A/N: Thank you so much for your kind feedback on the last chapter and this story so far! I love hearing what you think, and your reviews and messages mean a lot. Here's the next chapter; I hope you like it. Hope you're having a good weekend and staying safe and well!

Derek rolls over in bed for what feels like the thousandth time that night. The bed's insanely comfortable, he should be able to sleep. But he can't.

His mind's going a mile a minute.

He's been in the Hamptons for less than a day, and it's been eventful, to say the least.

He realizes he could have avoided all of it if he would have left when Weiss asked him too – if he didn't turn around when Weiss caught up with him and asked him to stay.

He wouldn't have played truth or dare. He and Addison wouldn't have ended up alone together – on the back patio, on the beach, on the hospital bench, in the cab, and outside Savvy and Weiss' house. Addison wouldn't have kissed him, and he wouldn't have kissed her.

He'd be on a plane, heading back to Seattle. He may even be back at his trailer by now.

The thing is, he's glad he didn't leave.

Because as confused as he is, he finds himself energized for the first time in what feels like a long time. He finds himself looking forward to tomorrow.

Which is a problem because he can't fall asleep.

If he's going to get any sleep tonight, he has to have a critical conversation first. So he makes his way out to the living room—fixing his hair first—and waits.

"This better be good, Derek," Weiss grumbles sleepily as he emerges from his bedroom and joins his friend in the living room. "What's so important that it couldn't wait until tomorrow?" he asks, sinking into the couch.

"I kissed Addison," Derek whispers.

"Obviously."

"She told you?" Derek asks in surprise. "She told Savvy and Savvy told you?" he amends.

"No," Weiss chuckles. "I mean she may have told Savvy. But Savvy didn't mention anything to me."

"Then how did you—"

"I know you, Derek. That's how I knew. I know you don't think any of us know you anymore, but we do. Especially Addison." He looks at Derek closely. "You know what else I know?"

"What?"

"That you're happy."

"What?"

"Not with your life in Seattle," Weiss clarifies. "You're happy you came out here. Your skin looks clearer, your eyes look brighter. You missed this, Derek. You missed her."

"I think you're overstating things, Weiss."

"That's fine," Weiss shrugs. "But I don't think I am. Do you want to know what else I think?"

"Do I have a choice in the matter?"

"Hey," Weiss rebukes, "you were the one who texted me at ..." he checks his phone, "three in the morning, on my birthday weekend, because you needed someone to talk to. I would think you'd be very eager and very grateful to hear my two cents."

"Fine," Derek nods in concession. "Sorry. What do you think?"

"I think you're lying to yourself. I think you've been lying to yourself for a long time now, Derek."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why did you come out here this weekend?"

Derek blinks in surprise. "For your birthday, Weiss. You know that."

"No," Weiss shakes his head.

"What?"

"You didn't come here for my birthday, Derek. Not really. You came here for Addison."

"Weiss."

"You knew she'd be here," Weiss points out.

"Yeah, so? I knew you'd be here too."

"Yeah, but if you wanted to celebrate with me, we could have done it somewhere else. You hate the Hamptons."

"I don't hate the Hamptons," Derek insists.

"Okay, fine," Weiss concedes. "You like the Hamptons. But only because Addison does."

"That's—"

"Too much truth for you?" Weiss fills in, raising an eyebrow.

"Weiss, I came here for you," Derek persists. "40's a big one. I wanted to be here."

"That's touching, really," Weiss says, giving his friend a wry smile. "But, Derek, if you wanted to celebrate my birthday, you would have flown to New York, and we would have gone to a Yankees game ... and then maybe to a cigar bar ... or someplace we know our wives would never go with us."

"But Savvy already planned—"

"You don't need to defend yourself," Weiss cuts in. "It's me, remember? I know you."

"But I'm—"

"Not ready to accept it yet," Weiss supplies. "I know." He stands up and pats Derek's shoulder. "I'm going back to bed," he yawns. "Just ... think about what I said, okay?"

"I guess," Derek shrugs.

