“Sorry for what?” he says alarmed.

“Not using the safe word.”

He closes his eyes, as if in relief.

“We might have avoided all this suffering,” he mutters.

“You look fine.” More than fine. You look like you.

“Appearances can be deceptive,” he says quietly. “I’m anything but fine. I feel like the sun has set and not risen for five days, Ana. I’m in perpetual night here.” I’m winded by his admission. Oh my, like me.

“You said you’d never leave, yet the going gets tough and you’re out the door.”

“When did I say I’d never leave?”

“In your sleep. It was the most comforting thing I’d heard in so long, Anastasia. It made me relax.”

My heart constricts and I reach for my wine.

“You said you loved me,” he whispers. “Is that now in the past tense?” His voice is low, laced with anxiety.

“No, Christian, it’s not.”

He gazes at me, and he looks so vulnerable as he exhales. “Good,” he murmurs.

I’m shocked by his admission. He’s had a change of heart. When I told him I loved him before, he was horrified. The waiter is back. Briskly he places our plates in front of us and scuttles away.

Holy hell. Food.

“Eat,” Christian commands.

Deep down I know I’m hungry, but right now, my stomach is in knots. Sitting across from the only man I have ever loved and debating our uncertain future does not promote a healthy appetite. I look dubiously at my food.

“So help me God, Anastasia, if you don’t eat, I will take you across my knee here in this restaurant, and it will have nothing to do with my sexual gratification. Eat!” Jeez, keep your hair on, Grey. My subconscious stares at me over her half-moon specs.

She is wholeheartedly in agreement with Fifty Shades.

“Okay, I’ll eat. Stow your twitching palm, please.”

He doesn’t smile but continues to glare at me. Reluctantly I lift my knife and fork and slice into my steak. Oh, it’s mouthwateringly good. I am hungry, really hungry. I chew and he visibly relaxes.