD AND DON’T LET YOUR BOYFRIEND PRESSURE YOU INTO GETTING A SPECIFIC BC METHOD THAT YOU’RE NOT FAMILIAR/COMFORTABLE WITH!!!!!
So Dr. Greene suggests doing an ultrasound, because apparently she’s not busy at all and only exists to contribute to Ana’s plotline. But this isn’t a regular ultrasound, this is an advanced ultrasound.
“If you could lift and bend your knees, then part them wide,” she says matter-of-factly.
I frown warily.
This is a transvaginal ultrasound. If you’re only just pregnant, we should be able to find the baby with this.” She holds up a long white probe.
Oh, you have got to be kidding me!
Okay, a couple things.
First of all, A LITTLE WARNING WOULD BE FUCKING NICE? Like, Dr. Greene, why didn’t you just say “Hey, wanna do a transvaginal ultrasound? Let me explain what that is first!” You are a TERRIBLE doctor. “We’re gonna do this procedure, but what actually happens during the procedure is a SURPRISE!!” What the fuck.
Ana, your husband has a giant alien dick, I have a hard time believing that this “long white probe” is that much different from having sex with Christian, unless you have been WILDLY exaggerating the size of his downstairs business…which, honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised at.
“Mrs. Grey, if you could relax.”
Relax? I’m pregnant, damn it! How do you expect me to relax? I blush, and endeavor to find my happy place…which has relocated somewhere near the lost Island of Atlantis.
Literally what does that even mean. I know this is supposed to be all dramatic or whatever but I’m just kind of like “…yeah yeah whatever you’re an idiot anyway moving on.”
Slowly and gently she inserts the probe.
Please don’t have a weird orgasm because of this ultrasound. I know that whenever Christian so much as breathes on you, you explode, but please, for all our sakes, hold it in this one time.
All I can see on the screen is the visual equivalent of white noise–although it’s more sepia in color. Slowly, Dr. Greene moves the probe about, and it’s very disconcerting.
WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN. YOU CAN’T JUST SAY “DISCONCERTING” AND LEAVE IT AT THAT?????
Listen, friends, if you’re writing a story, you can’t just say “And then it was *insert descriptor here*.” That’s boring and dumb and bad, usually. That’s like saying “And then he got stabbed and it hurt.” It’s lazy, and bad, and don’t do it ever.
Instead of saying it was disconcerting, you could AT LEAST give us a quick explanation of WHY it’s disconcerting. What about it is disconcerting??? Like, come on, this is Writing 101. Show, don’t tell. Ugh.
“There,” she murmurs. She presses a button, freezing the picture on the screen, and points to a tiny blip in the sepia storm.
It’s a little blip. There’s a tiny little blip in my belly. Tiny. Wow.
“It’s too early to see the heartbeat, but yes, you’re definitely pregnant. Four or five weeks, I would say.” She frowns. “Looks like the shot ran out early. Oh well, that happens sometimes.”
THAT’S YOUR RESPONSE?
“Oops, you’re pregnant! Oh well!”
WHAT THE FUCK??? THIS IS THE WORST DOCTOR EVER????
I am too stunned to say anything. The little blip is a baby. A real honest to goodness baby. Christian’s baby. My baby. Holy cow. A baby!
Yes, it’s a baby. I get it. We all get it. You’re pregnant. This is no longer news.
So then Dr. Greene prints out a picture for Ana to take home, and IMMEDIATELY jumps into pregnancy talk. She says they need to set another appointment in a few weeks to check up on things and set a likely due date, and she says she wants Ana to start taking prenatal vitamins and gives Ana a leaflet of “dos and don’ts.”
Ok, look, I get it. I get that not everyone is pro-choice. Lots of people are anti-abortion, and I understand that abortion isn’t for everyone, but IT ISN’T EVEN MENTIONED AS A FUCKING OPTION???? MAYBE ANA ISN’T READY TO HAVE THIS BABY??? It is still WELL within the timeframe where an abortion could be performed. It’s too early for a heartbeat even? Like, it’s not even a baby at this point. It’s a blip, as Ana calls it, a bundle of cells.
