Linotte Reads 50 Shades: Fifty Shades Freed, Chapter Twenty-three, Part Two

Happy Friday, all! We’re currently in the last chapters of Fifty Shades Freed. We left off halfway on the first half of Chapter Twenty-three, and it’s time to cover the second half!

“Mrs. Grey welcome back. I’ll let Dr. Bartley know you’re awake.” She makes her way to my bedside. “My name is Nora. Do you know where you are?”
“Yes. Hospital. I need to pee.”
“You have a catheter.”
What? Oh this is gross. I glance anxiously at Christian then back to the nurse.

No, it’s part of what happens if you’re in the hospital and in a coma. You may have to have one when you have the baby, too. Get used to the idea.

“What do you want to eat?”
“Anything. Soup.”
“Mr. Grey, you’ll need the doctor’s approval before Mrs. Grey can eat.”
He gazes at her impassively for a moment then takes his BlackBerry out of his pants pocket and presses a number.
“Ana wants chicken soup… Good… Thank you.” He hangs up.
I glance at Nora whose eyes narrow at Christian.
“Taylor?” I ask quickly.
Christian nods.
“Your blood pressure is normal, Mrs. Grey. I’ll fetch the doctor.” She removes the cuff and, without so much as another word, stalks out of the room, radiating disapproval.
“I think you made Nurse Nora mad.”
“I have that effect on women.” He smirks.
I laugh, then stop suddenly as pain radiates through my chest. “Yes, you do.”

Beyonce flipping hair and saying, "Whatever."
Sure–that’s what you think, Christian. Image via Giphy.

“Ana, I’ll fill you in on the details later. Mia is fine, all things considered. She was drugged. She’s groggy now and shaken up, but by some miracle she wasn’t harmed.” Christian’s jaw clenches. “What you did”—he runs his hand through his hair—“was incredibly brave and incredibly stupid. You could have been killed.” His eyes blaze a bleak, chilling gray, and I know he’s restraining his anger.
“I didn’t know what else to do,” I whisper.
“You could have told me!” he says vehemently, fisting his hands in his lap.
“He said he’d kill her if I told anyone. I couldn’t take that risk.”

Miss Piggy headdesking
I don’t know what is more frustrating–his reaction or this weak-ass plot device. Image via Giphy.

“I have died a thousand deaths since Thursday.”
“What day is it?”
“It’s almost Saturday,” he says, checking his watch. “You’ve been unconscious for over twenty-four hours.”
“And Jack and Elizabeth?”
“In police custody. Although Hyde is here under guard. They had to remove the bullet you left in him,” Christian says bitterly. “I don’t know where in this hospital he is, fortunately, or I’d probably kill him myself.” His face darkens.

Fergie shut up song
Fergie couldn’t say it better. Stop making it about you, Christian. Image via Giphy.

“I don’t know how Sawyer found me. Was he tracking my cell, too?”
“The Saab is fitted with a tracking device. All our cars are. By the time we got near the bank, you were already on the move, and we followed. Why are you smiling?”
“On some level I knew you’d be stalking me.”
“And that is amusing because?” he asks.
“Jack had instructed me to get rid of my cell. So I borrowed Whelan’s cell, and that’s the one I threw away. I put mine into one of the duffle bags so you could track your money.”

Angry panda sweeping things to floor
“Oh, your stalking is a good thing, Christian.” HOW IS THIS CONTINUALLY OKAY? Image via Giphy.

“Sleep with me.”
He frowns. “No. I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t hurt me. Please, Christian.”
“You have an IV.”
“Christian. Please.”
He gazes at me, and I can tell he’s tempted.
“Please.” I lift up the blankets, inviting him into the bed.
“Fuck it.” He slips off his shoes and socks, and gingerly climbs in beside me. Gently, he wraps his arm around me, and I lay my head on his chest. He kisses my hair.
“I don’t think Nurse Nora will be very happy with this arrangement,” he whispers conspiratorially.

Karen Walker fake laugh
Oh, you two! Image via Giphy.

My mouth waters; I’m so hungry. I down the orange juice in a few gulps and dig into the oatmeal. Christian sits down on the edge of the bed to watch. He smirks.
“What?” I ask with my mouth full.
“I like to watch you eat,” he says. But I don’t think that’s what he’s smirking about. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” I mutter between mouthfuls.
“I’ve never seen you eat like this.”
I glance up at him, and my heart sinks. We have to address the very tiny elephant in the room. “It’s because I’m pregnant, Christian.”
He snorts, and his mouth twists into an ironic smile. “If I knew getting you knocked up was going to make you eat, I might have done it earlier.”
“Christian Grey!” I gasp and set the oatmeal down.
“Don’t stop eating,” he warns.

Squidward shaking head
HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT! Image via Giphy.

“Christian, we need to talk about this.”
He stills. “What’s there to say? We’re going to be parents.” He shrugs, desperately trying to look nonchalant, but all I can see is his fear. Pushing the tray aside, I crawl down the bed to him and take his hands in mine.
“You’re scared,” I whisper. “I get it.”
He gazes at me, impassive, his eyes wide and all his earlier boyishness stripped away.
“I am, too. That’s normal,” I whisper.
“What kind of father could I possibly be?” His voice is hoarse, barely audible.
“Oh, Christian.” I stifle a sob. “One that tries his best. That’s all any of us can do.”
“Ana—I don’t know if I can…”
“Of course you can. You’re loving, you’re fun, you’re strong, you’ll set boundaries. Our child will want for nothing.”

No kitty gif
No! Just because you’re filthy rich doesn’t mean you’ll make a good dad, Christian, particularly after how you reacted when you found out about the pregnancy. Image via Giphy.

“Yes, I do love you, Christian, desperately. I always will.”
Gently taking my head between his hands, he wipes my tears away with his thumbs. He gazes into my eyes, gray to blue, and all I see is his fear and wonder and love.
“I love you, too,” he breathes. And he kisses me sweetly, tenderly like a man who adores his wife. “I’ll try to be a good father,” he whispers against my lips.
“You’ll try, and you’ll succeed. And let’s face it; you don’t have much choice in the matter, because Blip and I are not going anywhere.”
He raises his eyebrows. “I had the name Junior in my head.”
“Junior it is, then.”
“But I like Blip.” He smiles his shy smile and kisses me once more.

Britney Spears - Um, sure, Ok nod
I still don’t know about these two. Blip as a baby name? Okay. It’s your baby. Image via Giphy.

And that’s it for this week!

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