The hospital seemed emptier without the mass of interns that usually frequented the hallways at all hours. The soon-to-be residents with interns of their own had now been off for a week, giving the hospital one more week to prepare for the shock of the returning residents plus the new batch of interns. However, just because there were fewer doctors around, didn't mean there were any fewer patients demanding treatment, and without interns to do the grunt work, Derek had found himself surprisingly busy. Something many of the other Attendings, namely Mark, complained about, but which Derek was quite happy about. It kept his mind off things. Namely Meredith.

However, he was in a relatively good mood today, having returned home the night before to have Izzy hand him a postcard. It had been from Meredith. And it had been addressed to him. At her address. Meredith had sent one to Alex and Izzy as well, but it hadn't made his any less special. It was the fact that she had sent it to her own address, knowing he would be there to get it. For the first time in six days, he had fallen asleep happy, instead of exhausted and depressed, the card safely on the table beside him. It had, in all effect, become his lifeline over the past twenty-four hours, pulling him out of the hole of depression he seemed to be wallowing in. His exhaustion and stress had made things seem worse than they actually were. Because one week down, and things were still okay. Only one week left. And he had a postcard, which had now taken up residence on the bulletin board in his office.

Having checked his post-op patients, he headed to his office to finish some paperwork, sighing as he passed the now vacant office, still boasting the Head of Cardiovascular Surgery plaque, but lacking the name plate that once sat underneath it. The day after the girls had left, Derek had walked in the front doors of the hospital, surprised to see Burke, clad in street clothes, box in hand, exiting. One glance at the older man's face, and Derek knew this would be the last time Burke left Seattle Grace. Having given his notice and emptied his office, he was taking the last load to his car. Preston had bid a short goodbye to his friend, only pausing to make Derek promise to tell Cristina himself about his leaving. And then he was gone.

Derek sighed heavily and got to work. It was over an hour later that he heard a knock at his door, raising his head to find his ex-wife standing in the doorway.

000

"Hey," Addison said as Derek looked up from his work. "Sorry to bother you, but do you have a minute?"

Derek dropped his pen. "Sure, you need a consult?" He made to get up.

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. It's just...I leave tomorrow and I feel like I really need to talk to you before I go."

He sat back, regarding her warily, obviously unsure of her intentions. However, he nodded and motioned for her to take the chair opposite his desk.

She smiled thankfully and took her seat, shaking her head slightly at the sheer difference in his office, compared to the one in New York. The old one had been larger, sleeker, much more modern. She should know. She had decorated it herself. The furniture had been fancy, a custom matched set, built for style not comfort. The shelves had been stacked neatly with organized sections for texts, journals and records. She had arranged an array of pictures along the wall, all in matching frames of course. His many degrees had been arranged prominently along the most visible wall, lined up chronologically, all perfectly level.

This new office was smaller, but much more inviting. The furniture didn't match, but was comfortable, from the old, oak desk to the large, off coloured couch at the back. The shelves were mis-matched, and held piles of textbooks here and journals there. A filing cabinet sat in the back, two drawers open, one more than the other. The wall was a light shade of blue, and the only decorative thing on the wall was an old frayed picture of a neuron, one commonly given away at medical conferences. Derek had probably inherited it with the office. Only his med school diploma hung on the wall, beside the desk, most likely on a pre-existing nail. There were only two picture frames in the room. One sat on top of a text book on the shelves behind Derek. She recognized it as an old picture of his family, taken years ago, when Derek was still in high school. The other, smaller, picture frame sat on his desk, facing him, so she could only see the back. However, she was pretty sure she knew what it held. And the bulletin board, on the wall beside his desk, had a postcard of a breathtaking coastline, pinned prominently above the mass of notes and reminders. And she didn't have to guess who it was from.

"So, uh, this is usually the part where you start talking," Derek prompted gently, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Right, sorry. I was just noticing your office."

He raised an eyebrow. "You've seen it before," he said, but turned around in his chair, as if to see if anything big had changed and he hadn't noticed.