Even if Ana doesn’t want to get an Abortion, it could still be offered as an option, and then Ana could be like “No, no, I don’t want that,” or something? Like, at least BRING IT THE FUCK UP.
I’m going to scream.
That’s a lie. I’m already screaming.
So then Ana just…fucking…leaves? They don’t discuss her options at all? Adoption? Anything? She was CLEARLY surprised about this baby, any good doctor would, I don’t know, ACTUALLY OFFER HER SOME FUCKING ADVICE?
I’m gripped suddenly by a creeping cold and deep sense of foreboding. Christian is going to freak, I know, but how much and how far, I have no idea. His words haunt me. “I’m not ready to share you yet.” I pull my jacket tighter around me, trying to shake off the cold.
ALRIGHT, LOOK FRIENDS.
IF YOU FIND OUT YOU’RE PREGNANT.
AND YOUR MAIN CONCERN
IS THAT YOUR PARTNER IS GOING TO FREAK OUT
MAYBE YOUR PARTNER IS A BAG OF BURNING SHIT-COCKS????
Ana isn’t concerned that she’s not ready to be a mom, she’s not concerned that they’re not prepared to take care of a baby, her ONLY CONCERN is that CHRISTIAN WILL FREAK OUT, and then she is “haunted” by his words and LITERALLY PULLS HER JACKET TIGHTER AROUND HER BECAUSE SHE’S SO FREAKED OUT BY THIS CONCEPT.
I don’t know how much clearer you need to get. I get it, finding out your pregnant can be terrifying if you’re not ready, and being scared is totally normal, but BEING SCARED OF YOUR PARTNER’S REACTION is definitely NOT normal, what the ACTUAL FUCK.
I’m like, 2 pages into this chapter, you guys. I’m already so pissed. My beer is almost empty and I am already out of fucks to give.
This isn’t going to end well for me. Or Ana, truthfully.
Ana gets in the car and tells Sawyer to take her back to work at SIP. She then sits in the back seat and dives into solemn contemplation.
I should be happy. I know I should be happy. But I’m not. This is too early. Far too early. What about my job? What about SIP? What about Christian and me? No. No. No. We’ll be fine. He’ll be fine. He loved baby Mia–I remember Carrick telling me–he dotes on her now. Perhaps I should warn Flynn…Perhaps I shouldn’t tell Christian. Perhaps I…perhaps I should end this. I halt my thoughts on that dark path, alarmed at the direction they’re taking. Instinctively my hand sweeps down to rest protectively over my belly. No. My little Blip.
IT’S JUST A BUNDLE OF CELLS???? IT DOESN’T EVEN HAVE A HEARTBEAT??? YOU CAN HAVE ANOTHER BABY LATER???????????????????????
Or like, fuck, give it up for adoption? You’re CLEARLY not prepared for this situation, and Christian is SCARING YOU, why the FUCK would you EVER bring a FUCKING CHILD INTO THAT SITUATION?? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU??????????????????????
If you’re so scared that you are considering NOT TELLING YOUR HUSBAND THAT YOU’RE PREGNANT, there is something SERIOUSLY FUCKING WRONG WITH YOUR RELATIONSHIP.
So then Ana starts daydreaming about a little boy who looks like Christian running through a meadow and Christian being all fatherly. But then the scene turns dark…
My vision morphs into Christian turning away from me in disgust. I’m fat and awkward, heavy with child. He paces the long hall of mirrors, away from me, the sound of his footsteps echoing off the silvered glass, walls, and floor. Christian…
THIS SHOULD NOT BE A CONCERN THAT YOU’RE HAVING.
YOU’RE NOT FAT, YOU’RE PREGNANT.
AND EVEN IF YOU WERE FAT, YOUR HUSBAND SHOULDN’T JUST FUCKING LEAVE YOU BECAUSE THERE’S NOTHING WRONG WITH BEING FAT EITHER??????????
I’M SO FUCKING MAD YOU GUYS.
