Happy belated Independence Day to all those who celebrate! Sorry for the delay. I was in Jamaica!

Thank you for your lovely reviews! Enjoy!

Nancy looks happy. She looks happier than I've seen in a long, long time. Everyone tosses rose petals in the air as Nancy and Matt walk down the steps of the church and into the waiting limousine. My sisters all wear bridesmaid's dresses—purple with big flowers pinned to the waist. Kathleen is the Matron of Honor and wears a slightly darker shade. They're all happy as well. Happy for Nancy. Happy that the ceremony is a success. Happy—probably happiest—that the wrath of pre-wedding Nancy is over.

The rest of the bridal party, myself included, follows behind the limo in town cars. I ride with Sophia and Brynn, who wears a pink dress. She looks so much like Sophia, it's unbelievable. Her eyes are the most brilliant blue and her dark hair falls straight along her shoulders. She is a ball of energy and nothing can pin her down—not even a seatbelt.

"Mum," she whines with just the hint of an English accent. She pulls at the buckle.

Sophia folds her hands over her daughter's, "Stop that, Bunny. We'll be there soon."

I smile, "Bunny?"

"We called her Brynny for so long, but she always thought we were saying bunny." She shrugs, "What can you do? She barely responds to anything else."

"Hey Bunny," I say. Brynn's little face turns up to me. "Do you know who I am?"

I spent time with Brynn, Sophia, and Max the night before, but Brynn was preoccupied with chasing fireflies through the back meadow, she hardly stopped once. Even when her dad scooped her up for bed, she wiggled and reached for more bugs.

Brynn buries her head into her mom's side, but nods anyway.

I touch her knee and smile. "Who am I?"

Brynn is minorly distracted by a butterfly coasting past the window, but then returns to me. "Uncle."

"Uncle who, Bunny?" Sophia prompts.

"Derek," she says with perfect clarity.

I smile wider and sweep my fingers through her hair. "She's a smart one."

Sophia squeezes her daughter tightly to her size. "It's crazy to think I was your age when I had her. I'm sure you go out every night and wake up in a different bed every morning. I was like that." Brynn blinks her heavy eyelids and yawns against Sophia's skirt. "Then reality sank in."

"It's a good reality though, right?"

She nods, "Oh yeah, for sure. I'm happy where I am now. What about you?"

"I'm happy." I can barely convince myself.

Sophia laughs without humor. "Derek, I love you, but you're a terrible liar. Something's bugging you."

Ever since I was old enough to understand, I've always consulted Sophia with all my problems. When I was six and Bradley Barker stole my Optimus Prime action figure on the playground, Sophia taught me how to steal something of his and hold it for ransom. When I was nine and I failed my first test in school, Sophia softened the blow with my parents and explained that nearly the entire class had down worse than me. When I was fourteen and caught with two cigarettes in my sock drawer, Sophia took the fall and said they were her boyfriend's. She's always been that rock for me…that person who understands me and has the ability to protect me.

I've never told Sophia anything that she found too scandalous and never has she judged me based on my decisions. Plus, she lives so far away…what damage could telling her really do?

"Who is she?"

I shake my head free of the question.

Sophia continues to stroke Brynn's hair, but she never allows herself to be distracted from her appraisal of me. "Derek, I'm sure whatever's bugging you isn't easy to talk about, but whatever it is, I'm here for you, okay?"

"It's complicated," I finally say.

She nods. "Most things in life are. Especially love."

"I'm not in love," I say abrasively.

"Maybe not," she shrugs, "but someone is affecting you."

I might not love Meredith, but I did love the feeling of kissing her. "I don't really want to get in it with you. With anyone," I correct myself. "She's gone now, so I just need to move on."

"She died?" Sophia asks.

"No, no, nothing like that. She's just moved on. She's living elsewhere."

Sophia smiles, "That's all? That doesn't seem like much of a cause to write her off."

"It's complicated," I reiterate.

"One day it won't be."

"You can't know that."

The town car pulls up in front of my parents' house. Sophia doesn't move and neither do I. "You can never know anything for sure, Derek, but if you care for someone, you'll find a way to make it work. I've never seen you so affected by someone before—you're distant and quiet. At first I thought you'd matured into that person, but I know you too well to actually believe that. This girl, whoever she is, has changed you. And even if she's moved away and moved on, I think you should find her to at least take back that part of you she's taken away."

