Lexi
"I dyed my hair when you left."
Of all the things she could have told him –secrets she had kept from him, the one she confessed was a foolish act of physical change.
I dyed my hair when you left.
Maybe, Addison believed, he understood nonetheless; understood that the urge to change her appearance was born in a desperate attempt to isolate the person she had become by loving Derek.
Addison should have told Derek about the baby she aborted – her only chance at motherhood she had sacrificed to fight for her marriage. A fruitless undertaking, Addison admitted dejectedly, which had brought her nothing but heartache and humiliation in Seattle and more so in Los Angeles.
But Addison could not tell him without admitting to herself that having anyone else's baby but Derek's still felt like an act of betrayal; even now when divorce papers had been signed and Derek had already moved on, leaving her alone in the land of regret and self-loathing.
"Really. Which color?" Derek asked unbelievingly, shaking his head and laughing at the absurdity of imagining Addison with anything but red hair; he had always loved her hair long, falling down her shoulders in soft, red curls.
She should have told him right then, but in a moment of genuine affection and friendship Addison could not bear to lose the last thread of connection she had with Derek, so she smiled politely and replied, "Dark brown."
The truth – her phase of being a blonde, would have revealed her most degrading flaw; a pathological compulsion to be admired.
The end.