So…I finally managed to stop obsessively watching the final Mer/Der clip from Thursday's episode long enough to write some more. Okay…well, I didn't stop obsessively watching it. It went on a brief hiatus, but I may need to watch it one more time before going to bed. Because just…le sigh. It was fabulous.

Anyway, about my story. This is still the same day. Very long day, no? But, now it's night, so I guess that counts a little. Hmmm… But yes, thanks so much for the reviews. I'm glad to hear people are enjoying the story, and getting understandably antsy for silly Derek to go about fixing things. He is a silly boy, always remember that. Hee. Anyway, that's about it for now. Enjoy!

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It's only up to you
It's the hardest pill to swallow
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Addison walked with practiced caution over the darkened ground, making her way from her car towards the silver mass of the trailer. When she had first moved all her belongings clear across the country, and came to live in what was, without a doubt, the middle of nowhere, she had nearly sprained her ankle twice on her way to and from work. Three inch heels did not cooperate well with the rough uneven ground surrounding the trailer. But she had gotten used to moving slowly and deliberately, testing the surface for hidden holes before allowing her full weight to sink down upon the tiny delicate spikes of her heels. It had taken practice at first, but now, she could move effortlessly across Derek's land. Derek's land… Even after several months, in her mind it remained simply Derek's land. She was always just a guest--just a visitor. It was Derek's house…trailer, whatever. It was where she lived, but it wasn't her home. It didn't feel like her at all. If she thought about it, she had nowhere to call home anymore. But thinking about that was unbearably lonely. Shaking her head as if to force her thoughts into submission, Addison threw her head back, staring up at the dark and star studded sky. It was beautiful; a velvety blackness pierced with hundreds of diamonds of light. A sad smile played across her face, and unwillingly she tore her gaze from the heavens. As it returned to the earth, she caught sight of another figure, approaching the trailer from the opposite side. Even in the murky darkness of the late evening, she could make out who he was; the outline of a fishing pole resting against his shoulder, the blacker smudge amongst the shadows that marked the presence of his unruly raven hair, and the familiar easy gait with which he traveled closer and closer towards her.

Without realizing it, her steps slowed to a crawl. Addison could barely remember to breathe, and consequently she moved aimlessly, shuffling a little more as she walked, her gaze darting to and from Derek. After days marked by absolute silence and absence, there he was. Simply fishing, as if everything were still normal. She rolled her eyes just before he drew close enough to read the expression, but it was a pathetic empty protest anyway. Because, even though she was annoyed that he was fishing--that he had apparently vanished to go fishing--at least she had finally found him.

They stopped walking at the same time, freezing within a few feet of each other. Eyes shone in the darkness as they stood still and stared at each other. Addison couldn't bring herself to speak, and Derek couldn't think of anything to say, suddenly wishing that he'd stayed down by the bank for a little bit longer. He was surprised to see her standing there in front of him. Jerking his head slightly in a rough form of a greeting, he reminded himself that it shouldn't be surprising to find Addison coming home to the trailer, that it was where she lived. Still, everything felt strange, as if they'd fallen away from their life and into an altered world where they still looked the same, yet felt like perfect strangers. Addison didn't even return his greeting, but simply wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging her dark woolen jacket close to her body. His mouth felt dry, but he finally forced himself to speak.

"Addison…"

The name was a hollow whisper, almost stolen away by the wind, but she finally nodded in response. After that brief burst of sound, silence came rushing forward full force again, holding them immobilized. They stared uncertainly at each other, both somewhat unsure of the other's intentions.

It was Addison who broke the silence this time, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "You smell like…fish," she said simply, a sudden flicker of her old personality shining through as she arched an eyebrow, scrutinizing his damp and muddied clothing. Derek lifted the dead form of a trout in response, its scales glistening in the pale light. A hint of a proud smile ghosted across his face, but it faded away at the sound of Addison's quiet moan of revolt.

"Sorry," he said quickly, lowering the fish. "I'll go put it behind the trailer." He indicated his direction with a tilt of his head, before striding purposely away from her.

"Thanks," she murmured, her voice soft and as deliberately polite as his had been. She walked the remaining feet to the small wooden porch erected in front of her home, an imperceptible sigh escaping her lips as she made it onto the solid sturdy surface of the steps. Pushing the door open, Addison walked into the dark and empty trailer. She glanced around her surroundings hesitantly, feeling unexplainably out of place. She didn't move beyond a trip to the light switch, not even to take her coat off; she simply stood there fully dressed, waiting for Derek to return.

