Derek sat down at a table in the cafeteria by himself and looked down at his tray. He had a salad, a side of fries, and a bottle of water. Just as he started eating, someone sat across from him and he looked up from his food to see it was a woman he vaguely recognized.

"Hi," she greeted smoothly.

"Hi," he responded awkwardly.

"I'm Kelly, I'm a nurse practitioner down in the ER," she explained when she realized he had no idea who she was.

"Oh, yeah, I remember seeing you around," he replied, looking around at all the empty tables and wondering why she was sitting right at his.

She smiled flirtatiously, "I ask you for a lot of consults." She shrugged, "Sometimes it's just an excuse to get you down to the ER."

"Well, that's quite flattering, I guess..."

She smiled again as she reached across the table to take a french fry off his tray.

Derek's heart started pounding as he watched her bite into the fry. He didn't really like french fries too much. They were Addison's guilty pleasure. She never bought them with her own lunch, but anytime he did, she'd steal some off his plate. It became a habit for him to buy a small side of fries to share between them. He hadn't even realized that the habit was still a part of his routine until he watched another woman eat his french fries. Was that a sexual pun? He asked himself immediately after the thought crossed his mind.

"I'm sorry, do you not like sharing food?"

"No, I don't mind at all. I just, I usually share food with my wife."

"Your wife?! I thought you were divorced! I thought she left."

"She's in Los Angeles with our son."

"But you got divorced. Everyone was talking about that divorce."

"We didn't get divorced, we couldn't."

"I don't understand," the woman stared at him. "You couldn't so you're now separated while you try to figure out the divorce?"

"No, we gave up on the possibility of the divorce."

"So you're not getting a divorce?"

"This is a very personal conversation to have with a woman I've only seen a few times in the ER," Derek replied uncomfortably.

"For the first time in my life I took a risk and made an attempt to make the first move!" she exclaimed in humiliation.

"I'm not getting divorced," he repeated. It wasn't a lie. He wasn't getting a divorce. He couldn't because he didn't have a legal spouse to get a divorce from.

"Oh, my god. I just humiliated myself in front of the head of neurosurgery." she covered her face with her hands.

"It's okay, I don't judge," he replied with a small chuckle, trying to make the situation less uncomfortable. He really didn't have room to judge given the mess that his life had become.

"I'm gonna go sit...anywhere else."

Derek chuckled. "Okay. Sorry about the misunderstanding."

"And, for the love of god, start wearing your wedding ring. There is a long list of women waiting for their turn to do this."

Christopher sat at the dinner table in their new beach house. He stared down at his plate and pushed around the food, which his mother had cut up into perfectly even pieces for him.

"Is something wrong?" Addison asked as she brought a forkful of chicken to her lips.

"Where did you buy this?" the little boy asked her, sounding disappointed and judgemental.

"Where did I buy what?"

"This," he said, using his fork to point out the food on his plate.

"I bought the stuff from the grocery story and I made it."

"You made it?" he asked doubtfully. He knew his mother avoided cooking as much as possible.

"Yes."

"You don't cook," he reminded her.

"Right, I don't cook. That doesn't mean I don't know how to cook," she told her son with a smirk. "I actually really like cooking and I'm kind of good at it. Usually, I worked so much that I was too tired to cook when I got home. But now I work less so I have more time to do things like this. Do you like it?"

He didn't answer. Just quietly stared down at his plate.

"Christopher?"

"It's okay," he mumbled.

"Just okay? What's wrong with it?"

Chris shrugged. "It's just different." Derek pushed to make chicken all the time. Usually baked chicken breast, which Christopher loved. Addison had also use chicken breast, but instead of just baking in, she made chicken piccata.

"I know," Addison replied softly in response. She should have known better than to assume her son would think it was close enough to regular, baked chicken breast.

"Am I gonna get a different daddy too?"

"What?" She asked, stalling for time. Why couldn't you just make regular chicken and avoid this whole conversation? She asked herself.

"Cameron, one of the kids in the my new class, he has a stepdad. That's when your mom marries someone who is not your dad. Am I gonna get a stepdad?"

