Somewhere down the road

Summary: An alternative universe where Anastasia Steele signs the contract and agrees to be Christian Grey's submissive/more for a year. All is well until it's not. She wants a real relationship, he doesn't. They end their relationship and go in separate ways. He becomes even more successful while she moves to New York to become an editor. What happens if their paths cross three years later, when Ana returns to Seattle to visit her friends?

Prologue: Three years ago

"Ana, we've been through this shit! It's not that easy. I'm fifty shades fucked up, I'm not capable of giving you what you want!" he thunders, both his hand automatically reaching for his hair in frustration. I feel like shit every time he says those words. Ouch.

"But –" I try to say but he immediately cuts me off.

"Aren't you happy with our arrangement, Ana?"

Of course he'll call this an arrangement. Not a relationship. I sigh. I know better. I should've known better. We've been together for a little over a year now. This arrangement I call Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde or in layman's terms, A dominant/boyfriend relationship where he gets the kick out of beating me to almost kibbles, fucking me like there's no tomorrow and holding me as I cry myself to sleep every time it gets too much for me, then makes sweet love to me to make-up and to assure me that everything is okay. In return, I get to call him my boyfriend, I get to spend time with him outside his playroom and sometimes, his penthouse. I get all the privilege a girlfriend can ask for. Well, not everything. I still can't touch him, but at least our friends and his family think of me as his girlfriend when we're with them. But once back in his ivory tower, I can't be the girlfriend in full time, because I also have to be submissive in this arrangement. Arrangement he likes to call kinky business.

"Answer me, Anastasia," he commands, breaking me out of my reverie.

"I don't know anymore, Christian," I whisper as the tears that I've been fighting begin flood my eyes. I take a deep breath, willing the tears to stop to face him. Here goes…

"Christian, I don't want to sound like a needy, nagging person but I can't do the submissive thing anymore. It's not just the submissive thing, it's the whole arrangement. I can't play both roles simultaneously. I can't say 'yes sir' and defy you at the same time. I can't, I can't… I just want a normal relationship. I just want to be with you and not worry about you getting back at me in your playroom just because I said something you didn't like, it's exhausting," I finish, letting it all out, in the hopes that maybe he'll agree. Maybe we can just be together; a couple – a less kinky couple, I guess. His silence tells me that he is thinking, maybe contemplating or just plain upset that he can't find the right words to say – but I'm too much of a coward to look up and gauge his reaction.

"So, you don't want this anymore?" I hear him say. I sigh and finally look up to meet his guarded stance. Again, ouch. This'll hurt, I can feel it.

"I want a normal relationship, Christian."

"Answer the question, Anastasia!" he snaps.

I yelp at the tone of his voice, while the partial submissive in me is already cowering on one corner. I don't answer, I simply shake my head. A silent no. I hear him sigh, then I feel his hands on mine.

"Ana, you know I'm not capable of that kind of relationship. I don't love; I'm much too dark, too fucked-up…"

"That's not true, we've been together for a year. That right there is proof that you capable of…"

"Enough!" he says authoritatively. His gray eyes shouldering in anger and both his hands are on his head once again. "Let's not rehash, Anastasia. I'm tired of talking about this shit. You need sleep, it's late and you have work tomorrow."

This happens all the time. Every time I try to talk to him he snaps then shuts down. He rarely give me answers. He always finds something to stop the conversation. It's so frustrating. At first he would distract me with sex, which was good… good enough to forget. But when that stopped working, he would take me to his playroom, where that almost broke us apart when he hit me too much, so he started doing this… shutting down, then sulking thing for a few days until I return for our weekend get together. Where he would act all nice and sweet and gentle. Until of course I bring this shit up, again. Don't judge, yet. I have my reasons. I love him and I would gladly take his punishments and kinky stuffs but… well, I'm not a saint and frankly, I don't think my body won't bare any of the punishment stuff anymore. Anyways, going back to the subject at hand, the very few times we've had these type of discussion, I would just brush it off, knowing I would have another chance to bring it up again next time. But after two months of trying, I'm running out of options and frankly, I'm running out of time. So for the last time, I steel myself, telling myself that it's for the best over and over again.

Here goes…

"Christian, I believe we've come to an impasse," I say, bowing my head to avoid those gray eyes as I try to fight back the tears threatening to come out.

"What?" he says, incredulously.

"I'm sorry, Christian. I love you but can't do this anymore."