Okay, so I have to admit that this is probably my most favorite chapter of the entire story. The first suggested song, 'Unintended' by Muse is actually the inspiration for this entire fic. So if you want any hints about what shall come to pass, that's about the best I can do. The outfits that I have them in are the ones from the EW photoshoot from this year. I love those! Oh, and the restaurant is described as exactly how it is in real life. Tres romantic!
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Suggested Soundtrack: 'Unintended' by Muse
You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You could be the one I'll always love
You could be the one who listens to my deepest inquisitions
You could be the one I'll always love
Meredith stands before the mirror in the bathroom trying to primp as much as possible. She has only the small make-up case and the simple hair brush that she had been able to carry in her purse. She has only been able to wash her hair with the hotel shampoo and conditioner samples, but for some reason it has decided to cooperate and now lays in wavy folds down her neck. She looks into the mirror and sees the happy glow that suffuses the features of a woman that has spent the afternoon love-making. After the shower, they had moved out into the bedroom to continue what they had started. For some reason, a ferocity burned between them. Maybe they had both realized at the same time that their time was coming to a close. Maybe the warm rays and the tangy salty air had coalesced into a potent aphrodisiac. She didn't know. All she knew was that the last couple of hours had been ecstasy.
The mirror shows her an image of a woman in love: skin glowing, eyes ablaze with happiness, a smile that just won't go away. A woman in love. Shit. Suddenly the corners of her mouth lose their happy lift and the twinkle in her eyes fades to horrified awareness. What has she done? Fallen in love with a pretty-much-already-married man? This is horrifying, she thinks as she leans on the bathroom sink and tries to draw in as much air as possible. And then she hears a knock on the door. She peaks around the corner to see Derek opening the door. The resort driver stands there holding up two garment bags high above his head. Derek hands him some Euros, takes the bags, and she scurries back around the corner before he can see her.
Derek takes the two garment bags and throws them across the bed. He was certainly glad he had made this decision this morning. He had wanted their last night together to be special. He had wanted it to be something they could look back at and savor. But now, all he can think about is that maybe this is the beginning rather than the end. Maybe this was how it is supposed to be. He loved her. He loved her more than he could remember loving anyone. God, he must have fallen for her that very first moment. Why had it taken him this long to figure this out? He knew why, but he wasn't going to say it out loud. Something to do with an event he was supposed to be at on Sunday. Something that had totally become unacceptable the moment three little words had popped into his mind. How was he supposed to pledge to honor and cherish and love someone else with what he felt for the beautiful creature that was getting ready just on the other side of the wall? He thought he had loved Addie. He knows he has to go to Villa D'este and call it all off. He cringes at the thought. It really isn't fair to his family. It really isn't fair to everyone that has taken such pains to make everything just perfect. It really isn't fair to Addie. But would it be more fair to go through with a love-less marriage because of a promise he had made to his father. Because of what he now realizes was a lack of awareness of what love really felt like?
I'll be there as soon as I can
But I'm busy mending broken pieces of the life I had before
First there was the one who challenged
All my dreams and all my balance
She could never be as good as you
This was supposed to be the wedding of the year. Caterers and decorators and florists and hordes of workers have been setting up all week to create a fairy tale land in the world-famous gardens. He thanks his lucky stars that he happened to be sunbathing at that particular spot on that particular morning. Because it wouldn't have been a fairy tale. It would have been a sham. Would he have gotten married on Sunday, and never really known what love was? Would he have gotten married, had a couple of kids, and thought he was happy? He shudders at the thought. But now he doesn't have to. Now he has Meredith. Now he has a shot at real happiness. If only he can get her to agree.
You could be my unintended
Choice to live my life extended
You should be the one I'll always love
He pulls the pale peach chiffon couture dress out of the garment bag and walks toward the bathroom.
"So what are you going to wear tonight?" He teasingly asks as he walks up to the door, knowing she only has the one summer dress. Or she thinks she does.
"You know I only have…" She gets out before she sees him walk into the doorway in only his khaki slacks.
Her breath stops when she sees the elegantly flowing dress in his hand. It is a simple flowing design that starts with a ring of fabric around the neck and flows down in front and back to meet up far below the arm. It is simple, it is elegant, and it is the most beautiful dress she has ever seen.
"So if the bathing suit was for keeping you company, what's that for?" Meredith teases as she leans against the sink and crosses her arms in fake anger.
He doesn't answer. He only comes forward and drops the dress over her head, places a kiss along her temple, and says, "For being you."
There's nothing she can say to that, so she just removes the dress from her neck and starts taking it off the hanger. She removes her worn summer dress and reverently slides the cool chiffon over her body. The dress barely touches her. It just gently glides down to rest in all the right places. Just as it comes to rest, Derek comes back into the doorway wearing a white collared button-down dress shirt and navy blue blazer that draws out the blueness of his eyes. He stops dead in his tracks.
