Saturday night. Joe's. The almost sickening smell of alcohol in the air seemed to remind me more of her. Is that tequila? She was that girl, and I'm still that guy. As an intern once told me—and a smart one at that—ham or eggs?

I'm the ham, now. But I wasn't cooked soon enough.

Damn. There they are. There she is.

I was supposed to be a teacher to them; to her. All I taught her was how to hurt. I'm paying the price. I'll never forgive myself.

Addison is everything a man should want; everything a man would want. She's beautiful, funny, smart. Her foreplay is amazing, the sex even better. Like I said, everything. Why the hell don't I want Addison?

It's not like I didn't try. I did. I moved to Seattle to escape her. Yet she came. We're Addison and Derek. The perfect, happy couple. We're married. And we went back to New York.

I keep replaying that scene in my head. She's there, at my doorstep (if trailers can even have doorsteps). The rain pours down. Her red hair, so beautiful and yet so… I don't even know, stuck flat to her head, dripping. Eyes red and puffy, she didn't say a word. Just walked into my arms and embraced me.

I was struggling with a choice. Meredith, or Addison. Since that first day in the bar, Mer was that girl. The one I talked about earlier. I chased after her. I was married and I chased after her. We were together. Meredith and Derek. And then Addie shows up one day. Satan.

And then I caved. I picked Addison. She embraced me in the rain, pain written all over her drenched face. I picked her. That was that.

Here I am, in Joe's. Seattle, once again. It's more home than our gorgeous New York brownstone. Yet I'm back in Seattle with a dinky little trailer. Where it rains more than anything else. Why? I haven't the foggiest idea. Except for her. She's the reason—my everything. All I need.

Oh shit. Joe's looking at me. Looking at me like, what the fuck are you doing?

I look unhappily at my tequila (her favourite), and wander over to the bar. I can't watch from afar any longer.

George sees me first. His eyes kind of bug out in the way they do, and he stares me down (guess he took a lesson from Callie), and says quite simply, "Go." George is so sensitive, and yet here he is, near-yelling to defend the girl who broke him.

I see Meredith's eyes go from shocked to pained. She looks down.

I look down, too. I'm wearing that red shirt. The one she seduced me in. No, that's wrong. The one I fell for her in. This wasn't planned. My confidence falls, watching her look down at the table.

I look, too, at her drink. It's not tequila, as far as I can tell. It's water. Since when did Meredith Grey drink water? What happened to her best friend Jose?

I try to pick up the pieces of my shattered confidence and utter, "Hey."

Christina nudges her, and they both stand up, and leave. Just like that.

Strike one for Derek Shepherd.