Eventually, we ended up on the shag carpet in my office, our bodies intertwined. Derek would never have done something like that before. I could only remember a few times that he and I had had sex in the bathtub let alone any other room in the house. He just didn't have that kind of passion in him about us, our relationship. I think it was there once, when we were first married, but it disappeared over time. Or maybe it was always just me. After all, we were the two pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that fit perfectly, exact opposites in almost every way. I was the fiery redhead that everyone said kept him on his toes. He was the perfect man, who went about his business calm and composed. He never got upset or emotional. In the years since we began our residencies, I never once saw him bring a case home with him emotionally speaking, and he would belittle me when I did exactly that.

"They're patients, Addison! They are supposed to be sick." He would say whenever I tried to talk to him about a case that touched me.

"But they're people, too." I would reply.

"You let yourself get too emotionally involved with your patients, Addie. You'll never be able to keep doing your job if you always come home at the end of the day and worry about Mrs. Jones and her sick newborn."

"What is wrong with you? They are people! They have families who are scared and sad and hurt!"

"I know that they are people, but you have to understand something here. We can only do so much as surgeons. We're not gods. We put forth our best effort and hope that it's enough. Sometimes it isn't, and when that happens, it's hard enough to have another death on your record without thinking about poor, widowed Mr. Allen and his two young daughters. Don't think about the families. Just do your job, and come home and do the job you have here. Be a wife."

"I am trying to be your wife! Sometimes it feels like it's a little one-sided here. I work, cook for you, keep this place spotless, and what do I get in return? Nothing! You ask me to be a wife. Well, Derek, I'm doing the best I can, so if there is something that I'm missing, a key quality to being the perfect wife, let me know what it is!"

"You're too emotional. Let's talk about this when you aren't screaming, and you haven't been taken over by estrogen."

"It's not estrogen. It's called being HUMAN! You should try it sometime."

I turned over to my side so that Mark was spooning me and settled myself into his body. Staring into space, I wondered how my marriage had lasted as long as it did. Derek wouldn't let me have feelings for ten years, then Mark was there. Over time Mark had become one of my best friends, too. I knew I could come to talk to him about a case that was tough. He would listen while I cried about the newborn I couldn't save or hold my hand when I had just told a family to say their last words. Sometimes, it was just a shoulder squeeze when we passed in the hall. Whatever it was, Mark let me know he was there.

"What are you thinking about, Beautiful?" Mark pulled me from my daydream.

"Nothing. I thought you were asleep."

"I'm awake. I've been laying here wondering what's keeping you so still and quiet."

"It's nothing."

"The Addison I know is never still or quiet for more than two seconds. What are you thinking about?"

"Mark, I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, I'm here for you, you know."

"Yes, I do know."

"When you get ready to tell me what's on your mind, I'll be here. Preferably right here, exactly like this, but here nonetheless."

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer to him. I leaned my head back and gently kissed him on the cheek. He pulled a blanket off of the futon in my office and covered us. Then, he kissed my neck on the spot just below my ear that, when kissed, makes me feel so content and complete. I turned to look at his face and stared deep into his eyes.

"He never once understood why I brought a case home." I told Mark. "Sometimes it's because those cases hit too close to home."