A/N: Thanks so much for your very kind feedback on the last chapter! I really appreciate it. I think many of you sensed that this story is coming to and end. This chapter is the last chapter—kind of. I couldn't resist an epilogue, and I'm really hoping to finish it and post it soon. In the meantime, here's this chapter. I hope you like it. Happy almost end of 2020!

Over the years, Addison has leaned that, sometimes, when a big party ends, there's a sense of calm that follows, and she really likes it. Derek's thirty-fifth birthday is a good example.

They had a party at their brownstone with family and friends, complete with good food, good drinks, and, of course, good birthday cake.

It was a good party by all accounts.

But it's the moments after the party that Addison really remembers. She remembers slipping off her heels and sinking into the couch, her head resting on Derek's chest. She remembers pouring them champagne and bringing out the uneaten cake ... and actually having the chance to enjoy it.

It was a moment of blissful calm—just her and her husband—eating birthday cake and sipping champagne together.

Then there are times after a big event that are less relaxing. Like the Hotdog Thanksgiving. The aftermath of that day was anything but calm. There was yelling and screaming and crying, and they both said things they probably shouldn't have.

Although, looking back, it wasn't all bad, she supposes. Her and Derek's fights tended to lead to make-up sex, and the Hotdog Thanksgiving was no different.

In what felt like mere moments, she went from screaming at him in anger to screaming his name in ecstasy as they had sex on the kitchen floor—again and again—until there was nothing left for them to argue about.

It certainly wasn't a calm evening. But, looking back, it ended up being pretty blissful.

Tonight, though, is different.

Weiss' birthday weekend is over. Derek left. Then Nancy and John left. And, finally, Savvy and Weiss left.

And now it's just her, alone in her house in the Hamptons.

Nancy invited her to spend the night at her and John's place. She insisted that her kids would love to see their Aunt Addison. But that's exactly what Addison can't handle right now, so she declined.

Sure, it would be great to see the kids, and their boundless energy could be just the distraction she needs. But ultimately it would be too painful. It would be an all-too-real reminder of the family she once had and the family she lost when she and Derek divorced.

Savvy also invited her to come back with them. But Addison couldn't take her up on that. It's still Weiss' birthday weekend and Savvy and Weiss need time alone.

So, now it's just her in her Hamptons house—sitting on the couch, a glass of red wine on the coffee table, and the rest of the bottle nearby.

She's alone, and what's worse, she's lonely.

She's tempted to call Naomi. She's a recent divorcee, so she might understand. Except Addison knows she won't.

And she can't exactly call Savvy. Not after they just spent the whole weekend together.

The thing is, there's really only one person she wants to call. And she can't call him.

He's on the plane.

But more importantly, she can't call him because their weekend together is over. She needs to get on with her life, and he needs to get on with his life. And he ... is apparently calling her.

She looks down at her phone in surprise.

"Derek?" she answers breathlessly.

"Addie."

She doesn't need to see him to know he's smiling. She can hear it in his voice.

"Aren't you supposed to be on the plane?"

"My flight got delayed because of the weather."

Addison glances toward the window. "The weather's fine."

"The weather's fine here," Derek points out. "But I'm flying into Seattle, where it's always raining. The weather's not fine there."

"Oh."

"I guess that's what I get for living in Seattle," Derek chuckles. "Did you end up staying at our beach house?"

"Derek."

"What?"

"Why did you call me?"

"Because my flight's delayed," he says simply. "And ..." he continues after a beat of silence, "I miss you."

"Derek, you shouldn't be calling me. You shouldn't be—"

"Then why'd you answer?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said I shouldn't be calling you. But you answered."

"I did answer," Addison admits.

"Why?"

"Because ..." Addison sighs. "Because maybe I miss you too, and maybe I'm not ready for this weekend to be over yet."

"Addie."

The warmth in his voice is unmistakable, and for a moment, she lets it envelop her.

"Derek, I—"

But he cuts her off.

"Truth or dare, Addie?"

"Derek," she chides. "The weekend's over. That doesn't work anymore."

"The weekend isn't over," Derek disagrees. "I'm still in New York. So, come on, truth or dare?"