And, it took him awhile. He moved with a slowness that mirrored his wife's halting uncertainty; as if every last second he could squeeze in for himself out alone in the night was precious, possibly holding the answers he'd failed to find down by the water. But, at last, the fish was resting on the low table out back, and he'd set his fishing rod down. He couldn't seem to slow the pace of his natural stride, and so all too soon, he found himself blinking in the bright light that now flooded the trailer. Addison was standing with her back to him, still clutching her coat tightly to her body. She didn't stir in the slightest as the door slammed loudly behind him, but rather remained perfectly immobile. With a shrug that wasn't even half as casual or careless as Derek would've liked, he made his way to the sink--washing his hands as meticulousy as he did when scrubbing in for surgery. The water was scalding hot, but he barely noticed. His mind was too busy racing uncontrollably. Addison was standing next to him, and he had nothing to say. He hadn't had time to come up with anything to say. A part of him wanted to race down to the water, and find sanctuary in the wildness there; to stall, and avoid, and put off for a little bit longer. But it was impossible now that their paths had crossed in perfect solitude. Resigning himself to stumbling forward blindly into this, Derek turned off the faucet, moving to dry his hands on a dishtowel. And, as the sound of the water ceased, Addison finally turned around to look at him. Illuminated by the glowing bulb above them, he saw clearly how tired she was. Her eyes seemed paler than usual, as if sadness were somehow washing out their natural color and sparkle. Her lips were drawn into a thin line that seemed to mimic her posture, as if she seeked to curl herself up and close herself off as much as possible; an animal desperately seeking the safety of its shell.

"Addison," he said gently, calling her name for the second time that night. Once again, she only nodded. The small gesture of her head seemed resigned, and it emphasized the new vulnerability he had filled her with in a way that was physically painful. As he stared at her, Derek finally came to realize that nothing good would come of delaying what he had to do. Even if holding out meant that he could find a way to end them eloquently--to do their marriage justice--it wouldn't be worth it. Lingering on only made the pain worse, he could read the proof of that written clearly across her face. He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the dark curls back away from his eyes as he forced himself to speak. "We need to talk."

She laughed at that, nodding her head again. But, it was a cold and empty laugh; a haunted echo of a sound that was supposed to be happy. After the discordant noise had faded from her lips, she agreed with him, saying, "Yeah…we do." Once again, they stared at each other, and this time both pairs of eyes were pained and brimming with uncertainty. Derek opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it, as if the burst of laughter had freed her words. "You're having a baby," she said quietly. Her voice was low and it trembled slightly; the sentence sounding like an accusation as it hung between them.

Derek simply nodded. "I am."

Those two words struck her hard, shattering the fragile hold she had on her composure. Addison sunk her teeth hard into her bottom lip to stave off the tears that were already burning insistently at the corners of her eyes. She hadn't cried once since finding out Meredith was pregnant, and she had been able to find an odd sort of pride in the fact. She didn't want to lose her hold on that claim, but she could feel sobs building at the base of her throat. Addison shook her head, forcing a deep calming gulp of air into her lungs. It worked--for the time being--and she finally stammered out the exquisitely painful half of the truth. "Without me."

The admission seemed to rob her of her height, shrinking her down into something infinitely small and close to breaking. It propelled Derek forward, his arm looping around her waist, steering her trembling form towards the bed that waited just a few feet from them. Addison thought about pulling away and pushing his hand off, but she felt as if she were no longer quite certain of how one went about standing. Her body quaked, choking on a sob that she just barely managed to swallow into submission, and her knees gave way. Giving up, she leaned into him, letting his steadying hands guide her down to rest on the soft surface of the mattress.

"I'm sorry Addie," he murmured, feeling utterly helpless as he folded her long slender hand within his own. Even her fingers felt as if they were trembling, and there seemed to be no variance in temperature between the cold metal of her wedding rings and her own flesh. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I was wrong to let you find out the way you did, so wrong." Derek was studying her face intently, watching as she shook her head. Her lips had all but disappeared into a thin little line, and she rocked back and forth slightly, at war with herself to keep from crying. "Addie," he tried once more, the sound full of an old and gentle familiarity, but carrying an undertone of pure concern. Her constant shivering scared him, and he wanted it to stop…yet, he suddenly felt as if he'd lost everything he had learnt over the past eleven years about calming his wife. He reached out with a cautious hand, placing it back around her waist again to draw her closer.

