Meredith's body felt light as she stepped out of the carriage, her hand clasped tightly in Mark's. She looked up in wonder at the mansion ablaze with light before her, the house that was now hers. She looked over at Mark, bewilderment lighting her eyes and a disbelieving smile playing at the edges of her mouth. Mark chuckled at her expression, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I've never seen you speechless before. It's almost refreshing," Mark laughed.
Meredith lightly hit him on the shoulder. "Is that any way to talk to your wife?" she said with a smile.
"You're right. That was cruel of me," Mark said, bending his head in false remorse. A mischievous smile came over his face as he looked down at her through his eyelashes. "It was funny, though."
"Let's just get to the party before people begin to wonder where we are," Meredith retorted, pulling him forward. "We wouldn't want people to get the wrong idea."
"Especially Derek," Mark mumbled under his breath, but not soft enough. Meredith winced as a pain attacked her chest. Mark squeezed her hand, a truly remorseful look in his eyes.
They forced smiles onto their faces as Mark pushed the door open. Applause rained over them as they walked in, smiling faces greeting them warmly.
"Here they are, the bride and groom," Mark's father, John, boomed over the din of the crowd. "Everyone, I ask that tonight, you forget the worries of the world and revel in the happiness that surrounds them. In honor of them, dance, drink, and enjoy yourselves."
Meredith's smile turned cold as she watched Derek walk to the front of the room, the place Mark's father had just vacated. What was he going to do?
He cleared his throat, bringing everyone's attention upon him. Fingering his champagne glass, his gaze passed over the crowd and rested on Meredith before he began.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention for a short while longer, I, as the best man, would like to toast the bride and groom. Meredith and Mark, to say that your union was expected would be a lie. Many people in this room, I'm sure, were very surprised to hear that you were getting married and were even more surprised when the wedding date was moved up, myself included. However, despite that, the love and respect you have for each other is evident and we cannot question that your marriage will be one full of happiness and laughter. I wish for you both to come through the problems of life together and hold onto that happiness that bonds you now. To Meredith and Mark."
He knocked the glass back easily, his eyes hardening against Meredith's as tears threatened to suffocate her. Mark forcefully turned her toward him, looking deep into her eyes.
"Don't listen to him. He's just angry at things that he can't control," Mark said soothingly, pulling her into his embrace. "Don't let him ruin the night for you."
"I know I shouldn't, and I know that this is killing him, but he hurts me so much. You saw him up there. He did that on purpose."
"I know he did, and I want to kill him for that. But we mustn't let him drag us down. This is our wedding night and I plan to enjoy it. Will you join me?"
Meredith bit her lip as she looked up at him, her pain not easily disguised. Taking his arm, she let him pull her to the dance floor, the other couples parting the way for them. He took her gently in his arms and they stepped gracefully into the waltz. As they danced, though, everything quickly became sour. Meredith's stomach turned, as a wave of nausea and dizziness hit her. She squeezed her eyes shut as she clung to Mark, trying to force the sickness away. Her breathing became labored as she rested her head on Mark's shoulder, the darkness clutching onto the edges of her mind.
"Mark, I need to sit down," she breathed, as she felt her knees buckle beneath her. Mark swept her up in his arms as a collective gasp came up from the crowd. Thatcher ran from his position on the edge of the crowd, pushing people out of his way.
"What wrong with her?" he demanded.
"The day has finally gotten to her," Mark said nonchalantly, even though fear was causing the hair on the back of his neck to stand on end. "She'll be fine once she lies down for a little while."
Forcing himself to believe his own words, he gently carried Meredith to the drawing room and laid her down on the small settee, stroking her check lovingly. Thatcher propped open the window, letting the cool breeze wash over his sick daughter. Derek appeared in the doorway, worry etching lines into his face.
"Mr. Grey, could you go get Meredith some water? I need a moment to speak with Derek," Mark said forcefully, his eyes flashing with anger.
Looking at Meredith once more, Thatcher complied, leaving a fuming Mark with Derek. His hands clenching into fists, he turned on Derek.
"Is this what you wanted?" he spat.
"You think I would want Meredith to be sick. It is my child," Derek retorted, walking forward and drawing to his full height.
"To see how you act toward her, you do. You are making her feel so guilty about something that she has no control over and that guilt is suffocating her."
"I am making her feel guilty? How am I making her feel guilty?"
"Are you serious? Ever since the engagement was announced, you've been yelling at her and accusing her of some wrong doing even though she had nothing to do with this. This was purely a business matter between my father and her father. She had no say whatsoever."
"Really, and I should believe you why?" Derek asked harshly.
