Disclaimer: Not my characters. Spoilers for that 2nd season Christmas episode, and also for Titanic.

Possibly Thinking

After fifteen years of walking in three inch heels, one would think it would get easier.

Addison Montgomery-Shepherd found this wasn't true as she chased her husband down one of the long corridors at Seattle Grace. If he would just stop for a moment, she could catch her breath and stop the prickling in her toes. "I just need a few minutes." She tried to keep her voice down as she gasped after him.

He rounded a corner quickly, and she skidded, as not to lose her balance. "I want your opinion on these sweaters. Which color do you think your mom will like best?" She held the magazine up to his back.

He sped away, trying to ignore her.

"Can you just stop for a second?" She grabbed his arm, which he promptly yanked away. He turned into the radiology dark room, her on his heels.

Finally, he stopped to hold an x-ray up to the light.

It was dark and her calves were aching. She waited. He took a few deep breaths, lowered the x-ray, and turned on the light. Scowling, he snatched the magazine from her hands, "I like the red one." He threw it down on a nearby counter. "Will you stop following me now?" He rested his hands on the counter and looked away.

She walked over to him and swallowed anxiously. He was so different, and rude. She supposed he had the right to be. She missed him, and wanted to talk and laugh and kiss like they used to. "You can't spare five minutes for your wife?" Her attempt to sound stronger failed, and he noticed her lack of control.

He glanced at her. "I'm sorry. I'm busy." He fingered through a couple papers. "Something went wrong with my patient...and I just don't have time."

She stared at him, even though he wouldn't acknowledge her. She decided that talking about work was better than not talking at all. "What happened with your patient?"

Clearly, his mind was somewhere else. "Uh..." He mumbled distractedly, "his personality changed for an unknown reason."

This sounded ironically familiar to her. "Will I see you at home tonight?"

"No," he was quick to answer that question. "I want to get this guy home for Christmas."

"But what about our Christmas?" They loved the holiday season.

"That's a little selfish, don't you think?" He still didn't look up.

She almost couldn't believe him, but she had no rebuttal. "I suppose," she leaned over the counter, "Hey, do you remember that Christmas when we spent the entire day baking cookies?"

She shuffled closer, hopefully, until her arm touched his sleeve. He took a long pause, and she wondered if he was paying attention. His gaze hadn't moved from the x-rays, even though there wasn't a light under them. She was about to give up and leave when he asked, "Was that the year we played football in the snow?"

She remembered it vividly. "Yeah," she said excitedly, "You guys were bored, and when you came in, you were all wet and dirty. Mom was so mad."

He didn't respond, and still seemed to be intently concentrating on nothing.

She knew it was pathetic, but, somedays, she lived on the little moments that he paid attention to her. She tried again to get a reaction from him. "Do you think they're going to be angry with us because we aren't going home this year?" She desperately missed Christmases with the Shepherd family.

"I don't know," he sighed, irritated, "Probably."

She guessed he didn't want to talk about it. His apathy towards his family seemed out of character. Even before the affair, when he was distant and indifferent, he still cared about his family. It destroyed her to know that she could be the cause of his separation from his family.

She remained silent, and touched the sleeve of his white coat. It was comforting to be near him, especially in a rainy, unfamiliar city where no one was more than an acquaintance.

He didn't pull away.

But then it was gone, as quickly as it had begun. "Addison, it's been five minutes."

"Oh." She backed away and pointed to the door. "I'll let you work. Save lives." She walked towards the exit and turned around before she reached the doorway. "Will I see you at Joe's tonight?"

"Maybe." He looked up to watch her leave.

Reluctantly, she forced herself away from the room, magazine in hand. She was no more than ten yards away from the radiology room before she knocked shoulders with Meredith Grey.

Of course. She should have suspected Derek wanted her out of there before his rendezvous with the intern. Earlier, when she wasn't used to Derek's friendship with Meredith, something like this might have bothered her. But now, she was an accepting person. Acceptance of this life.

Or maybe she was just numb.

Either way, she apologized quickly to Meredith, laughing and making a joke that probably wasn't funny.

Still, it was enough. Meredith laughed without saying much of anything, and left hurriedly. Addison let out a breath of relief. The inter made her very nervous. She didn't know what to expect from the woman her husband preferred. She couldn't make herself turn around and watch Meredith enter the radiology room. She resigned herself to the fact that Meredith would always be in Derek's life from now on.

But even with the petite intern running around, she still believed that Derek could love her.