While it didn't comfort her, it did get her to cease rocking. She shook her head sharply, finding her voice. "No," she stammered, scooting away from him as she drew her breath in a sharp hiss. "I'm okay. I'm good," she said determinedly, fooling neither him nor herself. Still, Addison turned and offered Derek a strained smile, her eyes shining. "Why wouldn't I be?" she asked, and her voice was high and tense--the perfect compliment to her expression. "You're having a baby. That's great. Really great, Derek. I'm happy for…" But at that, she trailed off, the meaning swallowed up by a small moan. Her lips were trembling too much to form words, and Addison leaned forward, burying her face in her hands as she burst into tears.

"You don't have to be happy for me," he said quietly, his hand hovering uncertainly in the air. "It's okay. It's okay, Addie." But the words felt devoid of comfort, and he shook his head as he stared at her, the ragged gasping sound of her crying filling the room. She said something in response, but she was drowning her own voice out, and her words were nothing save another thin strangled moan. Unable to merely watch her anymore, Derek lost the hesitancy that had taken over his hands, and pulled her back into his arms. She didn't protest this time, but simply slumped against his chest; hating that she was crying, yet unable to stop herself. Her mind swam with old memories of crying in Derek's arms as the strength of his body soothed her, but the recollections came in disjointed bursts, and were all painfully at odds with her present reality. Now, the familiar sensation of his hand running up and down the length of her back only served to double her tears. However, she clung to him still, listening desperately to the low murmur of his voice. And Derek didn't loosen his hold on her as she cried, but kept her pressed close to him, trying to appease her with a hundred apologies that they both knew couldn't truly fix anything.

Time lost all meaning as Addison spilled every last tear that she had been holding back. But finally, she had drained herself dry. She lay there exhausted, sniffling quietly as her damp forehead rested against Derek's chest. With a deep steadying breath, she forced herself to sit back up and separate herself from him. She smiled awkwardly, raising a hand to dry her eyes. Her expression contorted into a frown as she pulled her hand away to find her fingertips blackened by the ruined remnants of her mascara. Wordlessly, Derek turned and grabbed a tissue from the box by their bed, holding it out to her.

"Thanks," she mumbled as she accepted it, doing her best to fix her makeup without a mirror. She supposed it didn't really matter now, anyway. Derek just watched her with a soft smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes. They remained dark and troubled, and he found himself dreading the moment in which she would stop drying her tears, and look back at him, expecting him to speak. It came all too soon; the tissue falling away from her face as she twisted it into a tight shredded knot. They let the silence linger on for a moment, their eyes once again locking. But finally, Addison gave a slight nod of her head, prompting him to continue.

Derek cleared his throat, letting his head fall forward to rest in his hands. "It's… I've…" he began uncertainly, still searching even as he spoke. "I've been avoiding this," he admitted at last, his voice coming out low and ashamed. "I've been avoiding this because I didn't know how to say it." He lifted his head again to look at Addison. She had moved back further onto the bed, her knees curled close to her chest as she stared at him through vacant eyes, her expression giving nothing away. Derek groaned and found himself getting to his feet. He paced back and forth in the small space in front of the bed, once again running his hand through his hair. The ends were standing up wildly, and the light in his eyes seemed equally on edge. "I still don't know how," he continued, his voice plummeting to a whisper as he stopped pacing and simply stood there, staring at his wife. "I don't want to hurt you, Addie…but I know I already have. And, there's no easy way to explain this. There's nothing I…"

"Derek…" Addison spoke softly as well, but her voice was louder than his, and it cut him off completely. She glanced down to where her hands gripped her knees, her fingernails digging into her flesh out of an unconscious need to feel something beyond the broken throbbing of her heart. She bit her lip as she stared at her rings--still shining perfectly--steeling herself to speak. "Just say it," she continued at last; her words coming out as a plea to pull them away from the pain that was currently filling them. "I'm not stupid. We both know what you want, so just…say it, Derek."

Her words were met with silence as Derek nodded his head. Even given explicit permission, the act of actually speaking felt close to insurmountable. Addison was still staring at him, now with a quiet expectancy, forcing him to find his voice. Derek closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as he did. The air felt stale running past his lips and filling his throat, but he swallowed the complaint as he found her eyes once more. "I want a divorce," he said quietly, his hands burying deeply in his pockets. His voice trembled as he stared warily at Addison, but she didn't flinch. Her expression remained stony--lacking even the slightest hint of life or movement. "I…" he continued, his voice growing heavy. "I want to be with Meredith and the baby. I need to be with them."