"Because I'm your best friend and I wouldn't lie to you." Derek rolled his eyes. "And because she loves you."
Derek's eyes dropped to his shoes and his shoulders slumped as Mark's words sunk in.
"She doesn't love me. I know she doesn't. She loves you and she loves your baby. That's why she agreed to marry me. She's trying to protect you. She's trying to protect your reputation while risking everything."
"I don't need protection!" Derek shouted. "I need my best friend to divorce the love of my life."
"So you're going to leave Addison then? Your father will just love you for that."
"You know I can't do that."
"Oh, that's right because if you do, no more money and Derek doesn't know how to live on his own."
"You have no right to judge me."
"No, I guess I don't, because Derek is perfect. Derek has no faults. Derek just thinks that he can have everything he wants and doesn't have to face any of the consequences or get out from under Daddy's wing."
"Will you just shut up?"
"No, I won't. Derek, what do you expect Meredith to do? Live the life of a spinster and a single mother cast out of society? Raise that child without a father? Be disowned? Would you rather have her disowned than you? How noble of you! You don't deserve her, you selfish pig. You don't deserve to have any part of her. She is kind, smart, caring, loyal, selfless, everything that you're not. She takes responsibility for her mistakes and puts others before herself. You only worry about what will help you the most. She is everything a woman should be. You're nothing."
"Listen to you, talking about her like you actually care. If I didn't know you better, I would think you were actually falling for her. But you wouldn't do that, would you? Because this is just a business matter, right?"
"I care for her and I want to protect her. That doesn't mean I'm falling for her. I'm just filling the role that has been given to me. Maybe you should try it with Addison?"
"That's what you would like, wouldn't you? I'll go off with Addison so you can have Meredith."
"Derek, you're acting like a child. Grow up and face your responsibilities."
"This is just like you, Mark. You've always wanted everything I have and now you have the nerve to lecture me. You have no right to get all righteous with me because you should really act out what you preach."
"I am. I'm growing up; I'm taking responsibility. I actually have a job. I'm providing for myself and my wife. I'm not running away from my marriage. And I'm taking care of your child. Do you think I want to do that? Do you think that I want to claim that child as my own when it's actually my best friend's? Derek, this, this whole thing, is not my choice, but I'm not complaining about it and trying to find ways around it like a schoolboy. You need to do the same, unless you want to ruin your life as well as the lives of everyone around you. I will get Meredith away from you before you can do any more harm to her, though. I swear on my life I will."
"You can't do that! She can make her own choices," Derek seethed, glaring at Mark.
"Like hell, I can't! I'm her husband, if you haven't noticed. It's my job to protect her and that means keeping her away from you before you kill her and her child," Mark yelled.
"So now you're the noble gentleman. Just wait. You won't be saying the same thing when you're screwing some whore in a few days. You don't care about her. Stop pretending that you do!"
"I care about her more than you do!"
"How dare you!"
"Derek, get out of my house! You can't be here any longer!"
"You can't throw me out!" Derek screamed.
"Watch me!" Mark yelled, as his fist connected with Derek's jaw. The impact sent him sprawling to the floor, as blood started to trickle from his lip. Brushing the blood away and looking at it in disbelieve, he looked back up at Mark. His eyes flashing with malice, he jumped back to his feet and flew at Mark, pushing him back to the wall. Derek sent blows flying into his stomach and face, blood spouting from his wounds.
Before Derek could inflict anymore damage, Thatcher, John, and William came running in and pulled them apart.
"What is wrong with you two?" William screamed, as he and Thatcher pulled a seething Derek across the room.
"We just had a disagreement," Mark growled, as he sat down in the chair next to Meredith's still form.
"You're acting like children, fighting over some stupid argument," John said, as he rested his hand on Mark's shoulder.
"That's what I've been trying to tell Derek all evening," Mark retorted, glaring at him.
"Yes, which is exactly why you started the fight," Derek said sarcastically, blood from his hand dripping onto the white carpet.
"Only because you wouldn't leave when I told you to," Mark replied, bruises already forming on his face.
"Derek, just let it go. Get up. We're leaving," William demanded as he pulled his son up out of the chair. Turning to Mark, he said, "I'm sorry for my son's actions. He had no right to ruin your wedding night."
"It's alright, Mr. Shepherd. He was not completely at fault. I did hit him first," Mark replied, smiling sheepishly up at him. Still holding his son under the arm, William marched out of the mansion.
"Mark," a weak voice sounded from behind. He turned quickly, dropping next to his new wife and taking her hand in his. She gazed up at him with glassy eyes, a slight smile on her face.
