Meredith slowly climbed to the top of the stairs and sighed. She felt awful for the predicament that George had found himself in. She knew that he wasn't completely over her and that he still found it uncomfortable to mention Derek and herself in the same sentence; He still gave her 'the' look—the one that radiated 'why can't you just love me the way that I love you'?----and it still made her feel guilty sometimes. At the very least, he'd moved back home with her and Izzy and every day he was getting closer to being back to normal.

Now he was having a baby with Callie Torres.

And he still wasn't sure if he even loved her.

She made her way down the hall and into her bedroom and shut the door softly. As she undressed she thought about love and how it could be so unfair; It was Russian Roulette and no one ever really knew where they stood or even if they would win the ultimate prize—but they still played. They played for the chance that they could win, could change their lives into something that was better, deeper, rich. Those who found love were truly rich—they had played the game of chance and won—but what about those who bet it all and came away with half of what they started? What about the people who loved too much, who loved someone else who could never truly love them in return on that same level?

Meredith loved Derek—and he couldn't give her exactly what she needed. George loved Meredith and she couldn't give him what he wanted. Callie loved George and was pregnant and hoping that he would love her completely and forget that he'd loved Meredith.

She managed to pull on a loose fitting pink nightie and lie down when the shrill ringing of the phone interrupted her reverie. Gingerly, she leaned over and picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Meredith?" Finn's worried voice came across the line, immediately tying her stomach in a thousand knots. "Are you alright? I saw you outside with a sling on your arm."

She sighed, hating the fact that he was so darn—concerned—and she wished that he wasn't It sure would take away some of the guilty feelings. "Ya. I'm fine----I just wanted to sleep in my own bed." She said lamely, as she balanced the phone on her shoulder and adjusted her sling with her free hand. "I had an accident at work last night and I'm still pretty sore."

Running away from the love of my life.

"What happened?"

"I–"She faltered, wondering whether or not to tell him the truth. "I fell down the stairs on my way to the lab." Well, it was true. "I landed on my arm and it's not sprained but it's pretty bruised. I"m just wearing a sling for a couple of days."

"I'm glad that you're ok." He sounded relieved. "So—" He clicked his tongue and she wondered if he was annoyed. "Why did you go home when I could have looked after you here?"

It wasn't an accusation—yet. But she knew that he wasn't happy about her not staying.

"I just wanted to go to bed in my own house, Finn." She said wearily. "I didn't plan on falling down and hurting myself and besides it's not like we live together."

"No, but you still could have called me." His tone held a slight reprimand.

This time she sighed loudly. "Look, I"m not trying to be rude here, but I'm really sore and I'm exhausted and I have to be back at the hospital in less than ten hours. Can we talk about this later?"

"Of course we can." He agreed. "I'm sorry Meredith—I just have such great news and I really wanted to tell you in person!"

"What news?"

"I can't tell you now. How about I pick you up for work and we'll grab a bite on the way?" He sounded like a school boy—so enthusiastic, so alive.

"Okay." She agreed. "How about four-thirty?"

"I'll see you then."

gagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagagag

Derek opened the door to the trailer softly and peeked his head inside. He didn't hear anything, didn't see Addison, and figured that now was as good a time as any to grab his beer and sit on the deck.

He didn't want to fight anymore with either Addy or Meredith. He felt broken hearted and lonely—which was not an easy thing to admit to, especially when he was married to one and dreaming about the other. Tears pricked behind his eyes as he grabbed the cold beer from the fridge and proceeded outside. He took off his raincoat and tossed it on the empty chair beside him.

Go home to your wife, Derek.

You don't belong to me.

Meredith's words echoed though his mind, always on instant replay. She doesn't want you anymore, pal. Suck it up. Be a man.

When had his life become so----stale and stagnant? By all rights he should have been happy with Addison, should have been proud to have such a lovely and accomplished wife—and even though he had tried he still couldn't stop loving Meredith.

It's not fair—not halfway to fair, he thought miserably as he took a good long drink. He was one of the best surgeons in the Country. He was good looking, not a drug user, responsible with money. He had pretty much what every woman was looking for—and he was completely and utterly at a loss.

At the sound of the screen door opening he felt himself flinch. He shouldn't have even bothered to come home. At this rate, he'd finished one fight and was now on to round two. Fighting with the wife and the mistress in the same morning had to be some kind of record.

He looked up at her—the wife that he still didn't know—the woman who shared his life, his bed—and felt nothing but regret—regret for wasting so much time when he knew that it would never work. She wore a green robe of silk and wore her red hair piled on top of her head.

No one could say that Addison Montgomery-Shepard wasn't an attractive woman; She had a super-sexy confidence about her----a real man eater at heart—and her combination of brains and beauty certainly hadn't escaped the attention of one Mark Sloan. How ironic it was because at that moment Derek Shepard truly wished that Mark would come back and sweep Addison off of her feet.

"Good morning." She said carefully, as she hung his coat on the back of the lawn chair and proceeded to sit down across from him. She studied him intently—he looked terrible—and she knew at once that he was brooding. "Did you have a good shift?"

"It was alright." He sipped his beer moodily. "Nothing special."

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Addison."

He was still angry and she knew that trying to make him talk was going to be useless. She knew him inside and out and knew that he'd had a fight with someone—and she knew exactly who the person in question was.

"You two have a fight?"

His eyes snapped toward her, fire igniting within. "What?" He asked sharply. Leaning forward, he pointed his index finger at her. "What did you just ask me?"

Her eyes narrowed. She'd had enough. "I know you, Derek. I know that you had an argument with her—or else you wouldn't be like this." She leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. "We should be able to talk about this. Like adults." She added.

"I"m not talking about her with you."

"Why not? It's the only thing we have left in common." She shot back.

"I'm not going there with you."

"Well, it's not up to you anymore." She stated flatly. "I want to talk about Meredith and you're going to listen."

"I don't have to take this shit." He snapped.

"No." She corrected. "I don't have to take this shit."

He went to stand but she put her hand out and pushed him back. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Something that I should have done a year ago."

"What's that?"

"I give up."

He widened his eyes. "What does that mean?"

She looked around at the scenery around them. "I mean that I'm not going to try and make this work anymore. You love someone else. I know that. I get it." She reached up to wipe a lone tear from her delicate lashes. "I'm going to stay at the Seattle Inn." She announced softly. "I've signed the papers. The only thing left is for you to sign them. But if you want to try again I'll stay."

" I don't know what to say." His voice was softer, calmer now. "I'm sorry for lashing out at you when I shouldn't have."

"What do you want to do? Sign? Not sign?"

He took a last swig of beer and tossed the can aside. "I want to..."

TBC