Addison sighs in concession. "Then, truth, I guess."

"Truth, you guess?" Derek chuckles.

"Truth," Addison says more decisively.

"Good choice," Derek approves. "Tell me the truth, what was your favorite part of the weekend?"

"My favorite part of the whole weekend ...?" Addison repeats as memories of the past few days assail her thoughts.

Her and Derek working together to save that pregnant woman on the beach.

The woman's husband thinking that Derek's last name was Montgomery, and her (and ultimately Derek) playing along.

Her and Derek talking on the bench outside the hospital ... and then really talking in the back of the cab.

Her and Derek kissing outside Savvy and Weiss' house ... and then again at the vineyard ... and then a lot more throughout the weekend.

Her and Derek having sex in the back of his rental car ... and then again in her bedroom.

Her and Derek talking ... actually talking. Having the conversations that they should have had years ago, but didn't.

The way Derek naturally wrapped his arm around her waist, the way she instinctively rested her head against his chest, the way they slipped back into the way things were and the people they used to be.

"Addie?"

"Oh," she stammers in embarrassment. "I, um, I guess my favorite part of the weekend ..." she trails off. "All of it."

"All of it?" Derek asks in surprise.

"Yes," Addison nods. "But mostly the parts with you."

It doesn't matter that she can't see him; she knows him well enough to know he's smiling.

"Derek?"

"Yeah?"

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Same question."

"Same question?" Derek chuckles.

"Yeah. What was your favorite part of the weekend?"

"That's easy. Having sex in the back of my jeep."

"Derek," Addison scolds.

"What? You asked me to tell the truth."

"I did," Addison agrees. "I just ... wasn't expecting you to be ... so truthful."

Derek laughs heartily at that, and the genuineness of his laugh warms her body in a way that even the best glass of red wine can't.

"It was a great weekend," Derek continues, growing serious. "Especially the parts with you."

"Derek," Addison smiles.

A not so insignificant part of her is tempted to end the phone call—right here, right now. She and Derek never had the chance to end things properly. This would allow her to do that.

Except she's not ready to end the conversation. She wants to hear the sound of his voice and the sound of his laugh just a little longer. For just a little longer, she wants things to be the way they were.

"Archer did a pretty good job cleaning up our place," she tells Derek.

"Well, I should hope so," Derek chuckles. "I still wouldn't sleep in our bed, though," he tells her, growing serious.

"Oh, I wasn't planning to."

For a number of reasons.

Archer and his flavor of the week ... and what they did in said bed are the obvious reasons.

But the less obvious, but equally compelling reason is that she doesn't want to. Not without Derek.

She just referred to the beach house as our place, and neither of them thought twice about it. He just referred to the bed in the master bedroom as our bed, and neither of them flinched—not in the slightest.

She doesn't want to sleep in their bed without Derek. She doesn't know if she can.

"Or at the very least, change the sheets," Derek chuckles, ripping Addison from her thoughts.

"Right," she agrees weakly.

"Addie?" Derek asks in concern.

"I'm fine," Addison insists quickly. "Really."

"Really?" he asks. And she can tell he doesn't believe her. (Not that he's wrong.)

"Really," she persists. "I just ... I forgot how much I missed this."

She begs and prays that he doesn't press the issue and ask her what this refers to. She could say New York, she could say being together with everyone again ... and it wouldn't be untrue. But it wouldn't be what this refers to.

She missed him. She missed them. She missed the way things used to be.

"I know," Derek says, cutting into her thoughts. "I missed this too."

He didn't press it with her. She's not going to press it with him. Besides, she understands what he means by this. Just like he understands what she means.

Just because they're no longer married doesn't mean they don't know each other better than anyone else.

xxxxx

He's tempted to offer to come back to the beach house. She's just vulnerable enough that he thinks there's a chance she'd agree to let him cancel his (already cancelled) flight and spend the night with her.

And he'd offer. Except he can't—for reasons that have nothing and everything to do with her.

He keeps replaying his conversation with Savvy over and over again in his head.

I just want you to be happy. That's what she said to him as he was leaving.

Everyone knows that Savvy's on Team Addison—always and without question. But when she was trying to convince him to stay, she hardly focused on Addison. She focused on him and his happiness.