"Good," Weiss approves. "You'll thank me for it later."

Derek's not sure about that. He's not even sure that a lot of what Weiss said makes sense. But it's three in the morning, and Weiss clearly wants to sleep, so he's not going to push it.

There's just one thing.

"Um, Weiss?"

"Yeah?" Weiss turns to look at him.

"You said our wives."

"What?"

"Before," Derek clarifies. "When you mentioned us going to a baseball game or going somewhere our wives would never go with us. You said our wives."

"Did I?"

"Yeah," Derek nods. "You did."

"Oh," Weiss shrugs. "I didn't realize." He gives his friend a tired smile. "Get some sleep, Derek."

"Yeah, okay," Derek agrees, stifling a yawn. "Thanks, Weiss."

"Don't mention it. See you in the morning."

"Yeah," Derek nods as both men make their way back to their respective rooms.

But as Derek shuffles back to his room, he knows something isn't right. Weiss said our wives, and then insisted he didn't remember saying it ... or that he misspoke.

The thing is, Derek knows Weiss. And part of knowing Weiss is knowing that he's one of the most formidable attorneys on the eastern seaboard. Lawyers don't misspeak. They just don't. They choose every word very, very carefully. And Weiss is a very good lawyer, which means he's even more deliberate than most.

Weiss remembers. And he didn't misspeak – Derek knows this with certainty. But now's not the time to press it.

So he does the only thing he can do. He adds that confusing exchange to the ever-growing list of confusing things that are weighing on his mind, and he tries to get some sleep.

xxxxx

He wakes up the next morning to an empty house. Actually, he wakes up to a note in the kitchen. Went for bagels. Be back soon!

It's so predictable, he can't help but smile. Of course, they're out getting bagels. He even knows which bagel shop they're at because Weiss is a bit of a bagel snob (to put it mildly) and is very particular about where they get bagels from.

Not that he's complaining, right now. Seattle has many things going for it, but bagels are not one of them.

His lips twitch upwards as he remembers a quip Addison made one time when they were eating bagels together in Seattle. "These are pieces of bread with holes in the middle. It's insulting to call them bagels." At the time, he made a comment about how nothing's ever good enough for her. But, if he's being honest, she was right – Seattle bagels don't even belong in the same food group as New York bagels.

He's not sure how long ago his friends left or when they'll be back, but he figures he might as well try to get a shower in before they get home.

He's heading back to his bedroom, freshly showered, towel wrapped around his waist, when he realizes that not everyone went to get bagels.

"Addison?" he chokes out in surprise as his ex-wife passes him in the hallway, also wrapped in a towel.

"Derek?" she gulps, equally surprised. "I didn't realize ..." she stammers, pulling her towel around her more securely. "I thought everyone was out getting breakfast."

This doesn't need to be awkward. He should say something to make it less awkward. They've seen each other in less – too many times to count. He should say something to break the tension.

Except he can't. And, apparently, neither can she.

"Addison, about last night ..." he begins, finally finding his words. "I want you to know that we –"

"Should probably have this conversation when we're both fully dressed," she fills in quickly.

"Oh," he looks down uncomfortably. "Um, yeah. Yeah, you're probably right," he recovers. "Then, um, I'm just gonna ..." he trails off, gesturing toward his room.

"Right," Addison nods. She motions toward the bathroom door. "And I'm gonna ..."

"Yeah ... of course."

And for a second neither of them moves.

They're stuck in place, just staring at each other, his piercing eyes meeting her pale blue eyes.

And he can't help thinking about what Weiss said last night – our wives.

If that were the case, he'd be joining Addison in the shower, insisting that his first shower didn't get him clean enough. (And then they'd make some silly play on the words clean and dirty). If what Weiss said last night were really the case, he and Addison would have only taken one shower between the two of them to begin with.

But that's not the case. That's the way they were, not the way they are.

And yet, he can't bring himself to move.

"Addison...?"

"What?"

