Addison never replied.
Although Derek kept his hopes alive for a while, she never responded to any of his messages.
Because that message he had sent her in February had simply been the first of a series of desperate messages he had written under the influence of alcohol.
"Addie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you that. I regret it so much. I need to talk to you to explain better. Please, respond."
That had been the second message he sent her, minutes after Meredith left Mark's apartment.
"I miss you, Derek," she had told him that night, tears in her eyes.
He had stood frozen in the doorway, trying to process the fact that she had come there crying at night. She didn't usually do that kind of thing.
"I feel so alone," she had said after he failed to ask, "Alex betrayed me, Cristina's pregnant and wants to have an abortion, but Owen's psychologically torturing her not to, even though he knows she doesn't wanna be a mother. Lexie's with Jackson, and you... you abandoned me. I'm completely alone."
"Don't do this, Meredith," he had replied at that moment. His mind couldn't –nor did it want to– process any other problem besides the stupid message that Addison hadn't answered the previous day.
"Please, Derek. Don't you think I've been punished enough for what I did?"
"I'm sorry. I... I'm sorry," and shaking his head, he had shut the door in her face, cutting the conversation short. He went to his room with a glass of Scotch and, without hesitating again, had sent that second message to Addison. She didn't respond either.
After that, a few more messages came. Uncertainty took hold of his mind. During those days, he often wondered if she was just busy, if she had changed her phone number, or if she really didn't want to reply.
And the idea that Addison was intentionally ignoring him was too painful to contemplate. So every night, he poured himself a glass of Scotch and picked up his phone.
"Addie, I'm an idiot. I regret what I did every day. Can we talk?"
"Addie, gn. Hope ur doin well. Just wanted to kno if ur feelin the same way I am. It's been 2 wks, and I can't stop thinkin abt u. Do u think abt me?"
"Hey Addie, how's the weather in LA 2day? Is it tru more babies r born on rainy days? U busy?"
"Addie, I've been thinking abt us and what happened. I still think u looked beautiful that night. How r u?"
"U remember what kind of Scotch The Captain had? I haven't found anything as good as that. It tasted like u."
"Hey Addie, I got ur bra by accident. Thought maybe we could meet up so I can give it back and explain what happened. What u think?"
"I still feel something for you, Addie. And I can't sleep thinkin abt it. U think we'll ever get another chance?"
"Addie, I miss you. Can you read this?"
"Addison?"
But none of those messages got a reply. It wasn't until the last day of February that Derek –tired of the one-sided text messages that left him with little dignity– tried to call her for the first time.
He took a deep breath and, mustering up courage, dialed that number he had by now memorized. But when the call connected, he didn't hear a single beep indicating the start of a conversation. The line simply cut off immediately, without even offering him the opportunity to listen to the voicemail or record a message. Nothing.
Confused, he dialed again, and the same thing happened. And it was thanks to that that Derek realized that Addison, just as he had suspected in the previous days, had blocked him. And that she likely never even read the text messages he had sent.
With disappointment and anger boiling inside him, Derek forcefully threw his phone against the ground, shattering the screen into a thousand pieces. But he didn't care about that stupid device anymore.
He grabbed his car keys and, after downing the remaining Scotch whisky in the bottle he had opened that very day, left Mark's apartment in the middle of the night, with a fixed destination in mind.
The drive to Meredith's house wasn't very long; they both lived close to the hospital, but every second of the journey was filled with a desperate urgency fueled by his rage. As he gripped the steering wheel with his fingers, Derek wondered why she had done this. Why had Addison blocked him? When had it been? After the first message or after reading those where he confessed like an idiot how much he thought about her?
Why hadn't she even replied to a simple message? Why hadn't she given him a chance to explain? Why hadn't she accepted his apologies?
Was it because of that idiot Sam? Had Sam asked her to block him? Had she really chosen Sam over him? After all the history they had shared?
The hatred –and jealousy– he felt toward him twisted his stomach and implanted dark thoughts in his mind that he had never felt before. He wanted to strangle that stupid Sam with his own hands. How dare he even date Addison? How could she have dared to go out with him? Everything about that relationship was wrong!
When he arrived at his ex-girlfriend's house, he saw her open the door. Meredith was wearing a towel robe, and her damp hair was still dripping onto her face.