"I don't feel like she's taken anything from me. I haven't known her long enough for her to change me."

"You're blinded. I was blinded too when I met Max. Nancy is blinded by Matt and Kath is blinded by Hank. Even Amelia is blinded by her boyfriend and they're only high school sweethearts. It doesn't matter how long you know someone, it's how well you know them."

I laugh humorlessly. Isn't that the entire problem?

Sophia takes my hand and squeezes. "You should call her. Talk to her. Try to find what she's taken from you."

"What has Max taken from you?" I ask curiously.

She smiles wide, "Everything."

I dance with my mother first. She demands my attention on the dance floor and pulls me through the crowd. I hate dancing—have ever since I fell over a table at a school dance in sixth grade. I was the laughing stock of the school for months and even now—almost ten years later—I feel myself growing red at the memory. When I do dance, I have to really love someone—and it has to be a slow song. I can sway side-to-side just as well as anyone else.

My mom smiles up at me in that 'my daughter is finally happy' way, and I can't help but grin back at her.

"How's your summer going, Derek? I feel like we haven't seen or heard from you in weeks."

"I've been busy."

"Busy partying with Mark, I'm sure."

I sigh and try not to roll my eyes. "I haven't been partying with Mark."

"Where is Mark?" she looks over my shoulder.

I nod, "He couldn't make it." I'm still bitter about my fight with Mark, but I wish I hadn't forced him to stay away from the wedding. It would be nice to drink a few beers and watch him hit on some of Amelia's barely legal friends.

"But he stopped by yesterday with your things. Did you two have a fight?"

I smile and twirl my mom out onto the dance floor before pulling her back. She laughs and smiles at me. "Don't worry about Mark and me. We're good."

Mom lays her head on my shoulder and squeezes my middle. "You're my favorite son, you know that, right?"

"I'm your only son," I remind her.

She laughs and we continue to sway. Mom's life changed so vastly when Dad received the money from Ikea, but she's never changed the person she is on the inside. She might dress better and drive a nicer car, but my mom is still the perfectly simple and loving woman she's always been.

After the buffet dinner, I'm too overwhelmed to pretend attending a wedding is exactly what I'd like to be doing at this moment. So I begin to drink. I start slow—this is my sister's wedding after all. I dance with Sophia and Brynn between beers and then take a turn with both Nancy and Kathleen. By eight, everyone is good and liquored up, so I sneak away from the party to check my phone in my room.

I have three missed calls—two from Mark and one from an unknown number.

I call the unknown first. It rings, and rings, and rings, but no one answers and voicemail doesn't kick in.

Next, I call Mark back.

"Derek, where have you been?" he sounds frantic.

I run my hand along the back of my neck. "My sister's wedding." Duh.

"Can I come over?"

"Now's really not a good time, Mark. The reception is supposed to go on until ten."

"It's about Meredith, man."

My stomach drops. "Tell me."

"I'll be over in five minutes."

In those five, six, seven minutes, I pace the length of my room. I start to sweat so I throw my jacket off and over the edge of the bed. I call the unknown number again and again, knowing it was Meredith who tried to reach me. When I'm not pacing, sweating, and calling, I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at a single nick in the wall. Seriously, what could be taking Mark so long? And how does he have information on Meredith? Did she call him too?

I hear his footsteps running up the stairs and I meet him in the hallway. He pushes past me and walks into my room.

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know."

I begin to pace again. "How can you not know? How do you know anything? Did she call you? How did she sound? Is she headed back north? Did she—"

"Fuck man," Mark interrupts me, "calm down. I can't think."

"Just tell me what happened."

"Andy called me this afternoon. He's been away for a few days and came back and Meredith had left. She left a note thanking them for their help, but has decided to head out on her own."

The last two days have been easier knowing Meredith is safe. But now, nothing seems easy.

"There's more."

"More?"

Mark nods, "It's a good thing though. Maybe. Apparently, Meredith was spending a lot of time on Facebook sending messages before she left. Andy allowed her to use his computer and she always forgot to logout. The one day she had three new messages and the next four. He can't change her password without confirming through her email—you know, so you could go on and check, maybe get some clues—but he thought maybe she forgot to sign out of Facebook from your computer as well." Mark shrugs, "You might find out something."

