A/N: Thanks so much for your amazing feedback on the last chapter and the story so far! I can't tell you how much I appreciate it! I hope you're all staying well and safe and are having a good weekend. Here's the next chapter; I hope you like it, and I'd love to hear what you think! Stay well!
"You look nice."
She looks at her ex-husband questioningly.
"What?" Derek shrugs. "You do."
She's not used to this. She used to be. But not anymore.
She's used to Derek looking past her. Pretending she doesn't exist. She's not used to Derek looking at her – complimenting her. Even doubling down and complimenting her again.
"Addie?" he raises an eyebrow in concern.
She blinks in surprise. "I was just ... about to tell you that you look nice too," she recovers. "Great minds, I guess."
He smiles broadly at the compliment, and she can't help reflecting on what must have been hundreds of dinner dates over their eleven-plus years together.
It never got old coming down the stairs and seeing him all dressed up. It never got old watching his reaction when she came down the stairs all dressed up.
And it still hasn't.
This, of course, isn't a date. It's just dinner. It's closure.
"Ready to go?" Derek grins as he opens the front door for her.
She nods and they make their way outside.
"I can drive," he offers, gesturing to his rental car.
"Okay," she agrees. She starts making her way to the passenger's side when she has second thoughts.
"Actually, Derek, wait."
He turns and looks at her questioningly.
"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach before dinner? You know, while it's still light outside?"
She cringes at the words coming out of her mouth. A walk on the beach? The be-all, end-all of romantic clichés. She wasn't trying to be romantic when she made the suggestion. And maybe if it were someone else, it would feel more platonic. But it's Derek, so that's impossible.
"I just meant that I miss this beach," she explains. "I know we both live by the water, but that's the west coast. And ..." she trails off, wondering if she sounds as ridiculous as she thinks she does.
"I get it," he cuts in gently. "The east coast is different."
"Yeah," she breathes.
"We should walk on the beach," he smiles. "Before it gets dark."
She's not sure why Derek is agreeing to indulge what she can only describe as a cringey cliché. Maybe it's because he feels bad about what happened with Bizzy. Or maybe it's because he actually gets it – that while the west coast has beaches (and gorgeous beaches, at that), the east coast beaches are different.
For all she knows, he may be agreeing for his own completely different reasons. But whatever the reason, they're going.
The second her toes hit the sand she's hit with a flurry of memories. The day they bought their house in the Hamptons. Countless summer barbeques with Savvy and Weiss. Late nights, just her and Derek on the beach, passing a bottle of wine back and forth between them, sharing hopes and dreams in hushed whispers.
This summer, lets ... and Next, summer, we should ... and When we come here with our kids one day, let's make sure to ...
She swallows roughly and does her best to push away those memories. She and Derek may not have this summer, or next summer, or the summer that they come back with their kids ... but they have tonight.
And while she certainly doesn't expect things to go back to the way they were, she and Derek can at least end things better than they did the first time. They deserve that much. And she's going to –
"Help! Somebody! Somebody, please help me!"
Addison immediately whirls around, trying to locate the anguished voice. It seems to be coming from behind her. And she doesn't even need to look over at Derek to know he's doing the exact same thing. Their eyes connect as they locate the frantic man, desperately screaming out for help. And without exchanging a word, they begin jogging over to him, matching each other step for step.
"I need a doctor!" the man cries as Addison and Derek jog closer. "My wife," he continues, gesturing wildly to the woman shaking violently on the ground beside him.
"She's having a seizure," Derek says, dropping to the ground beside the woman and carefully rolling her on her side. "Addie," he motions for his ex-wife, cocking his head toward the woman's rounded belly.
"She's pregnant," the husband chokes out. He turns to Addison. "Is your husband a doctor?"
"We both are," Addison nods. "He's a neurosurgeon and I'm a neonatologist."
"Really?" the man breathes.
Addison nods again. "We need to get your wife to a hospital." She looks at the man questioningly. "Did you call 911?"