Addison makes him happy. Plain and simple.

And he likes to think—and deep down, he knows—that he makes Addison happy.

It's just that Addison is being stubborn. And a part of him gets it. They've caused each other a lot of hurt over the years, and he gets her being wary when it comes to jumping back into something serious with him.

He gets it. He has his doubts about jumping back into something serious with her too.

But he still wants to.

He just doesn't know how to. He was tempted to exchange his ticket to Seattle for one to LA and surprise her when she gets back.

But he doesn't think that'll go over well.

She may not be happy in LA, and LA may not be home, but LA is her place. There's nothing reminding her of her past there (unless you count Sam and Naomi, which he doesn't). And he doesn't think that she'll appreciate him—the epitome of her past and everything she was trying to escape—surprising her in LA.

So he didn't buy the ticket.

"Do you know when your flight's supposed to take off?" Addison asks, cutting into his thoughts.

"Oh, um, it's delayed for a while," Derek stammers. "You'd think that pilots who regularly fly into Seattle would be used to flying in heavy rain, but I guess not."

"Better safe than sorry, I guess."

"Yeah," he agrees. "Plus, it gave me another opportunity to talk to you."

"Derek."

"What?" he asks innocently. "I'm glad I got another chance to ... um, Addison, would you mind holding on one second?"

He quickly puts his phone on mute just in time for his five-year-old niece, Maeve, to barge in.

(Over the years, Derek's gotten pretty good at following five-year-old logic. Maeve knocked once; Derek didn't answer. This fully entitles her to enter the room. He's glad he was prepared, though; had Maeve heard him mention Addison, she would have insisted upon speaking to Aunt Addie, and it would have been game over.)

"Dinner's ready," Maeve informs her uncle. "Mommy wants to know if you're coming."

Derek can't help smiling at his niece, who already looks so much like his sister. "Can you tell your mom I'm going to be a few minutes late?"

Maeve sighs dramatically and shakes her head. "Mommy's not going to like that."

"Yeah, well that's Lizzie for you," he mutters under his breath.

"What did you say, Uncle Derek?" Maeve asks curiously.

"Um, I was just saying that you're probably right; your mom might be a little annoyed with me. But that's okay. I'll be down for dinner in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay. But don't take too long."

"I won't."

He watches his niece's retreating form, and when he's sure she's gone he unmutes his phone.

"Sorry about that," he apologizes.

"Is everything okay?" Addison asks.

"Yeah," he nods. "I just, um ... I thought they were making an announcement about my flight," he lies. "But they weren't."

xxxxx

She didn't sleep well last night. She ended up talking on the phone with Derek much longer than she'd planned to, and when they hung up, she spent the night replaying their conversation in her head. She spent the night replaying their weekend together in her head. She spent the night replaying their marriage in her head. And she spent the night replaying the breakdown of their marriage and their divorce in her head.

Needless to say, she didn't get much sleep.

She's glad that she and Lizzie decided to meet for lunch and not breakfast. Lunch at least gave her some time to pull herself together and look somewhat presentable.

"Hello," the hostess greets her at the New York City restaurant where she and Lizzie agreed to meet. "Do you have a reservation?"

"I do," Addison nods. "I'm meeting someone. She's probably here already."

"Okay, great."

"The reservation should be under Shepherd," Addison continues, feeling a twang of sadness saying the name that used to be her name.

"I'm just used to my name." That's what Derek told her this weekend on the cab ride back from the hospital.

"I was too." That's what she said back to him.

"Hmm, I don't see a reservation under Shepherd," the hostess apologizes, ripping Addison from her thoughts.

Addison blinks in surprise. "Maybe she made it under her first name. Is there a reservation for Lizzie?"

"No ..." the hostess says, shaking her head. "I don't see it."

"Oh. Then—"

"Wait!" the hostess cuts in. "Montgomery. The person you're meeting said you might think the reservation is under Shepherd or Lizzie. But it's under Montgomery."

"Why would Lizzie make a reservation under my name?" Addison asks in bewilderment. She turns to the hostess. "Are you sure the reservation's under Montgomery?"

