Freed (Fifty Shades as Told by Christian #3) - E.L. James Page 0,65

fear for her more than I fear for myself,” I whisper.

His expression softens. “I understand, Christian. You love her. But what you have to do is to get that fear into perspective and under control. It’s irrational. And fundamentally you know this.”

I let out a long breath. “I know. I know.”

His forehead creases with a brief frown as he glances at his lap. “I just want to sound a word of caution.” He looks up to make sure he has my full attention. “I don’t want you to sabotage your happiness, Christian.”

“What?”

“I know you feel you don’t deserve it and it’s a relatively new concept for you, but you should nurture and treasure it.”

Where the hell is he going with this?

“I do,” I try to reassure him. “But it makes me anxious.”

“I know. Just be mindful.”

I nod.

“You have the tools to overcome your anxiety. Use them. Free your rational mind.”

Okay. Okay.

I’m tiring of this lecture that I’ve heard before. “Let’s move on.”

His lips thin. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He changes the subject. “Now, speaking of sabotage, do you have any news on the saboteur?”

“No!” The word is an expletive. I wish I had an answer. “I’m beginning to wonder if we overreacted.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

My mouth twists into a half smile. “Ana said that.”

“She knows you well.”

“She does. Better than anyone. Apart from you.”

“You flatter me, Christian. I’m sure she knows you better than I do. We choose what we show to different people. It’s part of what makes us human. I think she’s seen the worst and the best of you.”

That’s true. “She brings out the worst and the best in me.”

“If you put your mind to it, you can concentrate on the best. Don’t dwell on the negative and be mindful. Use all that you’ve learned here,” he asserts.

“I can try.”

“Don’t try. Do. You’re more than capable, Christian.” He crosses his legs and continues. “How are you getting on with your parents?”

“Much better.” And I fill him in on my latest interaction with Grace.

“That all sounds great. And your dad?”

“Nothing to report since his surprise apology.”

“Good.” He pauses. “Did you get the e-mail I forwarded from Leila?”

“Yes. I don’t want to see her.”

“That’s probably wise. I’ll let her know.”

“Thank you.”

He smiles. “You know, you may not be looking forward to your wedding, but my wife is beyond excited.”

I laugh.

“We’re bringing the boys. I hope you’ve nailed everything down.”

“I think Ros, my chief operating officer, is bringing her kids, too.”

“Have you discussed children with Ana?”

“Only generally. We’ve got years to think about that. We’re both young. In fact, I forget how young Ana is sometimes.”

Yes, and I’m the sulky teen.

“You’re both young.” He glances at the clock on the wall behind me. “I think we’re done, unless there’s anything else you want to talk about? I won’t see you in a professional capacity for a while.”

“I’m good. Thanks for listening.”

“It’s my job. Remember. Don’t dwell on the negative. Focus on the positive.”

I nod and stand.

“And a bit of advice, on a personal level,” John says. “Happy wife. Happy life. Trust me on this one.”

I chuckle and he grins. “It’s good to see you laugh, Christian.”

Ana and I stare at each other. We lie in my bed…our bed, nose-to-nose, each sated, neither of us sleepy. “That was nice,” Ana whispers.

I narrow my eyes. “There’s that word again.”

She grins, and I run my fingers down her cheek. Her smile fades.

“What is it?” I ask, and she shifts her gaze downward, away from me. “Ana?”

Her eyes find mine, and fix me with an intense stare. “We’ve not been too hasty, have we?” she asks in a rush, her voice breathy and quiet.

All my senses are suddenly on high alert.

Where the fuck is she going with this?

“No! Why do you think so?”

“It’s just that I’m so happy right now, I don’t know if I could be any happier. I don’t want to change anything.”

I close my eyes, savoring my relief. She lays her hand on my cheek. “Are you happy?” she asks.

Opening my eyes, I regard her with all the sincerity I can muster from every fiber of my being. “Of course I’m happy. You have no idea how you’ve changed my life for the better. But I’ll be happier once we’re married.”

“You’re anxious. I can see it in your eyes.” Her fingers graze my chin.

“I’m anxious to make you mine.”

“I am yours,” she murmurs, and her words force a smile.

Mine.

I continue, “And we have to endure two days of enforced socializing.”

She giggles.