"What are you doing here, Derek?" she asked, a mix of confusion and annoyance on her face. After being rejected by him, she hadn't expected him to show up like this on her porch.
"I miss you, Meredith," he said, quoting the same words she had said days earlier at the door of Mark's apartment.
"Are you drunk? What's wrong with you?" She could see from his expression that he was not in the best state. His eyelids were heavy, and his voice was raspy. Something had happened to him.
Without allowing the repressed emotions to turn into words, Derek took her face in his hands and kissed her with such desperation that it took her by surprise. It was a fierce kiss, one that contained all the anguish he had accumulated over the past days. His mouth pressed against hers was a brute force, an attempt to erase, with every brush of their lips, the image of Addison that still weighed down his heart.
There was no room to think about whether he was doing the right thing or not. Without breaking away from Meredith, he guided her inside the house, gently pushing her against the hallway wall, ensuring their bodies stayed close. As the kisses grew more intense, his eager hands unbuckled the belt of her robe, causing it to open and allowing him to explore the contours of her body, anchoring himself in the familiarity of her figure.
"To my room," she murmured with a breathless voice once she was able to pull away from his mouth. She knew that too many people lived in that house to afford the luxury of doing it in the hallway. He simply nodded and followed her along the path he had taken a hundred times before.
That night Derek took his frustrations out on her. That night he used her to vent the intensity that threatened to consume him completely, the anger and helplessness he felt.
He just wanted to forget, even if only briefly, that he could never get Addison back.
~•~
As if it were déjà vu, the next day Derek woke up in Meredith's house, naked on the cold floor of her room. The morning light filtering through the blinds barely illuminated the place, but it was enough for him to feel the weight of the hangover pulsing in his head.
Confused, he slowly sat up and tried to reorder his thoughts. He didn't know why or how he had ended up there. The memories of the previous night were blurry fragments in his mind, but by his appearance and the unbearable pain he felt in his body, he could guess what had happened with Meredith. By the way, he couldn't see her in the room.
She was not home. In fact, no one was home. Everyone had left earlier than usual because an important day was approaching at the hospital, and the fifth-year residents needed to be prepared for it.
He looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand; it was 6:32 a.m. He needed to hurry if he didn't want to be late, so without wasting any more time, Derek took a quick shower, hoping the hot water and steam would help relieve his headache. He felt like an idiot for allowing himself to drink so much whisky the night before, knowing he had to work the next day.
Once he came out of the bathroom, he picked up the clothes he had left lying on the floor and quickly got dressed. He searched everywhere for his cell phone but couldn't find it. And then he remembered that he had broken it the night before. Which also reminded him, once again, that Addison had blocked him. Bitch.
He sighed in frustration and, taking his car keys, left for the hospital.
That morning at 7:30 a.m., as on every first day of the month, Richard held a small staff meeting to inform everyone about the updates and the dynamics established for that month. Even though he wasn't in the mood to meet with anyone, Derek settled into the meeting room as soon as he arrived at the hospital, watching as his colleagues slowly joined him.
"Did you have a night shift last night?" Mark asked, approaching with a coffee cup in hand. "I didn't see you leave this morning."
"No," Derek replied curtly.
"Something happened?"
"No."
"Who did you sleep with?" Mark chuckled mockingly, noticing his still-damp hair. He hadn't had time to dry or style it as he usually did.
Derek didn't respond. He didn't want to talk about what had happened. He was even embarrassed by it.
"Good morning, everyone," Richard began once everyone was gathered in the meeting room. "As you all know, today fifth-year residents rotate in as lead surgeons."
"We've alerted the morgue," Callie joked, making some of her colleagues laugh.
"Attendings, you will observe and stay silent. Offer help only when you absolutely have to," the chief continued.
"Yeah, before you help them swim, let 'em sink a little," Bailey teased.
Derek forced a smile while discreetly swallowing an aspirin in hopes of easing his hangover. His head really felt like it was about to explode at any moment, and the laughter and murmurs from his colleagues didn't help at all.
"The next order of business, effective 7:00 a.m., this morning, March 1, I have resigned as Chief of Surgery of Seattle Grace-Mercy West Hospital," Richard announced, causing everyone present, including Derek, to look at him in bewilderment. "I will stay on the surgical staff. I will turn this meeting over to the new Chief of Surgery, Dr. Owen Hunt."