"No ... I ... it happened so fast ... I should have, but I ..."
"It's okay," Addison says calmly, pulling out her phone and calling for an ambulance.
"Does your wife have a history of seizures?" Derek asks.
"No," the man chokes out. "This has never happened before. We're here on our babymoon, and ... she's never had anything like this happen before. She's completely healthy."
"What about the pregnancy?" Addison asks. "Any complications?"
"No," the man shakes his head. "None. She didn't even have morning sickness."
Addison nods mutely as she takes in the patient's puzzling medical history. Perfectly healthy mother, perfectly healthy pregnancy. There's something missing. And in her experience, when that's the case, it's usually not good.
"Addie, she stopped seizing," Derek says, ripping her from her thoughts.
Addison nods and crouches down beside Derek. Once upon a time, she would have marveled at this – at her and Derek's ability to communicate without words. Their ability to have conversations with each other that take place in between the lines.
Derek simply told her that the patient had stopped seizing. What he meant was go ahead and examine her.
Once upon a time, she would have viewed this moment as a testament to their strength as a couple. Their ability to communicate with each other, and only each other. But nowadays, she knows better. She knows that this moment is a professional one, not a personal one. If anything, it reflects their strength as doctors.
And she can't help wondering how many other moments with Derek she misread over the past several months leading up to their divorce. Moments where she was so focused on trying to save her marriage, she was blinded to the truth.
Now, of course, isn't the time for these thoughts or doubts or unpleasant trips down memory lane.
She has a patient to examine. She starts to gets to work, but the moment she touches her patient, the woman starts violently convulsing again.
"Honey," she calls out, getting Derek's attention. "She's having another seizure. I need you to monitor her."
Right now, his specialty needs to trump hers. And she's not too proud to admit it.
(She'll overanalyze the fact that she called him honey—and that he responded—later.)
"Okay," Derek says calmly, closely monitoring the woman closely as she continues to seize. "It's going to be okay."
It could have been seconds or minutes, but the woman's seizure stops, and Derek's calling to her again.
"Ad, she seems more stable. I think it's okay for you to examine her now. What do you think?"
Addison looks at the woman closely and sees she's regaining consciousness.
"Wha ... what happened?"
"You had a seizure," Addison tells her calmly.
"What?" The woman's eyes are wide. Her hand automatically moves to her stomach. "My ... is he okay?"
"I'm going to check you out," Addison reassures. "My name's Dr. Montgomery, and I'm a neonatal surgeon."
"And her husband's a neurosurgeon," the woman's husband pipes up.
Addison does her best not to look surprised.
Her husband?
(She'll analyze that later too.)
By the time ambulance shows up, Addison has assessed that the baby isn't in immediate danger. Though she still wants to run some scans.
Derek also wants to run scans of his own on the woman's brain and put in for some lab work.
The EMTs are wheeling the woman into the ambulance, when her husband shouts out. "Wait!"
Addison blinks in surprise.
"You're coming with us, right?" He gestures toward the back of the ambulance.
"We can meet you at the hospital," Addison offers. And Derek nods in agreement.
"I'd feel a lot better if you rode to the hospital with us," the husband admits, looking at Addison pleadingly. "You too," he adds, switching his attention to Derek.
"Both of us?" Derek asks uncertainly.
"You're a brain surgeon, and your wife operates on mothers and babies," the man explains. "I want both Dr. Montgomeries to ride with us."
"What?" Derek's eyebrows raise to his hairline, and he looks over at Addison.
"In case something happens on the ride over to the hospital, I want you both to be there," the husband clarifies, completely missing the source of Derek's surprise.
Addison and Derek exchange another wordless look, and Addison shrugs at him helplessly. Apparently, this man thinks they're married and thinks their last name is Montgomery.
Now clearly isn't the time to correct him. Addison knows that. And Derek knows that as well. Which is why the two of them hop in the back of the ambulance without a word.
xxxxx
"What's so interesting, Sav?" Weiss asks settling down next to his wife on the living room couch.
