Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 88

Portraits?

Where is she going with this?

My anxiety returns in full force, prickling my scalp.

“Today in the gallery you liked the Florence D’elle photographs. And I remember what you said in the Louvre. And, of course, there were those other photographs.” Her voice drops.

Oh good God. I don’t want to talk about them!

“I thought you might, um, like to take pictures of me.”

“Pictures? Of you?”

She nods, blinking, her uncertainty obvious, and I examine the box, playing for time. It’s a state-of-the-art camera, a thoughtful gift from my thoughtful wife, but it makes me uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable

Why does she think I want to photograph her naked?

That isn’t my life anymore.

I look up at her. “Why do you think I want this?” I whisper.

A frisson of alarm crosses her face. “Don’t you?” she asks.

No, Ana. You’ve got this all wrong.

Suddenly, I see it clearly: my old life and my new one careening together like a car crash and inflicting untold damage. Those photographs were fundamentally to

Try the truth, Grey. Communicate.

“For me, photos like those have usually been an insurance policy, Ana.”

subject through a lens. I was always at a remove;

Fuck. Shame washes over me, and I’m in the confessional spilling

her hair behind her ear, and looks as confounded as I feel. “And you think taking pictures of me is objectifying me?” she whispers.

I close my eyes. What is happening here?

Why wouldn’t I do this with her?

“I’m so confused,” I murmur.

“Why do you

Opening my eyes, I look down at her wrist, which still bears the marks that I left on her. I’m trying to protect her from my old life. And this is what I do?

How can I keep her safe, when I can’t even keep her safe from me?

“Christian, these don’t matter.” She holds up her hand so the welt is on show. “You gave me a safe word. Shit—yesterday was fun. I enjoyed it. Stop brooding about it. I like rough

Don’t frighten her further, Grey.

She frowns. “Don’t overthink this, Christian.” She reaches for the box, opens it, and removes the camera. Switching it on, she takes the lens cap off, and raises the Nikon to her face, pointing it at me.

it willingly was at the wedding, and before that it was for her, not so long ago, at The Heathman. That was before my life changed irrevocably. Before

“I’ll objectify you, then,” she mutters. And once more I know she’s laughing at me, and not putting up with my bullshit. She edges closer, still looking at me through the lens. One, two, three, she takes several photos. She pokes her tongue between her teeth as she snaps each one, but I know she’s unaware that she’s doing it and I’m

Only you, Ana.

Only you can drag me back into the light.

I pose for her, pursing my lips in an exaggerated fashion.

Her grin broadens and she giggles, and it’s such a wonderful sound.

“I thought it was my present,” I grumble.

“Well, it was supposed to be fun, but apparently, it’s a symbol of

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