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- Э. Л. Джеймс
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- Пятьдесят оттенков серого
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- Стр. 223/797
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Forty
-
five
minutes
later
,
we
pause
our
packing
for
the
house
specialty
,
my
lasagna
.
Kate
opens
a
bottle
of
wine
,
and
we
sit
among
the
boxes
eating
,
quaffing
cheap
red
wine
,
and
watching
crap
TV
.
This
is
normality
.
It
’
s
so
grounding
and
welcome
after
the
last
forty
-
eight
hours
of
…
madness
.
I
eat
my
first
unhurried
,
no
-
nagging
,
peaceful
meal
in
that
time
.
What
is
it
about
him
and
food
?
Kate
clears
the
dishes
and
I
finish
packing
up
the
living
room
.
We
are
left
with
the
couch
,
the
TV
,
and
the
dining
table
.
What
more
could
we
need
?
Just
the
kitchen
and
our
bedrooms
left
to
pack
up
,
and
we
have
the
rest
of
the
week
.
The
phone
rings
again
.
It
’
s
Elliot
.
Kate
winks
at
me
and
skips
off
to
her
bedroom
like
she
’
s
fourteen
.
I
know
that
she
should
be
writing
her
valedictorian
speech
,
but
it
seems
Elliot
is
more
important
.
What
is
it
about
the
Grey
men
?
What
is
it
that
makes
them
totally
distracting
,
all
-
consuming
,
and
irresistible
?
I
take
another
slug
of
wine
.
I
flick
through
the
TV
channels
,
but
deep
down
I
know
I
’
m
procrastinating
.
Burning
a
bright
red
hole
in
the
side
of
my
purse
is
that
contract
.
Do
I
have
the
strength
and
the
wherewithal
to
read
it
tonight
?
I
put
my
head
in
my
hands
.
José
and
Christian
,
they
both
want
something
from
me
.
José
is
easy
to
deal
with
.
But
Christian
…
Christian
takes
a
whole
different
league
of
handling
,
of
understanding
.
Part
of
me
wants
to
run
and
hide
.
What
am
I
going
to
do
?
His
burning
gray
eyes
and
that
intense
smoldering
stare
come
into
my
mind
’
s
eye
,
and
my
body
tightens
at
the
thought
.
I
gasp
.
He
’
s
not
even
here
and
I
’
m
turned
on
.
It
just
can
’
t
be
about
sex
,
can
it
?
I
recall
his
gentle
banter
this
morning
at
breakfast
,
his
joy
at
my
delight
with
the
helicopter
ride
,
him
playing
the
piano
—
the
sweet
,
soulful
,
oh
-
so
-
sad
music
.
He
’
s
such
a
complicated
person
.
And
now
I
have
an
insight
as
to
why
.
A
young
man
deprived
of
his
adolescence
,
sexually
abused
by
some
evil
Mrs
.
Robinson
figure
…
no
wonder
he
’
s
old
before
his
time
.
My
heart
fills
with
sadness
at
the
thought
of
what
he
must
have
been
through
.
I
’
m
too
naïve
to
know
exactly
what
,
but
the
research
should
shed
some
light
.
But
do
I
really
want
to
know
?
Do
I
want
to
explore
this
world
I
know
nothing
about
?
It
’
s
such
a
big
step
.
If
I
’
d
not
met
him
,
I
’
d
still
be
sweetly
and
blissfully
oblivious
.
My
mind
drifts
to
last
night
and
this
morning
…
and
the
incredible
,
sensual
sexuality
I
’
d
experienced
.
Do
I
want
to
say
good
-
bye
to
that
?
No
!
screams
my
subconscious
…
my
inner
goddess
nods
in
silent
Zen
-
like
agreement
with
her
.
Kate
wanders
back
into
the
living
room
,
grinning
from
ear
to
ear
.
Perhaps
she
’
s
in
love
.
I
gape
at
her
.
She
’
s
never
behaved
like
this
.
“
Ana
,
I
’
m
off
to
bed
.
I
’
m
pretty
tired
.
”
“
Me
,
too
,
Kate
.
”