She smiled and shook her head when he was facing her again, eyebrow raised. "I know, it's just... I guess I never noticed it before. I never noticed you before. You're comfortable here. I thought you had changed, but really you finally gave up pretending, didn't you?"

His face was passive, but she knew she had made the right deduction.

"I'm sorry I forced you to be someone you weren't, Derek. I see how happy you are here... how different you are... and it makes me wonder just how miserable you were in New York."

"Hey," he cut in. "I wasn't miserable. You didn't make me miserable. I don't think I even realized how much I needed to get away from that lifestyle. It wasn't your fault, Addy."

She smiled. He really was a good guy. Some things would never change.

"I'm glad you're happy now Derek. I'm glad you're figuring out who you really are."

"You too," he said. "L.A. will be good for you."

She smiled. "I know it will. I'm looking forward to it, actually."

"Good."

"Yeah, and I leave soon, which is why I needed to talk to you."

He nodded. "You already said that."

"I know. I'm just gearing myself up." She sighed and took a breath. "I really did love you, Derek. When we got married, there wasn't a doubt in my mind. And I can't even pinpoint where we went wrong along the way, but we did."

Derek nodded. "Me too."

"And I knew we were drifting. I knew I was losing you, but I couldn't fix it. I felt so helpless, but now I realize why I couldn't fix it. We didn't belong together anymore, Derek. We really didn't. I was out dragging you to fundraisers and charity events all the time, trying to make you into something you're not. We were fine in med school, when everyone lives in the same sort of housing and eats the same food and doesn't have time for anything but school. But we graduated and we got successful and started making money, and I was ecstatic, but you... you were happy without the money, weren't you?" She already knew the answer, so continued before he could answer. "You became a doctor to become a doctor, end of story. You don't want the fancy dinners, and the huge houses. You want to help people, and live comfortably. And you need to do that with someone who wants the same things as you."

"Addison-." He tried, but she cut him off.

"I'm so sorry, Derek, that I almost ruined your chance at happiness. I should have just let you go, let you be happy. But I couldn't. I was still living in the dream of the perfect life. I knew you made the wrong decision, Derek. I knew you would rather be with her, but would stay with me out of obligation. But I let it happen anyway. I let it continue. I guess I just hoped that you would... change your mind or something. Then you two got back together, and I was hurt, and I felt stupid. And it wasn't until the day of the ferry crash that I realized.

"You never felt that way about me, Derek. We never had that. She, Meredith, is what you need. It wasn't an affair, it wasn't revenge," she said, finally agreeing with what he had voiced so many months ago. "You really did find the right person to be with. The person who will let you be you. And I almost took that away from you. So, Derek, I am truly sorry."

He stayed silent for several seconds, obviously digesting everything she had told him. "Thank-you," he finally spoke. Open. Honest. "But, Addy, it wasn't all your fault. I made the decision."

She nodded. "I know, and thank-you for giving me the chance to make us work, Derek. Now there are no regrets, now what ifs."

He nodded his agreement.

She smiled. "She's good for you, Derek. As much as I tried, I've never been able to hate her. She obviously loves you, and she's young, but she doesn't back down, does she?" Addison almost laughed. "She'll keep you in line, but she'll let you be you. I really am happy for you."

"Thanks."

Addison smiled, choosing not to comment on how the light was suddenly reflecting more off his eyes. "I need you to promise me you're going to make it work," she said. "Whatever has been on your mind, you need to tell her."

He looked at her in surprise and she rolled her eyes. "Derek, we were married for eleven years. I can still tell when something is bothering you."

He smiled at her. "Oh."

"You deserve to be happy, Derek. Let her in."

He nodded. "I will."

"Good."

He cleared his throat. "So, why are you telling me this?"

She sighed. "Because, I need to get it out of the way before I tell you what I have to tell you next and you never want to talk to me again."

"Oh, god..." He sat up a little straighter, preparing for a blow.

