Freed: Fifty Shades Freed as told by Christian

Chapter 184

Ana gasps, sagging against me some more.

“It’s standard procedure in these cases. For now, we just have to wait and see.”

“And what’s the prognosis?” I ask, trying to mask the distress in my voice.

“Mr. Grey, it’s difficult to say at the moment. It’s possible he could make a complete recovery, but that’s in God’s hands now.”

“How long will you keep him in a coma?”

“That depends on how his brain responds. Usually seventy-two to ninety-six hours.”

“Can I see him?” Ana’s breathless with anxiety.

“Yes, you should be able to see him in about half an hour. He’s been taken to the ICU on the sixth floor.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Dr. Crowe nods a good-bye and leaves us.

“Well, he’s alive,” Ana whispers, trying to sound hopeful, but tears pool in her eyes and spill down her ashen face.

No. Ana, baby. “Sit down,” I tell her, easing her back to the seat.

“Papa,” José says to his father, “I think we should go. You need to rest. We won’t know anything for a while. We can come back this evening, after you’ve rested. That’s okay, isn’t it, Ana?” José turns to Ana.

“Of course,” she responds.

“Are you staying in Portland?” I ask, and José nods. “Do you need a ride home?”

José frowns. “I was going to order a cab.”

“Luke can take you.”

Sawyer stands, while José looks confused.

“Luke Sawyer,” Ana says.

“Oh. Sure. Yeah, we’d appreciate it. Thanks, Christian.”

Ana offers Mr. Rodriguez a careful hug, and a less careful one to José. He whispers in her ear, but I’m close enough to hear. “Stay strong, Ana. He’s a fit and healthy man. The odds are in his favor.”

“I hope so,” she replies, her voice distressingly small. Her words slice through me like a scythe, because there’s

Thank God.

“Keep it, if

“No, I’m okay. Thanks,” she says, and I take her hand. “If there’s any change, I’ll let you know right away.”

props open. Mr. Rodriguez raises his hand, and José stops. “He’ll be in my prayers, Ana.” The

“I know,” Ana says, her voice strained with emotion.

alone. I caress her cheek. “You’re pale. Come here.” Taking a seat, I gather her onto my lap, folding my arms around her. She burrows

We sit.

Together.

Each of us with

What do I say

I offer her what I hope is a reassuring squeeze.

Ray is a strong man. He’ll

“How was Charlie Tango?” she asks eventually, and I marvel that even in this situation

My EC135 is back. And what a joy she was to fly. “Oh, she was yar.”

She smiles. “Yar?”

“It’s a line from The Philadelphia Story. Grace’s favorite film.”

“I don’t know it.”

“I think I have it on Blu-Ray at home. We can watch it and make out.” Brushing my lips against her hair, I inhale her fragrance, sweeter now that José’s jacket has left with him. “Can I persuade you to eat something?”

“Not now. I want to see Ray first.”

I don’t push her.

“How were the Taiwanese?” she asks, and I think she’s steering the conversation to stop me from brooding about food.

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