In My Blood:
Chapter 21:
Authors Note:
Thank you for all the amazing reviews! Ya'll are fantastic! : )
Questions from Reviews Answered:
Trixie's baby is a little boy who they are going to call Easton.
Easton is really Mark's baby.
Addison Montgomery's Point of View
Meredith walks into the bedroom to find me passed out cold on the bed. The blanket is on the floor, and the sheets are covered in a mixture of alcohol and blood. I had fallen asleep with an old box cutter in my hands.
"What the actual fuck Addison?" She asks, pushing the bottles that had fallen on the floor aside and making her way to the bed. "The downstairs looks just as bad as up here. You said you were going to do 'some' drinking this morning, not try and give yourself a second dose of alcohol poisoning." She informs me. "I thought we were past this?" She asks, not so gently trying to rouse me from my sleep.
"What are you doing here?" I ask. "What time is it?" I am falling in and out of sleep. I don't care to hear her answer, but she gives it anyway.
"I only had a half day at work today." She says. "It's about 1." She takes the box cutter from my hand, sits it on the dresser and shakes me, too hard, until I am awake again and make a sound of protest. My head hurts and my nose is stuffy. My eyes are red and stinging from tears. I am so exhausted. I don't move right away. She grabs my wrists, examining them. I open my eyes again just in time to see a look of dismay on her face. There are two new cuts across my left wrist. They are not as deep as I would have originally cut. I guess I was too wasted to cut properly. I must have passed out or… something. I am too week to fight her though. She examines the clotting and healing assessing if I need to go to the hospital or not. She looks relieved when she realizes that no serious damage has been done.
"Where's Oakley?" I ask. "Hopefully somewhere fun?" I am thankful that she remembered not to bring Oakley today.
"Derek has the day off. He took the girls to the park." Meredith says. "Oakley enjoys playing on the swing and watching the ducks swimming on the pond." She pushes the empty bottles and cans aside and sits on the portion of bed she's cleaned off.
"That's nice."
"You're going to have to stop this. You look a little bit crazy right now. If this gets to the Judge that you're still drinking and self-harming you're not going to be able to get Oakley back as easily."
"I feel a little bit crazy right now." I say. "I told mark we would work things out. I don't want to work things out with him, but I do want to work things out with him. God my brain is so screwed up." I complain, pulling the pillow over my head. Why is it so bright in here? Why is the world spinning around is circles? "I told him that we could be a family with his baby Momma and his adulterous love child."
"That's a tough situation to be in. You always were a people pleaser." Meredith says, and then takes the pillow away from me and helps me into a sitting position. "Is being a decent human being so bad that it's really worth this hangover you have? Is it worth choosing alcohol over your little girl?" Meredith asks, the first question with a little amusement, and then seriousness with the second.
"I needed to do some drinking. I'm thankful I did not have Oakley to complicate things."
"How will Mark feel about you being hungover?"
"Mark's opinion doesn't matter."
"It obviously does, or you wouldn't be drinking away your feelings right now."
"Mark wants to go get coffee again this afternoon, and then meet Trixie at the park around five." My anxiety is skyrocketing. I feel like I am going to throw up, though that might be from the drink. Who is this woman? Is she safe? What is she isn't a nurse and is really a drug addict or a prostitute? It is hard to trust Mark's judgement at the current time. I have to try though. I have to force myself to believe that he wouldn't put us in a position where we are in danger.
"That's not news. You may be drunk but you're not stupid. You knew that baby was his from the moment he told you. I know you did. I can see it in your eyes. You knew at some point you'd have to meet her if you want to have an honest chance at working things out with Mark." Meredith looks at me crossly, and I grimace.
"It's just a lot all at once." I try and explain.
"What time are you planning on leaving? It's already past 1." She asks, I don't want to leave. I want to burrow myself under my blanket and sleep from now until Christmas.
"I could call and cancel or … can't you go for me?" I plead, sticking my bottom lip out a little, whining. There is no way I will be ready to go in time. "I'm too drunk to…" I make a face and get up, quickly stumbling from the bedroom to the in-suite bathroom. I drop to my knees as a mixture of bile and alcohol come up. I lean against the toilet, trembling, waiting for the second wave.