"Derek, I am so sorry about Mark. I know our marriage was rocky, but there was no excuse for what I did. And, funnily enough, you know what kills me the most? Not only did I kill a marriage, but I killed a lifelong friendship." She paused, noting Derek's expression. He was obviously somewhat uncomfortable with the subject, but was going to let her speak her peace.

"I can't blame it on anything," Addison continued. "We weren't drunk. He was just there, and we were talking on the couch. And then..." she trailed off, taking a moment to collect herself. "You need to know that I started it. I initiated it. I kissed him. And then, suddenly, we were in bed, and you were there, and..." She stopped explaining. They both knew what happened next.

"After you left, I moved in with him." She had already told him this, but she still felt the need to explain it. "We lived together for months. I tried to convince myself that I hadn't thrown away my marriage on a fling. And Mark... he kept fighting for me, even after you and I were back together, but Derek, it was the same thing for him, really. But he stood to lose so much more. He lost his best friend, his only family. And you know Mark's emotional level..." She rolled her eyes. "He needed this to mean something. I think he's only now realizing what it was."

Derek took a deep breath. "Okay."

Addison hesitated. It was the moment of truth, but she floundered. It would be so easy to not tell him. It would be so easy to never mention. He would never learn the truth anyway. But she sighed, knowing she had to tell him. "And there's one more thing, Derek."

The tone of her voice got his attention.

She looked away, unable to meet his eyes when she told him. "I, uh, got pregnant when I was living with Mark."

She couldn't ignore the intake of breath coming from the other side of the desk, and she risked a quick glance at his shocked face before looking away again.

"It wasn't planned, and I wasn't going to tell him, but then I did, and he went out and bought this Yankee's onesie, and for a while, things were okay. But then reality hit and I realized what I was doing. Mark and I were living in a facade. Hardly the place to raise a child. So... I had an abortion, and then got a call from Richard..."

When she finally gained the courage to look back up at his face, he was motionless, expressionless, staring forward, but not looking at her. She shifted, uncomfortable, but glad she had finally gotten that off her chest, glad she had come clean and told him. He had a right to know. Even if he demanded she leave his office and never spoke to her again. Even if he never stopped hating her, he deserved to know.

When he finally focussed on her eyes, she was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze, the pain that was still there, over a year later.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He finally spoke, quiet, not giving away anything he was feeling.

"The same reason I didn't tell you about us living together. I knew you'd never pick me." She remained honest. He deserved it, after all she put him through; he deserved it.

He was silent again. It lasted so long, that she was overwhelmed with the urge to fill the silence.

"I'm sorry, Derek, I know I keep saying it, but I really am. Sorry, I mean. I really am sorry. I managed to bulldoze the life you were trying to create, and I lied and I hurt you. And I'm sorry. But you needed to know. You had a right to know. So I told you. Because I'm leaving and you needed to know." She paused, trying to gauge how badly he was reacting. She wasn't sure he had heard any of what she had just vocalized.

"You're right," he finally spoke. "If you had told me, I wouldn't have picked you. But I never asked. I never asked what you had done for the months before you came to Seattle. And we did try again. And you're right about one thing. At least now there are no regrets, no what ifs."

She held her breath. "You're not mad?"

He sighed, looking utterly defeated. "What's the point?" He shrugged. "What's done is done. It didn't work out. We're both trying to start over. I know you, Addy, I know how hard it must have been to have an abortion."

Addison's eyes filled with tears and she nodded, but stayed silent.

"It was good for a while," he said, obviously trying to brighten the mood.

She smiled. "It really was."

"But its time to move on, no pain, no regrets, no blame."

"Thank-you," she whispered.

He stood and she followed suit, meeting him beside the desk for a tight hug. She smiled as he kissed the top of her head and sighed. "Goodbye, Addison," he whispered.

She smiled and pulled away. "Goodbye, Derek." And she nodded at him, before stepping out of his office. Out of his life.

AN: So, just a side chapter. I felt that Derek and Addison needed closure, and we needed to see how Derek was doing alone for two weeks.