A/N: Hey there! Remember me? *crickets sounds*Yeah, I know I've been absent for too long and I, particularly, know how much pain in the ass that is but life's a bit unpredictable and sometimes just gets in the way of things.

I can only apologize for making you guys wait so long and tell you that I truly believe this can be a good story and so I won't give up on it! I hope you guys won't either.

With no further delays, here it is. Hope you enjoy!

3.

Anastasia's P.O.V.

My squeaky sneakers' sounds reverberated through the empty street onto the cold night. Cold and rainy. It was down-pouring, actually, and that was just my luck. My car decided to break down when I needed it the most. I had just been fired and there was no other place I wished to be but in the safety of my home, away from Mr. Grey's household and sadistic demeanor.

I had never felt so insulted and scorned in my life. I've been forlorn and despised back in my hometown – it's not easy to be the daughter of the town's alcoholic prostitute – but I had never been so obviously underrated, especially when I was trying so hard to make things work. I just needed the opportunity to prove myself and even that had been denied. I could identify the main reasons in my head – sure, I had been a bit clumsy and not that competent, I had failed the daily schedules and break fine and ancient china – but all those times I've felt pressured and intimidated by Mr. Grey's attitude.

The arrogant bastard. I should have told him what I really thought about the way he treats his employees, about the snotty way he behaves, about how much of his arrogance he should shove up his rectum, but instead I stood frozen, trembling, paralyzed. For some reason, whenever he was around I lost all sense of control. Like I was a scared rabbit trying to find a way to escape de hawk's deadly claws.

How could someone so beautiful be so mean was beyond my comprehension. I guess having the looks of an angel doesn't give you the virtues of one as well.

I was trying to fill my mind with all kinds of thoughts just to avoid the cold realization that I was walking through lifeless streets, in a dark night, with no one to help in case of need. I had seen a psychologist after my attack. After it I couldn't even sleep in the dark, I kept seeing shadows and unshaped masses coming from everywhere, grabbing me and beating me unmercifully, penetrating my flesh with sharp knifes. It was so gruesome I never got any rest. Eventually and with the help of some therapy I managed to overcome that. After a while I started leaving the house after dusk too. And now I was even able to walk alone at night, but a gelid tingle was always protruding my mind with unwanted feelings.

I always avoid empty streets but this time I had no other option but to pass through this one. It was the only way to get home. And I wanted so desperately to get home and wrap myself around a warm blanket and drink the cheap tequila I always store hidden in my closet for emotional emergencies that I suck it up and started walking.

And that's way I was here, shaking uncontrollably from both the frizzing wind and the awful sensation of fear I was getting, trying to get to my little haven as quickly as possible.

I was doing fine but suddenly I heard something behind me. A muffled sound. And that's when all came apart. My hands begun to tremble in my soaking wet pockets and I wanted to turn around and see for myself what was behind me but couldn't move my head even if my life depended on it. The sound became clearer, closer. It was footsteps.

My heart launched on my chest beating like crazy while my breathing hitched and got erratic. Oh god, this is happening again. I was so afraid and yet I couldn't turn around. Quickening my pace I started to walk briskly and all the while those footsteps continued to resound in my ears closer, closer, closer.

They were just behind me now. Just inches away from me. Anytime now the person would grab me and yank me back so forcefully my legs would buckle and my body would fall flat on the floor. Please make it quick, I begged to myself.

I could feel the person, it was almost touching me and I couldn't take it anymore. Just when I was about to scream for help, hoping some soul would come to my rescue, the man that was behind me passed by my side without giving me so much as a glance.

I watched in utter shock his body moving quickly, trying to avoid the rain, getting farther and farther into the darkness of the street. Away from me.

It was a regular man, a normal person, someone just like me who was unfortunate enough to have to walk with this weather and yet here I was, almost convulsing with fear thinking he'd do something nasty to me. I sighed in relief but coiled internally, ashamed of my own behavior. Not everyone in the world was bound on hurting me, yet that was all I could think off.

I scowled to myself and just when I was turning the corner and seeing the beginning of my own street, a fast car appeared on my side. This time, I refused to let fear scorn me. I held my chin high and didn't even spare a glance. It was just a vehicle – a moving, working vehicle, unlike mine – and it was just passing by.

Except that it wasn't. Tires shrieked loudly on the wet asphalt and the car stopped just ahead of me. The passenger door cracked open and I heard a voice calling for me.