Savvy looks up from her phone, her eyes wide. "I just got a text from Addie. She and Derek are in the hospital."
"What?" Nancy asks in surprise from the adjacent futon. "Are they hurt? They didn't hurt each other, did they? I mean neither of them are violent people, but –"
"They're fine," Savvy reassures. "They were walking on the beach and a woman was having a medical emergency. Now they're at the hospital with the woman, and they're running some additional tests."
"They?" Weiss clarifies. "As in both of them?"
Savvy shrugs. "Addie didn't get into the details, but, yes. Apparently, the patient is a pregnant woman with some type of neurological issue."
"Those two always manage to find work," John sighs.
"They do," Weiss nods in agreement. "But this time ... I'm really happy they're together."
xxxxx
"I hate this," Derek grumbles.
Addison nods in agreement. Derek doesn't clarify what this refers to, and he doesn't need to. Because she gets it. And she hates it too. Less than he does, but still.
"That woman was my patient. I made the diagnosis. And how does the hospital thank me? By not giving me surgical privileges to remove the woman's brain tumor." Derek shakes his head angrily. "I get not wanting to take on liability. But I'm not a liability. I'm that woman's best shot."
"It's really not a complicated surgery, Derek," Addison points out.
"The patient is pregnant," Derek disagrees. "That makes it high-risk. It should be me and you in there operating. Not whatever second-tier surgeons this hospital has."
"Excuse me, Dr. Montgomery?" a male voice cuts in.
Addison spins around at the sound of her name, and sees the patient's husband, Robert, (they learned his name in the ambulance ride to the hospital) rushing over.
"I just want to thank you both," Robert continues. "For being there for my wife on the beach. For running all those tests and figuring out what's wrong. If you two hadn't of been there, well ... I don't even want to think about what would have happened."
"I'm glad we were there," Addison says, giving Robert a comforting smile.
"My wife's going to be okay, isn't she, Dr. Montgomery?" Robert asks in concern, his attention focused on Derek. "You said she has a benign brain tumor," he continues when Derek doesn't respond. "And that's the less dangerous kind to have, right?"
"Dr. Montgomery," Addison prods, jabbing Derek with her elbow. "You're being asked a question."
"Oh, uh, yeah," Derek recovers. "Benign brain tumors are less worrisome than malignant ones. But the team is still going to monitor your wife very closely after the surgery to make sure there weren't any complications or additional concerns that we should be aware of."
Robert nods slowly, doing his best to take it all in. "And the baby?" he asks, turning to Addison.
"The baby's stable," Addison reassures. "And a neonatologist will be in the operating room the whole time your wife's in surgery, monitoring the baby to make sure he stays stable."
Robert nods again. "I really wish it were you two in there."
"I know," Addison agrees quickly.
Quite frankly, she doesn't trust Derek enough to respond to Robert in this situation.
"But we both spoke to the attendings who will be in there with your wife," she continues. "They seem very competent and very on top of things."
"I guess that helps a little," Robert sighs. "I just ... I can't lose her. I can't lose them."
"I know," Addison says quietly.
She wants to say you won't, but she can't promise that.
But even in the short time that she's known Robert, it's obvious to her how much he loves his wife and their unborn child. It's painfully clear. He can't lose them. That she knows.
A pang of guilt curdles in her stomach as she finds herself thinking back to Seattle, and the ferryboat accident. There were so many missing and unidentified people – the magnitude of it was overwhelming and she found herself asking aloud, If I went missing, would anyone notice?
Karev said he would. And she was touched that he said that. Still, he wasn't the anyone she was referring to. She knows Derek wouldn't have noticed. He barely noticed her in Seattle – despite the fact that they worked together every day and lived together for a non-inconsequential amount of time.
Robert would notice if his wife went missing. No two ways about it.
And she knows it's wrong, but she can't help feeling the tiniest bit jealous of them ... which only makes her feel worse. This couple is literally going through hell right now, and she's envious.