She could tell he was watching her expectantly, and so Addison forced her head to move in a slight nod--a simple display of comprehension. The words were hanging heavily in the room, and filling her completely. Even though she had been expecting him to say just that, it did nothing to make it less painful. The truth came with hard blunt edges, undeniable bullets that hurt on every syllable. "You want a divorce," she echoed at last. It felt ugly to even say the words, but somehow she managed. She was secretly grateful that her voice had chosen that moment to strengthen, and that she was able to do something beyond once again dancing the border of tears. But Derek nodded his head in response, and her sudden strength disappeared as quickly as she had found it. Addison leaned forward, pressing her face against her knees. "Okay," she agreed in a small voice.

"Addison," he said softly, coaxing her to look up. She refused, and kept her face buried against the deep red fabric of her skirt. She couldn't look up. She couldn't look at him. It was taking all of her willpower to not cry when she had nothing to concentrate on beyond the vague discomfort that came from pressing her forehead hard against her knees. If she met his eyes in that moment, she would fall back into tears. It didn't matter how desperately she wanted to avoid it. She was his wife… If anyone was giving him children, it was supposed to be her. But even as that thought plagued her, Addison reminded herself that she wasn't his wife anymore. At least, not for much longer. And so she simply sat huddled into a ball, searching desperately to find a way to act okay. "Addie," tried Derek again, his voice tentative as he crossed back over to the bed. With the words finally spoken, he felt as if some of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he now knew nothing but concern for the crumpled woman in front of him. However, his request had forced them apart, and he found himself brimming with boundless uncertainty. Staring at her helplessly, Derek layed a tentative hand on her shoulder. She trembled noticeably at his touch, and Derek shook his head, yearning for a way to make this hurt her less, so that it no longer seemed as if he were ripping her apart. But his hand had rested on her shoulder for barely an instant before Addison flew away as if he had burned her.

She scooted forward without explanation, climbing down from the bed and kicking off her heels as she strode the few steps into their small kitchen. Derek watched her as she opened cabinets--apparently at random--peering up into the dark space of the shelves above her. "What are you doing?" he finally called as she hoisted herself up onto the counter; long arm stretching fully to grasp a bottle resting on the very back of the top shelf. Her fingers wrapped around the cool glass, and she slid down to the ground in one fluid motion.

"Having a drink," she said simply. Addison didn't look at him, didn't even bother with fetching a glass. She just raised the bottle to her lips, tipping her head back slightly as she poured the scotch straight into her mouth, letting it burn a trail down her throat. "My marriage is over," she muttered as she straightened up and wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. "I'm having a drink." She took another long pull from the bottle, grimacing at the taste this time. After a moment, she set it absently down on the counter, not bothering to recap it. She turned back towards Derek, staggering slightly from the sudden rush of alcohol. But she soon steadied herself, and strode back towards him. The brief interlude in the kitchen seemed to have strengthened her somehow; she no longer looked so completely crumpled as she stood in front of him.

"Addison?" he questioned as she folded her arms over her chest, surveying him with a look that fell just shy of a glare.

"Would this be happening if she weren't pregnant?" she asked by way of reply. There was something both accusing and demanding to her question, and, this time, it was Derek who looked away first.

He groaned and shook his head. "Addison, she is pregnant. There's no way to know…it is what it is." His reply was meant to soothe her and keep her away from what he was starting to realize as the truth, however, it simply angered her. Her pale blue eyes turned dark and frustrated, and she shook her head, her voice rising.

"No, there is a way to know," she snapped. "Don't give me that crap, Derek. After everything you've done, just…don't. If there were no baby…?" She shook her head, staring straight into him until he finally complied and raised his eyes to meet hers. "Are you leaving for the child, or are you leaving for her?"