"I fell in love with her, and that doesn't go away because I decided to stay with you." He looked at her as if there was nothing he could do about it. His hair was perfect, she noticed. Every dark brown wave in place.

He turned in his seat to face away from her. He didn't want to look at her.

Her eyelids fell over her eyes as she heard his words in clarity. The first time around she didn't quite hear him, or didn't want to. But then it replayed in her head, and sunk in, and stung her everywhere.

Finally, he had paid attention to her, spoken to her directly and honestly, but she wanted him to take it all back. She supposed this made her some sort of a hypocrite.

She held her breath in fear of what he would say next. In that time, she realized exactly what he was implying.

His commitment to her was stopping him from having a good Christmas.

She looked back up at him. Except for the perfect hair, he appeared miserable. His eyes shrunk into his head, and his stubble shadowed his face. He glanced at her, probably disappointed she was still here.

He was hoping she'd storm out and leave him for good. That's what any sane person would do.

He was in love with Meredith. The words kept coming back to her, slicing through her chest every time. She wanted to cry out, to beg him for understanding and memory.

She couldn't make him love her, though. She opened her mouth to say something, but a mucous-y sob caught in the back of her throat. She had to drink a half glass of buttered rum before she felt confident enough to speak. "I'm sorry the Christmas season didn't turn out that well for you this year." She had tried to make it the same, but the tree didn't fit inside the trailer, and she hadn't found a church yet in Seattle.

"Me too." He looked down at his drink. Did he have to be so blatantly disappointed with her? His little "I don't want to hurt you or leave you" disclaimer didn't mean anything, and they were supposed to be working on their marriage. It was supposed to be different than New York. That's why she was living in a horrid trailer in Seattle.

Then again, from the second she saw him, and he looked back at her, she knew she didn't deserve him. The nerdy, nervous redhead, and Derek Shepherd, in all his wonderful qualities? He was too perfect to be true, and he liked her. It had taken her a long time to feel confident with him, and after ten years of marriage, he ignored her and destroyed everything she had built.

She had to get him out of there before he saw how upset she was. Her emotions embarrassed her, and she knew he would pity her. "Isn't Meredith having a Christmas get-together tonight?" She tried to sound carefree.

"Yeah," He replied, confused. He cupped the glass of his drink in both of his hands, and turned it in circles with his thumbs.

"You should go." They both shouldn't have to be miserable, and his happiness was much closer than hers.

He laughed bitterly. "Yeah, sure." He threw a sip of his drink back.

"I'm serious." She couldn't believe that she had to convince him to spend time with the woman he loved. "Meredith would want you there. She's going through a tough time right now." She needed to be alone in order to wallow at her inablitiyto keep her husband satisfied.

"That's ridiculous." He scoffed, "I'm not going to leave you alone on Christmas." He was looking for a way to leave guilty-free.

She gave it to him. "I'll be fine. Callie and I were going to hang out anyway." She smiled, tears shining in her eyes.

In no time he was halfway out of his chair, his eyebrows raised in excitement. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," She didn't know how she was sounding so cheerful. "I trust you." Actually, she didn't. But still, the denial set in, and she let herself believe that there was a chance he wasn't sleeping with Meredith. "I want you to have a good Christmas."

He put his coat on in a matter of seconds, and he leaned forward to touch her hand. "Thanks, Addison." His eyes appeared livelier than when he had walked in, exahausted from work. Apparently, just the thought of Meredith awakened his spirit. He was almost out the door, looking back at her. "Have a good time with Callie!"

"I will!" It was almost sarcastic. She waved, wondering if he could tell she was lying, or if he just chose to ignore it.

He was safely out of view when she crumbled. Luckily, Joe's provided a dark atmosphere, hiding the moisture on her cheeks. Her head collapsed onto her folded arms. She let a soft whine escape. Somehow, she had ruined her second chance with him.

Now, she was stuck here, in a dirty bar full of people she hated, trapped in by the rain, without her husband who loved someone else. If there was a game of whose life sucks the most, she would have a good shot at victory.

Her stomach wrenched at the thought of Derek's love for someone else. It would make his life eaiser and happier if she just disappeared. Gone. He probably wouldn't even notice.

She wiped the snot from her nose and walked over to the bar to pay her tab. Joe noticed her puffy eyes and flushed complexion. "Addison? Are you okay? Where's Derek?"

She sluggishly dug through her purse for cash. "He left a couple of minutes ago.

"Can I call him?" Joe reached for the phone. "Or a cab?"

