I walked around Seattle for longer than I ever had before, maybe even longer than I should have. I had every intention of going back to my hotel—a thought that I couldn't help but laugh at because I lived in the city again. It was a house like the one I'd had before, just like the one with the deer in the backyard. Close to the hospital, but just far enough away that I could still breathe without feeling like I could get paged at any second. It was like a real home, an actual environment that I could raise a child in. But how stupid was I to think Owen would want to be a part of it?

Of course he had moved on. Of course. I all but told him to. I opened my door and kicked him out before he even had a chance to put his shoes on. What would he want to do with me now? Just like it had when I woke up, the guilt crept right back into my head, continuing to eat me alive. I had lost my strongest and oldest friendship because I couldn't stop yelling at him long enough to explain where my feelings were coming from. Not that he was innocent—he had thrown some insults at me for no other reason than because he knew they would hurt me. Calling Henry "the dead guy," he was trying to strike every nerve possible, and it had worked.

Maybe it's for the best, I thought. He can remarry Amelia and be with her and Leo and whoever that girl was who opened the door yesterday. Maybe all I would do is interrupt the perfect picket-fence life he has. Maybe I was never meant to be a part of it. Maybe all I would do is cause more problems for him. Like I hadn't caused enough problems.

But this could be easy once I get used to it. If I try this again and he really doesn't want us, I could be a single mother. I could do it.

But something about my own thoughts made me want to laugh—if he doesn't want us? Tears stung my eyes as I pictured how my next meeting with Owen was going to go. That was no if. The possibility of him not wanting us…it was a when.

I sighed and put my face in my hands, desperately wishing for a moment that the coffee in front of me was caffeinated. That used to be my go-to coping mechanism. Even after all of the sleep I had gotten the night before, I could have drifted off again right there, at my table outside of the coffee shop. Exhausting. My life was exhausting.

"Teddy?"

I looked up, hesitant to turn around. That voice wasn't…no. It couldn't be. But a gentle hand came to rest on my shoulder, and sure enough, I stood up and found myself face to face with Evelyn Hunt, who pulled me into a bone-crushing hug the second we made eye contact.

"How are you?"

My head started to spin. How was I…? Pregnant, with a potentially life-threatening heart condition. Pregnant…with her grandchild.

"Good!" I lied through my teeth, returning her hug with a smile. But something wasn't right. She didn't smile back. She just studied my face as though she was searching for answers, taking in every inch of me until her eyes met mine again.

"Try again," she said softly.

"What?"

"I know you," she answered. "I don't see you as often as I'd like, but I know you well enough to know what you look like when you're good. You're not good. Your smile usually reaches your eyes. What happened?"

I didn't say anything. I couldn't. Since Iraq, Evelyn had been the closest I had to a real mother, and she was right. She knew me. She talked me through my feelings for Owen when he married Cristina and—although I would never admit this to him—was the first person to compare our lives to Bridges of Madison County. When my PTSD reached a breaking point after I first moved to Seattle, she convinced me to see a psychiatrist, figuring out every possible way to keep me from backing out of it, even driving me to the appointment to eliminate the temptation of getting in my own car and driving away instead of going in. And nine months before, I spent more time with her than I had in years, curled up on Megan's bed at Grey-Sloan, talking and laughing with both of them. Almost like I had a real family.

Which, I was again painfully reminded, I did not.

"I…I'm just tired," I said, finally. This, at least, was the truth.

"Tired," Evelyn repeated.

"I just flew here from Germany." Also true. "The jet lag is getting to me pretty badly."

"And I'm sure your decaf coffee is doing wonders," she said sarcastically.

"I'm going back to my hotel," I said. "Back to bed."

Still the truth. The day had barely begun and I was ready to sleep it off.

"Come over for dinner tonight." It wasn't an invitation; it was clear from her tone that I was going, whether I wanted to or not. "Get some sleep, and when you feel like a functioning person again, we can try this one more time. I'll come pick you up at five, okay? Where's your hotel?"