He spoke before he fully realized his lips were moving; the answer coming simply and easily when goaded, blossoming into something undeniable. "For her." Addison's breath was a sharp hiss that whistled past her lips, and she blinked at him, unable to come up with any sort of reply. Derek shrugged and shook his head, doing his best to find an explanation to give her. "It would be different. I know it would be different if she weren't pregnant, but it would also be the same. Maybe it would've taken longer, maybe…" He trailed off, shrugging once again. She was nodding her head, her lips drawn into a thin line. Part of her didn't want to listen, didn't want to hear him talk about Meredith. But the other half of her was paying careful attention. Whether she hoped to find solace in his words, or she simply thought the night wouldn't be complete without him placing one last barb in her heart, she didn't know. All she knew was that she had asked, had pressed the issue, and was now listening with rapt attention even as she tried to ignore the way his eyes were lighting up. "I don't know," continued Derek quietly, running his hand through his hair once more. "It would've happened eventually though. In some way… Addison, I just know that I love her. I fell in love with her, and I have no idea how I'd even start…falling out."

She nodded, looking away and forcing herself to just breathe, to not care that her husband loved another woman. Despite the fact that she had seen the way they looked at each other, had seen them together when Meredith was sick, it was a whole other reality to hear the words spoken aloud. "Fair enough," she managed at last, her voice once again failing her as it turned into a small thin shadow of its normal tone. She frowned and pushed her hair out of her face, wishing she had the energy to be angry. It would be easier, to pick things up and hurl them about wildly, only narrowly missing his head. To let her pain out in the sound of an anguished scream. A wry smile flickered at the corners of her mouth as she thought of how easy it would be to scream if the due date were just a month or so later than it was. Screaming would come naturally. While it would hurt in an entirely different sort of way, at least then she could be angry. She could hate her husband, and use her outrage to walk away relatively unscathed. But Addison could count, and had, finding that the days ticked clearly back past her arrival in Seattle. In a way, being robbed of the ability to hate either Derek or Meredith, she felt left with only herself to blame. And so Addison couldn't find it in herself to yell. She could only stand there--feeling like a bitter broken shell of herself--and utterly unable to think of anything to say.

Finally, Derek broke the silence. Reaching out for her hand, he pulled her forward easily to sit beside him on the bed. "I'm gonna miss you, Addie," he said quietly.

"No, you're not," she replied, the broken sound of her laughter once again filling the air. "You'll have Meredith, and soon, you'll have your baby too."

"I know," he agreed, his eyes lighting up again at the mention of them. But, after a moment, he shook his head; wanting her to see that the past eleven years hadn't simply become meaningless to him. "I know, but that doesn't mean I can't miss…" He trailed off, searching her face for a sign of understanding.

And she gave it to him as she nodded, finishing his sentence for him. "What we used to have."

He nodded his head, smiling at the memory of the way they were before. "Yeah…"

Addison sighed as she thought back over how long it had truly been since they'd been the them that was worth missing and worth remembering. If she pushed back the fine layer of denial that had hung over her marriage, the fact that it had been years was glaringly obvious. "Derek," she said at last, her voice filled with muted grief. "That's been gone for a long time. We've never been able to get it back. And even if we could…it wouldn't fit anymore. We've changed too much."

"We have," he agreed quietly. Derek scooted back on the bed as he spoke, turning so that he was facing her. Even though he smiled, his eyes were unmistakably sad, and he reached out, gathering both of her hands in his. "You're still as amazing as always though," he continued as she instinctively rolled her eyes and looked away. But Derek pressed on; squeezing her hands tightly as his voice swelled with awe and gratitude. "You saved my child." Addison simply stared resolutely at the wall, and so he leaned forward--two fingers pressing against her chin to direct her gaze back towards him. "Addison…" he implored as she started to close her eyes. With a resigned sigh, she let them flutter back open, pale blue orbs fixating on his familiar face. "I can't ever thank you enough for taking care of them," he continued earnestly, wanting her to understand just how much what she had done meant to him.

But Addison just shrugged and shook her head. "My job, Derek," she said tightly.

"I know," he agreed, suddenly sensing that the topic of being Meredith's doctor was even harder for her than he had expected. "I know," he soothed. "But it's not…it wasn't fair." She nodded slightly at that; his acknowledgement of what she'd been feeling helping a little to soothe the hurt. Derek squeezed her hand even tighter, his thumb grazing gently along the lines of her palm, as he added, "And, I'm sorry."