"I can't do that."

"Why not? Even if you learn one little thing, it's better than knowing nothing."

I remember the article I read weeks ago when Ellis begged for information on her daughter. Sometimes, even with the best intentions, you learn things you just really don't want to know.

"What if Ellis is right? What if all Meredith did was lie to me?"

"What if she did? Wouldn't it be better to know now rather than later? Don't you just want the truth?"

I did. I do, more than I can ever express.

I make my decision. "My computer's not here, though. It's in New York."

"Let's go."

Mark and I barrel through my apartment door and I start up my computer. It feels like years while the processing system boots up. Mark sits next to me fidgeting. I tap my fingers on my knee. After much too long, I'm able to bring up Facebook. Both the spots for username and password are empty, but all I need is the first letter of Meredith's email and memory should bring up the rest of the information. I try M and G, but both fail to produce anything besides Mark's email.

"Try her middle name," Mark suggests.

I type E and .meredith pops up on the screen. I hit enter and her password fills the empty spot.

"I know you say she's smart, but Meredith is an idiot to forget to clear out her password."

She is an idiot, or maybe she trusted me enough not to look. I hover the mouse over the login button.

Mark grows antsy, "What the fuck?"

"It's wrong. I'm invading her privacy."

"Who cares? She left her password in your computer and has been sending messages to someone. You need to get over this girl and I'm sure there's something in those messages that will help you forget her. So stop being a pussy and login."

Mark's right. Meredith is all I think about—day in and day out. I need to stop worrying about her every single moment. Maybe she's told her friends where she's heading or maybe she's on her way home. She could gossip about using me and other guys along the way. Even if I read something about myself I don't want to know, knowing anything would be a greater relief than being in the dark.

I click login.

She has one new message. I click that first. A page-full of messages load, most of them from Cristina and Izzie. The newest message, though, is from someone named Alex Karev. I open the message. It was sent yesterday morning.

M,

i'll meet you outside DC tomorrow.

"Who's Alex?" Mark asks.

I shake my head. "I don't know."

I scroll all the way to the beginning of the train, dated May 28, the Saturday before Meredith left.

Where are you? Last I hear you were in Jersey. I'm in NYC and YOU'RE. NOT. HERE. You promised me you'd meet me in NYC. I waited in WSP for you. Almost raped like three times. Fuck Alex. I didn't run here because I want to be in New York. You promised!

I'm staying with a guy. Let me know when you get this and I'll meet you.

xo

I lean back against the couch. "She used me."

"You don't know that." Mark scrolls up to the next message, dated Sunday the 29th.

i'm sorry M. i couldn't make it in time. i got held up. Heading to NYC now. Should make it there by wednesday. Where do yu want to go? Vegas? LA?

The next message from Meredith, just twenty minutes later:

I know a place. Virginia. Meet me in Port Authority, by the flower shop on the 3rd level at 8am. I have bus tickets.

xo

"How did she buy bus tickets?" Mark asks. "I thought she had no money."

"She never said she didn't have money. I just assumed." I run my hand through my hair and to the back of my neck. "I don't want to see anymore."

Mark closes my laptop and slides off the arm of the couch next to me. "I'm sorry man."

"I was a fucking truck stop for her. She whirled into my life and fucking used me."

"I don't know what to say," Mark admits. "It sucks."

"You know, I thought I'd be the one to save her. I figured she just needed someone to care; someone who would look out for her. At first that was all it was about—keeping her safe and protected. But it's more than that now. Or it was before I found out she's a lying bitch who used me to keep her safe before her boyfriend came to town." I almost forget Mark's in the room with me. "I have this fantasy that she'll show up again, tell me she was wrong to leave, and I'll keep her guarded until her birthday. And then, it won't matter how old she is and we'll be together. She'll finish school and I'll help her get into any college she wants." I glance at Mark, feeling incredibly stupid. I wait for him to burst out laughing.

"I used to do that with Lexie, before she dumped me," he says sadly. "I used to imagine us going off to college together and going on vacations during spring breaks to Cancun and the Dominican Republic. When it comes to women, it's better for us not to imagine anything. They tend to break your heart."

I wipe my eyes dry and stand up. "Want a beer?"

"Do you need to ask?"