Richard lowered his head in a clear gesture of sadness and moved to sit in an empty seat next to Derek, who was still trying to process what had just happened.
"Thanks, Dr. Webber," Owen said, forcing a smile while all his colleagues looked at him confused. "I know this comes as a surprise to all of you, too. And I appreciate, over the next couple of days, your help and your patience. Um, so, now I have your call schedules, but I can have them..."
"Wait," Arizona interrupted. "What happened?"
"Why did it happen?" Mark asked too.
Derek sighed in annoyance and turned to Richard. "Is this the board?" he asked in a whisper, so only he could hear. "Are they forcing you to step down? Hmm?"
Richard swallowed hard and forced a smile, ignoring what Derek had just asked him. It wasn't the time or place to talk about that, especially when the new chief was communicating the day's schedule to his colleagues.
Derek let out a sarcastic laugh and left the meeting room without even bothering to listen to the rest of the meeting.
~•~
It had already been a little over a month since the FDA had canceled Derek's clinical trial, and only now had he gathered the strength needed to compile all his files and documents to send them to the medical team that would take it over.
Just like with Addison, he had held on to the hope of resuming it at some point. He patiently waited for an email from the FDA to let him know that. But that never happened. And it would never happen, as he was blacklisted.
Meredith had truly ruined everything. And as much as Richard didn't want to admit it, he knew that her sudden resignation was directly related to her.
He knew that Meredith had always been Richard's favorite, even before she started working there. He had been part of her personal life, considering her like a daughter. He knew Richard would do whatever was necessary to protect her. In fact, he did. Derek still didn't understand how she had gotten her job back after the medical board fired her at the end of January, nor how she was allowed to practice medicine anyway.
He knew all that... but Richard resigning as chief of surgery because of her? No. He didn't see that coming.
"Is that the Alzheimer's trial?" Richard walked into the office, causing Derek to look up from the folders. He knew perfectly well it was, he just wanted to start the conversation.
"Uh-huh," Derek nodded, raising his eyebrows disinterestedly as he returned to what he was doing.
"Heard from the FDA?"
"I'm sending it to Phoenix. Carl Baumann is taking over. I'm blacklisted. I may never do another clinical trial ever again," Derek complained. His tone of voice carried evident annoyance.
"Yeah, I've been blacklisted, too…"
"And now you're gonna let them fire you?"
"I fired myself."
"It's one thing, taking the blame for Meredith and losing the trial, but why are you doing this to yourself?"
"You know, I came to ask if you heard anything about Addison."
Derek felt a chill run through his body upon hearing his ex-wife's name.
"What's going on with her?" he asked nervously.
"I heard you went to her mother's funeral."
Derek could feel a warmth reddening his cheeks. He wasn't sure how much Richard knew.
"Uh, yeah, I went," he said awkwardly. "It was three weeks ago. I'm almost sure I emailed you to inform you about my absence during those days."
"I got it. I just wanted to know how she was doing. It was sudden news; Beatrice was a young woman, I didn't know she was sick."
Richard had known Addison's parents since she was a child. He had shared several medical conferences with the Captain in New York and, when he was Addison and Derek's mentor, he had attended some events hosted by Bizzy at her home.
The Montgomerys had always been very helpful and kind to him and Adele, and Richard remembered them with respect and affection. However, Addison hadn't informed him of her mother's death. Technically, she hadn't informed Derek either; Amelia had.
"She wasn't sick. It was... I think it was a heart attack. Or an aneurysm," Derek contradicted himself, hesitantly. He didn't clearly remember what Addison had said that day, and they hadn't talked about it afterward. "I think it was an aneurysm."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I know she's no longer your mother-in-law, but I'm sorry. I sent my condolences to Addie, but she hasn't responded yet. Do you know if she's okay?"
"Well, besides being blacklisted, now we have another thing in common. Addison isn't responding to my messages either," he said, sarcastically laughing as he hurriedly put the last folder into the box, eager to end the conversation. "What you're doing with Meredith... this isn't right. "
And without waiting for Richard to respond, he left the office.
~•~
Derek knew that the first solo surgery marked a turning point in the lives of medical residents. This milestone represented not only a personal achievement but also symbolized the culmination of years of hard learning, dedication, and sacrifice. It was the moment when the endless hours of study, sleepless nights, and constant practice in the operating room finally paid off.
