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“We don’t dwell on them—they’re in the past. Christian knows what his demons are, as
do I—and now I’m sure you do, too. I’m much more concerned with the future and getting
Christian to a place where he wants to be.”
I frown and he raises an eyebrow.
“The technical term is SFBT—sorry.” He smiles. “That stands for Solution-Focused
Brief Therapy. Essentially, it’s goal oriented. We concentrate on where Christian wants to
be and how to get him there. It’s a dialectical approach. There’s no point in breast-beating
about the past—all that’s been picked over by every physician, psychologist, and psychia-
trist Christian’s ever seen. We know why he’s the way he is, but it’s the future that’s impor-
tant. Where Christian envisages himself, where he wants to be. It took you walking out on
him to make him take this form of therapy seriously. He realizes that his goal is a loving
relationship with you. It’s that simple, and that’s what we’re working on now. Of course
there are obstacles—his haphephobia for one.”
Oh jeez . . . his what?I gasp.
“I’m sorry. I mean his fear of being touched,” Dr. Fly
scolding himself. “Which I’m sure you’re aware of.”
I flush and nod. Oh that!
“He has a morbid self-abhorrence. I’m sure that comes as no surprise to you. And of
course there’s the parasomnia . . . um—night terrors, sorry, to the layperson.”
I blink at him, trying to absorb all these long words. I know about all of this. But Fly
hasn’t mentioned my central concern.
“But he’s a sadist. Surely, as such, he has needs which I can’t fulfill.”
Dr. Fly
longer recognized as a psychiatric term. I don’t know how many times I have told him that.
It’s not even classified as a paraphilia any more, not since the nineties.”
Dr. Fly
“This is a pet peeve of mine.” He shakes his head. “Christian just thinks the worst
of any given situation. It’s part of his self-abhorrence. Of course, there’s such a thing as
sexual sadism, but it’s not a disease; it’s a lifestyle choice. And if it’s practiced in a safe,
sane relationship between consenting adults, then it’s a nonissue. My understanding is that
Christian has conducted all of his BDSM relationships in this ma
who hasn’t consented, so he’s not willing to do it.”
Lover!
“But surely it’s not that simple.”
“Why not?” Dr. Fly
“Well . . . the reasons he does it.”
“Ana, that’s the point. In terms of solution-focused therapy, it is that simple. Christian
wants to be with you. In order to do that, he needs to forego the more extreme aspects of
that kind of relationship. After all, what you’re asking for is not unreasonable . . . is it?”
I flush. No, it’s not unreasonable, is it?
“I don’t think so. But I worry that he does.”
“Christian recognizes that and has acted accordingly. He’s not insane.” Dr. Fly
“In a nutshell, he’s not a sadist, Ana. He’s an angry, frightened, brilliant young man, who
was dealt a shit hand of cards when he was born. We can all beat our breasts about it, and
analyze the who, the how and the why to death—or Christian can move on and decide how
he wants to live. He’d found something that worked for him for a few years, more or less,
but since he met you, it no longer works. And as a consequence, he’s changing his modus
operandi. You and I have to respect his choice and support him in it.”
I gape at him. “That’s my reassurance?”
“As good as it gets, Ana. There are no guarantees in this life.” He smiles. “And that is
my professional opinion.”
I smile, too, weakly. Doctor jokes . . . jeez.
“But he thinks of himself as a recovering alcoholic.”
“Christian will always think the worst of himself. As I said, it’s part of his self-abhor-
rence. It’s in his makeup, no matter what. Naturally he’s anxious about making this change
in his life. He’s potentially exposing himself to a whole world of emotional pain, which,
incidentally, he had a taste of when you left him. Naturally he’s apprehensive.” Dr. Fly
pauses. “I don’t mean to stress how important a role you have in his Damascene conver-
sion—his road to Damascus. But you have. Christian would not be in this place if he had
not met you. Personally I don’t think that an alcoholic is a very good analogy, but if it
works for him for now, then I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt.”
Give Christian the benefit of the doubt. I frown at the thought.
“Emotionally, Christian is an adolescent, Ana. He bypassed that phase in his life to-
tally. He’s cha
beyond all expectations. His emotional world has to play catch-up.”
“So how do I help?”
Dr. Fly
head over heels. It’s a delight to see.”
I flush, and my i
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Of course.”
I take a deep breath. “Part of me thinks that if he wasn’t this broken he wouldn’t . . .
want me.”
Dr. Fly
yourself, Ana. And frankly it says more about you than it does about Christian. It’s not
quite up there with his self-loathing, but I’m surprised by it.”
“Well, look at him . . . and then look at me.”
Dr. Fly
woman. Ana, why don’t you think of yourself as attractive?”
Oh no . . .I don’t want this to be about me. I stare down at my fingers. There’s a sharp
knock on the door that makes me jump. Christian comes back into the room, glaring at both
of us. I flush and glance quickly at Fly
“Welcome back, Christian,” he says.
“I think time is up, John.”
“Nearly, Christian. Join us.”
Christian sits down, beside me this time, and places his hand possessively on my knee.
His action does not go u
“Did you have any other questions, Ana?” Dr. Fly
Shit . . . I should not have asked that question. I shake my head.
“Christian?”
“Not today, John.”
Fly
“It may be beneficial if you both come again. I’m sure Ana will have more questions.”
Christian nods, reluctantly.
I flush. Shit . . . he wants to delve. Christian clasps my hand and regards me intently.
“Okay?” he asks softly.
I smile at him, nodding. Yes, we’re going for the benefit of the doubt, courtesy of the
good doctor from England.
Christian squeezes my hand and turns to Fly
“How is she?” he asks softly.
Me?
“She’ll get there,” he says reassuringly.
“Good. Keep me updated of her progress.”
“I will.”
Holy fuck. They’re talking about Leila.
“Shall we go and celebrate your promotion?” Christian asks me pointedly.
I nod shyly as Christian stands.
We say our quick good-byes to Dr. Fly
haste.
In the street, he turns to me. “How was that?” his voice is anxious.
“It was good.”
He regards me suspiciously. I cock my head to one side.
“Mr. Grey, please don’t look at me that way. Under doctor’s orders I am going to give
you the benefit of the doubt.”