"I was wondering ..." he runs a hand through his wet hair. "We never did get to walk on the beach last night. Not really, at least. And I don't think Savvy and Weiss are coming home any time soon. So ..." he gives her a small smile, "do you want to go for a walk on the beach with me?"

"What?"

"Do you want to go for a walk on the beach with me?"

"Now?"

"Yeah," he smiles. "Now."

"I ..."

Have to shower ... don't think it's a good idea ... think we should wait for Savvy and Weiss to get home, and then we can all go ...

That's what he's expecting her to say.

But to his surprise, she's smiling at him.

"I'd like that," she admits.

"Good," he says, returning her smile. "Me too."

"Just give me a few minutes," she gestures to her toweled form. "I need to change."

He chuckles. "I should change too."

And he can't help thinking that this is yet another example of just how wrong Weiss was last night when he referred to Addison as his wife.

If Addison were his wife, this conversation they're having wouldn't be painfully polite. He wouldn't be forcing his eyes away from her half naked body and she wouldn't be prying her eyes away from his. (And he's not being vain or anything; it's just that he knows Addison and knows that's exactly what she's doing).

"I'll make us some coffee," he offers.

Because I'll be ready first. That's what he doesn't say. It's what he doesn't need to say. He's always ready first.

"Thanks," she smiles. "I'll meet you downstairs."

xxxxx

"Take two," Addison says as she and Derek step out onto the beach together.

"Yeah," Derek chuckles, lightly tapping his to-go coffee cup against hers. "I guess it is."

"The beach is empty," Addison comments, looking around.

"Off season," Derek shrugs.

"Yeah," she agrees.

"We prefer it that way, though."

"We?" she raises an eyebrow, both at his choice of phrasing and how casually he said it.

He shrugs. "You prefer the beach when it's empty, and so do I. So, yes, we prefer it that way."

He's not wrong, of course.

When they used to go to the Hamptons during the summer, they'd wake up ridiculously early – before anyone else was up – and walk on the beach together. And they always made trips out there late in late September and early October, when fewer people were there, so they could have the beach to themselves.

And then there was that trip in December – that unforgettable trip – almost fourteen years ago.

"Derek, are you sure about this?" she asked, when he insisted that they drive down the Hamptons. This was before they owned their place down there. "The Hamptons are empty this time of year. What are we doing here?"

"You'll see," he said coyly.

She certainly did see.

It was on that trip that Derek proposed. They were walking on the empty beach, just the two of them, enjoying their season, when he dropped to one knee and asked her to be his wife.

"Addie?"

She blinks in surprise, registering the drops of moisture pooling in the corners of her eyes.

He looks at her closely. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she says quickly – too quickly to be convincing. "I just ... must have gotten some sand in my eyes or something."

One look at him tells her he doesn't believe her. But she also knows by the softness around his eyes that he's going to pay her the courtesy of not pressing the issue.

"Remember that one summer?" he asks, a small smile forming on his face.

"With the boat?" she asks, chuckling at memories she hasn't thought of in ages.

She remembers that summer clearly, though. Savvy and Weiss (but mostly Weiss) bought a boat. Weiss couldn't have been more excited about it; Savvy was considerably less enthusiastic. And Addison and Derek were the big winners of it all.

It turned out that Weiss was much better at being an attorney than he was at being a sea captain, and after some truly terrifying boating excursions, he agreed to sell it at the end of the summer. But that wasn't good enough for Savvy, who insisted that until then he give the boat the Addison, who'd grown up around boats her whole life, and Derek.

She and Derek spent a little time boating. But, mostly, they found other, more fun uses for the boat.

"No, that was that other summer," Derek says, interrupting her thoughts. "But it was good summer," he admits a smile coming to his face.

We had a lot of good summers here – is what she doesn't say. She wants to remind him that his life before Seattle wasn't all bad, but she knows from past experiences that this usually ends in him making a snide retort, or sulking, or getting angry.

And she doesn't want to ruin the semblance of peace that they have going right now. Still, she can't help herself.

"Derek, truth or dare?"

