A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for the incredible response to my one-shot, "Living In Your Heart." I know it's been a while since I'd written anything, and it felt so good to come back to so much support and encouragement. So, thank you so much for that!
I started writing this story almost a year ago. It's loosely based on a prompt that I got from KelsBama11 back in December, 2015. I wasn't making much progress on the story so I put it aside for a while; but in light of the recent Addek revolution, I decided to pick it back up again. KelsBama11, if you're reading, thanks so much for the great prompt—hopefully I can do it justice.
I hope you all enjoy this first chapter, and I'd love to know what you think. Thanks so much for reading!
Try and Catch the Wind
When rain has hung the leaves with tears,
I want you near to kill my fears,
To help me to leave all my blues behind.
For standin' in your heart
Is where I want to be
And long to be.
Ah, but I may as well try and catch the wind.
-Donovan
It was supposed to be a simple getaway. Nothing more, nothing less. Just a few days in the Hamptons. That was all it was ever supposed to be.
She had no idea why she chose to go to the Hamptons that weekend in July. She knew she needed to get away. She'd even come up with a convincing cover story about why she needed to get away … because she wasn't ready to acknowledge the truth out loud yet. But she had no idea why she chose the Hamptons.
Maybe she chose the Hamptons because she used to go there every summer. Or maybe because being there reminded her of a better time in her life. Maybe there was no rhyme or reason to why she chose to go there. Maybe it was just random chance.
But regardless of the reason, she headed off to the Hamptons. Said goodbye to Naomi—"One last getaway before I start working at the practice!" she'd told her friend with a forced smile—and boarded the plane from Los Angeles to New York.
She arrived at her place in the Hamptons late in the afternoon with a large suitcase and some other necessities—a few bottles of wine and a few pints of ice cream that she'd picked up at nearby liquor and grocery stores. Maybe she'd end up cooking something more substantial for herself, but she kind of doubted it. This weekend was supposed to be about figuring things out … clearing her head. What better way to do that than wine and ice cream?
But the minute she opened the door to her house, she wondered if the weekend had been a mistake. Derek had given her the house in the Hamptons in the divorce, but she hadn't yet been back to redecorate it. So, she didn't just open the door to her house; she opened the door to a past that she'd been trying to move on from.
Framed pictures of her and Derek adorned the entryway and nearly every available surface in the house. Her eyes landed on one picture in particular—her and Derek walking together on the beach at sunset. His arms were wrapped around her waist; and hers around his. And Savvy, being a hopeless romantic, couldn't resist capturing the picture-perfect moment.
Swallowing thickly, Addison forced herself to look away from the picture. But no matter where she looked, it was hard not to see Derek. And it was harder not to see Addison-and-Derek. From the living room couch, where she and Derek used to cuddle sweetly under plush blankets; to the master bedroom where they'd proven time and time again that toe-curling sex wasn't just a figure of speech.
"You're going to make yourself crazy if you keep thinking like this," she muttered to herself. "You'll never survive this weekend."
With that in mind, she opened a bottle of wine, figuring that a glass of merlot would help take the edge off.
She was right. One glass felt good. Two felt better. She had just started her third glass when she heard a noise. She looked around the room, trying to figure out where the sound was coming from. But the noise had stopped before she could investigate.
She was about to take another sip of wine when she heard the noise again. Louder this time. And Addison could tell it was coming from the front door.
She crept towards the front door as quietly as she could. Her heart was beating wildly, her stomach was in knots; she was clutching the wine glass in her hand so tightly her knuckle was turning white. There was definitely someone at the front door. And whoever was there was trying to break in.
"H-hello," she called out shakily, as the intruder continued to struggle to open the front door.
"Hello," she called out again, her body trembling in fear. There was no doubt in her mind; someone was trying to force their way in.
"Whoever you are … you should just go away. I'm not alone," she lied, doing her best to scare the intruder off. "My husband's here with me. And he's a cop. A big, strong cop, who will arr-"
But she was cut off by the front door swinging open violently. And Addison, in a moment of panic, did the only thing she could think of—she screamed and threw her glass of wine at the intruder.
"What the hell, Addison?" Derek complained, looking down at his merlot-covered shirt.
"Derek?" Addison breathed as her ex-husband stared at her in confusion. "Wh-what are you doing here?"
"I…" Derek trailed off uncomfortably. "What are you doing here? And why are you so jumpy?" he asked, changing the subject and looking down at his wine-stained shirt.
"I thought you were a burglar or a murderer," Addison confessed, her cheeks tinging red in embarrassment. "I'm sorry about the wine … and your shirt."
A mischievous smile spread across Derek's face. "So, I couldn't fully understand you from outside, but you mentioned something about being married…?"
"Shut up, Derek."
"And did I hear you correctly when you said your new husband's a cop?"