"Derek," she says meeting her ex-husband's eyes. "I think we should head home for the night."
He looks at her questioningly, but finally nods in agreement. And after giving Robert their very best wishes, they make their way out of the hospital.
xxxxx
"Are you going to tell me what the hell that was about?" Derek demands.
They're sitting on a bench just outside the hospital, waiting for a cab to pick them up, and he's fuming.
"I'm sorry, what?" Addison asks in confusion.
"You," Derek sputters. "In the hospital just now. Not even fighting for a good surgery. Just giving it up."
"You think that's what I did?"
"I do. And I don't get it. You're the one who seems bored and unchallenged by the cases you're seeing at your private practice. Why would you turn this case down?"
"Derek, I already told you, it's not a great surgery. Any halfway decent neurosurgeon and neonatologist could do it."
"So?"
"So, if someone else can do it, and the patient isn't in danger, why do we need to do it? We didn't come here to practice medicine ... and mediocre medicine, at that. I can do that back in LA."
And Derek can't help reflecting on Addison's choice of words. Back in LA. Not home.
"We came here for Weiss," Addison continues. "We came here to be with Savvy ... and Nancy and John. I just ..." She shakes her head sadly. "Never mind."
"No, come on, what is it?"
Addison looks at her ex-husband for a moment, internally debating. But she quickly thinks better of it and shakes her head again. "It doesn't matter."
"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Derek challenges.
Addison narrows her eyes in response. And he can tell from the way her jaw is set that that's going to be the only response he's going to get from her.
So, he wracks his brain, trying to pick apart the exchange they just had.
He wanted them to take on the surgery. She didn't. He thought it was an interesting case. She thought it wasn't interesting enough – or dire enough – for them to give up spending time with their friends.
And suddenly he gets it.
This isn't about tonight. Well, it's not just about tonight.
All those extra cases that he took on back in New York. All those extra cases that caused him to get home late or not come home at all ... the vast majority of them, he technically could have passed off to someone else.
Addison never once stood in the way of his career. If anything, she enabled it. And he enabled hers. And maybe that's why he never noticed ...
"Addison?"
"What?"
"Back in New York ... towards the end of our marriage ... I took on extra cases ... extra cases that I could have handed off to someone else. Another attending ... a junior attending ... maybe even a resident ..."
"What's your point, Derek?"
"You didn't like it."
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
Her voice is serious. As serious as she'd been at the beach and the hospital, it pales in comparison to how serious she is now.
"Both, I guess," he swallows.
She shakes her head. "You can't have it both ways."
The thing is, he doesn't know if he's asking her or telling her. So, he thinks back, hoping that his memories of New York will help him gain some type of clarity.
He remembers the disappointment on her face when he'd tell her that he had to work late. But they were always disappointed when the other one had to work late.
He thinks harder. Back to conversations, half sentences, and parts of questions.
That's the third time this week, Derek. Can't they get someone else to ...? Why can't a resident ...? But today was supposed to be your day off ... Isn't there anyone else who can ...?
He remembers – snippets of conversations, parts of sentences, and half-questions. He remembers all that. What he can't remember was if and when things changed. When she went from being supportive to irritated to ... hurt, maybe?
"I'm asking," Derek says quietly. "Because the truth is, I don't know, and ..." he swallows thickly, "I want to."
She blinks in surprise. She's not sure she's hearing him correctly. And maybe that's actually the case because her heart is pounding so loudly in her chest, she can hear it ringing in her ears.
Derek wants to talk. About their marriage. He doesn't want to blame. He wants to talk. He wants to listen.
She swallows roughly, her throat thick. "Derek," she whispers, her voice uncharacteristically small.
And he leans in closer.
This is it.
No anesthesia. Here we go.
"Derek ..."
She winces and both instinctively turn away from the pair of high beams shining in their faces.
And just like that, the spell is broken.
She sighs sadly, and stands up from the bench. "That's our cab."