"No! Don't call him!" She lowered her voice. "I don't want to bother him anymore." She was so tired of being annoying.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to pick you up," Joe said in his overly confident, reassuring tone.

"I'm not drunk!" That seemed to be what he was implying. "I'm just going for a walk."

Joe tried to stop her. "Now, come here. Sit. Talk. Have another drink if you wish."

It didn't work. She was almost out the door. "It's not going to help." She shook her head hopelessly. He couldn't play therapist this time.

Her situation wasn't fixable.

She left, out into the sprinkling rain. It didn't really bother her. Wandering down the street, she realized she didn't have anywhere to go, in particular.

Her knowledge of the city wasn't impressive; she knew the route to the trailer and back, and that was about it. She hadn't the time or desire to go anywhere else.

But now, she knew she couldn't face the emptiness of the trailer or the loneliness of the woods.

She looked at every shop on the street. The city was nice, with all the interesting people walking around. It distracted her from thinking about Derek, and where he was at that very moment.

She kept walking and the city grew more sparse, clusters of buildings every other block or so. Water replaced concrete.

She found a park near the shoreline. There was a footbridge lining the outside of the path, offering a more scenic view of the ocean. It was narrow, but protective railings held her in. She looked out at the water, twenty feet below. The wind forced her to take a breath of humid, salty air. She liked it when her hair blew back, out of her face. Derek used to say he could see every color of red in her hair when it was like that.

It was best not to think about him.

She looked around at the park. No one was near. There was a cement block that was holding the railing up, which created a space between the railings. She tilted her head, gauging if she could fit through. She pushed herself onto the block, and scoooted over to the two foot wide ledge in front of the railing. If she held onto the railing from behind, she felt safe facing the water.

It was exhilerating, knowing she could die at one misstep.

Up on the bridge, her disastrous marriage didn't matter, nor her affair. She was alive.

The water was dark. It wouldn't take a lot to swallow her up.

She checked her cell phone. It had been almost an hour. Surprisingly, there was a missed call from Derek. She stuck the phone back in her pocket.

If he was happy with Meredith, there was no reason it should be ruined by the reminder of her.

She kept seeing them laughing and kissing. She didn't want to see that anymore.

It would be so easy to disappear. Her gaze didn't budge from the spot on the water. Her hands slowly dropped from the railing. No, she couldn't actually jump. That would be crazy. She would not jump.

Then why was she moving closer to the end of the ledge?

A hand closed over hers, and she leapt back, startled.

It was a man she didn't recognize with chubby cheeks and lots of stubble. "Wait."

He started to unbutton his shirt, sliding it off, leaving him in a white undershirt. "You shouldn't go alone."

Still in shock, she couldn't speak. He was cute, a little older than her. And now he was climbing over the railing.

She shuffled to make more room on the ledge.

He cleared his throat nervously and stepped back, his hands fisted tightly on the railing. "Well...this looks a lot higher than it did on the other side of the railing." She could hear the slightest Southern twang in his voice.

"Actually, I wasn't going to jump," she explained without really knowing why, "then I thought about my life, and the failure encompassing it."

He eyed the water apprehensively, "Dangerous thing to do on a bridge."

"I suppose." She was much more relaxed than he was.

He shifted the weight between his feet, "So is this a romantic thing like Romeo and Juliet, or like Titanic... which I guess is another romantic thing, so..."

"It's not romantic. I'm married." She touched the very much existant ring on her finger. "And if it was Titanic, this would be the part where you convince me to live."

"I'm not much with persuasion," He paused, "But you do have the lovely red hair, like what's-her-name." He let his fingers leave the railing to catch her fiery strands in the wind. They weaved through his fingers with ease.

She visibly shrunk, not used to strangers touching her like that. She wished he would stop, but she didn't want to seem unfriendly. Her head tilted a bit, and the red slipped away from his fingers. "No offense, but you don't have the boyishly good looks of Leo DiCaprio." He seemed to take it hard, and she immediately recovered, "Not that you aren't attractive. Actually, I thought you were very cute when you first climbed over, just in a manly way."

He liked that remark much better, and smirked, "Are you usually this honest?" She could see sweat beading on his hairline and temples.

She knew she should give him relief, let him know that he didn't have to jump off a bridge, but she only knew what was best for her. And that was to stay on the ledge a little longer. "Only with guys who offer to die with me," she replied.

"I see," he was still waiting for the cue to jump.

"You still die," she informed him.

He couldn't remove his eyes from the dark water, much as she could a few minutes ago. "What?"

