Taylor is pacing outside and glancing toward the front door. More people leave the building, but still no Ana. Opening my eyes, I stare at the front door through the window, my mood now as dark as the Audi’s tinted glass. She’s sharing her little white bed and her beautiful body with some fucking stranger.ĭon’t go there. Closing my eyes, I try to center myself, but I’m confronted by my deepest, darkest fear: she’s met someone else.
And it fills me with a despair that has become all too familiar since she left. The image of Ana leaving surfaces in my mind’s eye: her sad, ashen face stricken with hurt and confusion. I don’t want anything that will remind me of you. She wanted to give them back to me she wanted to give them to a charity. A humorless smile tugs at my lips: waiting at Clayton’s, at The Heathman after the photo shoot, and again when I sent her the Thomas Hardy books. The door opens and my heart soars into overdrive but then quickly stutters with disappointment. I dismiss the thought and stare at the doorway, willing her to appear. I know them by heart, all of them friendly and concise but without a hint that she’s been missing me. Leaning back, I run through her recent e-mails in my mind. I contemplate sending her an e-mail to let her know I’m outside, but as I fumble for my phone, I realize I don’t want to take my eyes off the front door.
#Where can i read fifty shades of grey free free
Will it be a reunion? Or am I just the free ride to Portland? Seven…My patience has been tested by the clock as it ticks closer to my reunion with Miss Anastasia Steele.Īnd now that I’m sitting here, alone and waiting, the determination and confidence I’ve enjoyed all day are evaporating. My optimism has driven me through my meetings with enthusiasm. It’s the first productive day I’ve had since she left me, or so it feels. But why? Maybe it’s because he’s had to deal with my ever-changing moods this past week, and I know I’ve not been easy.īut today has been different. Maybe he’s more affected by my tension than I thought.
“I’ll wait outside, sir,” he says, surprising me, and he climbs out of the car before I can stop him. Taylor clears his throat and his eyes dart to mine in the rearview mirror. I’ve signed the revised heads of agreement. Well, that’s something I can rectify when I take control. The business behind those closed doors could be an insurance company or an accounting firm-they’re not displaying their wares. Set back beyond a wide, open sidewalk, the building is shabby and in need of renovation the company’s name is etched haphazardly in the glass, and the frosted effect on the window is peeling. She’s inside-inside Seattle Independent Publishing. Taylor sits in the driver’s seat, staring straight ahead, wordless, looking his usual composed self, while I can barely breathe. The atmosphere feels stifling, and though I’m trying to remain calm, the anticipation and anxiety are knotting my stomach and pressing down on my chest. I shift in my seat in the rear of the car.
I know I’m early, but I’ve been looking forward to this moment all day. It’s 5:36 and I stare through the privacy glass of my Audi at the front door of her building.