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Addison clocked off on time that night, which was unusual for her, but she couldn't stand walking into Derek or the slutty intern around every corner for a moment longer, so she left the hospital and caught a cab home. She spent the entire ride watching the driver's every move, every turn he made and every time he took a hand off the wheel. Her phone remained in her hand in a tight grasp, emergency services already on speed dial, just in case. Every murmur he made sent her heart racing, pounding against her chest until Addison was so sure it would burst out. But it didn't, and she made it through the five minute drive without having a meltdown or bolting out of the car, which impressed her slightly.
She paid the driver too much, not that she cared, and told him to keep the change as she hurried inside her building, pulling the door closed and blocking out the biting cold air from outside. A faint sigh of relief escaped her lips as Addison let out a breath she wasn't sure how long she'd been holding.
Once she'd climbed out of the elevator and let herself into her apartment, Addison kicked off her shoes into a corner and grabbed a bottle of wine from the rack in her kitchen. Glass in hand, she trailed off to her bedroom, flicking on all the lights as she went. She put a mindless chat show on the tv in the corner of her room and settled herself under the heavy blankets, filling her wine glass to the brim and setting the bottle on her bedside table.
Having finished the first and second glasses of wine within the first 15 minutes of sitting down, Addison poured herself her third and took a heavy gulp. Her alarm clock showed that it was almost 1.00, but she couldn't sleep. Closing her eyes meant being vulnerable, and she needed to remain vigilant for whatever might happen. Rational Addison knew that the chances of anything happening were very slim, but that part of her mind was overpowered by a much stronger sense of overwhelming fear and utter terror at the thought of even closing her eyes for a second. Closing her eyes also meant sleep, and she was too scared that sleep might mean dreams. Of course, she wanted to remember what had happened so she could go to the police (she still had about 12 hours before the window for a successful exam closed), in case she ever did. However, dreams meant even more anxiety and fear and sleepless nights. At least this way, she was reasonably content yet sleepless, when she could be terrified and sleepless. It was the best of a bad two options, but she took it nonetheless.
Eventually, Addison had to concede that nighttime TV was just as bad, if not worse, than daytime TV so she signed onto Netflix instead, choosing a comedy that she was sure would be easy to follow. She soon zoned out, the show having the desired effect. However, this proved to be a disservice to her when she heard a thud in the background. Immediately, her heart raced, pumping blood and terror around her body at a thousand miles per hour. Jumping violently, Addison spilled half her wine all over the pristine white sheets, panicking her even further. She rubbed at the dark red stain, but this only seemed to make it worse until she turned her hands over to look at them, blood dripping through the gaps between her fingers.
No, Addison, it's just wine.
But it wasn't. Subconsciously, she reached to the place on her head where the still-sore wound was and all of a sudden Addison was back there. But this time, she remembered something else.
His eyes.
His eyes were dark, cold and ruthless, staring into her's without blinking as he pushed her to the ground, standing over her…
And that was all that she remembered. But that was enough, too much even. She buried her hands in her hair, making a fist and trying to regain control, trying to breathe normally again, but she just couldn't. The memory forced the air out of her lungs faster than she could breathe it in and the room slowly started spinning, black spots blocking her vision. Her chest got tighter and tighter, until she was pretty sure she was going to pass out, and the whole time the same thought ran through her head: stop being so stupid. It was a car backfiring.
Addison wasn't entirely sure how long she spent fighting to stop hyperventilating, but she did know what finally stopped it.
Naomi.
Her cell rang, the ringtone piercing through the silence and Addison's thoughts as she stumbled to pick up the phone, answering with a stifled sob in relief that her friend was on the other end.
'Addie? Addison, what's wrong?'
Naomi had called because the woman hadn't called her back, thinking that she had just gotten caught up with a case, but now she knew it was something more serious. Because Addison was crying, and Naomi had only ever known her to do that when Derek had left her. The first time.
Addison tried to stop crying, wiping the tears away as quickly as they came, but they kept coming and she saw how futile it was.
'God, I'm sorry. I don't know; it's nothing really. I just can't save this woman and her baby and it's killing me. I don't know why,' she whispered.
Naomi hesitated. 'Do you think maybe it has something to do with what time of year it is?' she asked carefully.
Addison blanked. Time of year?
'You know, when you called me after you and Mark, I was really worried, Addie, and I still am if it's affecting you so much still. I know you didn't want to at the time, but do you think it would benefit you to see someone about the abortion?'
The abortion. Oh God, it all made perfect, horrible sense. Her relief at not being pregnant, when five years ago today she'd gotten rid of the only baby she'd ever be able to have. She felt sick.
'I don't know, Nai, maybe.' She'd calmed herself down by now, realising she had to if she didn't want her oldest friend to know what had happened. 'Anyway, why were you calling?'
'Oh, no reason. Just checking in. Where are you staying, again?'
Addison was puzzled, but didn't think much of it. 'Erm, the Motif. Why?'
'No reason. Listen, I've got to go or Maya will kill me for making dinner too late. I'll speak to you soon?'
Addison sighed. Soon would never be soon enough to keep her sane, especially if all her nights were going to take a similar shape to this one. 'Yeah, sure. Thanks for calling, Nai. Goodnight!'