"I most certainly cannot 'go for you'. It's not my husband's baby mama drama." Meredith says, and I look up at her. I know I must look pathetic. She holds my hair back as a second wave comes. She rubs my back until nothing more will come out and the dry heaving subsides.
"I am too drunk to be around. I can't parent and mommying Oakley and stuff and there is no telling what I'll do if he pisses me off." My words are a bit scattered and jumbled. She gets her medical bag from the closet. I don't know when she brought it over. She takes out a breath analyzer and has me blow into it. 0.25. She makes a ticking sound with her tongue as the monitor flashes red. I feel pathetic. How long have I been in therapy, and I am still resorting to these measures? My comping skills need massive improvements still.
"Well, you're certainly not driving anywhere. You're 0.17 over the legal level of intoxication."
"Could you call him and tell him I can't come? I don't want him to see me like this. What if he tries to take Oakley from me?"
"You should have thought about that before you went on a drinking binge." She says. She turns on the shower, ice cold, and helps me up. Practically pushing me under the water. I scream in pain, and then start crying angry tears as the cold water hits my skin and soaks through my clothing. "You better sober up, and fast." She informs me. "I'll call Mark and have him meet for coffee at 5 and everyone can go to the park afterwards. It will give you a few hours at least."
"I can't go alone." I say. I meant to say, 'thank you', but instead it turns into. "I'm scared."
"You don't have to go alone, but do you really want this to be Trixie's first impression of you?" She asks me. I don't know how to be myself anymore. Everything I am now the trauma that I've been through.
"You're right." I murmur. It's all I can think to say through my tears. I don't even know why I am crying, but now that they've started they won't stop. She leaves for a few minutes and comes back with several aspirin and a clear yellow drink on ice. She must have found my Banana Bag oral solutions in the kitchen cabinet. I am shivering as I take them from her, swallowing the aspirin and slowly sipping the drink. "Can we stop with the ice water?" I ask her.
"Have you sobered up yet?"
"I'm sad. I'm freezing."
"You're drunk. You'll be fine. You're not going to catch hypothermia from shower tap, you keep this house at 75 degrees year-round."
"This is torture. I could just get up and leave and…" She's not holding me down, she's not forcing me to sit here on the floor of the shower stall.
"I'd like to see you try it." She says, amused. "Addison you have to be strong. I can help you with your make up and your hair so you can look more like yourself. I need you to put on the mask, and play pretend. You know it will get easier eventually, It just takes time."
"I said the same thing about Oakley." I grumble miserably.
"You did and see how well that turned out?" She asks me, almost cheerfully. "You've gone from barley being able to be in the same room with her to keeping her for weekends and having visitation several times a week. That's progress Addison."
"Mark wants to regain full custody." I panic at the thought of this and bite down on my lip so hard that it bleeds. I wasn't able to handle having her here before. What if things go wrong again once she is finally home? What if she remembers that she hates me?
"I know that's a scary thought." She sits down on the toilet watching me carefully. "You've made so much progress in such a short amount of time Addison. The goal was always reunification before she's one. The goal has always been to have her home before she can truly remember what happened."
"This changes thing though. Mark is going to fight for shared custody of Trixie's child. She'll probably want to go through the courts, so everything is legal. What judge is going to grant him shared custody when they see what I've done?"
"You didn't do anything Addison. That's the whole point. There is nothing in the emergency custody agreement that would keep him from getting shared custody. It just stated that you could not care for her due to medical issues surrounding your oldest child's death, and that you wish for us to have custody until such point when the issues have resolved."
"I gave her away. I am an unfit parent."
"Oh, stop it with your self-loathing. You kept her safe."
"I wanted to hurt her." I still carry this guilt around with me every single day that I look at my beautiful little girl. I was in such a dark space that smothering her with a pillow seemed like an acceptable solution to my problems. It hits me all over again what I almost did.