Any other time I'd start running and yelling for dear life but right now I was in war with fear and so, temptingly, I peeked from far away. My heart stopped when I saw the driver.

"Get in!" He shouted at me. I was once again paralyzed. "Miss Steele." His voice had a tone of warning to it that just pissed me off.

I cross my arms in front of my chest and started to walk away. "Anastasia!" He tried again and this time his voice held a pleading tone that made me stop on my tracks. "Please." He asked as gently as he could possibly be while shouting at me. "Get in or you'll catch pneumonia."

I was still reluctant but I wanted to know why he had driven all the way here and well… curiosity killed the cat and just like that, I slipped inside his sporty, flashy, immaculate car.

I was completely drenched. "I'm going to ruin your seat." I murmured once the door was closed.

Mr. Grey glanced at me sideways, his face transformed in a grimace, but I didn't know if it was because of the state I was in or simply because he was too concerned for the safety of his leather seat. "I'll send it to the cleaning service afterwards."

The way he said those words made me feel like a piece of garbage that just happened to be on his car. I flinched a bit but I had no right to get angry at that. I was spoiling his expensive good, after all. So I just nodded.

"I…" His words didn't continue. He seemed a bit at struggle and that made me more at ease. If he wasn't confident as usual perhaps he wouldn't be as mean. "Where do you live?" He asked after a while.

"Just by the end of the street."

"You came walking all this way?"

I blinked and turned to face him. I regretted immediately because as soon as I saw his strong profile all air left my body. He was so handsome. I coughed to regained composure. "I didn't have many choices."

"You could have come back to the house."

Was he kidding me? "I don't think so." I said way too briskly. "You can stop here."

He did it and then turned to look straight at me after the car was safely off. My insides twisted in both dread and anticipation. I wanted nothing more than to walk out of that claustrophobic place and into my house but the stupid resolution that I should face fear kept me in put. I met his gaze timidly but hold my ground nonetheless.

"Thanks for the ride," I said as a way of goodbye. My hand stretched for the handler but Mr. Grey's fingers craved into my arm, sending little jolts of electricity through my skin.

"Miss Steele," He begun but I wasn't really listening to him, his touch was suffocating. "I… I know things didn't work out well but perhaps I was a bit too harsh on you. I should have shown more… respect."

His admission struck me like a lightning. For a moment I was lost in my own thoughts. Then I recovered. "Thank you." I breathed and this time I meant it. I truly appreciated having his apologies or sort-off apologies.

We stood quiet for a bit, my hand tightly gripping the door-handler and my chest raising and failing too quickly for my breathing to be even. I wanted to break the silence, it was too unbearable, but I didn't know what to say and Mr. Grey wasn't a very comforting person. By the look on his eyes – his beautiful, stormy silver eyes – I could tell there was something else there. Something he wanted to say but was struggling with it. I wondered what it could be but dismissed it quickly when his brazing fingers left my arm.

"I should go," I whispered feebly. Mr. Grey's eyes bored into mine more intensely – if that was possible – for a few seconds until he finally drift his gaze apart, nodding with his head.

"Yes, you should. Here, let me help you." He said and quickly strolled out of the car taking something from the backseat with him. I fidgeted my hands uncertain of what was going to happen but my questions were answered when he opened my door and sheltered me from the rain with a large, black umbrella.

I looked quizzically at him but he didn't offer any explanations. As I stepped out and walked towards my building I understood he wanted to cover me until I was safely home. It was a bit late for coverage, I thought to myself glancing quickly at my soaking wet clothes, but I refrained from saying something about that. Mr. Grey was being a nice person and I wasn't going to be the one discouraging him of that.

Once the old, wooden door was before us, I started to search my bag for my precious set of keys. I couldn't find them anywhere. I cursed mentally and grew anxious as the seconds went by. I could feel Mr. Grey's gaze burning holes in my head and I could only imagine how much he was insulting me and my incompetence in his own mind. My hands shook harder with these thoughts. I felt pressured but tried to push those stupid sensations out of my chest. I'd refused to be bullied over an opening of a door. Especially my goddamned door.

I sighed and plucked my hand deeper in my bag and, finally, after what felt as a millennium, I found what I was looking for. My former boss let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a relieved murmured but aside that he maintained himself in utter silence.