I grab two beers and sit back down next to Mark. "You know the worst part," I take a long draw of my beer. Mark shakes his head. "The very worst part is I believed everything she said. I believed the bullshit about her mom and dad, and I believed her troubled youth story. For all I know her dad is still alive and kicking. Her mom clearly isn't a drunk and I bet she ran away because she wanted to be with some guy her parents didn't approve of. It's fucking Romeo and Juliet all over again with worse lines and some pathetic schmuck left behind in the wake of their love or whatever."

Mark says nothing for a long moment. Finally, he says, "Do you really think she lied about her dad? That's pretty fucking low."

"I have no idea. It just seems likely, after everything she's already lied about. I wonder if she met up with Alex or if she's using some other guy for food and shelter."

"I don't think she only used you for that stuff."

"What do you mean?"

Mark finishes off his beer quickly. "What I mean is: yeah, she used you for shelter and food, but I think she also liked hanging with you." I roll my eyes. "No, hear me out. That day at the beach, you guys hung on every word. She actually seemed to want to be around you."

"So she liked me? So what? It doesn't change the fact that she only used me for her basic needs."

"We all use everyone for something at some point."

I try not to spit out my beer. "Are you drunk? Or are you seriously siding with her right now?"

"I'm almost drunk, but I'm not siding with anyone. I think it's important for you to realize that Meredith might have had an ulterior motive for seeking you out, but she might have actually liked you in the end."

"Whatever," I grumble and finish my beer. "Just yesterday you were berating me for giving a flying fuck about her and today you're siding with her?"

"I think what Meredith did is shitty, and I'm not siding with her. But the fact of the matter is, I hate when you're pissed and upset. If it takes me to play devil's advocate to get you out of your funk, I'll do it."

I smile at Mark, "Aren't you a sensitive son of a bitch."

Mark chuckles and kicks his heels onto my coffee table. "And don't you forget it. Now, get me another beer. If we're going to be analyzing our past relationships all night, I want to be good and drunk."

I grab the empty bottles and meander back into the kitchen.

Mark's phone rings from the living room.

I uncap the beers and stare out my little kitchen window for a second. Out there, somewhere, some other guy is going through exactly what I'm going through. Maybe he's found out his girlfriend has been lying to him for months about her whereabouts during her "Tuesday night yoga classes" or maybe the missing money from some guy's account can only be traced back to his ex-wife. All across the globe, men and women are lying and deceiving each other. Meredith could be lying to Alex right now—denying the kiss on the roof, pretending nothing happened. It's miserable to think Meredith Grey isn't the first, and won't be the last, woman to lie to me.

"Where are you?"

Mark's tone draws me away from the window and back into the living room. His wide eyes move to focus on me. "Do you need help?"

"Who is it?" I whisper.

"Meredith," he mouths back.

I reach for the phone. "Hey, Meredith, Derek wants to talk to you." He waits, "Yeah, okay. Hold on." Mark covers the receiver. "She doesn't sound good man."

"Meredith?"

"Hi Derek," her voice crackles through the phone. It sounds like she has a bad connection.

"Where are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm doing okay."

I pace the length of the living room. "I'm glad you're okay, but where are you?"

"I left Andy's place yesterday."

I curl my fingers into a fist. "I know. Andy called Mark. I'm asking where you are Meredith. Are you still in Virginia?"

Static fizzles through the receiver and I pull my ear away until it clears. Meredith's voice kicks back in mid-sentence, "…but I'll be fine. Andy was great by the way. Tell Mark thanks."

"I didn't hear what you said. Where are you?"

"It doesn't matter," she practically shouts loud and clear.

"Of course it matters!" The line is quiet on her end. I check to make sure she didn't hang up on me. My head is fuzzy with alcohol and anger—a dangerous mix. "Who are you with?" I ask like a concerned father. I almost want to kick myself for being so invasive. I have no right.

"What do you mean? I'm alone."

I tip my head to the ceiling and take a deep breath. "So Alex Karev isn't with you?"

"Derek…" Mark warns. I shake my head.

"How do you know about Alex?"

"It doesn't matter," I say snidely.

For a long moment, Meredith is silent, and then, "I didn't have to call you, you know. I figured you'd want to know I'm safe, but now I can see that you'd rather I didn't call."

"Don't be dramatic, Meredith. You're just pissed because I realized you're a liar. Let me just see if I got this straight: you left your parents' house because they don't like your boyfriend Alex."