"You wanted to hurt her, and instead you loved her enough to give her to someone who wouldn't."
"I'm an idiot. I can't do this Meredith. It's not realistic. I just want Mark back. I hate how much I need him. It physically hurts to need someone this badly."
"He's the love of your life. You do need him. I mean if he was gone, you'd survive without him obviously, but you are both so much better when you're together. You give each other strength. Any judge on this earth would look at what you did as an act of sacrifice to keep your baby safe. I don't think this is something we need to worry about right now." I finish the yellow drink, and we wait a while longer. When it stays down, she helps me out of the shower, I strip out of the wet clothing, and wrap in a bathrobe. We walk back into the bedroom, and I step into the walk-in closet to change. I step out of the closet, and she nods in approval at my outfit of choice. She places the medical kit she had grabbed on the bed, taking out alcohol swabs, anti-bacterial rub, and a type of medical wrap that you'd usually use for stopping the bleeding after getting blood drawn. It works better than traditional medical tape. She looks at me expectantly, holding her hands out. I move closer to her, turning my wrist upward so she can clean and wrap the cut.
"I'm sorry." I say, looking down at the two angry gashes.
"If you ever feel this way again, I want you to call me." She says, finishing the wrap and then forcing me to look at her. "Do you understand me?" I nod, but I am crying again. "I don't care if I'm at work or if it's two am. I don't care if you're drunk. I'll move back in if I have to." She had only just taken her things back to her home a week ago when the therapist gave her the all clear for me to be alone for extended periods of time.
"I'm sorry." I say again. "I don't know what happened."
"I should come back. Maybe you're not ready. Maybe it's too soon." She says, and I can see her formulating plans to take residence in the guest bedroom again.
"No, Meredith honestly I'm okay. I just made a mistake. You have to live your life. The girls need you. Derek needs you."
"They're fine. Addison they're safe. You're the one that's hurting. I'm the one who should be sorry. We should have taken things slower." She says, hugging me tight. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."
"So, this is who you were going for? The anti-Addison?" I ask Mark. We're sitting in the little coffee shop. He had passed me his phone to show me a picture of Trixie while he plays with Oakley. I take a sip of my iced green juice, glancing at the picture on his cell phone. She's leggy and beautiful. Her hair is the purest of platinum blondes. It must have cost fortune. She is at least as tall as I am. Mark likes tall women, just not as tall as he is. Taller than average.
"Addison you promised me you'd try." Meredith says, sensing danger.
"Seriously? That was when I was still drunk, before I realized how big of a hangover I have." I say, sitting my elbows on the table and resting my head in my hands, rubbing my temples hard. I fidget uncomfortably. Meredith wouldn't have approved of a first meeting in my ratty college tee and leggings. I fidget uncomfortably in a stripped cream and blue cardigan, with a white Cami underneath, skinny jeans, and high heels that I had grabbed from the back of the closet. She had blown dried my hair, brushed it out, and styled it. My make up is just so. I guess I would have done the same thing if the roles had been reversed, but still. I don't feel like myself.
"What happened to your wrist?" Mark asks, and I run my fingers through my hair, looking up at him. I hadn't realized that the sleeve of my cardigan had fallen down.
"Just an accident cooking, I'm fine." I lie to him so smoothly that I get a bitter taste in my mouth. I take another drink, swallowing harder than necessary.
"Since when do you cook?" He asks. "You don't look fine… Addie?" He reaches out to touch me, but I pull away, too quickly. He moves his hand back, looking shocked as if I had slapped it away vs just moving out of reach.
"She's hungover." Meredith explains. "She'll be alright, she just had a rough morning." Meredith says, explaining the obvious that anyone but Mark could see if they bothered looking.
"You're drinking again."
"I'm sorry." I apologize automatically. "I don't know what's wrong with me today." Mark gives me a look of concern, but Oakley draws his attention back to her. She sticks her hand in his cup, covering it in whipped cream, and then shoves it in her mouth. She looks so pleased with herself. I'm just impressed that she managed to do that without knocking his whole drink over.
