fifty-shades-of-grey

his car door, he smiles his breathtaking smile. My answering smile is weak, completelydazzled by him, and I’m reminded once more of Icarus soaring too close to the Sun. I closethe front door as he climbs into his sporty car. I have an overwhelming urge to cry, a sadand lonely melancholy grips and tightens round my heart. Dashing back to my bedroom,I close the door and lean against it trying to rationalize my feelings. I can’t. Sliding to thefloor, I put my head in my hands as my tears begin to flow.Kate knocks gently.“Ana?” she whispers. I open the door. She takes one look at me and throws her armsaround me.“What’s wrong? What did that creepy good-looking bastard do?”“Oh Kate, nothing I didn’t want him to.”She pulls me to my bed and we sit.“You have dreadful sex hair.”In spite of my poignant sadness, I laugh.“It was good sex, not dreadful at all.”Kate smiles.“That’s better. Why are you crying? You never cry.” She retrieves my brush from theside table, and sitting behind me, very slowly starts brushing out the knots.“I just don’t think our relationship is going to go anywhere.” I stare down at my fingers.“I thought you said you were going to see him on Wednesday?”“I am, that was our original plan.”“So, why did he turn up here today?”“I sent him an email.”“Asking him to drop by?”“No, saying I didn’t want to see him anymore.”“And he turns up? Ana, that’s genius.”“Actually it was a joke.”“Oh. Now I’m really confused.”Patiently, I explain the essence of my email without giving anything away.“So you thought he’d reply by email.”“Yes.”“But instead he turns up here.”“Yes.”“I’d say he’s completely smitten with you.”I frown. Christian, smitten with me? Hardly. He’s just looking for a new toy – a convenientnew toy that he can bed and do unspeakable things to. My heart tightens painfully.This is the reality.“He came here to fuck me, that’s all.”“Who said romance was dead?” she whispers horrified. I’ve shocked Kate. I didn’tthink that was possible. I shrug apologetically.“He uses sex as a weapon.”“Fuck you into submission?” She shakes her head disapprovingly. I blink rapidly ather, and I can feel the blush as it spreads across my face. Oh… spot on, Katherine Kavanagh,Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist.