Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,203

is leaving the ICU as we arrive. “Ana, Christian, hi.”

“Where’s your dad?” Ana asks.

“He was too tired to come back. He was in a car accident this morning.”

I think that’s José’s idea of a joke as he forces a grin.

“And his painkillers have kicked in,” he continues. “He was out for the count. I had to fight to get in to see Ray, since I’m not next of kin.”

“And?” Ana’s voice cracks with anxiety.

“He’s good, Ana. Same, but all good.”

She nods, relieved, I think.

“See you tomorrow, birthday girl.”

Hell. Don’t blow the surprise!

“Sure. We’ll be here,” Ana responds.

José glances at me, then pulls her into a brief hug, closing his eyes as he holds her. “Mañana,” he whispers.

Dude. Are you still holding a torch for my wife?

He releases her, and we wish him good night, watching him walk down the corridor toward the elevators.

I sigh. “He’s still nuts about you.”

“No, he’s not. And even if he is…” She shrugs. She doesn’t care. “Well done,” she says.

What?

“For not frothing at the mouth,” she clarifies, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Even now, she’s making fun of me. “I’ve never frothed!” I try to sound offended, but her lips twitch in a slight smile, which was my intention. “Let’s see your dad. I have a surprise for you.”

“Surprise?”

“Come.” I take her hand.

My mother is standing at the end of Ray’s bed, her head bowed, as she listens to Dr. Crowe and a woman dressed in scrubs. Grace perks up when she sees us.

“Christian.” She kisses my cheek, then hugs my wife. “Ana. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine. It’s my father I’m worried about.”

“He’s in good hands. Dr. Sluder is an expert in her field. We trained together at Yale.”

“Mrs. Grey.” Dr. Sluder shakes Ana’s hand. She has a soft southern accent, her words sounding like a lullaby. “As the lead physician for your father, I’m pleased to tell you that all is on track. His vital signs are stable and strong. We have every faith that he’ll make a complete recovery. The brain swelling has stopped and shows signs of decreasing. This is very encouraging after such a short time.”

“That’s good news,” Ana says, a little color returning to her cheeks.

“It is, Mrs. Grey. We’re taking real good care of him. Great to see you again, Grace.”

“Likewise, Lorraina.”

“Dr. Crowe, let’s leave these good people to visit with Mr. Steele.” Crowe follows Dr. Sluder out of the ward.

Ana looks down at Ray, who is still sleeping peacefully. Grace takes her hand. “Ana, sweetheart, sit with him. Talk to him. It’s all good. I’ll visit with Christian in the waiting room.”

“How’s she doing?” Grace asks.

“It’s hard to tell. She’s bearing up, but I know she’s extremely anxious. She’s normally so strong.”

“It must be a shock to her, darling. Thank heavens you’re here with her.”

“Thank you for coming, Mom. What you said was really reassuring, and I’m sure it made a huge difference to Ana.”

Grace smiles at me. “You love her so.”

“I do.”

“What will you do for her birthday tomorrow?”

“I’m undecided, but I thought we might go ahead and have a low-key celebration here.”

“I think that’s a good idea. I’ll stay in Portland tonight. It’s not often I get some time to myself.”

“Andrea has booked a room for you and dad at The Heathman.”

She smiles. “Christian, you’re so capable. You think of everything.”

Her words spread like warm summer sunshine through my body.

I strip out of my white T-shirt, and Ana grabs it and slips it over her head before climbing into bed.

“You seem brighter.” I don my pajamas, pleased that Ana wants to wear my T-shirt.

“Yes. I think talking to Dr. Sluder and your mom made a big difference. Did you ask Grace to come here?”

Sliding into bed, I pull her into my arms, her back to my front; it’s the best position to spoon with my girl. “No. She wanted to come and check on your dad herself.”

“How did she know?”

“I called her this morning.”

Ana sighs.

“Baby, you’re exhausted. You should sleep.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles, then turns her head to look at me, frowning.

What?

She turns over and curls herself around me, her warmth permeating my skin as I stroke her hair. Whatever she was thinking about, it seems to have gone.

“Promise me something,” I ask.

“Hmm?”

“Promise me you’ll eat something tomorrow. I can just about tolerate you wearing another man’s jacket without frothing at the mouth, but, Ana, you must eat. Please.”

“Hmm,” she grunts in agreement and I kiss her hair. “Thank you for being here,” she mumbles, and