Sharing a trailer is not exactly a place where secrets stay hidden long. She gets up earlier than him even when he works before she does, quietly pulls on her loosest skirt, looks in the mirror only long enough for her mind to wander for a quick second, finger brushing the slight pouch before she snaps back, sucks in, and pulls the zipper up over the bulge. She dodges him when he asks if she wants coffee and finds excuses when he carries in a bottle of wine after he's had a particularly hard day(meaning he's been pining over the intern a little more than usual). It works for a while. He never notices. She shouldn't have expected him to notice. He wouldn't have in New York, but it still hurts. Not that she even has a right to be hurting when she's the one carrying around the bastard child of her husband's best friend. She told Mark she aborted, screamed that he would be a horrible father, that fathers don't fuck every nurse in the hospital, that he'd ruin their child, and she saw his pain. He wasn't ready. That much she knew, but it didn't mean he'd be a failure. She was selfish. She wanted the baby and she wanted her husband. Mark didn't fit in.
"Something's different about you."
It's Dr. Burke who's the first to suspect something. He's too polite to ever really say anything, but Addison gets scared, goes shopping, buys more clothes that are too baggy and he should notice, but he doesn't. He might give her a glance every few days, but he never says anything, and she finds herself crying herself to sleep at nights because it's just like New York and nothing's changing and she has no right to be sad because she's keeping something huge from him, but that only makes her cry harder and apologize to the tiny being within. She's not ashamed, she promises the baby, she just needs to keep this to herself, just for now, just to see how their lives could be. It's not looking hopeful.
"Do you like this blouse?" She dares him to notice, pulls the fabric against her growing abdomen, nudges him, makes him look.
"It's nice."
He smiles and nods and then goes back to his reading, a fishing magazine to show off his new mountain man personality.
"You don't think I'm gaining weight?" She tries again, but she's well into her second trimester now and definitely showing.
"No. Not all all."
He doesn't even look up this time. She can blame it on the male species' inherent desire to never speak about weight, but this is Derek and it never did bother him all that much to tell her how hideous a color looked on her. He's simply stopped seeing her.
"I'm pregnant." It grabs his attention, forces the magazine from him hand, and for a second she's thrilled. He's looking at her, actually looking at her, but she can see his brain working, the math running through his head and her thrill dissolves. "It's Mark's." Because she can see his mouth about to open, question her loyalty and she just wants this moment to end. It does. He throws the magazine across the tiny room and storms out, rocking the whole tin can, making her nauseous. "I'm sorry," she cries later that night when she's curled in the uncomfortable bed, rubbing a tired hand along her stomach, phone cradled to her ear. He's still not back. She assumes he's fucking the intern. "I want to come home."
