“I think so. She starts college today in Hamden. I had an e-mail from her last night. She’s excited to begin her studies.” He angles his head to one side in an unspoken “why?”

“It’s nothing. See you Wednesday.”

“Ryan, take me to SIP.”

“Yes, sir.”

On the short journey to Ana’s workplace, I contemplate what I’m going to say to her. We had three weeks to discuss the issue of her name while we were on our honeymoon. Why didn’t she bring it up then? I’ve done nothing but call her Mrs. Grey. She didn’t object. Maybe I’ve made a stupid assumption about her name, but she knows I have…issues. I’ve told her to manage my expectations.

I want people to know she’s my wife, even where she works.

My name does that. It represents all that is good in my life.

My parents. My father.

It represents everything he’s done for me. For Elliot and for Mia, too.

Even though he’s an asshole sometimes.

I still want to emulate him.

And every time I stood in front of his desk while he gave me a dressing-down, I knew I’d failed and disappointed him.

He has pushed me to be a better person, a better man.

I admire him.

Fuck.

Maybe I should wait until this evening.

No. It can’t wait. I

This is too important

As I stare out of the car window, looking at everyone going about their business, my resentment simmers. Why the hell didn’t

By the time I stalk into SIP, I’m hanging on to my temper by a silken thread. The first person I meet is Jerry Roach, who’s standing

“Christian Grey,” he says in disbelief.

“Jerry. How are you?”

This is Elizabeth Morgan, our head

“Hi,” I mutter tightly, as we

smile doesn’t reach her eyes, and I doubt Ana’s confided in her about me—so where

“What can we do for you?” Roach asks, pleasantly.

“I need a

through the double doors behind reception and through to Ana’s office. I recall her saying that he went a little crazy when he

There’s a thought.

That would teach him.

Ana is in Hyde’s old office. I nod in greeting to Sawyer, who’s standing outside, while Roach raps on the door. Ana calls, “Come in.” The office is as small and shabby as I remember—still in need of updating and a lick of paint—though there are flowers

“Mr. Grey. H-how nice to m-meet you,” she says as we shake hands. “Can I fetch you a coffee?”

I give her a polite smile and she rushes out of the room. I turn to Roach. “If you’ll excuse me, Roach, I’d like a word with Ms. Steele.”

“Of course, Mr. Grey. Ana.” Roach leaves, closing the door behind him. I turn my attention to my wife, who looks guilty—like I’ve caught her doing something illicit—though she’s as lovely

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