"Are you hungry baby girl?" Meredith asks her. She takes out a jar of homemade baby food from her bag and a spoon. She opens it, and then gives it to Mark so he can feed her. He puts her bib on her. Meredith gets a highchair and puts Oakley in it, strapping the seatbelt. When she is satisfied that Oakley isn't going to slide out the leg holes of something she sits back down, and Mark begins feeding her.
"I don't want you drinking, especially when you have her." Mark says, feeding Oakley a bite of the mashed veggies. Meredith asked what I wanted her to do. I told her I didn't care as long as she didn't choke to death. So, she started with a mashed texture instead of liquid purees.
"I didn't have her." I say quickly.
"She didn't." Meredith confirms. "Derek and I had her."
"Even so." Mark says, turning to me "Look at the state you're in." He says. I ignore him. My head hurts too much right now, and the world hasn't quite stopped spinning. I wish they would stop talking to me. I rest my hands, listening to them as the ramble on, catching up, talking about this or that. Oakley babbles and laughs as she has her food and they coo over how cute she is, and Meredith catches Mark up on all the things he's missed. I stay silent through all of this. I wonder if they would notice if I went back to sleep. As long as no one calls Bizzy and tells her I fell asleep in a coffee shop we should be fine. My thoughts are interrupted when I realize that they're talking about me.
"Maybe this is all too soon." Mereidth suggests.
"What did you do to her?" Mark asks, and I know he is looking at me. I don't move.
"Me? What did you do to her? She's been like this since last night."
"We should cancel and do this another time. She's too fragile right now." He suggests.
"I agree, or I could go with you to take Oakley to meet Trixie."
"Part of me feels like we just need to get it over with. We need to rip the Band-Aid off so to speak. It will only get harder the longer we wait. Her anxiety will get worse. I didn't realize things were this bad. You're right, she can't handle…"
"Could you please just shut up already?" I ask quietly, but it catches their attention. "I'm not fragile, or broken or weak. I'm just hungover, so if you could please quit arguing so I can drink my green juice in peace? Let me finish my juice, then we can go meet this woman and I can get on with my life. Why am I even here?" I ask coldly. "You do not really need me to introduce your daughter to your girlfriend, do you?" I demand, looking at Mark with annoyance.
"She's not my girlfriend, and I want her to meet you. You'll like her Addison. I know you will." He says, like he is trying to set me up on a blind date. I cringe a little at this. "Please try and be nice. She is really sweet. She doesn't deserve your wrath. If you're not feeling up to it, we can reschedule."
"You should have thought about my wrath when you had an affair and got another woman pregnant. I don't know how either of you got the impression that I'm a nice person." I say, looking at them with a certain level of loathing. Despising myself for agreeing to this. "What's even worse is she knows that you're a wealthy established surgeon. She probably poked holes in the condom."
"You're a lot nicer when you haven't been drinking." Mark says, and Meredith shoots him a dirty look. He gives her a look like "none of my business" and wipes Oakley's mouth. Putting the little spoon, container, and dirty bib in a plastic bag in the diaper bag so the food soiled items would not contaminate everything else.
"You don't give yourself nearly enough credit Addison." Meredith says, glancing our way. She had taken Oakley from Mark while he cleaned up and is distracted from a riveting gave of peek a boo.
"I just don't see how I can like someone who screwed my husband."
"You like me." Meredith points out, and Mark laughs.
"That's different you're… well you're you. You were meant to be with Derek."
"You're BFF's with Meredith and you still tolerate my company so maybe you can like Trixie, or at least tolerate her for the baby." Mark says. "This baby isn't any different than Willow."
"It makes a world of difference." I object. "I had already divorced Derek, and he was remarried to Meredith before Willow was conceived."
"You were divorced from Derek and separated from me. It's not that different."
"I don't have a personal vendetta against your unborn child Mark. It's just that our lives are so screwed up right now. I don't know how we got here." I am so angry all of a sudden. I just want to throw my green juice against the wall. Instead, I get up and toss the mostly full cup into the trashcan, walking outside. They must have gotten the hint because they soon follow, and we walk to the park.