"I'm sure," the hostess insists. "Let me show you to your table."

Addison shrugs halfheartedly, still a little confused. But her confusion turns to downright shock when she arrives at her table.

Lizzie is nowhere to be seen.

But Derek is.

He's sitting at the table, by himself, a wide smile on his face.

She blinks in surprise, half expecting the whole thing to be some type of hallucination or something. But when she opens her eyes, he's still there—sitting at the table, grinning widely.

"Dr. Montgomery?" she chokes out, half laughing, half crying.

"Addie," he says softly.

"Der—"

"Would you like to hear about the specials?"

Derek and Addison both turn in surprise (and annoyance).

"Does it look like we want to hear about the specials?" Derek seethes to their overeager server, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Oh, um, right. Got it," their server stammers. "Sorry. You two just take your time. I'll come back over in a few minutes," he continues, blushing heavily when Addison and Derek glare in his direction. "Or better yet, why don't you come get me when you're ready?" He motions abstractly. "I'll just be over there."

"I wish you'd hurry up getting over there," Derek mutters through gritted teeth.

Addison can't help chuckling at that. She settles into the seat across from Derek and waits for their server to be out of earshot before turning to her ex-husband.

"What are you doing here, Derek?"

"I'm here for you."

"Derek."

"I mean it, Addison. I know you said just this weekend. But this weekend isn't enough for me. So, I cancelled my flight and spent the night at Lizzie's because I needed to see you."

Addison looks at her ex-husband in confusion. "So, you didn't call me from the airport last night?"

"Nope," Derek shakes his head. "I called you from Lizzie's guest bedroom."

"And there wasn't a storm in Seattle?"

Derek shrugs. "There may have been. But if there was, it didn't have any impact on my travel plans. I never had any intention of leaving. Not if you're still here."

"Derek, I don't—"

"Wait," Derek cuts in. "Before you tell me that you don't think this is a good idea, and before you say that we shouldn't do this, let me tell you something first."

Addison nods hesitantly. "Okay."

"Truth," Derek tells her. "This weekend was the best time I've had in longer than I can remember, and it was because of you. Truth ... I didn't realize until this weekend how much I miss you."

"But, Der—"

"Truth," he cuts in. "I don't want to go back to Seattle. I don't want to go anywhere that you're not. Truth," he continues, his eyes softening, "I know we've both made mistakes and I know we still have a lot to do to fix our relationship. But I want to put in the work. I want to fix things. Because the truth is that I love you, and I want to be with you. I'm not asking you to get remarried, but I think we deserve another chance."

She swallows roughly as she takes in all in ... every last truth her ex-husband just confessed.

"Addie?" he looks at her nervously.

She meets his eyes and gives him a soft smile. "I think you just won Truth or Dare, Derek."

"What?" he looks at her in confusion. "You mean ...?"

"I mean I love you," she whispers. "And I want to give us another chance."

"Really?" he breathes, and they're both up out their seats, moving toward each other.

"Yeah," she smiles, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply.

It's not exactly appropriate restaurant behavior (and Bizzy would literally have a stroke if she witnessed it), but Addison doesn't care.

Some things are more important than restaurant etiquette. And it's not like they haven't already done worse this weekend.

So she continues to kiss him heatedly. And it's nothing like the way she kissed him this weekend ... because this time, she's not worried about this being their last kiss.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Derek breathes when they finally break apart.

"Yeah," she whispers, tenderly stroking the side of his face with her hand. "I do."

"Good," he smiles. "I do too."

He's escorting her out of the restaurant—both completely lost in each other, and completely oblivious to the unimpressed looks they're receiving from various onlookers at the restaurant—when he turns to her and smiles.

"Hey, Addison ... dare."

"What?" She stops walking and turns to him in confusion. "Dare? Are you asking me or telling me?"

He contemplates this for a moment. "Both, I guess," he shrugs.

"I'm not following," she admits.

"I dare us to move back to New York," he grins.

"You dare us to move back to New York?"

"I do."

"That's not a dare," she shakes her head.

"What do you mean it's not a dare? Addison, of course it's a dare."

"It's not a dare," she insists, pulling him in and kissing him playfully. "It's inevitable."