Happy Monday night, all! I’m glad you made it through the first day of your work week, or if you’re just starting back to school, your school week. But now it’s time for a recap of Chapter Eighteen of Fifty Shades of Grey, and there are shenanigans here, I tell you! So here we go.
After a thorough examination and lengthy discussion, Dr. Greene and I decide on the mini pill. She writes me a prepaid prescription and instructs me to pick the pills up tomorrow. I love her no-nonsense attitude ““ she has lectured me until she’s as blue as her dress about taking it at the same time every day. And I can tell she’s burning with curiosity about my so-called relationship with Mr. Grey. I don’t give her any details. Somehow I don’t think she’d look so calm and collected if she’d seen his Red Room of Pain.
Here’s the truth, Ana: She doesn’t give a shit. Why does it always have to be about you? So just pay attention to what she says.
Christian is reading, seated on his couch. A breathtaking aria is playing on the music system, swirling round him, cocooning him, filling the room with a sweet, soulful song. For a moment, he looks serene.
And wow, she can see the music from this breathtaking aria swirling around him and cocooning him.
I am reeling. One minute we’re joking and the next”¦ I fan my heated face. He’s just sex on legs, and now I have to recover my equilibrium and eat something.
‘Tell me – what method did you opt for?’
I am momentarily thrown by his question, when I realize he’s talking about Dr. Greene’s visit.
‘And will you remember to take it regularly, at the right time, every day?’
Jeez”¦ of course I will. How does he know? I blush at the thought, probably from one or more of the fifteen.
‘I’m sure you’ll remind me,’ I murmur dryly.
He glances at me with amused condescension.
‘I’ll put an alarm on my calendar.’ He smirks. ‘Eat.’
Um, wouldn’t using condoms as a backup method be easier? And why did she decide on a mini pill if she was going to have an issue remembering to take it right at the same time every day?
The chicken caesar is delicious. To my surprise, I’m famished, and for the first time since I’ve been with him, I finish my meal before he does. The wine is crisp, clean, and fruity.
She always says that white whine is crisp and clean. And every kind of food is delicious. Yet, like her literary heroines, she feels she has to pretend that too much food isn’t good for her because she’s too fragile. OK, then, Laura Fairlie.
My heart starts pounding. This is it. I’m really going to do this. My inner goddess is spinning like a world-class ballerina, pirouette after pirouette.
And suddenly he’s back ““ and all at once I’m calmer and more excited in the same breath. Could I be more excited? I can see his feet. He’s changed his jeans. These are older, ripped, soft, and over-washed. Holy cow. These jeans are hot.
OK, so is he fulfilling her fantasy of sexytimes with an Abercrombie and Fitch model or something? What is the point of this?
I oblige immediately, feeling like I’m exiting my body ““ a casual observer of events as they unfold around me. This is beyond fascinating, beyond erotic. It’s singularly the most exciting and scary thing I’ve ever done. I’m entrusting myself to a beautiful man who, by his own admission, is fifty shades of fucked up. I suppress the brief thrill of fear.
Who would have thought I could have found such gratification in this room. Who could have thought it would be so exhausting? My limbs are deliciously heavy, sated. My inner goddess has a “˜do not disturb’ sign on the outside of her room.
Just where exactly in Christian Grey’s apartment is the inner goddess’s room located? Does he know that he’s engaging in a relationship with more than one person here?
‘Bed,’ he says.
‘For sleep,’ he adds reassuringly when he sees my expression.
Suddenly, he scoops me up and carries me curled against his chest to the room along the corridor where earlier today Dr. Greene examined me. My head drops against his chest. I am exhausted. I don’t remember ever being this tired. Pulling back the duvet, he lays me down, and even more surprisingly, climbs in beside me and holds me close.
‘Sleep now, gorgeous girl,’ he whispers, and he kisses my hair.
This seen epitomizes how problematic this book is. One, she has lost her physical strength for whatever reason, so he’s carrying her to bed. And calling her “girl” only serves to infantalize her even more. He already makes a lot of the decisions for her and is very disrespectful of her own feelings in the whole thing. And some women say this book is hot? I say, “Um…how?”
And that’s all for now! Stay tuned for the Chapter Nineteen recap!