"You had a mental breakdown, and I had an affair. I don't know how to get back to where we were, but we need to try. You gave up custody of our baby. I got another woman pregnant. We've both done things we wish we could change, but that doesn't take away the fact that we are perfectly dysfunctional together."
"Hello! You must be Addison!" A woman in a short yellow flowing flowery maternity dress says cheerfully. She extends her hand. "I'm Trixie. Trixie Johnson."
"Yes." I say. I want to add 'unfortunately.' But I don't. I hate how cheerful and preppy she is. I hope this is just a nervous front in hopes of making a good first impression and isn't this woman's true personality. Who goes into something like this with such a bright and shiny temperament? It comforts me to think that maybe she is just as fucked up as I am, but better at hiding it. I try to give her credit. My thoughts of who she really is makes her seem slightly more human, and less Stepford Wife robot. "So where did the two of you meet?" I ask, my horrible attempt at small talk.
"I know this must be hard on you." Trixie says, gently, her voice laced with honey. I almost wonder if she is being sincere. "I just want what's best for Easton." She says. "I don't want him growing up without a father like I did." She looks down at her baby bump fondly, and places her hand when the baby kicks. I nod, and say I understand, but I make a show of staring off into the distance, watching Meredith who had taken Oakley down to the pond. She is sitting with her on her lap watching the ducks float around on the pond, occasionally bobbing their heads for fish. I don't think I will ever be able to return to work again. I hate happy pregnant people. Months of therapy and I now know this is because I am jealous. I didn't have that with Oakley, and thanks to the complications of the surgery I will never be able to have that again. Everytime, I see someone casually talk to their unborn child or place their hand just so on their bump I feel sick. I am taken back to being pregnant with Oakley. To absolutely dreading every moment that she moved or kicked. To feeling trapped, and isolated and suffocated as she grew inside of me. Even if I wanted to return to work, I wouldn't be able to. It's a difficult position to be in when you're a gynecologist. Even working as a neonatologist would be hard. We often work with high-risk pregnant patients as we prepare for their premature infants. I had happiness with Heavenly. I won't have that again and it's heartbreaking.
"Trixie is a pediatric nutrition and endocrinology nurse. She actually consulted on Oakley's case when she was first born and wasn't gaining weight. She's worked at the hospital for what is it? Ten years now? It's odd your paths have never crossed." Mark says. I must look like I am going to pass out because he squeezes my hand tightly.
"The hospital is a big place." Trixie offers when I do not respond.
"So, the baby's a boy?" I ask.
"He is." She says proudly. "We found out for certain at the ultrasound today, but I had a feeling."
"That's great."
"She's twenty-five weeks, but Easton was being so stubborn at the last appointment that the doctor couldn't get a good look." Mark says, looking at her with such admiration. I frown at them. Has he seen her through her entire pregnancy? Of course, he has. He's a good guy. He takes the ultrasound picture from his wallet and shoes it to me, beaming. I feel uneasy. He said they are broken up, but they seem too close, too comfortable with each other. Maybe I am reading too much into things. Sometimes people can break up and remain good friends, right? He is allowed to have friends.
"Congratulations, he's beautiful." I say quietly, looking quickly, but then I get distracted when Oakley begins to cry. Meredith takes out a bottle from the diaper bag, and hands it to her. She holds it and drinks, soothing. Meredith talks to her about all the different animals in the park and what they eat. She tells her if they're really quiet maybe they'll be able to see a squirrel or a chipmunk. I try not to notice just how beautiful Mark and Trixie look together. She is so healthy, and her skin is glowing. I look like he's picked me up in a dumpster somewhere. You can still see the dark circles under my eyes. No amount of makeup can hide that my cheeks are too hollow. I tried to disguise it with clothing, but my clavicle is too pronounced. My knees are knobby as a schoolgirl in this pair of stupid jeans.
"Your little girl is beautiful." Trixie says, watching Oakley and Meredith fondly. "How old is she?"
"Oakley is six months." I answer. "Is this your first baby?"