"I've already been all over the city today," I said, forcing a laugh. "My hotel's right there. Next door."

"Okay." She pulled me into another hug, a softer one this time. "Sweet dreams, honey."

I turned and started to walk away, but stumbled as the front of my shoe caught an uneven part of the sidewalk. My legs buckled, but I didn't fall, and I turned back toward Evelyn, trying to laugh it off. But she wasn't looking at me. She was holding something, and my whole body went rigid when I realized what it was. The ultrasound picture that I had gotten in the habit of taking everywhere…it had fallen out of my pocket. She was, for the first time, looking at her grandchild.

For one wild moment, I wondered if, on some level, she knew who the father was. If she knew this baby was her family. But my own mind chased that thought away—she had always considered me part of her family. By extension, of course this baby would be part of that.

After an uncomfortably long silence, she took a few hesitant steps toward me, holding the picture out. I wanted to take it back, I had to take it back, but I was still frozen. I could silently will my arms to move as much as I wanted, but it wasn't going to do anything. I was stuck.

"You know," Evelyn said, reaching over to put the picture back in my pocket, "Owen went to Germany about three months ago. He didn't…specify…what he did there. Just that he went. And he doesn't…I mean…he wouldn't go to Germany without visiting you, would he? That seems so unlike him."

Her voice was steady, but she was speaking so fast, there was no doubt that she knew exactly who the father of this baby was. She didn't seem upset. But there were so many unanswered questions. Her confusion was warranted—Owen hadn't told her anything, I hadn't even lived in Washington for more than a few days…something was off about this entire situation.

"Teddy…honey…what aren't you telling me?"

"He's living with Amelia again," I blurted, and before I could stop myself, I was crying again like I had the night before. I had never been a loud crier, but the noises I was making weren't even human. It sounded like I was being strangled. And although I had never experienced being strangled personally, I could only imagine the tightness in my throat was how it felt.

"Come here, sweetie, I've got you," she said, wrapping her arms around me, and I collapsed into her.

"I'm sorry," I said into her shoulder.

"No, no apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for."

"This is—at least—50% hormones," I said in between hiccupping sobs. "I think."

She released me from the hug, putting her arm around my shoulders.

"W-where are we going? I thought you were going home. Really, Evelyn, I'm fine. I'll sleep this off and see you later," I said, frantically wiping at the tears on my face.

"I'm not leaving you. You don't have to face this by yourself."

The automatic doors of the hotel breezed open, and I turned my head away from the check-in desk. Even looking away, I could feel the receptionist's eyes on me, but I focused my gaze on everything, anything, else until we got to the elevator. On the short ride to the third floor, Evelyn's arm dropped from my shoulders and she took my hand in both of hers.

"Want to know something funny about this hotel?"

"If it makes you laugh, I'll hear anything," she answered.

"No promises," I said. "What's funny about the hotel…is that I have no reason to be here. I have a house. I've been in the process of moving back for the past two weeks. Everything's moved in, except for the last two suitcases. The ones I have here. This has just become the best-played game of hide-and-seek that Seattle has ever seen."

I reached down to hold the room key up to the door.

"Except…no one's looking for me," I said, and I could feel the sadness aching in my chest again. "But look on the bright side. That means I'm winning, right?"

"Sure, dear," Evelyn said, sitting down at the foot of the bed and pulling her phone out.

"W-what are you doing?" I said, as I heard the familiar sound of FaceTime trying to connect.

"Calling Megan," she said, and I let my purse fall to the floor.

"What?"

"We're going to help you. Owen misses you. And the baby…I know you won't believe me right now, but I can promise you that this will be a welcome surprise for him. You're both going to be so happy. You just have to get through this stage first. And that's what we're here for, to help you through it."

"Hi, Mom," Megan's voice rang through the room. "Where are you? Wait…is that…Teddy?"

Evelyn looked at Megan, then at me, and then back to Megan.

"Teddy…your family is gathered."