"Are you ready to go?" He asks her as he stares at her in awe.
"Yep." She answers back shortly, glowing at his obvious approval.
"Good." He answers, and they step out to enjoy their evening.
Meredith and Derek sit in the resort's restaurant. A wonderfully huge outdoor patio really with a brick floor and thatched ceiling, all held up by winding trees that twist their way up through the thatch and into the sky. Small square tables are spaced in long rows on either side of the trees. All give rise to a perfect view of the beach and sea sparkling not 500 ft away. It is dark now though, and the sea is only a hazy moving darkness somewhere beyond the patio. And other than a few lamp lights hanging from the ceiling, the only light is from white twinkle lights wrapped around the patio trees.
They have just finished a wonderful dinner of local delicacies: an appetizer of steamed muscles, salads, and a main course of half-shell prawns. Derek had laughed at the way Meredith had tried to delicately extract the small piece of mussel from the hard shell with the least amount of touching possible. Meredith had teased Derek about picking out every tiny piece of onion from his apparently onion-encrusted salad (she only had a few slices herself). They had both groaned in ecstasy at the butter-drenched prawns and were now sighing over a shared piece of chocolate cake.
"Just hog all the chocolate sauce, why don't you?" Meredith teases as Derek spreads his piece around the tiny plate to sop up as much chocolate sauce as possible.
"Well you ate all of the whip cream." Derek qualifies as he puts the entire bit in his mouth and chews.
"But it was on my section." She argues back as she steals another bit of the chocolately goodness.
"Oh, you mean the entire back half of the cake?" He asks, the whip cream having been dolloped right in the middle of the back part of the slice.
"Yes. Your half is the part facing you, and my half is the part facing me." She explains, as if to a simpleton.
He looks down at the plate, to see that the pointy end is pointing toward him. "But my half is smaller than yours." He remarks despondently.
"Which is why you got the chocolate sauce." She argues back logically. Or maybe semi-logically.
"But you just said…!" He starts to argue, but then she starts to giggle. And then he just can't help giggling too at the absurdity of their conversation. Should he ask her now? They've just shared a really wonderful dinner. She's all happy. He's all happy. Maybe he'll just take another sip of wine first. Maybe if he sips enough wine, the words will magically appear in his brain. How do you tell a woman you've only know for a week that you're pretty sure you've never been this happy in your life, and by the way, I don't think I can get married on Sunday after all?
He picks up his wine glass and takes a very long and slow sip, sets it down, and starts to say, "Meredith…"
She looks up at the strange tone in his voice, but he is interrupted by a man coming to the table and asking, "il sig. e la sig.ra gradirebbero un'immagine?"
"Oh no, that's okay." Derek immediately responds, just wanting to wave the guy away so he can say what he wants to say.
"No, wait." Meredith calls after the guy when he starts to walk away. She turns to Derek and pleads with her eyes. Derek just smiles at her with fondness and waits for the photographer to come back.
He seriously doesn't want a picture? She hadn't even thought of getting a picture of the two of them together. It seems kind of stupid and pathetic even to her own mind, but maybe she could pull out the photograph years from now and smile at the fond memories. Her fond memories of Derek. Because after tomorrow, that's all she's going to have left of him: memories. And now maybe this picture.
"Ah, the bella wants a picture?" The photographer says with a wink. "You scoot close together, and I take picture." He orders in broken English, waving his hand around in emphasis.
They move their chairs closer together, Meredith putting her arm around his lower back and Derek pulling her to him with an arm across her shoulders. They both smile in utter happiness and the photographer clicks away.
"Okay, that was formal one. Now you kiss." The photographer orders jokingly.
Meredith turns to Derek and asks him non-verbally if it's okay, and he just laughingly shrugs his shoulders in agreement. He lovingly takes her face in his hands and places a gentle kiss on her lips. They both hear the click of the camera and reluctantly pull away.
They both silently laugh at their behavior, but are interrupted by the photographer asking, "I drop off at front desk in morning, yes?"
"Um….can we have two copies?" Meredith asks, hating to say it, but having to.
"Certainly. What the bella wants, the bella gets." The photographer agrees, writing it down in his little booklet.
"Thank you." Derek responds, the tone of his voice dismissing the man before them. The man bows his appreciation and sets off for the next table.
"Now." He says, turning to Meredith and taking her hand in his. What could be a better time and place? The cool gentle breeze of the ocean on their backs, the low twinkly lighting of the restaurant.
"Now." Meredith repeats. Why is he looking at her like that? Why does he have to look at her like that? How is she supposed to go home and go on with her life with that smile and those eyes etched into her brain? If she had to say when she first fell in love with him, it would have to be the moment he had first flashed her that smile.