"Derek, don't be a dick," Mark scolds.

I turn my back to him and walk into my room. "Look, I'm not sorry that I helped you get away from that guy in the alleyway, but if you knew you were meeting your boyfriend a week later, I wouldn't have…" but I have nothing to say. Would I really have left her on the street? Or refused to feed her? Or expected anything other than her thanks? "You shouldn't have let me kiss you."

"I can see that now! You have no idea what you're talking about. Do you really think I ran away from home because I wanted to be with Alex? This isn't Romeo and Juliet, Derek, this is real life. I told you why I ran."

"Your mom didn't seem to agree with your story though," I fire back.

"You've seen my mom? How?"

I cut to the important part, "Mark and I found your house. Your mom was sober and the house didn't look like an alcoholic had been neglecting it for years. Your mom said you're a liar."

"You're unbelievable. Do you want the truth? Fine Derek…here it is: I ran away with Alex, but not because he's my boyfriend. Alex is my best friend and he needed me. My mom's an alcoholic and she hit me, so Alex gave me an opportunity to run, so I ran. My mom is also an overbearing control-freak who has my entire life laid out for me like a fucking prize-winning pony. I'm not a show horse and I won't do what she wants just because she says so. So yeah, I left and I met a really great guy in New York, who turned out to be a fucking asshole."

Despite the conviction in her voice, I still can't believe her. It seems so far-fetched after meeting Ellis. "Meredith, I…" I have no idea what I want to say.

She doesn't let me speak anyway. "I hope you have a really awesome life, Derek. Enjoy living on your parents' money and drinking to an oblivion with Mark."

"Alex is not just your friend," I stupidly claim.

"Is this what all this is about? Are you pissed about Alex and me? Not that it's any of your business, but at one point we weren't just friends. But that's over and I had thought I'd met a great guy and was moving on. Do you realize how hard it was for me to leave? Especially after you kissed me! But I had made a promise to Alex and he's my first priority in all this. I was coming back as soon as I turned eighteen." She gasps and it sounds like she's crying. "I can't believe you ruined this."

"Why wasn't Alex with you from the start?"

"Alex was in boarding school in New Jersey. He couldn't leave right away but I could. He promised to meet me the day I first ran into you. But he was detained at school for a senior prank. That's why I stayed with you for so long. He messaged me on Facebook as soon as he got out, so I left. Again, not that any of this is your business."

"I had no idea. I'm s—"

"Save it, Derek. I have to go."

"Just tell me you'll be safe."

"Nowhere in the world is safer than being with Alex."

I ignore the dig, "You'll let me know if—" the line cuts out. "Meredith? Meredith?" I try to redial the number she called from, but it comes up unknown. I stare at the useless phone in my hands and try to figure out when I became such an asshole.

"That didn't go over well," Mark says from the doorway.

I stand up and hand him his phone. "I'm going to bed Mark."

"Derek…"

"I can't talk about it Mark. I'll never see her again and it's because I'm a douche bag who couldn't keep his mouth shut. I just want to sleep."

Mark nods, "Alright buddy. Do you need anything?"

"Just turn the lights off on your way out."

I fall down onto my bed face first and hug the pillow around my head. I hear Mark turning all the lights off and walking out my front door. My apartment is too quiet and my brain is too loud. Somehow I've managed to turn Meredith's story into a fairy tale while believing the words of a woman I spent no more than five minutes with. I've run her out of town, without a way to contact her.

Inspiration strikes. Facebook.

I jump out of my bed and grab my laptop in the living room. When I open the screen, Meredith's Facebook is still logged in. I sign out, delete her password for good, and sign into my own. I search for her and type my message out.

Meredith,

I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am. I'm an asshole. I got wrapped up in everything your mom told me and I allowed it to overwhelm the truth. I can't believe I chose not to trust you, especially after you told me the truth right to my face.

I'm not sure if you'll have a chance to read this, but I am sorry and I don't want this to be the last time I communicate with you. I don't want our friendship to end because I acted on a whim. My apartment is always available to you and Alex if you ever need a place to stay. Again, I'm so sorry.

-Derek

P.S. You should know I don't plan on living on my parents' money forever and I don't drink nearly as much as I did before I met you.

I send the message and hope—and pray—that Meredith might see it and forgive me.