The hardest tumble a man can make is to fall over his own bluff. – Ambrose Bierce
'Thank god Kathleen let me borrow their van,' Derek thought as he piled the collapsed cardboard boxes into his arms, using the button on the remote to shut the vehicle's side door. He made his way up the stairs to his former residence, juggling his load carefully as he extended the keys in his grip to unlock the front door of the Brownstone.
He stepped inside and placed the stack of cardboard on the floor in the foyer, moving quickly to disable the house alarm. The house looked the same as it always did: immaculate, solemn, and untouchable, but for the first time in years, the weight he felt when inside was lifted. It wasn't his anymore; he wasn't sure it ever had been, but now it definitely wasn't. It was entirely Addison's, and in many ways it suited her perfectly as it never did him. And the home he was moving to; that gorgeous plot of land that he had only seen in pictures, well, it was going to be completely his, and it was pretty much the opposite of any place Addison would want to live.
But he had to pack up all of his things before he could get there. Derek grabbed a few boxes and walked into his study, beginning to assemble the cardboard on his tidy desk. As his eyes scanned over the row of books on the shelves, deciding what needed to be packed up and what could be left, he reached for his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.
The call went immediately to voice mail. "Hey Addi, it's me. You're probably in surgery right now, but I'm just letting you know that I'm at the house today packing up the rest of my stuff. I didn't want you to come home and think you'd been robbed. Anyway, I might see you if you get in before I finish, but if not, I'll leave my key in the mailbox. Hope your surgery goes well. Bye."
Derek turned off his phone and began pulling the necessary items off the shelves; packing away the needed remnants of his past life as he worked toward the future.
With a soft grunt Derek heaved the overly full box onto the back seat of the van. He was almost done. It amazed him that he really needed so little to take with him on his move, which was probably a good thing given the size of the accommodations he would have on his new land. But it was a little shocking to think that eleven years of his life could be packed away in so few boxes. Only a few knickknacks from the kitchen and living room remained to be boxed away.
Derek shut the van door, jogging back up the steps to finish his packing job. He entered the house just in time to hear the answering machine pick up an incoming call.
"Hello," he heard his recorded voice speak out as he walked into the kitchen, "you've reached Derek and Addison, we are unable to take your call right now, but if you leave a message we'll get back to you as soon as we can."
"Hello Dr. Montgomery," an unfamiliar cheerful voice echoed around the empty kitchen as Derek carefully wrapped some plates in tissue paper. "This is Elsie from Planned Parenthood calling to remind you of your follow-up appointment tomorrow at 2:30. If you have any concerns or questions that have come up since your D&C please let one of our counselors know tomorrow. Have a good day!"
The plate slipped from his hands and crashed to the floor scattering shards of ceramic across the dark hardwood.
"Derek?" Addison's voice rang out from the behind him, jarring his intent focus from the wedding picture on the mantle; their wedding picture. His gorgeous then-wife standing beside him, both of them smiling happily at the camera. And beside them, the best man, Mark, his brother, his best friend, wearing his typical smirk, but looking happy and proud as he slapped Derek's shoulder. Who would have thought that eleven years later it would have come to this?
"It wasn't one night," he accused softly. "You and Mark didn't have a one night stand. You went behind my back for weeks."
"Derek….I…" her usually confident speech sounded choked and unsure.
"Don't lie to me," he hissed, spinning around to face her. "I can count, Addison."
"Count?" Addison whispered; her eyes wide with shock. "Derek what are you…?"
"Planned Parenthood left you a message," he spat. "An abortion, Addison? I know it wasn't mine; we haven't had sex in months. And it had better have been Mark's, or else we had more problems than even I thought."
Derek watched his ex-wife sink onto a chair with unsteady legs. "It was Mark's," she confirmed, quietly.
"Oh god," he gasped, "I would have been Uncle Derek."
"I wanted you to be Daddy Derek!" Addison wailed. "Mark would never have wanted to be a father. He wouldn't have been a good father. And we we're trying, you were going to forgive me, how could I tell you that I was pregnant with Mark's baby?" She surged toward him, grasping onto his arms. Derek recoiled as if burnt, backing away quickly until he hit the wall behind him.
"Does he even know?" Derek whispered, his eyes closing in an attempt to stop the onslaught of pain and loss. "He had a right to know."
"No," she whimpered. "And don't play the martyr in this, Derek. I'm not evil. Do you know how hard it was? I want to have a baby, Derek. I wanted to have a baby, but we weren't happy. You weren't here enough. I wanted to have a baby, but I didn't want to have Mark's baby. I wanted to have a baby with you."
"I…Addison…I can't even think right now. You had an affair, not a one night stand, but a long affair," he ran a hand through his unruly curls, ignoring the sobs coming from his ex-wife's shaking form. "That thing we'd been doing? Attempting to fix our marriage? It was all based on a lie. And I can't….I can't look at you."
Addison's sobbing increased.
"My stuff is all packed up," Derek whispered fiercely. "I'm leaving, and right now I think I would be happy to never see you again."
He walked out of the room, too tired and angry to turn and comfort her as she crumpled to the carpet behind him.
