“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.”

“Blip?”

“Blip.”

Blip. “I had the name Junior in my head.”

“Junior it is, then.”

“But I like Blip.” I kiss her again, tentatively teasing her lips—and it’s a match to dry kindling. My reaction immediate. Innate.

No. I pull away. “Much as I’d like to kiss you all day, your breakfast is getting cold.” Ana’s eyes shine the color of a summer sky. She’s amused, I think. “Eat,” I insist.

She shuffles back into bed and I push the tray in front of her. A barrier between us. She starts on the pancakes with enthusiasm. “You know,” she says between mouthfuls, “Blip might be a girl.”

Christ. I run my hand through my hair. “Two women, eh?”

“Do you have a preference?”

“Preference?”

“Boy or girl.”

“Healthy will do.” Jesus. A girl? Who looks like Ana? “Eat,” I snap.

“I’m eating, I’m eating. Jeez, keep your hair on, Grey.”

I move off the bed and take a seat in the armchair beside her, cheered that we’ve finally broached the subject of…Blip.

Blip.

Yeah. I like the name.

I reach for the newspaper.

Shit! Ana is on the front page. “You made the papers again, Mrs. Grey.” Inside, I’m seething. Why can’t they leave us alone? Fucking press.

“Again?”

“The hacks are just rehashing yesterday’s story, but it seems factually accurate. You want to read it?”

She shakes her head. “Read it to me. I’m eating.”

Anything to keep you eating, wife.

I read the article out loud as Ana tucks into her breakfast. She doesn’t comment on what’s been written, but asks me to read more. “I like listening to you.”

Her words warm my soul.

She finishes her breakfast, sits back, and listens as I continue, but we’re interrupted by a knock on the door. My spirits sink when Detective Clark shambles in. “Mr. Grey, Mrs. Grey. Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” I snap. He’s the last person I want to see.

Clark ignores me, which sets my teeth on edge, the arrogant asshole. “Glad to see you’re awake, Mrs. Grey,” he says. “I need to ask you a few questions about Thursday afternoon. Just routine. Is now a convenient time?”

“Sure,” Ana mumbles, but she looks wary.

“My wife should be resting.”

“I’ll be brief, Mr. Grey. And it means I’ll be out of your hair sooner rather than later.” He has a point. Giving Ana an apologetic look, reluctantly I stand and offer him my chair, then perch on the other side of her bed and take Ana’s hand. I listen quietly as Clark lets my wife tell her side of Hyde’s kidnapping and extortion horror story; the words are at odds with her soft, sweet voice. Occasionally, I tighten my grip on her hand as I rein in my anger, and I’m relieved when it’s over. Ana’s done well to remember so many details.

“That’s great, Mrs. Grey.” Clark seems pleased.

“I wish you’d aimed higher,” I mutter.

“Might have done womankind a service if Mrs. Grey had,” he agrees.

Ana’s puzzled look skims from Clark to me. She doesn’t know what we’re talking about, but I’m not going to explain that right now.

“Thank you, Mrs. Grey. That’s all for now.” Clark shifts in his seat, ready to leave.

“You won’t let him out again, will you?” Ana flinches, visibly at the thought.

“I don’t think he’ll make bail this time, ma’am.”

“Do we know who posted his bail?” I ask.

“No, sir. It was confidential.”

I’ll chase Welch for an update to see if he’s found Hyde’s benefactor. Clark rises to leave just as Dr. Singh and two interns enter the room, and I follow the detective out, taking Ana’s tray with me.

“Good day, Mr. Grey,” Clark says, saluting me, then walks on up the corridor.

Taylor rises from his chair outside Ana’s room and follows me into the nurses’ kitchen, where I deposit the tray. “Sir, I’ll take care of that.”

“Thanks.” I leave him to wash up and return to Ana’s room, where I hang back while Dr. Singh completes her examination.

“You’re good. I think you can go home,” she says, with a pleasant smile to Ana.

Thank God.

“Mrs. Grey, you’ll have to watch for worsening headaches and blurry vision. If that occurs, you must return to the hospital immediately.”

Ana nods, beaming, clearly as grateful as I am that she’s being discharged.

“Dr. Singh, can I have a word?”

“Of course.”

We step into the corridor, and I’m relieved that Taylor is still away from his station on the chair outside. “My wife… Um—”

“Yes, Mr. Grey?”

“Her injuries… Will they stop us…”

Dr. Singh frowns.

“Sexual act—”

She interrupts me, finally understanding my gist. “Yes, Mr. Grey, that’s fine.” She smiles and adds in a quieter tone, “Provided your wife is…you know. Willing.”

I give her a broad smile.