I pushed the door but it was so old and heavy it didn't moved much.

Great, just what I needed to cement my humiliation, not being able to open the door to my building.

In all fairness the blame wasn't on me. The door's hinges were rusty and in urgent need of a reparation so for me to be able to open it I had to use my whole body. I positioned myself sideways to the stupid entrance ready to push it with my shoulder, bending my knees to give the extra impulse, but just when I was about to launch towards the port, it magically opened.

At first I felt so befuddled that I almost lost my balance but then I casted my gaze upwards and saw that no magic had been involved in that opening, it was simply Mr. Grey's strong arm that was holding the door wide apart, leaving enough room for me to shamelessly slip into the dimed lighted hallway.

I did that without meeting his eyes, this day was proving to be far too catastrophic for my ego, but once I was safely inside there was no hiding. I needed to face him. And I needed to thank him. Again.

"The door's just a little rusty on the hinges, it's usually not so hard to open, I mean it's old and all but the rain must have worsened the state of it…" I started rambling but soon stopped myself. I was always a mess next to this man. I needed to regain control of myself. "Thank you." I added after a minute of silence passed between us.

His shinny, enticing eyes had so much unspoken words behind them, it even pulled strings at my heart. I didn't know if it was his own pain or simply the dreadfulness of the situation that was downing on him, but for a minute I even felt sympathy. I didn't know exactly of what I was feeling sympathy but Mr. Grey was looking so vulnerably at me as if deep inside he was a decent man. As if deep inside he had some ugly monsters tormenting him.

I could relate to that and seeing as he didn't seem set on walking away, I blurted out the next question without reasonable moderation, "Do you want to come in?"

My words felt as foreigner to him as they did to me. It startled the both of us. Part of me hoped he would decline and walk away from my life forever. That way I could save this little frozen moment in my memory and not deal with his cold side. But to my utter surprise, Mr. Grey nodded.

"If you don't mind…" He added hesitantly.

I didn't know what to feel. Should I be flattered that he wanted to accompany me to my house or nervous that he was going to see the inside of my little cottage? I was a bit at lost for words but still managed to tell him to follow my steps. He did it copiously and trailed off right behind me.

My house was the last on the first floor. We only climbed a set of stairs before arriving to the destination. The hallway was poorly lightened just like the rest of the building and the walls were moist and had the painting chirping off of them. It was a raw scenario, one I was sure Mr. Grey wasn't accustomed to, but I didn't dare to look back.

Finally we arrived to the front of my door. It was the 6th apartment of sixteen. This time around I managed to open it at once and without the help of anyone. I sighed content to myself at that, it was a good step.

"Please come in," I said to my visitor, while entering deeper inside the place. I dropped my soaking bag onto the floor, close to the wall, and shunted to the left to allow passage for Mr. Grey.

I glanced around nervously to make sure everything was in its right place and got a pleasant feeling when I was presented with a very tidy apartment. I was feeling a bit better with the whole situation. I was in war with fear and somehow I had my hopes being renewed.

"Do you want some tea?" I asked turning around towards Mr. Grey.

When I saw his face though, all positives vibes I was building fleeted away from my soul. His expression was of pure disgust. His mouth was contorted on some kind of frown and his eyes were widely shocked. I gulped loudly and the noise broke the trance he was in.

"How?" He asked almost inaudibly.

I would have frowned myself but I was so hurt with his reaction, I simply murmured, "How's what?"

"How are you going to make me tea?"

"I…" At first his question made no sense to me but then I turned towards the interior of my house too – partial because I didn't want to show him how much he affected me, but mainly because I wanted to see what had caused him so much disruption – and then I realized why he was interrogating my ability to make a simply teacup. I didn't have any kitchen. "I have a kettle and a microwave and a sink with drinkable water." I answered with as much dignity as I could muster.

The door was already closed but Mr. Grey was still on the threshold gaping at me. My house was little, well maybe little was an understatement, it was tiny. I only had two IKEA chairs by the counter, a small fridge, a handy kettle, a practical microwave, a fluffy carpet where I liked to lay down sometimes, a single bed with a couple of pillows I believed fashionable, a simple closet next to a wide window that gave view to the street, and a sky-blue door painted by me that gave access to the small bathroom.

It wasn't a palace. It surely wasn't the Grey household. But it was neat and clean and mine. I had pride in it.