I HAVEN’T BEEN THIS MAD IN SEVERAL CHAPTERS.
IT’S 10 PM ON A WEDNESDAY AND I MIGHT NEED TO OPEN A NEW BEER BECAUSE I’M SO MAD AT EVERYTHING THAT’S HAPPENING RIGHT NOW.
IF YOU COULD HEAR INSIDE MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW, IT WOULD JUST BE CONSTANT PTERODACTYL-LIKE SCREECHING.
There’s just so much wrong here…I can’t…I don’t even know what to say anymore. Except fuck this. Fuck all of this.
So then Ana gets to work and starts interrogating her assistant, asking if she’s moved or cancelled any appointments with Dr. Greene. Apparently Hannah HAS cancelled 2-3 of these, because Ana was in other meetings or busy. So of course it’s HANNAH’S fault that Ana is pregnant, because there’s no possible way that Ana could have KEPT TRACK OF HER OWN FUCKING DOCTOR’S APPOINTMENTS? I MEAN, WHAT DO THE REST OF US PEASANT WOMEN DO WITHOUT ASSISTANTS MAKING OUR CALENDARS FOR US? IF I HAD AN ASSISTANT, I WOULD DEFINITELY PUT THEM IN CHARGE OF HANDLING MY INTIMATE MEDICAL APPOINTMENTS, BECAUSE MY POOR LITTLE WOMEN’S BRAIN CAN’T HANDLE IT ON MY OWN.
Hannah leaves to go make some tea.
I gaze after her departing figure. “You see that woman?” I talk quietly to the Blip. “She might be the reason you’re here.”
NO. YOU’RE PREGNANT BECAUSE YOU WERE PRESSURED INTO GOING ON A BIRTH CONTROL METHOD THAT YOU KNEW NOTHING ABOUT, AND THAT YOU SUBSEQUENTLY FAILED TO KEEP TRACK OF!!!!!!! THIS IS NO ONE ELSE’S FAULT BUT CHRISTIAN’S AND YOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ana opens up her computer and already finds an email from Christian, saying he misses her already, even though they’ve only been apart for THREE FUCKING HOURS. He says he’ll pick her up around 6 pm, and then they can go visit Ray again. Ana just replies “Sure,” and nothing else, even though I’m sure that will send Christian into maximum overdrive crazy.
Christian immediately replies “Are you ok?” Ana has some internal dialogue talking about how she’s not ok, how she’s freaking out, but instead of you know, TALKING TO HER HUSBAND ABOUT IT, she emails him back saying “Fine. Just busy. See you at six.”
I’M SURE HE’LL HANDLE THIS JUST FINE.
We cut to later, when Ana gets in the car. She’s clearly upset, and to Christian’s credit he’s worried about her, and asks her what’s wrong. She lies, of course, and says she’s just missed him and she’s worried about Ray. Good job, Ana. Don’t tell your husband that you’re pregnant. I’m sure waiting to tell him will be a GREAT idea.
“Boy, your hand is cold. Have you eaten today?”
“Ana,” Christian scolds me, annoyed.
Well, I haven’t eaten because I know you’re going to go bat-shit crazy when I tell you I’m pregnant.
“I’ll eat this evening. I haven’t really had time.”
IF YOU ARE THIS SCARED TO TELL HIM, THAT MEANS THIS IS A BAD. FUCKING RELATIONSHIP.
I literally don’t know how many more times I can say that. Everyone who thinks Christian is the ideal man is scarily brain-washed.
We find out that Christian will be going to Taiwan later this week. He wants Ana to go with, but she says no, because she has her job, and they’ve had this argument before. He pouts about it, but then gets over it, and says he’ll miss her. He seems completely oblivious to the fact that she’s acting like a fucking alien. What a good, observant husband.
They get to the hospital to see Ray, and he seems fine. Ana kisses him goodbye when they go to leave.
I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I kiss him. My subconscious purses her lips. That’s provided Christian hasn’t locked you away…or worse. My spirits take a nosedive.
You LITERALLY KNOW THAT HE IS A THREAT TO YOU.
