His Choice

"Derek, have you ever thought that even if I am Satan and an adulterous bitch that I still might be the love of your life?"

Those words had haunted him throughout the day. It was the reason he hadn't signed the divorce papers Addison gave him immediately. It was the reason he stalled for time with Meredith by saying he needed to read them through before signing them. It was the reason he was staring at them so hard that it was a surprise they hadn't caught up in flames yet.

Did he still love Addison? In the earlier days of their relationship they certainly seemed to be… compatible, he suppose, could partially cover it. But there was no explosive passion. There was no love that withstood the test of time. Maybe Gwen Graber was right. But she probably was. She'd seen so many divorce cases that she'd probably got bored by the similarities in her cases. He and Addison did marry young, at the time when all that puppy love and "I've got a crush on you" thing was still around and raging. With a jolt, he realised that he didn't even pay her that much attention even when they began their fellowships. For the better part of eleven years, they had not talked much, not unless he needed her for a consult or such. That was the extent of their conversation. And everyday, without fail, he'd work himself to the point of exhaustion, subconsciously not wanting to face his wife when he returned home, so that he can blame everything on fatigue and just sleep. All those years, he's been frozen, existing but not living, his life consisting of only two things: working and avoiding serious conversations.

Then Addison pulled her little stunt with Mark, his supposed best friend, and he'd been surprised that, rather than betrayal of the heart, he'd only got his pride bruised. His heart remained unscathed. It was time to leave New York behind. Strangely, now that he thought of it, he had Addison and Mark to thank for his rebirth in Seattle. Without Addison's adulterous act, he would have not uprooted so quickly, instead of dragging his feet as he was apt to do, and moved to Seattle without another word. And there, at Emerald City Bar, he'd met Meredith. Even then, before he'd started drinking with her, he knew she was special, that she was someone he wanted to see again. And that feeling doubled when she kicked him out of her house the next day after a wild night together without so much as a by-your-leave. Very interesting woman. And somehow, by a twist of fate, he learnt that she was one of the new interns at Seattle Grace.

His lips kicked up as he recalled their first meeting at the hospital. She'd half-panicked at the idea of sleeping with her new boss. Knowing the rules himself, he couldn't help but turn into his flirtatious self, trying to charm her into the woman he knew last night, the woman who was passionate and generous. And he honestly couldn't think of a greater and more satisfying challenge of demanding her surrender. Come to that, he didn't think he'd bothered to work hard at getting what he wanted either, with the exception of his title as one of the best neurosurgeon in the country. He'd felt more alive then than any time during his marriage.

His smile faded as his gaze focused once more on the divorce papers. What should he do? He wanted to sign those papers so Addison could leave, and he and Meredith could start over. But would it be right, abandoning his wife of eleven years? On the one hand, reconciling with Addison meant he and Meredith wouldn't have the intern-attending rule hanging over their heads, and besides, their relationship hadn't always been easy, while Addison was his wife, an attending, and his family for eleven years, the wife who never demanded anything (apparently because she finds her own way out, nagged a small voice in his head). But after the time he had spent with Meredith, their lively encounters, professional disagreements, playful banter, giving-a-helping-hand filled relationship, he couldn't help but feel just a little reluctant to go back to his previous numb-with-work, all-professional, boring half-dead existence, with an aching loneliness he'd been ignoring through his years of marriage, never knowing what he'd lost until he'd found it with Meredith, then losing her with the arrival of Addison at Seattle.

Which did he want then: a life with obstacles, or an existence without them?

He sought his wife out just before he went off duty.

"Oh, hey," Addison said uncertainly, when he called her name. After a brief moment of silence when he just stood there looking at her, she continued, "So… have you signed them?"

He took a deep breath. "Addison, I have considered what you say, and I agree that although you are Satan and an adulterous bitch, you still might be the love of my life," Derek began. A brief flicker of hope appeared in Addison's eyes. But that hope was crushed when Derek handed the divorce papers to her, signed.

She didn't comprehend the complete contradictive actions. "Derek?"

"You might be… but, I'm sorry Addison. You're…" He hesitated, then settled for something less hurtful, "not any longer."

At that, her features became absolutely blank. "Oh," was all she managed to say. They just stood there, the married-but-divorced-in-all-but-name couple, not knowing what to say next.

Addison finally broke the silence. "So, I guess… that's it then."

"It is," he agreed.

"Well then, goodbye… Derek."

"Goodbye, Addison."

He started walking off towards the hospital's exit, but Addison's unsteady voice stopped him. "Do you love her?"

Slowly, he turned back towards her, towards the wife who would soon be out of his life, maybe forever. "I think I am, Addison." A look of wonderment crossed his face as he realised what he had avoided until now. "Yes, I do. I love her."

Addison swallowed hard, wishing that the love in Derek's eyes could always be reserved for her and her alone, but clearly it was not to be. "Oh…" she managed a small, deceptive smile, hiding her deep sorrow. "OK."

With a last sad smile, Derek walked out of Seattle Grace Hospital, sent off by the brooding gaze of his ex-wife. That was when his actions caught up with him. He was no longer married. And he could start anew. With her. Meredith.

It was that glorious thought that made him hurry across the street to Joe's bar, where Meredith was waiting for him. The momentum he built up was so intense that he all but burst through the door, frantically scanning Joe's customers for the only one he wanted – needed – to see that night. And when he spotted her, or more accurately, her back, he fairly ran up to her and lifted her up in his arms, whispering her name into her ear in such a joyful tone as left no one in the dark about his decision.

Caught by surprise, yet recognising the strong arms that encircled her, she shrieked delightedly as he spun her crazily around. When at last he let her feet touch solid ground – and only because they were both dizzy beyond belief – she buried her hands in his oh-so-delicious hair and pulled him close for a lengthy, heated kiss. And when they eventually broke apart, they smiled into each other's eyes, love shining so brightly through them that no one could have missed it had they tried.

Wishing the rest of the spectators would just crawl into a hole and disappear, Derek contented himself with kissing his love, knowing that soon, very soon (and in about five minutes time, if he had his way), he would be able to lock the rest of the world away and make wild, passionate love to her. He only surfaced from their kiss long enough to tell her decisively and happily, "We're free."

– Finis –