"How do you cook?" He asked ignoring my previous answer.

"I told you, I have a kettle and a microwave." This time around my answer came crisply and irritated. I didn't feel well behind mocked.

His gaze tore off from the surroundings and he looked straight into my eyes. I almost felt dizzy with the intensity on it. "I heard it." He acknowledged with no particular emotion on his voice. "But my question still remains."

"I can cook soup, scramble eggs, pasta, couscous, canned tuna, noodles, sausages or heat up some pizzas. I can make tea as well." I said pointedly giving him a hard stare.

I was proud of that, of my little kettle and microwave and my simple meals and my independence, but I could tell Mr. Grey didn't share my state of mind. If anything, he was more stunned now than before.

"That's… not a way to live." He whispered. He didn't hold his normal menacing tone but I still didn't appreciate his observation.

"So what's the way to live?" I snapped. I didn't want to do that but I had nothing but good intentions when I invited him over and being disrespected in my own house was something I wouldn't allow.

"In a proper place with proper utilities! This isn't even good enough for a dirty animal."

My mouth dropped opened at his last sentence, I tried to articulate a snappy mean comeback but his words had hit close to home. I've been told stuff like that back in my hometown, insults just like that one directed towards my mother, towards me, towards our faulty way of live. Up until now I had been so proud of myself to be able to pull together a life, to overcome my fears, to battle the adversities. This tiny house had been the first place I felt like calling home and now it was simply shattered.

My heart launched from my chest onto to the floor and broke in a million pieces. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes as I wandered with my gaze through my small apartment and saw exactly what Mr. Grey said.

"I think you should go." I breathed quietly afraid to break into loud sobs.

"Miss Steele," He started taking a step forward.

"No," I interrupted his walk with a shake of my head. "Please. I'd like to shower and change out of these clothes."

"I didn't mean…"

"Don't." I turned around placing my back to this intruder who broke my dreams apart. I really didn't want him to see my tears but I still couldn't stop them from rolling out of me. "Just go. If you have a bit of humanity in you, just go away."

"Look, I swear I didn't…" He tried again with an even softer voice as if making his apologies sound sweet would take away the pain he brought in.

I shook my head, curling my fists into tiny balls, I couldn't take it anymore. I just wanted to be alone. "LEAVE!" I twirled on my heels faster than the speed of light and screamed at the top of my lungs. If my shouting hadn't been enough to scare Mr. Grey away, the murderous look I had in my face did the deal.

He took a step backwards and bumped into the door. He seemed genuinely upset but I wasn't sure if it was because of my outburst or because he truly regretted his words. Either way it felt too late now to make emends. The day had been too long and too many things were crocked, starting with my car, passing by my self-esteem and ending in my pride. I felt desolated and wanted nothing more than to drown the sorrows away in my cheap hidden tequila.

He opened the door but still appeared reticent about walking away. I knew he wanted to say something and make things better but this time around I wouldn't accept his apologies or sort-off apologies. I'd let him rotten with the realization of his mean, barbaric nature and his lack of empathy for fellow human beings.

Finally, he stepped outside and casted his gaze down, hanging his head in… regret? I almost felt sorry for him but quickly shoved those thoughts aside. Mr. Grey was the man that hadn't shown any mercy for me, so why should I show it for him?

I wouldn't. And so I let him walk away and close the door and only when I heard his footsteps far away from my broken haven did I fell to the ground sobbing loudly.

Tequila wouldn't be enough to even start covering my problems let alone make me forget them. Regardless, after too much shed tears, I couldn't take it anymore with the depression of the whole situation and decided I should definitely take a shower. I longed for a long, warm bath but neither my bathroom nor my gas could cover that. I didn't even remember the last time I'd truly enjoyed a relaxing, soul-smoothing wash-off. But now wasn't the right time to mourn all the superficial stuff I didn't have because there was a whole new bunch of crucial surviving things I was about to lose too.

Like food. And water. And electricity. And my little house. Unless I could find another job until the end of the month which didn't seem so likely now that I'd lost all kind of hope.

I got to my feet and lazily threw off every wet piece of clothing I had covering my body. I was so devastated I didn't even care for any cold I could catch. Or pneumonia as Mr. Grey so kindly suggested.