"Meredith…" He tries again, but is interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the middle of the restaurant.
"Ladies and gentleman, the Hotel Club Torre Capovento invites all of its guests to an evening of dancing." The gentleman says with a flourish and points toward a space immediately outside the restaurant patio. A switch is flipped and the area directly between the restaurant and the beach is lit with green, red, and orange lights. Many more twinkle lights are wrapped around trees and verandas, giving off an enchanted vibe. There's even a little raised patio where a man sits at a piano. And as they watch, he starts to play, "Don't Explain" by Herbie Hancock: a slow melodious song that is sad but beautiful. Everyone in the restaurant gasps in delight and claps.
Meredith claps right along with everyone, and turns to Derek with glee and says, "Can we dance? Can we?"
He was going to tell her about his change of plans, but it can wait. The child-like excitement on her face is all it takes for him to do whatever she wants. "Sure." He agrees, and takes her hand to lead her over to the designated dance-floor.
Other couples join them, but it is if no one else in the world exists. Meredith puts her hands on either side of his neck and leans her cheek against his chest. He puts his hands around her back and they stand there hardly moving, slowly swaying on the dance floor. Other couples swirl around in practiced dances, arms-lengths apart and beautiful in their choreography, but Meredith feels safe and warm and happy just swaying up against him.
The music changes and song after song makes its way from the piano man's fingers to the keyboard, but Meredith and Derek stay locked together in form. Meredith holds on to the moment, holds on to him, trying to imprint every last moment onto her memory. Cherishing the feel of him pressed against her. Derek lies caught in the moment, holding on to her in case it is their last too. There's no guarantee she's going to agree to what he is going to say. All she had agreed to was spending this last day with him. She has a life; she maybe has a boyfriend to go home to.
He finally, after what seems like hours, gathers his courage together and asks, "Would you like to go for a walk on the beach?"
"Sure." She answers softly, and they turn to head out between the trees and on toward the beach proper.
They walk in silence until they reach the water. "Thank you for coming with me. To Sperlonga, I mean." He sputters out nervously, taking her hand at the same time.
"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to come." She answers back shyly.
"But with everything…." He begins, but she cuts him off.
"I don't want to talk about that. Please?" She pleads, trying not to ruin this perfect evening, and perfect day, with talk of THAT.
"Alright, but I do have something I want to talk to you about." He tells her, letting it go for the time being. They've still got time.
They walk down the beach in the moonlit night, holding hands and enjoying the peaceful rhythmic crashing of the waves. They walk a ways down the beach, silent in their shared joy. At one point they mutually decide to turn around, and head back the way they've come.
"It's just so beautiful here. I can't believe that no one knows about this place." Meredith says, finally breaking the silence.
"Oh, the Italians want to keep it all to themselves. They won't tell any atrocious Americans about it." Derek teases.
"Am I an atrocious American?" Meredith says in fake-hurt.
"No, you're my bellezza di sonno." He responds teasingly.
"Wait, didn't you say that in your letter too? What does that mean?" She asks, putting the pieces together.
"Not telling." He jokes, the amusement evident in his eyes.
"You are so telling." She orders as she leans over to tickle him in the side.
He runs away a few steps, jaunting out of arms length. She chases after him, so he runs even further up. He comes upon the first of the resort's chairs and thinks that it's the perfect place to ask her. It's outside, it's private, and it's romantic. He comes to a stop and she barrels into him.
"Hey, come sit with me." He asks her, already sitting down in the lounge chair and putting out his arms in invitation.
"But it's dirty. What about my dress?" She says, looking down to pat the fabric lovingly.
"That's what dry cleaning is for. Come on." He orders impatiently, not having been one to ever have to worry about money and all that goes with it.
She reluctantly sits, lies down between his legs, and rests her head back against his chest. He brushes her hair out of her face and they both stare up at the twinkly sky.
"This is nice." She remarks, leaning back to relax even more in his arms.
"Mmm." He agrees non-commitally as he continues to run a hand gently over her hair.
"After an indefinite amount of time, Meredith asks with a yawn, "So what did you want to talk to me about?"
Derek doesn't answer right away. He continues to gently slide his hand repetitively over her hair, and try to think of where to begin.
"Meredith…this has been the most wonderful week." He starts.
"Mhmm." She agrees softly, turning slightly to cuddle up even further into his chest, her left side and right palm now resting against him.
"I never thought it could ever be like this." He admits. He doesn't hear an answer, but he is so caught up in saying what he has to say, that he doesn't notice. "Meredith, I think I love you."
Silence.
Why didn't she say anything? He slightly panics, until he looks down to find her fast asleep, curled up into a little ball of contentment.
"Ah, me bellezza di sonno. I will wake you with a kiss in the morning."