"What?" he asks in surprise.

"You heard me," she says, giving him a playful smile.

"Just making sure," he chuckles. "Okay, truth."

She swallows thickly, suddenly growing very serious. "Do you ever miss this?"

"Do I ever miss this?" he repeats carefully.

She nods. And she secretly hopes he doesn't clarify what this is. Because she doesn't know. Or maybe she does know, and just isn't ready to acknowledge it yet.

"Derek?"

"No," he says quietly, not meeting her gaze. "No, I don't."

"Oh," she swallows roughly, her throat quivering. "Yeah, I didn't think so."

"Addison, I—"

"You don't need to explain," she insists, fighting with every ounce of her to keep her voice stiff and unaffected.

The truth is she wants nothing more than to hear his explanation. But she's not sure she can handle it. A line by line comparison of how amazing his new life in Seattle is, and how his old life in New York never fit him – that might just destroy her.

She gets it – New York (and everything that went along with it) means nothing to him. She witnessed it firsthand in Seattle. It's just ... being here with him this weekend has felt different.

"It's not that, Addison," Derek cuts in, "It's just—"

"Let's just enjoy the rest of our walk on the beach, Derek," she interrupts before he can get anything else out.

"But—"

"We'll talk about it later."

xxxxx

We'll talk about it later. That's his line ... or so he's been told. Admittedly, he said it to Addison more than a couple of times in New York and Seattle. And admittedly, being on the receiving end of that line hurts.

Admittedly, their beach walk was ruined.

And now he's sitting at Savvy and Weiss' dining room table, spreading impossibly good cream cheese onto what he knows will be an impossibly good bagel.

Addison, who's sitting across from him, won't even make eye contact. She's deep in conversation with Savvy. At least, that's how it would appear to an outsider. But Derek knows better. Eleven-plus years of marriage and several marital spats makes it clear as day to him – she's ignoring him.

And maybe he can't blame her. She asked if he missed this, and he told her no.

He had to.

The whole time he could hear Weiss' words from the night before in his ears. You missed this, Derek. You missed her.

The truth is, he's not sure. Or maybe Weiss is right – he knows the truth; he's not ready to accept it yet.

Still, he had to say no when she asked.

Because if he would have said yes, there's no telling what would have happened. Maybe nothing. But based on the events of the weekend so far, it likely wouldn't have been nothing.

And he's not sure they can handle that.

Their divorce is still relatively new. He's coming off a breakup, and she's not happy with her new life in LA. And while Weiss wants them to go back to the way they were for the weekend, he can't help worrying about leaving her worse than she was before the start of Weiss' birthday weekend.

So he said no. Because he knows her, and he knows that she's already accepted that narrative.

Still, the hurt in his eyes was impossible to miss. And he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his heart twist.

"You miss this, don't you Derek?"

"What?" he looks at Weiss in confusion.

"The bagels," Weiss clarifies, pointing to his own cinnamon raisin bagel. "Decent cream cheese. You're practically salivating over there. And I don't blame you. The west coast has nothing on New York bagels."

"Yeah," Derek breathes in relief.

Weiss is talking about bagels. Bagels are simple.

"Yeah, I miss this," he finds himself agreeing.

The words taste weird coming out of his mouth. He misses the bagels, sure. But this? He's still not sure.

What he is starting to realize is that maybe it wasn't Addison's feelings he was protecting when he told her no. Maybe it was less about telling her a narrative he knew she'd already accepted, and more about telling himself a narrative that he'd accepted – and not just accepted, paraded in front of her and everyone every chance he got.

What he knows for certain, though, is that his answer is more complicated than the flat out no he gave Addison.

He steals a glance at her. She's still deep in conversation with Savvy, pretending he doesn't exist.

She deserves more, he realizes. They deserve more.

He can't say his answer is yes. But it's also not no. And she deserves to know that.

And if she'll look in his direction, he'll tell her. He owes her that. One way or another, he needs to have a conversation with his wife. Dammit, his ex-wife. (Weiss has always been a bad influence).