"He is." She says and makes a little expression. "He's so active today. That Gatorade they had me drink before the ultrasound really got him moving." She asks Mark if he wants to feel the baby kicking. He looks to me silently asking permission and I shrug. So, he allows her to take his hand placing it where the baby is. I know the exact moment when the baby kicks again because his eyes feel up with so much light and he gasps a little. He smiles, like it was an unexpected gift. She must be one of those women who felt the baby moving late, completely normal with first pregnancies. I look away. The moment feels to intimate for a third person. "Easton may have come about in a rather, unconventional way, but I love him, and I am so thankful he's here now."
"If we're going to do this, we need ground rules." I say, and Mark looks at me worried. I notice just how thick and luscious her hair is. How did she achieve that level of blonde and still have gorgeous healthy hair? Is it a wig? My hair has been thinning at an alarming rate since Heavenly died, and postpartum hormones have exacerbated the issue. I just want to go home and go to sleep. I can't do that if we're here making small talk.
"I know." She says. "I was thinking the same thing."
"He's, my husband." I inform her.
"I'm aware."
"We need to protect everyone involved, including you're unborn son."
"What were you thinking?"
"How much involvement do you want Mark to have with Easton?" I ask her. She stops to think about this for a moment. I go back to watching Oakley. They are playing patty cake now, or at least attempting to. Oakley cannot quite sit unsupported yet and we hadn't brought a seat for her. She's struggling, but she's trying her best.
"This is Mark's child. I want him to be involved with the remainder of the pregnancy. We got into this 'situation' together. I want us to both be as hands on and proactive as we can."
"That's fine, but the relationship between the two of you needs to stop. Now." I inform them.
"Addison we're not even toget…" Mark protests at the same time as Trixie says:
"We stopped being anything more than friends in February when I took the pregnancy test. I think it freaked us both out that birth control and protection could fail that hard." She says, and to be fair I see a hint of fear in her eyes. She's being truthful. This baby was an accident and she's afraid of what's to come.
"You're a nurse." I say to her, and then turn to Mark. "And you are a fucking doctor married to a gynecologist with two children and a baby on the way, so to come to me now and give me that sorry ass excuse that you didn't know how birth control works months after the fact is bullshit." I catch myself and look down quickly. I realize I had said two children. Technically the answer would be three children, but he never knew about Michael, Meredith is the only one who ever knew. Heavenly's death was not a secret though. It was a great tragedy. Mark must have told her about it, and it was in the news for months because who the hell shoots up a hospital daycare? I have to accept the fact that I need to change my wording. It will only confuse people if I say we have two children together, and we only have Oakley with us. They will ask where our other child is, and I will have to explain that she's dead. It's just not our reality despite how much I still cling to Heavenly. What I should have said is something along the lines of 'He's a doctor married to a gynecologist with a six-month-old and another baby on the way.' Or something like that. I miss Heavenly so fucking much. I wonder what she would think of Oakley. I bet she would be over the moon to have Oakley and even more excited to learn that she's also going to have a little brother. She always loved babies. She begged s for a younger sibling from the time that she could talk. She loved people too. She always called Willow her twin sister and said it wasn't the same thing as having a younger sibling because Willow is her twin. We tried to explain that they were not actually twins, it was to no use. Would Mark have still cheated if Heavenly had lived? If I wasn't in such a deep depression and fallen down into the depths of grief and despair? If I had been there for him, and taken care of him like a wife should?
"We'll do everything legally." I say.
"I agree. I can have my lawyer draw up the paperwork for a shared custody agreement to take place as soon as Easton is born. I don't plan on breastfeeding, and I'm not taking extensive maternity leave. There is nothing stopping shared time. I want Mark to have equal time with his son. I'll have my lawyer do the paperwork and send it to yours for you to review. I don't want to turn this into a fight. I want to keep this out of the courts if at all possible."
"That sounds fine." I say. "Mark will send child support payments weekly as soon as there is DNA confirmation that the baby is his."
"I don't need your money." She says, turning to Mark. "I don't want your money. I am more than financially able to care for our son."