Addison just stared at him, a forkful of chicken halfway between her open mouth and her plate. She needed a second to try to give her son the most appropriate answer. "Honey, no one will ever replace your dad, no matter what."

He looked at her quietly before looking down at his plate and pushing it away. "I don't want anymore."

"You barely had any."

"I'm not hungry," he replied as he poked at the thin piece of chicken on his plate.

"Well you need to eat a little more. I worked really hard on this meal, Christopher."

"I don't want it!" he repeated louder. "I want cereal."

"You can't have cereal for dinner."

"I want cereal," he repeated firmly.

Addison sighed. This was Derek's department, Derek could get their son to eat just about anything. He had taught him to eat trout without complaining while they lived in Seattle. She wasn't quite as convincing. "Just eat a few more bites and you can go," she tried.

"I want Daddy!" he yelled as he stormed away from the table after shoving the plate so hard that it slipped off the other end of the round table and fell onto the floor.

Addison covered her face with her hands, trying her best to remain patient. It was times like this that she hated being a single mother.

That night Derek went the bar across he street from work, a favorite hang out for most of the Seattle Grace staff. It's where he met Meredith, it's also where he'd told Addison he might still be in love with her. Thinking back, he wondered Why did I bring my wife to the exact place I met my girlfriend?

He saw Richard sitting at the bar and went over to sit on the bar stool next to him. "I don't think I've ever seen you here before," he admitted.

"I came to see what all the hype is about," he admitted. "I don't really drink anymore so I can't judge the drinks and the crowd is so..." he paused and looked around. "Young."

"Yeah," Derek agreed before ordering himself a drink. "I met Meredith here on my first day in Seattle."

"Didn't you come here with Addison a few times after work?" he asked, sounding a little confused. The same thought was obviously running through his mind. Why bring your wife to the birthplace of your relationship with another woman?

"How'd you know about that?"

"We'd talk. She used mention that she was hoping to meet you here after work once in a while. The first time was right after you got back together, if I remember correctly. She was worried that you'd forget and not show up."

"That happened once or twice in the last few years we were together. More, if I'm being honest," he replied, voice so quiet he almost sounded ashamed. He also realized he'd said "together" instead of "married." He'd been working on that. He found comfort the ambuguity of the wording. "I was a pretty bad husband, now that I think about it."

Richard shrugged, "No one is perfect, don't beat yourself up over it. Just try not to make the same mistakes next time."

"Next time?" Derek asked, brow quirked up before he took a sip of his scotch.

"In your next relationship," Richard elaborated. "Aren't you dating Meredith?"

"No, I'm not ready to date yet," Derek admitted. "A nurse asked me out while I was having lunch at work today. She was pretty, seemed intelligent but I told her I was married."

"You're not married," Richard pointed out to him.

"It was just an insintual response. Addison never really took her rings off and when she did, they were pinned to her scrubs or on a chain around her neck. I would take my ring off before the OR and leave it in my locker and forget it for hours, sometimes days at a time. So I've been asked out my fair share of times and my go to response was that I'm married. It became insinct."

"Well, you gotta work on that because you need to get back on the horse eventually."

Derek nodded, "I guess I'll get there eventually," he mumbled as he drained the scotch in his glass in one gulp.

Addison stood in an exam room with a chart in her hands. She glanced up to see her patient staring at her hands.

"Is everything okay?" she asked.

"How long have you been married?" the woman responded, catching Addison completely off guard.

Her heart started pounding a little harder, realizing the woman was staring at the rings she couldn't bring herself to stop wearing. "Excuse me?" she finally asked, hoping that she had only imagined the whole conversation.

"How long have you been married?" she repeated.

"I uh," she took in a breath to stall and think. "Eleven years," she finally answered.

"Any kids?"

"We have a son."

"So you did everything you were supposed to do," the woman on the exam table pointed out.

Addison gave her a confused look. "In what sense?"

"You're married, you've got a good job, you've got a kid. That's everything, isn't it? That's everything that's expected of a woman. My husband left my because I can't have kids. He's with a younger woman now. She's having his baby. Our divorce isn't even finalized and he's having a baby with another woman and I'm here to get a second opinion on having my entire reproductive system removed."