"Darling, are you alright?" Mark asked, gently stroking her cheek.
"Just a little woozy," she said with a breathy laugh. "What kind of bride faints at her own wedding?"
"Only the most beautiful one," Mark murmured as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
She pressed her cool, clammy fingers to the rapidly forming bruise on his forehead. "What happened? Was I really out long enough for you to get into a fight?"
"Unfortunately, yes," Mark sighed. "But he's gone now. And I look worse than he does."
"That's too bad. Hit him a little hard next time."
Mark chuckled, his eyes dancing in the dim firelight. "I'll be sure to do that."
"Meredith, are you alright?" Thatcher asked as he returned with a glass of water, concern darkening his face. He took the seat on the other side of her and handed her the water.
After taking a grateful drink, Meredith turned to him, saying, "I'm fine. I just got overheated and dizzy. This dress is very heavy."
"Do you think you could manage one more dance, dear?" Mark asked, squeezing her hand. "I would like one full dance with my bride before we retire."
Meredith colored at his words, trying to forget about what was to come. She accepted his hand as she shakily rose to her feet.
They emerged into the ballroom to applause and words whispered behind clapping hands. She tried to ignore their eyes as Mark pulled her into his arms and the orchestra began a new song.
"Just hold onto me. I'll get you through this," Mark murmured as he gently guided her into a waltz. She gripped his shoulder, her knuckles turning white. A faint sheen developed on her forehead as she tried to keep herself steady through the seemingly unending turns. Mark pulled her closer to him, pulling her arms up so they interlocked behind his neck.
"What are you doing?" she hissed under her breath, aware of all of the scandalized glances. No one danced that close.
"Making sure you don't pass out on me again. Put your head on my chest and close your eyes. Don't even think about moving. I'll move for you."
She looked at him quizzically, about to protest, but the look in his eyes told her that any such protest would fall on deaf ears. Doing as he told, she rested her head on his chest, closing her eyes and letting him guide her. She relaxed into his embrace, pressing up against him. It felt almost right, as if she could really imagine spending her life with this man who held her.
But her slightly protruding belly brought her back to reality. How could she ever be Mark's wife when she was pregnant with his best friend's child? How could she be his wife when the wedding night that was supposed to be his had already been taken? Shame suddenly threatened to choke her as tears pricked at her eyes. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks when the song finally ended. "Can we leave now?" she whispered in Mark's ear.
Seeing her tear-rimmed eyes, Mark's expression quickly turned to one of concern, flicking quickly down to her growing stomach. "Of course," he whispered back. "Do you need a doctor?"
"No, I'm just very tired."
"Let me just go speak to my father briefly," he said, starting to let go of her hand. But she tightened her grasp.
"If you let go of me now, I might fall."
Nodding, he guided her through the room to where their fathers were sitting, drinking out of tumblers of whiskey and laughing at their success. They seemed almost hesitant to look up to the newlyweds, they were so engrossed in their revelry.
"I hope all of that nastiness with Shepherd has been forgotten," John chortled, his eyes bloodshot already.
"Oh, yes, just a minor dispute," Mark shrugged. "A business disagreement."
"You're telling me he's in business now?"
"No; that was the disagreement."
The two older men roared. "My dear boy, I can already tell you shall be a wonderful son-in-law," Thatcher slurred, clapping Mark on arm. "And how are you feeling, darling?"
"Much better now, thank you, father," Meredith said meekly, staring at her feet.
"Wonderful. Wouldn't want you to be ill on your wedding night," John exclaimed. Meredith's cheeks flamed and she wished the ground would open up and swallow her.
"That was actually what we wanted to talk to you," Mark interjected smoothly. "Meredith is feeling quite tired, and I am rather weary myself. Would it be improper for us to duck out already?"
John surveyed them seriously for a moment. "If you can't manage one more dance," he began, before breaking into a smile, "who am I to forestall the wedding night joys? Even though we're old men, we have not forgotten that the true wedding celebrations start after the music has ended."
"I have taken the liberty of reserved a room at the Plaza for you two. I didn't figure you would want to stay here until all of the revelers had departed," Thatcher added with a wink. "Christina is waiting there with your things, Meredith."
"Thank you, father," Meredith said, leaning down to kiss him on the check.
Catching her hand, Thatcher added, "Your mother and sister would have been so proud to see you today. You are so beautiful, my angel, and I love you."
"I love you too, father," Meredith replied, tears glistening in her eyes.
Giving her hand a squeeze, he said, "Don't let the nostalgia of an old man keep you two any longer."
Taking Mark's hand again, they began to weave their way towards the door. But they should have known that their exit wouldn't be that easy.