Addison nodded again, looking away. However, after a moment, her eyes flickered back to his face, deciding to use the opening he'd created to broach the issue of Meredith and her pregnancy. "Um…" she began cautiously, and Derek gave an attentive nod of his head. "After Meredith… After she's discharged, she needs to switch from her doctor to a specialist…just in case." Derek nodded again as Addison's voice quickly escalated from its relatively calm beginnings into something that sounded close to frantic. "But, it can't be me, Derek," she said, shaking her head sharply. "It just…it can't. I'm sorry, but I can't be the one to deliver that baby…"

"Okay," he agreed immediately, rather surprised that she seemed to think he'd suggest putting her through that if he had other options. "Okay," he repeated. "We'll go to…" But Addison spoke up again, unsure of what to say, but suddenly finding silence painful.

"I guess I should, we…one of us should call the lawyer's tomorrow." For a moment, Derek simply blinked in astonishment over the sudden change in topics. But that soon faded into an unimportant fact as he realized that she was trembling again, her voice a small stammered sound.

"I'll do it," he volunteered instantly, but Addison continued to talk uncertainly about settlements and the division of who they'd been. She desperately wanted to stop; she was barely conscious of the words coming out of her mouth anyway. But, she knew if she did, they would finally be at the end. Everything had been said, and they would be over. And she wasn't sure how she was going to handle that. A large portion of her felt numb, but there was one small remaining sliver within her that was filled with life. She was struggling desperately to repress it because that sliver yearned to burst into a fit of tears that begged Derek to stay. She wasn't sure how she was going to live without him. To live finally, completely without him for the rest of her life. And that small sliver of herself that she hadn't yet managed to seal shut was terrified of even trying. It was begging her to cry and cling to Derek, to find a way to make him stay. But, Addison refused to let herself be that weak--to spill all that she had left out on the table. There was no point in trying. The numb part of her, the part of her that wasn't brimming with desperation knew that, even if she did, it wouldn't be enough. Derek wouldn't stay, and she knew that no part of her--the numb or the living--could handle such a final blatant rejection. And so Addison kept talking; fighting with herself through a string of garbled sentences about boxes of their stuff that still remained in New York.

"It's okay Addie," said Derek at last, his voice firm, almost commanding. She fell silent at the sound, blinking helplessly as she stared at him. "You're going to be okay," he continued with the same conviction he had used when he stated his love for Meredith. "You are."

Addison just shook her head, suddenly sighing. "We're not Derek and Addison anymore," she said shakily. Somehow, those words blended everything she had been repressing into a single strand and gave it voice. Derek's eyes locked with hers in a moment of understanding, and he leaned forward, his forehead coming to rest against hers.

"I know," he breathed softly, raising his hand to her cheek as he pulled back to look at her.

Her voice was small and sad. "But you'll be happy."

"So will you," he replied fiercely; as if he had a bottomless well of confidence in her. And, in the back of her mind, Addison found herself believing him.

Silence loomed once more as they stared at each other; both realizing that they stood toe to toe with the end of them. And they stared at each other for a long time before leaning forward, their lips coming to meet in the middle of the space between them. Their last kiss was soft and bittersweet; devoid of the passion that used to have them kissing with open mouths, teeth scraping for something to pull on as their tongues wrestled for dominance. Now, there was only something final, something sad to mark the ending of the dream that they had shared when they were young. They tasted each other for the last time with dying slowness, and finally pulled away.

And as they looked at each other, exchanging faded remnants of a smile, the word came simultaneously to their lips.

"Goodbye."

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So…Derek and Addison are over. They are finally, finally over. And it was hard and painful for them to end their marriage because, even though Derek wants desperately to be with Meredith, he's ending his marriage without the additional time he spent in it on the show, and he's doing so without the added catalyst of prom. And, his wife just saved his child and took care of Meredith. He feels terribly in her debt, and so he doesn't know how to just come out and say it. It's difficult for him, and he doesn't want to hurt Addison because there was a time when he loved her very much. And, he still cares for her a lot, but it's no longer what they used to have, and it's no longer something that they can save. And so, he finally tells her that he wants a divorce.

And Addison, well…it's not exactly what she wanted to hear. She moved across the country to save her marriage because, despite everything that's happened, she still loves him. But, instead of repairing what they had, she gets to watch him start a family with the woman who effectively stole his heart and killed all chances of getting him back. And, that's hard. She runs through a whole host of emotions that she'd been bottling up over the past few days. Even while that's painful, it's something that she needs to get out to have the hope of moving on. And, in the end, it serves to bring her the first bare hint of closure.

But yeah, this chapter was very much their ending. Which, while sad, is a good thing. If you like Mer/Der…which I kinda assume you do, if you're reading a story about them. Heh… Anyway, thank you so much for reading!