Addison put down the chart and put a hand on the woman's arm. "I'm so sorry," she said softly. "If you want children, regardless of whether or not your husband is in or out, regardless of whether or not you need this surgery, you can have children. These will just be another hurdle to jump over but you can still have your dream."

"And be a single mother struggling to keep up with everything? You probably wouldn't understand how hard that is. You probably have the perfect husband. The kind who is considerate enough to do dishes once in awhile, who makes you breakfast in bed, who pays attention to every tiny detail about your existence. The kind that doesn't have disgusting habits like clipping his toe nails in bed. He probably is this perfect father who is involved in every possible aspect of parenting and you're on the same page about every tiny detail of your child's upbringing. Meanwhile, I get the asshole and have to raise a kid alone?"

Addison met her eyes silently, wishing she could bring herself to be honest about her circumstances. "Let's just take it one step at a time, okay? Let me finish taking a look at the ultrasound pictures your other doctor sent over and then we'll do a quick exam and get together a game plan for you, okay?"

A part of her felt guilty for lying and giving off the impression that she had her life together, but she knew better than to share her personal drama with a patient.

"You look terrible," Naomi told her when she walked into Addison's office and saw her sitting behind her desk absently picking at at a salad with her fork.

"Thanks," Addison mumbled tiredly.

"What's wrong?"

"Chris knocked over a plate full of chicken piccata last night and it gave me an emotional breakdown," she admitted. "That child really knows how to test my patience sometimes. And my patient just told me that I wouldn't understand what's it's like to be a single mother and it took every ounce of self restraint I have not to snap at her."

"Why would you make chicken piccata for your eight year old?"

"Because he loves chicken! Chicken breast is like 80 percent of his diet!"

"That's because it's the baldest, boringest protein. It's a safe bet. And you went and covered it with a lemon caper sauce? He's a child, Addison, kids want the basics. A little salt, maybe pepper, if he's feeling adventurous, and that's it."

Addison rolled her eyes, "I know that now. After spending two hours cleaning said lemon caper sauce of my white upholstered chair."

"Mac and cheese- from a box, not with a homemade, bougie bechamel sauce. Fish stricks, not baked salmon. Plain pasta. Stick to the basics."

"It was so much easier when Derek was responsible for feeding him. It was easier when I wasn't doing this alone!"

"Of course it was easier. Being a single mom isn't easy. You'll learn as you go, it'll get better."

"Derek is back in Seattle, probably dating 12 year olds and enjoying the life of a suddenly single thirtysomething and I'm here cleaning lemon caper sauce off my chair while sobbing hysterically."

"I think it's good that you didn't jump right back into dating. You're rediscovering yourself and that's important after divorce."

"I hate my life," Addison mumbled as she shoved a forkful of salad into her mouth.

Naomi rolled her eyes, "You'll be fine. Stop being dramatic. You'll be ready to start dating again before you know it. And that phase is fun, trust me."

"Dating?"

"Yeah, dating. You are planning to get back out there eventually, aren't you?"

Addison stared blankly at her.

"Addie?"

"Dating hasn't even really crossed my mind. I haven't dated in over a decade. I don't even think I remember how to date."

"It's fun. It's different now. You're different. What you want in a relationship is different. When you get out there, you'll be surprised by how different it is."

"This wasn't supposed to happen. I'm 37, I'm not supposed to be dating! I'm supposed to be happily married to the father of my child. We were supposed to get old together! We were supposed to bicker about who gets to die first! I wasn't supposed to be a 37 year old single mother," she paused her rant to look down at her left hand. "And I can't bring myself to take these stupid rings off because I don't want the world to know that I'm a 37 year old single mother!"

"Maybe you still need some time in the angry phase," Naomi conceded.

Okay, this update took way longer than I hoped it would. I lost my muse for a while but it seems to be back so yay! I'm gonna try to crank the next one out as soon as possible.

Review! I like reading them and *hint* they are great motivation.