THIS IS NOT A ROMANCE.
THIS IS A VERY HORRIFYING ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP.
This is so out of control, you guys. Next time anyone tells you this is a romance, kindly point them to this exact chapter, and watch them try and explain themselves out of this hole. This is literally horrifying.
The scene shifts to dinner, back at their house, where Ana is morosely picking at her food.
“Damn it! Ana, will you tell me what’s wrong?” Christian pushes his empty plate away, irritated. I gaze at him. “Please. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re upset, whatever, but now it’s making ME upset, so FUCK YOU.” He’s so selfish, holy shit. He’s not concerned that she’s upset, he’s angry, because it’s inconveniencing HIM. What the FUCK.
I swallow and try to subdue the panic rising in my throat. I take a deep steadying breath. It’s now or never. “I’m pregnant.
He stills, and very slowly all the color drains from his face. “What?” he whispers, ashen.
His brow furrows with incomprehension. “How?”
GEE, I DON’T KNOW, CHRISTIAN, I IMAGINE IT HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH ALL THE FUCKING THE TWO OF YOU DO.
“Your shot?” he snarls.
“Did you forget your shot?”
I just gaze at him unable to speak. Jeez, he’s mad–really mad.
“Christ, Ana!” He bangs his fist on the table, making me jump, and stands so abruptly he almost knocks the dining chair over. “You have one thing, one thing to remember. Shit! I don’t fucking believe it. How could you be so stupid?”
Stupid! I gasp. Shit. I want to tell him that the shot was ineffective, but words fail me. I gaze down at my fingers. “I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Ok, first, I don’t think the shot is ineffective if yoU FUCKING MISS 4 APPOINTMENTS. First you blame Hannah, now it’s the shot’s fault? Come on, Ana.
Second….this is honestly scary, guys. I don’t have any dumb rage comments to make here. This is honestly just scary, and sad, because real life women go through this every day. Abuse like this is no joke. You should never be worried that your partner will cause you physical harm. I don’t care how mad they are. That is never acceptable. Ever.
“Sorry? Fuck!” he says again.
“I know the timing’s not very good.”
“Not very good!” he shouts. “We’ve known each other five fucking minutes. I wanted to show you the fucking world and now…Fuck. Diapers and vomit and shit!” He closes his es. I think he’s trying to contain his temper and losing the battle.
Maybe you should have FUCKING THOUGHT OF THAT BEFORE YOU GOT FUCKING MARRIED???? “We’ve known each other 5 fucking minutes!” YEAH I WAS SAYING THAT LITERALLY 2 BOOKS AGO, BUT YOU WENT AND GOT MARRIED ANYWAY, ASSHOLE, AND NOW YOU HAVE TO DEAL WITH THE CONSEQUENCES. THIS IS YOUR FAULT TOO, DICK.
Also, like…you are a literal billionaire. If you want to show Ana the world, you can still do that, even if you have a kid, because you can pay for a fucking babysitter, and it’s also not hard to travel the world when you’re a literal fucking billionaire. Imagine if you were poor! Your complaints are fucking TRIVIAL, Christian. I know you’re scared, that’s fine, but getting angry because you have to maybe take care of a baby? Even though you’re fucking loaded and wouldn’t have to worry about the baby’s needs? Fuck you. Fuck you so hard. Fuck you, E.L. James for writing this awful book and tricking people into thinking that Christian is at all a good person. Fuck all of this.
“Did you forget? Tell me. Or did you do this on purpose?” His eyes blaze and anger emanates off him like a force field.
Christian literally just accused Ana of getting pregnant ON PURPOSE just to SPITE HIM.
“No,” I whisper. I can’t tell him about Hannah–he’d fire her. I know.
“I thought we’d agreed on this!” he shouts.
“I know. We had. I’m sorry.”
He ignores me. “This is why. This is why I like control. So shit like this doesn’t come along and fuck everything up.”
“Christian, please don’t shout at me.” Tears start to slip down my face.
“Don’t start with the waterworks now,” he snaps. “Fuck.”