Just thinking about him made me boil inside and tore my soul in two. Half of me was purely disgusted with his attitudes and his too uplifted prince-y nose but somehow my other stupidly compassionated half kept replaying, over and over, the brief moment where I've seen some humanity in his eyes. People make mistakes. He did say those hurtful things but wasn't there some kind of redemption for every sin?

God, I groaned internally. I didn't know what to do and even less what to think. I wasn't a very educated person and the values I was supposed to acquire with my family weren't strong enough to guide me through this. I could only follow my own heart and instinct and right now I still felt mad. And my madness overpowered any pity I could ever feel for Mr. Grey.

He had it all. A nice house, an obviously successful career, a great set of employees, good health, extremely handsome appearance and all the richness he could wish for. And still, regardless of it all, he was a bitter man. How that had happened I couldn't imagine nor did I want to.

Once I was fully naked I grabbed the fluffiest towel I possessed and the most comfortable pajamas, and headed for my quick shower. The water was just mildly warm so I tried to be as fast as humanly possible inside a small cubical while almost making acrobatics to reach the soak and shampoo. It took probably just ten minutes but once I was out I felt a little more lightened. As if I'd washed some of my problems too.

I hadn't, obviously. They were still very much present but I could try to forget it for a night. At least.

As soon as I was nicely cleaned and dressed I instinctively went for the tequila hidden in my closet. I had two bottles that I'd previously bought at some drugstore. Given my mother's dependency with all liquor things I've always been too apprehensive about indulging in alcohol drinking but right now it just seemed like the right path to follow.

And so I did it.

At first I picked up a small cup I'd stored away and started by timidly filling it by half but, after a while, my throat was already burning and the numbing on my chest spreading widely through the rest of my body and I begun to fill fully.

The next thing I noticed my lips were wrapping around the bottleneck and juggling the liquid directly down my mouth and onto my sanguineous system. I was feeling lighter and calmer and chirpier and just all together better. I even decided to turn on my little radio and do some very clumsy but equally funny dance moves. I was having the time of my life and just wasn't able to keep track of how much tequila I had actually drunk.

Not that I cared obviously. What was there to care? I was jobless and soon to me homeless too. My only option was to go back home, submit to the pitiful and disgusted stares of everyone while listening to very blatant gossip about how I've failed in life and was just destined to follow my mom's path, and eventually become the town's new alcoholic whore.

"Damned life!" I yelled to the empty room. "Damned Mr. Grey!" I added after a while.

My vision was blurry and my moves very staggered, and, somehow, all my fuzzy warm feelings were slowly dissipating out of me while a raging melancholy was taking place. I wasn't so keen on those emotions that but I couldn't do much now. The deed was done and I was drunk as a kite.

I lied down on the floor and after that I just couldn't remember anything. The world seemed to twirl and spin and rotate faster at each blink I gave and, before I knew it, my eyes were closed and a dark emptiness surrounded me.

A pounding sound made me stir awake. It seemed so close, like I'd suddenly gained a construction site right in my living-room. Or maybe it was in my head. Either way, it was so painful, I groaned and tried to covered my ears to muffle the noise. It didn't seem to go away though, and if anything, it just grew stronger and louder.

Go away, I wished to have said but as soon as I opened my mouth I discovered my throat was as dry as a desert and no sound could come out of it. Fuck, I thought to myself. Even my eyelids were being uncooperative. I tried to open them but it seemed as though they weighted a ton. Groaning once more I rolled over and, to my surprise, discovered I wasn't safely tucked in bed.

Nope, I was firmly planted on the floor, over a dripping, tequila-smelling carpet, and with my pajamas bottoms magically lying next to my face, serving as a very uncomfortable pillow.

"Anastasia!" I heard through the door. The voice sounded somehow familiar but I was too dizzy to associate it with anyone.

I tried to lift myself off the ground but that was proving to be harder than I was prepared for. I felt a wave of nausea travelling down my stomach and a heavy weight settling on my front lobe. Was this what a hangover felt like it? Now, I didn't know why people would want to get smashed. These sensations were the most dreadful ones I'd ever felt.

"I'll leave for now!" I heard the voice scream at me as if that would help the case of my answering it. "But I won't give up! I'll be back later on."

"Sure…" I mumbled to myself.

After a bit of a struggle I managed to get up and stroll towards the door. Luckily for me the house was small enough for that to be easily accomplished. I yanked it open but like the voice had warned, there was no one standing there. At least not right now. If the person did as told he would be back later on.