Derek, of course, knew these things weren't true. But to so many people Addison was always the picture of grace and composure. But Derek also knew a side of Addison that most people didn't—a woman who found herself in more than her fair share of awkward and humiliating situations. Awkward and humiliating situations that, even when he was angry or indifferent, he almost always found endearing.
"I was trying to scare away whoever was at the door," Addison explained.
Derek smirked. "I guess it didn't work."
"No, I guess not. But, wait," she said, growing serious, "you never told me what you're doing here."
"I, uh, I don't know," Derek said evasively. "But, um, I'll book a hotel for tonight. I just …"
"Derek," Addison interrupted, sensing her ex-husband's discomfort and taking pity on him.
"Yeah?"
"Do you … do you maybe want to have a drink here first? You know, before you leave for your hotel."
"Really? Are you sure?"
Addison shrugged. "It's the least I could do. After all, I did ruin your shirt. Although," she smirked, "it's a wood-chopping fisherman shirt, so I actually think I did you a favor. But that's beside the point." She reached for a wine glass. "Is merlot okay?"
"Merlot's great."
"Here," she said, handing Derek a glass of wine, before pouring a smaller glass for herself. "I'm already two glasses in."
"Well, I've got a glass here," Derek grinned, gesturing to the glass in his hand. "And I've got about a glass on my shirt, so I'm almost caught up."
Addison chuckled.
"Speaking of which," Derek continued, "I should probably change out of my shirt. But don't worry," he teased, shooting Addison a playful wink, "I'll change in another room. After all, you're a married woman."
xxxxx
"It looks like the weather's starting to get bad," Addison commented, peering out the window from her seat on the living room couch.
Derek nodded in agreement as he continued to nurse his wine.
They'd covered the small talk—her new job at Oceanside Wellness; his job at Seattle Grace. She was sparing with the details, talking more about Naomi and Sam than the actual job. He over-shared, telling her everything from the surgeries he'd performed to the new items on the hospital cafeteria's menu to Nurse Olivia's new haircut.
Both were certain about one thing—the other one was hiding something.
"I should probably think about finding a hotel," Derek began, draining what was left of his wine. "Before the weather gets too—"
But before he could get the words out, he was interrupted by a loud crash of lightening. The sky opened up and rain began falling in heavy sheets.
"Maybe you should wait until the weather clears up," Addison suggested, raising her voice so she could be heard over the wind whipping through the trees. "It's way too dangerous to drive in this."
Derek nodded in agreement, and both made their way towards the window to get a better view of the hurricane-like weather outside.
"It looks really bad out there," Addison murmured, unable to take her eyes away from the torrential storm outside the window.
"Hey, Addie…?" Derek began, his eyes shooting upward, towards the flickering ceiling lights. "Do we have flashlights or candles? Because I'm pretty sure we're gonna lose power."
The words had barely escaped his lips when another crash of thunder sounded and everything turned dark.
"Crap," Addison muttered. She and Derek stared into the darkness; flashes of lightening illuminating each other's figures in the otherwise pitch black room. Not a word was spoken, but everything was understood—he'd be spending the night.
"I think there are some flashlights upstairs in the closet," Addison began, breaking the silence. "And there should be some candles in the kitchen. How about you get the flashlights and I'll get the candles?"
"No," Derek said, shaking his head. "We should probably stick together."
Addison raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Why"
"Because," Derek chuckled, raising his voice so he could be heard above the downpour, "you saw what happened to my shirt when you got scared. And that was only wine. There's no way I'm going to let you run around this house alone in the dark carrying fire. That's a risk we don't need to take."
Addison shook her head in amusement. "Fine," she conceded, doing her best to stifle a chuckle. "We'll stick together."
xxxxx
The living room looked romantic. Between the soft glow of the candles scattered throughout the room and the glasses of wine on the coffee table, it was hard not to notice. And while Addison and Derek were well aware of this fact, they didn't vocalize it. They knew better.
"More wine?" Addison offered, holding up the bottle of merlot?
"I, uh…"
"You're not driving," Addison pointed out.
"That's true," Derek agreed, handing his glass to his ex-wife. "Thanks."
Addison gave him a small smile as she poured him a generous glass of wine.
"Whoa, are you trying to get me drunk?"
Addison shook her head. "No, I'm just being a good host. I'm just … the ice cream!" she gasped, cutting herself off.
"What?" Derek asked in confusion.
"I have four pints of ice cream in the freezer," Addison explained. "And they're melting as we speak."
Derek chuckled. "There seems like an easy solution for that problem." He gave his ex-wife a teasing smile. "I hope you're hungry."
They reentered the living room a few minutes later, carrying four pints of ice cream, a couple of spoons, and two bowls.