"Leaving so soon?" came a chiding voice behind them. They turned to find Addison flanked by three or four other socialites. "Someone must be eager to leave after only a couple of dances. Meredith, you haven't even thrown your bouquet yet."
Meredith plastered a fake smile on her face. "Of course, how could I have forgotten? I know you're ready to go, Mark," she said with a laugh, pressing a light kiss to his lips, "but I must throw my bouquet first."
"Do it quickly, my love," he teased, kissing her cheek.
"You heard my husband," Meredith called. "All the ladies, gather around." Addison tried to shuffle to the back of the crowd, but Meredith wouldn't have that. "Where are you going, Addison?"
"Well, I'm already going to be married-"
"But you're not married yet, so join the group," Meredith interrupted, dazzling the red head with her best fake smile. With a huff, Addison took her place, right at the front of the group. Meredith turned around, winking at Mark.
"One, two," she called, before bending slightly back so she could see her target. At the call of "three," she threw to flowers, squarely into Addison's face. Grabbing Mark's hand before Addison could start fuming, they ran out of the mansion, down the stairs, and into the waiting carriage, barely containing their giggles. Only when the carriage door was closed and they were rolling their way towards the Plaza did their peals of laughter erupt.
"Did you really just hit Addison in the face with your bouquet?" Mark asked when he could finally speak again, his cheeks flushed.
"I didn't mean to, I swear," Meredith tried to say with a straight face, but a smile tugged relentlessly at the corner of her mouth.
"Right, just like I didn't mean to hit Derek in the face with my fist."
Meredith tried her hardest to look scandalized, but the sparkle in Mark's steel blue eyes started her laughing again. As her sides began to ache, she realized that though she may never love Mark the way she loved Derek, she was already fond of him. Perhaps that would be enough.
Moving over to sit next to him, she folded his hand between hers and laid her head on his shoulder. Looking out at the city, she certainly hoped it would be enough. For her and for him.
Despite the short notice, the Grey-Sloan wedding was the social event of the season. It seems that even with only two weeks to prepare, the reigning financial master of the city and the relative newcomer who has already set the stock market on its toes can band together to throw one of the largest parties this reporter has seen in years.
The ceremony itself was private, with only family and select friends in attendance, but the reception seemed to be open to anyone who's anyone. Guests were arriving far after the bride and groom had already departed for the Plaza, even though they did leave rather hastily, blushing and playful as newlyweds are wont to be.
But Mr. and Mrs. Sloan were present long enough to take part in most of the rather scandalous moments of the evening. After a rather forced speech from best man Derek Shepherd, the couple took to the floor for their first dance that was ended abruptly when Meredith fainted. Swept up in her husband's arms, she was rushed into a drawing room, the whole crowd watching in shock.
Mrs. Sloan did not emerge for rather some time, but this reporter did see a fuming Derek Shepherd escorted out by his father, sporting a black eye and bloody lip. One can only assume there was some sort of altercation between long time friends Mark and Derek when Mark reemerged with his pale bride wearing a similar black eye.
But the scandal didn't end there. The couple graced the crowd with one last dance, but not without leaving the lookers-on a bit uncomfortable. While one could innocently assume that their stance was simply meant to support Meredith as she recovered from her fainting spell, their intimate embrace left little to the imagination of what was to come when the two arrived at their Plaza hotel room. Their quick departure as soon as the song ended confirmed what everyone was thinking: these two were ready to embark on their honeymoon.
Mrs. Sloan did not fail to forget the famous tradition of throwing her bouquet, though. Giving her impatient new husband a quick but tender kiss, she left the flowers fly—straight into the face of one Addison Montgomery. This reporter certainly loves seeing the noted red head flustered and this moment certainly didn't disappoint. The two lovebirds were out the door before they could see the fall out, but it was certainly entertaining.
The rest of the night was characterized by the typical drunken shenanigans of these kinds of events, leaving this reporter to moon on the departed lovers, so happy and obviously enthralled with each other. No one at that party will be surprised if the announcement of a coming bundle of joy ignites the gossip chains of the city in just a few months.
With one highly anticipated wedding already over much earlier than anyone expected, we are left to look forward to the Montgomery-Shepherd wedding set for this fall. But I hardly think it could top the extravagance or the entertainment of the Grey-Sloan wedding. Not when Mr. Shepherd could barely bring himself to look at his fiancé all night. Something tells me there may be more than just trouble in paradise for those two. Maybe Derek can get some tips from Mark for how to build a happy marriage, because the former most eligible bachelor of New York City seems to excelling at his new job as doting husband.
-The Manhattan Tattler