"Leo, from Titanic, he still dies, even though he saves Rose." She turned her body so she was facing him, and held on to the railing with only one hand. It was weird, how confident she felt with him.

"I know." He didn't move for a while, and then his gaze traveled along the water, up the ledge, and over her body to meet her eyes. "I- um- I'm actually going to die."

"We all die," she said, even though she knew there was something more.

"I'm going to die in two weeks," he said, bluntly, "You have years."

She couldn't stop herself from saying it, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," he laughed sadly.

She expected him to avoid eye contact, but he looked straight at her. "Get off of this ledge!" She began to hit him lightly with her palms, not enough to knock him over, but enough to make him move. She wasn't about to let him waste away his last few days with thoughts of suicide.

He couldn't have hopped more quickly over the railing. He offered her his hand, and it took her a little longer to climb over. When she was safely on the ground, she brushed off the pants she was wearing. She made a conscious decision to start over. "Hi, I'm Addison."

He looked at her, a bit confused, and then smiled. "I'm Denny. Denny Duquette."

Derek shivered in his jacket and rang Meredith's doorbell. He knew she would be pleasantly surprised to see him. He knew she didn't have a very good day. Or a happy life, at that, which was partially his fault. He still felt guilty about the day that Meredith met Addison.

He had every intention of honoring his commitment to Addison, but it would be lying to say he was anything less than ecstatic about spending Christmas with Meredith. She needed him, andfor a moment, he could pretend they were the family they should have been.

He felt bad about leaving Addison, but knowing she was with Callie made him feel less guilty. She'd probably have more fun anyway, without him sulking around the trailer.

Meredith was taking a extraordinarily long time answering the door. He heard laughing and talking inside. He rang again. The doorbell wasn't making any noise so he knocked.

It took only a few minutes before Izzie opened the door, and all he could see was blonde and red for a moment.

At first, he seemed shocked to see him, but then she grinned widely. "Meredith!" She sang out, teasingly.

Derek smiled. He loved being greeted so enthusiatically. Addison always seemed scared of him, but he supposed that was his own fault.

Meredith came to the door, eggnog in hand. "Oh. Hi!" Her reaction was almost identical to Izzie's, but it pleased him twice as much.

"Come in." All three couldn't shake the silly expressions off their faces.

Izzie shut the door behind him, and Meredith took his coat, running her long fingers over his shoulders.

No one said anything for a while as Meredith watched him, and Izzie watched Meredith. He peered around the apartment. It was the same as before, sans a few unpacked boxes.

Izzie made a move to walk into the kitchen. "Do you want anything to drink, Dr. Shepherd?"

He almost made a noise of annoyance. He had repeatedly asked her to call him Derek because he didn't want Meredith to think he was superior in any way. He reminded Izzie, again, "It's Derek." He pointed to Meredith's drink, "I'll have what she's having."

Izzie backed away, the gaiety of romance still prominent on her face. "Okay!"

Derek wondered if she always spoke in a singsong voice at home, or if she did it just when he was there. Because that could get irritating.

At last, he was alone with Meredith. He should have been overjoyed, but there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He wasn't nauseous, just cold. Probably nerves or overexcitement. Meredith made him nervous sometimes.

Or it was disbelief that he was actually here, spending Christmas with his favorite person. Whatever the feeling was, he was sure it would be gone soon. It would have to be. He wouldn't have his Christmas ruined by a little anxiety.

For now, he was stuck in an unbearable silence with Meredith. She was stuck in some sort of dreamlike trance. He had that effect on her most of the time, hence the nickname. It was sweet that she couldn't stop smiling, but he expected to be invited in and all.

After a while, she shook her head and it seemed that she had come back to the present. "Um. Do you want something?"

It was time for him to earn his reputation as McDreamy. He touched her shoulder and softened his smile, "I wanted to spend Christmas with you."

She blushed, as if no one had ever treated her this kindly. Sadly, this was probably true, but that's what he liked about her. Every little romantic gesture made her world.

Her smile slowly faded, "Where's your wife?"

He didn't want to talk about Addison. "She said it was okay," he reassured her, for good measure, "I told her...how important this was. She understood." He this as quietly as possible, in his tender voice, meant for sweet-nothings and bedtime stories.

Meredith was not stupid, and she kept staring at him, suspiciously. He wished she wouldn't worry about these things. They could move on, if she would just put a pin in the fact that he was married. She lead him into the hallway, and stopped before they reached the kitchen. "Addison- she could have come."

He grabbed her hand only for a moment. "I wanted it to be just us and your roomates- your family." That way, if things got carried away, he could blame it on the liquor, and the holiday season. And he would never have to explain to Addison.

