Two weeks.
It was funny to think how two weeks could seem like an eternity. Two very painful, never-ending weeks. Two weeks. That is how long it had been since she had put the truth out there. She had told him she had broken up with Finn. She had told him, and all he could say was, "Ok."
Ok.
What was that? She couldn't help but wonder today. Actually, she had spent a lot of time since that day thinking about those two simple letters, and the meaning, or lack thereof, they contained. Ok. So simple, so vague, so mind numbingly frustrating. He frustrated her. He always had, and probably always would. But he frustrated her in the good way. He frustrated her in the, I-can't-seem-to-funticon-without-you-so-please-stop-being-an-idiot-and-come-be-with-me kind of way. She hated that she could not, in fact, function without him. This was what had made the last two weeks particularly hard to endure.
Stop that. She scolded herself silently. Stop thinking about him. Just stop. But her efforts to resist her thoughts were futile. No, Derek Shepherd was not leaving her mind anytime soon. She sighed, and thought back to that moment two weeks ago. She remembered standing there in the elevator, finally telling him what she had been trying to hold back all day.
"You're here. You're everywhere. And I can't not tell you. You know, I've been not telling you all day because I thought it was kind, and I thought I was giving you space. But I can't not tell you because you're here, and you're you, and….I broke up with Finn"
"Ok"
"Ok….then….ok. I told you."
She could almost sense something was wrong with him. But the simple "Ok" that had exited from his lips stung. It stung so much that she could barely form a coherent thought at that point. Her mind was buzzing, trying to decipher the meaning behind the two simple syllables he had uttered. But then he walked out. He left. He left, and the elevator doors closed on her, standing there, feeling stupid, rejected and alone. Always, alone.
Two weeks had passed since then. And they still hadn't spoken. Well, that was mostly because she avoided him. Of course, he was Derek, and he'd tried to speak to her. But she'd avoided him. It was ironic, because the last thing in the world she wanted to do was avoid him. Hit him? Maybe. Kiss him? Quite possibly. Push him to the ground and make sweet passionate love to him? Very likely. But avoid him? That wasn't her plan. It just happened that way. She was hurt, she was confused, but most of all, she was stubborn. So she ignored him, and she avoided him. George and Izzie had provided useful throughout this process of avoidance. He'd call, or come by the house, and they would claim she wasn't there. Even if was sitting up in her room watching him from the window, fighting every urge to run down the stairs and demand answers from him. Demand a response that was more than, "Ok." But she didn't. She stayed in her room, she didn't return his calls, and she found excuses not to see his patients or scrub in on his surgeries. She knew she'd have to deal with him soon. Hell, she wanted to deal with him, she wanted her answers. But instead, she avoided, and she waited. Waited until she could overpower the voice in the back of her mind telling her that his "ok" meant he didn't want her, need her, the way she wanted and needed him. So she waited.