“You think I’m ready to be a father?” His voice catches, and it’s a mixture of rage and panic.
And it all becomes clear, the fear and loathing writ large in his eyes–his rage is that of a powerless adolescent. Oh, Fifty, I am so sorry. It’s a shock for me, too.
You are NOT fucking MAKING EXCUSES FOR HIS BULLSHIT.
DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING APOLOGIZE TO HIM.
HE’S A PIECE OF FUCKING GARBAGE SITTING IN A PILE OF MORE GARBAGE.
Ok, I get it, he had a troubled childhood (…when he was 3 years old and barely old enough to create memories, and then he was adopted by a massively wealthy family who treated him well and he never had to suffer growing up…) and he was coerced into a sexual relationship with an adult when he was a teenager (i.e. rape). I get that. But childhood trauma DOES NOT give you an excuse to act like a GIANT FUCKING SWEATY SHIT-COVERED DICK when your fucking WIFE tells you something that she is ALSO CLEARLY UPSET ABOUT.
NONE OF THIS IS EXCUSABLE. NOT ONE BIT.
“I know neither one of us is ready for this, but I think you’ll make a wonderful father,” I choke. “We’ll figure it out.”
I have no idea where you’re getting that assumption from. You told him some difficult news and he immediately started acting violently. What the FUCK makes you think it’s safe to bring a child into this house?
“How the fuck do you know!” he shouts, louder this time. “Tell me how!” His gray eyes burn, and so many emotions cross his face. It’s fear that’s most prominent.
I don’t CARE that he’s scared, he’s being a VIOLENT BAG OF COCKS! HE GETS NO SYMPATHY!
“Oh fuck this!” Christian bellows dismissively and holds his hands up in a gesture of defeat. He turns on his heel and stalks toward the foyer, grabbing his jacket as he leaves the great room. His footsteps echo off the wooden floor, and he disappears through the double doors into the foyer, slamming the door behind him and making me jump once more.
Ana starts crying and the housekeeper, Mrs. Jones comes over and asks if Ana would like some tea. Ana says she wants wine, but then she rethinks it and says she wants the tea. Apparently Ana is already all in on this baby.
Mrs. Jones gets the tea and then asks if Ana wants anything to eat, and when Ana says she’s not hungry, Mrs. Jones tries to GUILT TRIP HER INTO EATING by saying “It’s not just you anymore.”
Fuck literally every member of this household.
Ana refuses again, because she understandably isn’t very hungry. She heads to the library to rest.
I dig my BlackBerry out of my purse and contemplate calling Christian. I know it’s a shock for him–but he really did overreact. When does he not overreact? My subconscious arches a finely plucked brow at me. I sigh. Fifty Shades of fucked up.
Well that’s an understatement.
WHY ARE YOU MAKING IT SOUND LIKE THIS IS ALL JUST A NORMAL THING? LIKE, “Oh, sigh, my husband acted out violently and accused me of getting pregnant on purpose, that’s just so like him!”
NONE OF THIS IS OK, ANA. GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE BEFORE HE LITERALLY KILLS YOU AND/OR YOUR CHILD.
Ana seems to be very confused about how to respond to this situation, and is terrified Christian won’t come back. Girlfriend, get your ass out of there and find someplace safe for you and your baby. Christian is dangerous and volatile and NOT A GOOD PERSON.
Ana falls asleep in the library, but wakes up several hours later. She immediately starts patting her belly and thinking about “Little Blip.” Ugh. She gets up to go find Christian, only to discover that he isn’t home yet. She starts to worry that this is another near-death situation like when his helicopter crashed, so she sends him a text asking where he is, then goes to take a bath.
Christian doesn’t respond, so Ana goes and puts on PJs (“one of my 1930s-style satin nightdresses” are you fucKING KIDDING ME), grabs the duvet from the spare bedroom and heads to the great room to keep watch. Oh, while she’s in the spare bedroom she thinks about how that can be the baby’s room, and contemplates whether they’ll paint it blue or pink.
HOW ABOUT YOU STOP REINFORCING GENDER ROLES, ANA. HOW ABOUT THAT.