Reading his mind, she took her hand away, still angry that he expected her to be a mistress.

He understood that she had morals. He was just asking her to sweep a few things under the rug. Hell, his wife was willing to overlook Meredith. Where was the problem? He laughed, trying to make her relax about certain things. "She had plans! She knows what's going on and she told me to come!" His voice deepened to an angry pitch. "Can we stop talking about it now?"

Her eyes changed, and she gave him a warm smile. She rubbed his arm. "Okay. Come on in."

The house appeared very festive, with all the red and green decorations, and even a tree, every ornament perfectly in place. There was quite a gathering in the living room, much more than he had expected. He saw that Izzie had set his drink on the table next to the empty love seat, which he assumed was for him and Meredith. Izzie joined Alex, and a bitter Cristina on the couch. Derek was thankful to see that Burke was also there, sitting in a lounge chair. Although the two of them dueled at work, he was relieved to know he wouldn't be the oldest doctor there. George was in the chair opposite Preston Burke, as to be expected.

But what confused Derek was who was sitting in front of him. It was...

Callie?

Hi, Addison. It's Derek...I only have a few minutes, but you said you were going out with Callie. And Callie's here... she was wondering where you were. I told her you'd probably went to Bailey's house to see the baby. If you want to spend Christmas with us, Meredith said you were welcome to come here...So, just give me a call back when you get this. Bye.

Denny had put his shirt back on without buttoning it so it hung open. They walked the circular path of the park, taking in the nature and people of Seattle.

She didn't know him at all, but there was something that made her trust him. She believed that he wasn't lying when he said he was a dying man. He wasn't trying to get into her pants. Then again, she was almost tired of not trusting. Doubting and worrying over every little thing Derek did was exhausting. She couldn't keep track of his secret little meetings with Meredith anymore.

She was not completely illogical though. Even though running around with a guy she barely knew seemed like a bad deciscion, Addison had it justified in her mind. This very day, she was starting to be optimistic and she pledged to believe the best in everyone, starting with Denny. He had given her no reason not to trust him. And after all, he had volunteered to not let her die alone.

She refused to acknowledge that her optimism was an excuse for her irrational behavior. She denied that she was just that desperate and lonely.

He was nice to her. Whenever they would pass other people (who were more often than not a little creepy), he would slip his arm around her waist. She wasn't sure if this was out of protection, or fear of isolation, but she enjoyed it. Derek would never do that for her, and Denny willingly warmed her body as the evening air blew colder.

They made small talk, despite their unusual introduction. She wanted to skip the formalities; the doctor in her curious about his illness. It was an awful, awkward question, but he was going to die. It didn't matter how she behaved, as long as she did it honestly. Finally, after about twenty minutes since the incident on the bridge, she found the courage to ask him, "Do you have cancer?"

He looked up at her, startled, "Uhm. Oh. No," he mumbled. She stopped at a bench and he stayed with her. Scratching his head, he explained, "It's a heart condition."

"I'm a doctor," she informed him. As if she could really help.

A corner of his mouth raised in a half-smile. "You a heart doctor?"

"No." It was weird that such a morbid conversation could be somewhat cheerful. "I'm a baby doctor."

"That's saintly."

She laughed, "I am the furthest person away from saintly that you can imagine."

"Really?" He acted surprised, "You save the lives of babies, and now you make me feel more alive than I have in months. That's more than saintly. That's- a healing touch. Angel-like."

She pretended to be considering the idea, and then all of a sudden disappointed. "You know what? I think I've broken a few two many of the ten commandments to be considered angel-like." She shrugged.

"Everybody makes mistakes." He seemed to be speaking from past experiences. She should know to trust the perspective of a dying man.

She went ahead and admitted it, "I made a big mistake. Unforgivable." She paused, "I cheated on my husband. He walked in on me and his best friend." Commandment number seven: it would ruin her forever. She sat down on the bench, and focused on a wilting tree, in order to avoid his judgemental focus.

He sat down next to her, and she turned her head slowly. He was very close, enough to feel his body warmth. His expression wasn't judgemental or pitying. "That's-" his face appeared pained, as if he was putting himself in Derek's place, "-that's not good."

"I know." She choked up again. "He was so shocked. I'm not the kind of person who would do that." She stopped to catch her breath and think a bit. "He didn't love me, though," she stated, sure of herself.

He stretched out on the bench and slouched away from her. "What- uh- happened after? I mean, obviously, you guys are still married." He frowned bitterly.