"So, I'll set up a college fund then." Mark says. "I'll put the support payments in there, and he can take it out whenever he graduates high school. He can use it for whatever. College, trade school, a house, whatever." She looks uncomfortable with this, but she agrees. We sit in silence for a few moments.
"I want him at the hospital with me when the baby is born." She says, looking at me carefully, watching my expression. "I want him to be in the delivery room to help me welcome this little life we've created into the world." She looks away and then back at me, pleading. "I know we're not together, and we will never be together again, but this baby was made in love and should be surrounded by those who love him as he comes into the world."
"Of course, you do, because you're not already asking enough." I say, feeling annoyed, and I am not sure what the reasoning is then I know. It's not that she's asking too much. She's only asking for support from the person who put her into this position. It's the old feeling of terror from my own experience that I am feeling. It fills my soul as I think back to the day Oakley was born. I lied about being in pain so that they wouldn't give me anything that would possibly hurt it if the labor was real. The contraction, and the sheer panic when my water broke as I tried to convince myself it was anything but. Laboring without him, and then feeling the sudden rush of blood. Them rushing me to emergency surgery because the baby's cord had prolapsed, and she was having issues. Crying for him as they cut into me to save our daughters life. The feeling of my life leaving my body, and the anesthesia mask being put over my face, breathing in the sharp, sweet-smelling gas. The last thought in my mind being 'I'm dying and he's not here.' Meredith was here for me, and I will forever be grateful to her for that, but she isn't Oakley's father. I needed Mark. I needed to know that the love of my life was in the room with me, and that I wasn't going to die alone on that operating table. I needed to know that he supported me, and that he was going to be there for me, and for Oakley. That despite all the fucked-up things that have happened I wasn't alone in this world, and that everything was going to be okay. I didn't get any of the things she's asking for with Oakley. It's painful that she'll get that from him with Easton.
I look over to Mark who looks like this is nothing new to him. I know that they must have discussed it already, they have had months to make plans and discuss things like this together. My apple watch dings, and I look at it in annoyance, thinking it's the exercise app again, complaining about how inmobile I am, and telling me to walk and breathe, but I realize it's Meredith texting me.
'Are you OK?' The text reads.
"I'm sorry. That wasn't fair. I... I just need a minute. This is a lot and I need a minute." I say quickly, looking for any excuse to get myself out of this sutation I am in. I stand up and walk over to where Meredith and Oakley are playing. "Mama!" Oakley babbles excitedly reaching her little fat arms out to me when she sees me. I know she doesn't really know what the word means, and there is no reason she should associate the word with me, as I have been adamant about telling her my name is Addison, but my heart swells all the same. I pick her up and hold her so closely to my chest, sitting down beside Meredith. Oakley accepts this, and seems to think that it is nap time because she wiggles and squirms until she is in just the right position to hear my heart beating in my chest, and stills. We sit in silence for a few minutes, just watching the water, watching Oakley's chest as it rises and falls with each breath.
"I'm not okay." I say finally. I say this quietly, but the park is always so noisy that there is not really the chance of anyone overhearing me. "I need to go home."
"Things not going well?" Mereidth asks. She packs up the picnic blanket that Oakley was sitting on, and the toys into the stroller.
"She's perfect. She's beautiful, and smart. She has everything I can't have."
"What are you talking about Addison?" She asks me, confused. "You're wealthy. You can have anything your heart desires."
"Money can't buy what I want." I say, shaking my head sadly.
Authors Note:
Thank you everyone for reading! Please review! I think that Addison doesn't know how to feel at the moment. I really love this 'tension' between her and mark. I agree that Addison would try to make things work. She wouldn't want the kids to be without a father and Mark really is a good guy despite his flaws. Of course, that doesn't meant the road to get there will be easy though. EDITING ME: There was a review asking why Addison though Mark only had 2 children and 1 baby on the way when she had miscarried Mark's baby. I did fix it upon the rewrite though. It now reads that the answer should be three, but she never told him about the baby they lost which I believe is what I originally answered, but now it's fixed in the story.