Later, Ana wakes to the sound of Christian in the foyer. Apparently he’s…wasted. Oh good.
He leans against the jamb of the foyer doors. “Mrs. Grey,” he slurs.
Crap. He’s very drunk. I don’t know what to do.
“Oh…you look mighty fine, Anastasia.”
“Where have you been?”
He puts his fingers to his lips and smiles crookedly at me. “Shh!”
“I think you’d better come to bed.”
“With you…” He snickers.
…Come on, dude. Seriously? Ugh.
Ana tries to put him to bed, but he wants her to join him, which she doesn’t want to.
“And so it begins. I’ve heard about this.”
I frown. “Heard about what?”
“Babies mean no sex.”
Dude…come on. I’m just…I’m out of comments, at this point. Christian Grey is a piece of garbage who abandoned his pregnant wife to get wasted, then comes home, doesn’t apologize, and just complains about how he won’t get enough sex because she’s pregnant.
WHAT A DREAM, RIGHT LADIES?
Ugh, but Ana ends up thinking all this shit is “cute and playful?” Fuckkkk thattttt.
Then Christian starts drunkenly talking to Ana’s stomach, to the baby. It’s a little cute at first.
“You’ll choose him over me,” he says sadly.
Dude. It’s not a fucking popularity contest, this is YOUR FUCKING CHILD YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT. What, you expect Ana to choose you over a LITERAL INFANT?
I mean, it would make sense, since CHRISTIAN ALSO SEEMS TO BE A LITERAL INFANT, PRONE TO TEMPER TANTRUMS AND MOOD SWINGS.
And then Christian just…falls asleep. So Ana continues undressing him? Like, that’s nice, but undressing a sleeping person is difficult, and also that seems pretty unnecessary? Also he was like…the biggest asshole?????
His shirt has come dislodged from his pants, revealing a hint of his happy trail. I can’t resist. I bend and kiss it.
I just…why. Why was that necessary. SPOILER ALERT! It wasn’t.
Ana takes off his clothes as best she can, and then kisses his temple and tells him she loves him. Then, she picks up the clothes she took off, and his blackberry falls out, which she “inadvertantly” unlocks. On the screen there’s a text.
*It was good to see you. I understand now. Don’t fret. You’ll make a wonderful father.*
It’s from her. Mrs. Elena Bitch Troll Robinson.
Shit. That’s where he went. He’s been to see her.
Okay…okay. So let me get this straight. He FREAKS THE FUCK OUT AT YOU, all because you accidentally got pregnant, he YELLS AT YOU, almost OVERTURNS FURNITURE OUT OF ANGER, and BLAMES YOU FOR GETTING PREGNANT, and then LEAVES FOR HOURS WITH NO CALL OR TEXT AND RETURNS HOME WILDLY DRUNK, and that’s fine.
And then he goes and talks to this Mrs. Robinson, which is fucked up, sure, since she sexually abused him when he was a teenager, I get that, and going to see her was super wrong, I’m not denying that.
But somehow, all the shit before this was all fine and dandy, but going to see Mrs. Robinson is somehow THE FINAL STRAW. Like…sure that’s fucked up of him to do, but on a scale from 1 to BLAMING YOUR WIFE FOR GETTING PREGNANT AND ACCUSING HER OF GETTING PREGNANT ON PURPOSE, I’d say going to see a woman you used to have sexual relations with is…I don’t know, like a 5? The scale is so fucked I don’t even know.
End of Chapter Twenty
Oh my god. This chapter took so long. It’s not even that many pages but like…the rage was so potent. I feel like I aged 20 years.
I also kept getting side tracked, and had to eat dinner, and had to take a break at one point because I was literally too angry to keep reading.
So! I’m sorry this one is posting so much later than anticipated! But I hope you enjoyed my rage, and tune in…sometime soon (maybe) for chapter 21, where I’m sure I won’t have anything more to become wildly enraged at.
Hah. Ha ha. Haaaaaa.
Thanks for reading, folks! You guys are the best, and you help keep me sane!