She stuck her fingers in her hair, and tucked a few strands behind her ear. "He left me, and came to Seattle. I stayed with Mark- his best friend. Then, karma kicked in, and I followed him here." And she'd been miserable ever since. Was that the point of all of this? That it wouldn't get better? Or maybe Denny was her hope.

He sighed loudly, "I guess that sucks."

He was right, and coming from a man on his death bed, that made her situation extremely lamentable. "I don't know what to do," she slumped forward, covering her face. Maybe a little bit of pity would be nice after all. She hated herself for thinking that.

He put a hand on her shoulder, "It's all right. I like ya anyway."

She smiled. That was better than pity. "Thanks." She sat up and their eyes finally met. She reached for the hand on her shoulder, and brought it down, tracing the hairs on his knuckles.

She knew she couldn't cheat on Derek ever again. It was impossible, though, not to want to be near Denny. He appreciated her.

That was a terrible excuse.

He brought the back of her hand up to his mouth, and dragged her soft skin against his lips. His dark stubble tickled the backs of her fingers. She shivered, and tugged her hand away. He waited a moment. Soon, she felt his arm around her shoulder, but she could tell he was trying to give her a little space. It was like she was dating again. Men were so touchy-feely, even on the first date. She was a take-it-slow kind of girl, which only made her further appreciate Derek. He had waited months for her, and she still loved him for it.

But Denny didn't have months.

He made a sound from the back of her throat to get her attention, and smiled at her, like he was glad she was alive and with him. He spoke confidently, "Addison, I'd like to fall in love before I die."

It was such a simple statement, but it caused her so much turmoil. She glanced up at him. She knew what he meant: he wanted to fall in love with her. She couldn't fall in love with him, but she didn't want to cause him any pain. She shifted a little in her seat, and laughed, "Met anyone yet?"

"You know what I was thinking." The pitch of his voice raised in suspicion, "I'm not going to meet anyone else. It's all you."

Her head became a little fuzzy at his words. She'd never had such complicated feelings, and she wanted to cry out and be free from it all. She remembered that she was married. She had to keep repeating it to herself, as it seemed like that's what characters in movies did when they were tempted. It wasn't helping, and then his arm tightened further around her.

She would have worried about being seen, but she knew her colleagues at the hospital rarely had time to go anywhere besides work and home. Added to the fact that it was Christmas, it was almost guarenteed that everyone would be with their families.

She dreamed about what the next few weeks could be like, if she agreed to be with Denny. She would take a few weeks off of work. No one would notice. They could go away to a different city, and spend their time exploring and loving each other. It made her heart ache to even think about love. It seemed like something of the past, something every one else had except for her. It would be wonderful to experience that again.

Only with Derek. He kept flashing through her mind, and she couldn't seem to forget him. Denny wasn't Derek. That was stating the obvious, she supposed. She was using Denny, and that wasn't fair. But it wasn't fair to hurt him either.

She needed Derek. Maybe life was a series of these impossible situations, designed to keep her miserable until death. She'd never been more pessimistic in her life. A million thoughts were running through her head, yet she had no idea what to say. She began with his name, "Denny..."

"Don't say it like that." His eyes swam with desperation. "That sounds bad. Say my name happily."

She grabbed his other hand and led it to her knee. He breathed heavily into the side of her face, warming her cheek.

"I'm sorry." She shook her head, embarrassed and confused. He hair fell down into her face.

All of a sudden his hands cupped her cheeks. He was very cold. She took a large gasp of fear and squeezed her eyes shut. He was going to kiss her. She waited for it, and her stomach sunk, knowing that her marriage would be officially over the moment his lips touched hers.

The moment passed, and she peeked a little at him. His face was near hers, ready to kiss her, but instead he spoke, "First, I'd like to make clear that I am not the kind of guy who asks to be kissed. I am the kind of guy who can feel the perfect time, and make the move. But I didn't feel it. So I'm asking you to kiss me."

She wouldn't kiss him. How horrible, to deny one of his last requests. She supposed she couldn't sink any lower.

Luckily, before she could reject him (again), her cell phone rang out. She leapt up, her shaking hands making her fumble the phone out of her pocket. She grabbed it, checking the caller ID, and clutching it for a few seconds. Then, she hurled it to the pavement. The phone split into two. She groaned, and drove her foot into it, ensuing brokeness.

A/N: Okay, so I have most of the next part done, but I can't seem to finish it. I'm hoping a few reviews will break my writer's block. :)

Thanks for reading it.