I groaned and closed the door and just as I was about to leave, my foot stepped onto something cold and smooth. Definitely not my floor. I glanced down and noticed something that resembled suspiciously to a letter.

Scrunching down to get it was a leap of troubles – my balance seemed to be somewhat off – but after a little while I managed to snatch the paper off the ground. I stumbled ungraciously towards my counter and leaned into to it, resting my elbow atop of cold stool. I gazed the envelop quizzically. 'Ms. Anastasia Steele' it read in perfect, manly letters. That's odd, I thought, while slowly opening it, as if I was afraid of what I might find.

What I found though, wasn't something I was prepared for. My eyes widened to tremendous magnitudes just before I started reading it thoroughly.

'Miss Steele,

I am writing to you as a sign of a profound desperation and last resource, if I am not allowed to explain my actions personally, as it is your rightful decision, then I ought to try and do it any way I can. For both our sakes.

I am not proud enough to deny that we started with the wrong foot or that I have antagonized your work from the early beginning, but you see, the truth is that, I'm nothing but a Monster. A ruthless, bitter, distant Monster with a profound lack of humanity. It might appear grotesque or even exaggerated but those are the only reasons I can find that could possibly subdue my actions. The past, regretfully, can not be undone but believe me when I claim I would undo it in a heart beat. The words I, so wrongly, professed were a clear evidence to my barbaric side and, despite that not being a decent excuse, is all I can give you.

I behave upon selfish needs and decisions, the intrinsic pain and complicated feelings I carry within me for so long have tormented me to the point where I am no longer able to set them aside and act altruistically or even sympathetically.

I do not wish for you to understand or even forgive anything. And even, perhaps, now my motives are plainly egoistical as I wish to alleviate my dark soul and stay away from this pity path I've followed since leaving your place, but regardless, I simply beg you to reconsider my proposition.

I would like to make emends the best I can. Do not think of it as charity or condolences. I am simply trying to do what is rightful and just. Everyone deserves a second chance, or at least so I am told, and I ask one for myself. Redemption. I hope you find it in you heart since you are clearly a purer soul and not as stained as I.

I would like you to resume working in the Grey household again, and this time, permanently. I mean it literally. I would like to offer you a position as a live-in maid. You would be assigned with a room and whichever supplies you may found needed.

It may sound absurd after everything that went through but if not for me than, at least, for the brief coworkers you acquired during these feebly past days. They have wondered dearly for you and are hopping you will consider this seriously.

At your request I will stay out of your sight even in my own home. I guess I owe you as much.

Reconsider everything, please.

And know that I am truthfully sorry by the pain my blatant words and acts caused you.

Sorrowfully,

Christian Grey'

To say I was shocked was putting it mildly. I was beyond astonished. All air vanished my body as I contemplated Mr. Grey's words over and over again. I was so confused I didn't know how I should or shouldn't feel but before I could even dwell on the subject any further, a foul taste rose to my mouth and I only had time to throw his letter over the counter, run to the bathroom, poke my head in the toilet and vomit every last bit of liquor I had in my stomach.

I had a lot to think through but I'd do it later on. Now I had more pressing matters to resolve, like puking my guts out completely.

I'd figure what to do once I was finished with that.

P.S. An amazing lovely lady brought to my attention that I should disclaim some contents of my story so that there are no confusions or attacks. I agree and will do it from now on. So, though the plot is mine, the characters and main sources of inspiration are obviously not. Also I was told some parts may resemble Gabriel's Inferno – and I believe it – but I honestly haven't read that book. I started it and went through the first few pages but it just didn't catch my attention. I don't know why, it may even turn out a very interesting thing after a while, but I wasn't really feeling it. Regardless I was inspired by others literary pieces like Jane Eyre and another books from my home country – those are historical romances but I've decided to pick up bits of them and bring to the XXI century. And so here it is. I don't owe anything I've just decided to play a bit.

P.P.S. I've read an anonymous review that said I shouldn't make Mr. Grey do a 360º spin on his personality too quickly. I agree with it and think the same way. I hate when characters change so quickly it's too unrealistic. Mr. Grey it's still the same grumpy man but he's not totally soulless and so, after hearing her story, see how poorly she lived and insult her still, he regretted his actions and is trying to do a little good. So don't worry, he'll become a kinder person along the way but it will take his own time.