"Good flavors," Derek approved, taking the top off the coffee-flavored ice cream and scooping some into his bowl.
"I'm glad you think so."
"Is that chocolate chip cookie dough?" Derek asked, gesturing towards the ice cream in his ex-wife's bowl.
"Yeah."
"Pass some over here. That looks good."
Addison chuckled. Derek rarely ate junk food. And when he did, it was a scoop or two of coffee-flavored ice cream. This was completely unusual for him.
"More wine?" Derek offered, noticing that Addison's glass was empty.
"Thanks," Addison nodded, handing him her glass.
"So, tell me," Derek began in between mouthfuls of cookie dough ice cream. "Do they even eat ice cream in LA? Or do they only eat frozen yogurt?"
Addison shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted.
Derek looked at his ex-wife curiously. His question was supposed to be a joke. But Addison certainly hadn't taken it that way. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, half joking, half serious. "I don't see the appeal of LA. I know people love it. But I don't get what's so great about it."
"In all honesty, I haven't really explored it that much," Addison confessed. "So far, I've spent all of my time at the practice getting my stuff set up."
"Can I tell you something without you getting angry?" Derek asked, draining his wine and refilling his glass.
Addison raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"I don't see you in a private practice," Derek admitted, slurring his words slightly. "You're a surgeon. You live for cutting and blood and cases that only you can solve."
Addison swallowed thickly before taking a long sip of her wine. "Can I tell you something?" she asked, not giving Derek time to respond. "I'm not sure I see myself working at a private practice. I just … I needed a change."
Derek nodded slowly. "Can I ask you something?"
"I guess."
"If you went to LA because you needed a change, why did you come here … to the Hamptons … where everything's familiar? Why aren't you in LA?"
Addison ran a hand through her hair uncomfortably. "Can I tell you something?"
"Sure."
"What I just said about moving to LA because I needed a change … it's a lie. Or, at least, not the whole truth."
"What do you mean?"
Addison sighed heavily. "When I first went to LA to visit Naomi and Sam, I was in a bad place. And when I came back from visiting them, I was in an even worse place. Nothing in my life made sense anymore. And it just seemed like all the things I wanted and had worked so hard for were slipping away. So when Naomi offered me the job out there, I took it. I knew that it was completely wrong for me, but I took it anyway because it allowed me to walk away … from everything."
Derek nodded slowly, letting his ex-wife words sink in.
"But the thing is," Addison continued, "nothing's changed. I'm still in a bad place … just with better weather." She refilled her wine glass and took a long sip before meeting her ex-husband's eyes sadly. "Go ahead and judge me."
But he couldn't judge her. Not even a little bit. After all, walking away was what he did best. "Can I ask you a question? Why were you in a bad place?"
She shook her head, silently communicating that she wasn't ready to go there.
"Then can I tell you something?" Derek asked.
"Okay."
"I'm in a bad place too. That's why I came here this weekend. I needed to get out of Seattle."
Addison nodded mutely, encouraging Derek to continue.
"I'm not happy," Derek admitted vulnerably. "I just … I thought I knew what I wanted. I was certain I knew what I wanted. But … maybe I didn't."
Addison swallowed thickly. Over eleven-plus years of marriage, she'd become very good at reading the subtext of Derek's veiled words. "Can I ask you something?"
"Yeah."
"You never made an effort to get back together with Meredith after she dumped you at Cristina and Burke's … whatever you want to call it."
"That was a statement, not a question," Derek pointed out, a small smile gracing his lips. "But, no. I haven't."
"And …?" Addison asked, emboldened by the alcohol.
"I don't plan to. Go ahead and judge me," he said, echoing her words from earlier.
"Can I tell you something?" Addison asked unsurely.
Derek nodded.
"I can't have kids. That's why I was in a bad place when I moved out to LA."
"What?" Derek gulped, a raw, sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. "How did you…? Who told you?"
"Naomi."
"Addison, I … I'm sorry." He really was. Sorry and sad.
Because none of it felt fair. Addison had dedicated her life to bringing other people's babies into the world and saving sick babies. And the fact that she couldn't have kids felt like a cruel joke.
"Can I tell you something?" Derek asked; his voice laced with emotion.
Addison nodded mutely, doing her best to maintain her composure.
"You'd make a great mother."
"Don't say that."
"You would," Derek insisted, moving closer to her and instinctively running his thumb over the top of her hand.
"It doesn't matter," Addison said sadly. "Because we'll never know."
"Addison, there are other-"
"Maybe this is my punishment," Addison interrupted. "You know, for being an adulterer."
"Addison…" Derek trailed off, as he watched his ex-wife battle against her emotions. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, not giving Addison time to respond. "It takes two people to end a marriage. You have to forgive yourself at some point."
