Chapter 1: Trouble

The night Derek got back from DC.

"I'm going to bed."

Meredith looks exhausted. I don't blame her.

"Well, are you coming?"

So she's not throwing me on the couch tonight. "Oh, I thought since we're fighting and you're mad, I-"

"Damn it, I am mad, Derek! But that doesn't mean I don't want to sleep next to my husband who's been in DC for the past year!" She storms upstairs.

I let out a breath. I really fucked up this time.

…

Being back in our bathroom felt right. The hotel washroom felt tacky and was an inconvenience to use. I put on my Bowdoin tee and navy plaid pajama pants. I don't know why I feel nervous going to bed. Was it because I was afraid of Meredith's response to what I wanted to say? Or that there would be an awkward silence as I approach and settle into the bed? Yes to both.

My wife laid curled up facing away from me. Her breathing is even but not enough to signify she was asleep. My side of the bed felt cold and untouched like it had been like that since I left. My body heat neutralized the coolness of the sheets as I made myself comfortable in our bed. Our bed. God, I miss this comfortable mattress.

I lie there for a few minutes, thinking. I want to- I need to speak with my wife. She rested peacefully but I knew she was waiting for me to say something. Replicating her position, I turned on my side and spooned her. We fit together. My cheeks couldn't help but wrinkle as my face formed a smile. Mm, Lavender. My breath of fresh air. I feel at home. I was then met by a wave of sadness. I fucked up.

"I'm sorry," I whispered into her ear. Her leg shifted but she remained silent. Her back turned toward me, breaking out of our position and she faced me. I look into her eyes, filled with sullen anger with a touch of red. She had been crying.

"Tell me what happened."

What does she mean? So much happene-

"The kiss. Tell me everything." It's like she read my mind.

"…she leaned in and kissed me. And I didn't stop her until our lips made contact. I stopped her. I told her I love my wife. I love my kids. And that I had to go. I booked the next flight out of DC and came straight home."

"And that's why you left your phone and she picked up when I called?" Meredith distanced herself toward her side of the bed, away from our cocoon.

I sigh. It sounds made up and she has every right to suspect. "Meredith, I know how this sounds. It was just a kiss and I came straight home. I would never cheat on-"

She cut me off and sat up. "But you did. So tell me why you forgot your phone."

I follow her movement and sit on my side. "Meredith. I left immediately because I realized we are in trouble." My poor word choice is not helping my case.

"Derek. You go to DC for a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to work for the president of the United States. We fight over moving across the country. You come back, having not only failed to conduct your brain-mapping initiative but you also kissed another woman, and jeopardizing your marriage was the only reason you came back? How can you be so damn brainless!?"

How do I respond to that? Our marriage is not ending… is it?

"Meredith. You're right. I mes-"

She cut me off again. "Don't you dare say you 'messed up.' Messing up is accidentally publishing an article with a bunch of typos because you didn't proofread. This is not messing up. Thisis you being a complete jackass!"

"I'm sorry," was the only phrase I could muster.

She looks away and focuses on the wall. "What are you going to do?"

What I should've done a long time ago. "I'm going to quit."

She looks at me again, giving me a sign to continue. "I'm going to quit," I repeated, "but I will need to go back to DC in a few days to officialize my resignation and hand off my research."

She rolled her eyes as she expected there to be a 'but.'

"I really want to throw you in the trailer right now. And I really want to cry right now. I also really want to kiss you right now." Her eyes closed and she took a couple of deep breaths.

I uncover the sheets from my body. "I'll go pour us a drink. Hold on."

The kitchen looked as if it'd been untouched for months. Obviously, because Meredith doesn't cook. The minibar was fully stocked with hard liquor from our last trip to the liquor store yet the wine was practically out of stock. Oh, Meredith.

Her tequila and my bourbon were secured in my hands while the stairs creaked with my steps.

I hand Meredith her drink. She sat up on the bed. I sat in the corner chair by the window. We drank silently, appreciating one another's presence. I'll go to DC on Thursday and make all the final arrangements. I come back and we continue life in Seattle. Simple. I look at my wife. She is looking at me too. She is… so gorgeous. I reminisce about the time I met her at Joe's. Sometimes I wish I could start over from that night and prevent all the mistakes I made. But then I don't because I wouldn't trade our story for the world.

"Stop looking at me like that." She interrupted my thoughts.

"Like what?" My mind and my mouth spoke at the same time.

"Like you are McDreamy and you see me naked." Ironic. Our minds are both at when we first met.

My eyes wander from her eyes, trace her body, and back to eye contact. We both feel the desire. I put my bourbon on the side table and make my way toward the bed.

…

The past few days have been replenishing for our marriage. I heard her giggle for the first time in way too long. After our drunken sex Monday night, everything has been… normal. Or better than normal. Because I don't remember the last time we have had this type of normalcy.

Zola and Bailey were ecstatic to have me back. I have spent the entirety of my 3 days back with them. They grew up so much. I don't want to miss another moment. Once I come back from DC for the last time, I will make sure to soak up every moment I can with my kids. Speaking of kids, Meredith called me crazy this morning after I told her we should have another baby. The sex that followed felt... right.

My phone rang.

"I will be there by the end of the day to make arrangements. Yes. Yes. Alright, thank you."

Meredith approached me. "You have to go now?" Her fingers slithered around my chest until she reached the top button and secured the gap. We kiss. Before pulling away completely, I wrap my arm around her wishing I could hold on forever and never let go. I can do that in 48 hours. But not now. "I'll call you when I get to the airport," I tell her. "Stay here. Don't move. Wait for me." I give her a smile and the door behind me becomes a 48-hour barrier between myself and my family.

Checking the time on the screen of my car, I realize I am late for the airport. Thank goodness for the alternate route that I often take. It cuts off an extra 2 miles on the highway with its curved path.