I didn't forgive her.
Those words had taken her aback when Derek had literally snarled them to Mark, though Addison had known they were directed to her. It wasn't as if she'd expected some magic switch to be flipped and suddenly all would be forgiven, but that didn't lessen the sting the words had left behind.
A soft squeak from the other room reached Addison's ears as Derek shifted his weight on the bed. The trailer was small and only about 10 feet separated them, but another gap kept them apart, one that was almost insurmountable. The gap had become a constant in their relationship, not leaving even when they were physically the closest.
Addison couldn't help but suspect that she had placed the gap there. Mark had made the point that Derek knew very little of what had transpired in New York after he'd left. And she wasn't sure why she hadn't told him. Maybe she was protecting Derek. Maybe she hadn't believed it was important.
Why she hadn't told him wasn't the point. The fact of the matter was, she was keeping secrets from him. Closing herself off from the harsh judgment she knew he would impose. These secrets, and the silence, had become an impenetrable wall.
Addison knew she wasn't alone in keeping things inside; Derek rarely ever stepped out of the playful persona he had developed. But she also knew that in the next room Derek's mind was working over the exact same thoughts. She knew that he felt the wall of silence as much as she did.
She lifted the mug to her lips and drained the last of the tea, which had become cold in the time she'd been sitting there. She put the mug on the counter by the sink and turned her gaze towards the bedroom. Her eyes met momentarily with Derek's and she crossed to the doorway.
It was time to tell him: time to break down the wall.
"I didn't do it just to hurt you," Addison began, "I loved him."
"Are you trying to make things worse?" Derek retorted.
"Stop being bitter and shut up," She replied, "You need to know."
Derek nodded in concession and crossed his arms over his chest.
"You and I had been over for a long time when Mark and I first started…" She trailed off, trying to find a delicate way to express herself.
"Fucking?"
Addison glared at him, "Can you not just listen, Derek? Because I can walk out of that door and find someone who isn't going to ridicule me."
Derek shrugged, silently urging her to continue.
"I really liked him. You and I hadn't been together in such a long time. And, well, you know Mark. He was always there, he reminded me a lot of what you used to be like. I guess I reached out to him; I needed something and he fulfilled it."
Derek grimaced. Listening to his wife describe her sex-life with his former best friend was far from comfortable. Just her words managed to bring the scene he had witnessed when he had discovered Mark and Addison back to his consciousness.
"Addison, fast forward your story. I don't need the visual of you and Mark together," He requested.
"Well, after you left Mark and I stayed together. We tried to have a relationship. And I guess we did," She admitted.
Derek sighed, he could see how difficult this was for Addison and he felt obligated to speak. He felt obligated to say something that had meaning and wasn't the cruel spite he'd become so efficient with.
He ran his hand through his hair and managed, "So why'd you come back?"
"I wasn't done with you, Derek. You left quietly, without a fight, and I needed more. I needed to yell. I needed to fight. I could never have lived with myself if I let you slip away," She paused and took a moment to really see the man sitting on the bed in front of her.
He was wearing the same black lounge pants he'd changed into every night for as long as she'd known him. His white shirt was unbuttoned most of the way, revealing his toned chest. Though there was much more pain and experience behind them, his eyes were still as beautiful and captivating as when she'd fallen in love with him years ago.
"Was that why you came out here, to end this?" Derek broke her concentration and prompted her to continue.
"No. Yes. No," Addison spit out, uncertain of the real answer, "I don't know, Derek. We had unfinished business and nothing could happen in my life until we resolved it. I'm not going to lie or sugar coat it, Derek. Mark and I had something. We had something really special."
"You gave him up for me?" Derek wondered skeptically.
"I left for my marriage. Mark and I did not have a marriage. I chose my family," she explained.
Derek nodded, trying to process the information his wife had just thrown at him, "Forgiving you is not easy. You can't walk in here and spill everything and expect it to be fixed. This is a lot bigger than that."
"Fine, I accept that," She nodded, "But you should know, Mark asked me to meet him at Joe's tonight. He wanted me to come home to New York with him. A part of me wanted to run off into the sunset with him, but I came here. I don't think it's too much to ask you. Is my home here, or is it in New York?"
Addison hadn't realized it, but her hands were sweating. Her knees were weak. It was suddenly dawning on her that everything hinged on Derek's answer. And she couldn't predict what he would say. He could just as easily send her packing for New York while he stayed with Meredith as he could invite her to stay with him.
She was so engrossed in her nervousness that she hadn't seen Derek raise from the bed and cross the room to her. In fact, she nearly jumped at his presence when she found him standing just inches from her with his hand on her hip.
"I still can't forgive you," He whispered, "But I can tell you that your home will always be with me."
Before Addison had a chance to respond, Derek's lips had captured hers for a kiss of tenderness she hadn't felt from him in years. He looked into her eyes for confirmation that his answer had been the one she was looking for, and she gave and almost imperceptible nod. With a grin he kissed her again and slid his hands across her stomach to undo her robe.