Addison shook her head. "No. I don't think I'll ever fully forgive myself," she admitted. "I think in one way or another I'll always hate myself for what I did."
Derek swallowed thickly, inching even closer to her. "I don't."
Addison met his eyes. "What?" she breathed.
Derek gave her a soft smile, tracing along her jawline with his thumb. "I don't. Even if I wanted to, I just … couldn't."
She didn't know if it was the sincerity in Derek's voice or the warmth emanating from his eyes, but things felt different. And at the same time, familiar. And suddenly, she was leaning in. And so was he. She could feel his breath on her skin … his hands in her hair. She could smell the familiar scent of his Tom Ford cologne. (She liked the fact that Seattle hadn't changed everything about Derek).
She could feel her heart beating faster. She could hear Derek's breathing growing heavier as he pulled her against him, their lips mere centimeters apart. She could hear … her phone ringing.
And just like that, reality crashed down on them hard.
"It's Naomi," Addison mumbled, fumbling to answer her phone. "Hello?" she said, bringing the phone to her ear.
"Addison," Naomi's voice rang out. "I just saw on the news that there's a terrible storm in the Hamptons and … why are you breathing heavily? Are you okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine," Addison reassured her friend. "The storm is really bad and we lost power, and-"
"We?" Naomi asked, cutting her friend off. "Who's we?"
"Oh," Addison stammered. "Uh, we is me … and, um … my neighbors. We're all doing fine."
"You went outside to check on your neighbors during the middle of a torrential storm?" Naomi asked skeptically.
"Well, uh, we all kind of just checked on each other," Addison supplied, hoping she was being convincing.
"Addison…" Naomi trailed off in her signature condescending voice. "Is there someone there with you right now?"
"What? No," Addison insisted.
"I don't believe you."
"Nae, I'm telling you; it's just me, my wine, and my ice cream … which is currently melting. So if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to it."
"Addie, are you drunk?"
"I don't know. I guess I'm somewhere in between tipsy and drunk. Look, I've really gotta go."
"Okay," Naomi sighed. "Stay safe, Addison. And if you need anything, I'm just a phone call away."
"Thanks, Nae. I'll see you in a couple of days." She hung up the phone and turned to Derek. "That was Naomi," she said, stating the obvious.
"Oh."
"She was just checking in because she heard about the storm. Apparently, it's newsworthy. And I guess it's probably a good thing she called. Stopped us both from doing something we probably would have regretted. And-"
"Can I tell you something?" Derek interrupted, his voice just above a whisper. "I don't think it's a good thing she called."
"Really?" Addison breathed, her eyes connecting with his.
"Really."
"Oh, thank god," Addison whispered, abandoning all reserve, and crashing her lips against Derek's.
He kissed her back just as passionately. It was tongues battling and hands desperately exploring…reacquainting. And clothes being discarded in an urgent haste.
In the morning, they could blame it on one of many things … the wine; the blackout; their mutual unhappiness; or even some combination. But tonight they weren't thinking about the morning. Tonight the morning didn't matter. Tonight all that mattered was him and her.
And as things would go, tomorrow the only thing that would matter would be him and her. Because even though the storm would stop and the power would come back on, he wouldn't leave and go to a hotel. He'd stay with her. Him and her in their house in the Hamptons; completely shut out from the rest of the world.
xxxxx
"Well, I guess that's everything," Derek said, as he helped Addison load her last suitcase into her rental car.
"I guess it is."
The weekend had come and gone. And while it had been completely different than anything either of them had planned, it was exactly what they both had needed.
"I, uh, I guess I'll see you around," Addison stammered, leaning in and giving Derek an awkward hug.
"Uh, yeah," Derek mumbled. "I guess so."
"Have a safe flight back, Derek."
"You too. It was … it was really good to see you, Addie."
Addison smiled at her ex-husband warmly. "It was really good seeing you too," she said, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek before turning to get into her car.
"Addie, wait," Derek called out.
"Yeah?" Addison breathed, turning and looking at her ex-husband expectantly … almost hopefully.
Derek swallowed thickly, neither he nor Addison able to find the willpower to look away from each other. "I, um … here," he said, handing her back his key to the beach house. "You got the Hamptons in the divorce. Technically, this is yours."
Addison shook her head. "Keep it."
"What?"
"Keep it," she repeated, handing him the key back, and placing her hand over his.
A small smile graced Derek's features as he stuck the key in his pocket. "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Now I really need to get going," she continued, "or I'm gonna miss my flight and Naomi will never let me hear the end of it." Though in all honesty, missing her flight didn't seem like such a bad thing. "See you later, Derek."
"Yeah. Later."
And with that, she got into her car and pulled out of the driveway, overcome by a feeling of sadness that she knew she had no right to feel.
It was supposed to be a simple getaway. But that's the thing about simple … it rarely ever is.