That surgery framed the transition from a student to a competent surgeon. And that entailed great responsibility, as, from the moment the scalpel was placed in his hand, the lives of the patients depended entirely on his judgment and skill.
As he walked toward the patient's room that Meredith would operate on that afternoon, Derek remembered how his first solo surgery had been.
It was a craniotomy, of course. Almost all residents started with that type of surgery. His patient had been a 20-year-old woman, Marie Pitts, who had suffered a head injury while riding her bicycle, resulting in a subdural hematoma.
The head of the neurosurgery department at New York Presbyterian Hospital, Dr. Fitzer, had informed Derek with only an hour's notice that he would perform the surgery independently.
Even though he had assisted and helped in hundreds of craniotomies throughout his residency, Derek was very nervous that day. It was the first time all decisions would be made by him from start to finish. The first time he would be responsible for everything, both for the recovery and the possible death of the patient. And that was a bit overwhelming.
"Hey," Addison had said, hurriedly entering the washroom while he was preparing to go into the operating room. She had just come off a long night shift where she had delivered two babies early in the morning. "I just found out, congratulations!"
"Addie, I don't remember the steps. I don't know how to do it," he had murmured, fear evident on his face.
"Of course you know, Der. Trust yourself; you're the best neurosurgeon," she had smiled at him with all the pride a wife could feel at that moment.
"What if I'm not? What if I kill her? I should tell Fitzer to do it... I..."
"Of course, you can do it," she had said, taking his face in her hands while she still hadn't put on her mask. "You've prepared your whole life for this. No one knows better than you how to do a craniotomy. Damn, you could do it with your eyes closed. Come on, honey."
Addison had pulled out a scrub cap she had bought specifically for that moment from her scrubs pocket. It had an ocean and ferry pattern that she knew her husband loved. He had a thing for ferry boats.
"The blue color is good luck," she had told him, placing the cap on Derek's head. "Come on, you can do this. I'll be in the gallery with Sam cheering you on. Love you."
"Thanks, Addie. I love you," and after finishing washing up, he had entered the operating room with that gift she had given him.
The surgery had been successful. Derek had successfully evacuated Marie's hematoma. Once it was over, as everyone in the room applauded, he had looked up at the gallery, searching for his wife. And there was Addison, jumping for joy with Sam.
Derek felt a chill as he paused at the door of Rob Colvin's room, Meredith's patient. He had never minded Sam being present in that memory since he was his friend and residency mate. But now… now it had ruined it for him.
"So I will locate the aneurysm, which is the bulge in the wall of your artery," Meredith said from the room, explaining the procedure to Rob. "And then I will take a steel clip, which is like a tiny clothespin, and I'm gonna place it across the neck of the aneurysm. And that will stop the blood supply. That way, we don't have to worry about a rupture."
"How do you know if you fixed it?" Rob asked.
"Well, we do what we call a matador move. I'll take a needle, and I poke the dome of the aneurysm."
At that moment, Derek entered through the door and subtly positioned himself behind Meredith, without her noticing. As an attending surgeon, he was obligated to be present in the OR in case something went wrong, and the resident didn't know how to manage it.
"And if we see a tiny amount of blood, then we know it was successful," she smiled.
"And if it wasn't successful, it bursts…" Rob murmured.
"Possibly."
"And I die."
"Not if I get it clipped."
"And what's your success rate? How many have you done?" He still wasn't completely convinced about the surgery.
Meredith paused briefly. She didn't want to instill fear or distrust in her patient, but she had to be honest with him.
"This will be my first."
"I sort of wish you lied about that," Rob sighed.
Derek noticed the fear and disappointment on Rob and his wife's faces and decided to intervene in the conversation.
"Yeah, well, after today, her success rate will be 100%," he said, approaching with a warm smile. "Dr. Grey is the best we have, and I'll be there the whole time."
Meredith turned to look at him and smiled in gratitude. Derek's kindness and empathy always calmed his patients.
"Do you have any other questions?" he added.
"No, no," Rob said.
"Thanks," said Lindsay, his wife.
"Try and rest easy. I'll see you after," Derek left the room, and Meredith followed him.
"Thank you for that," she murmured.
"Yeah..." he smiled awkwardly and turned away, walking in the opposite direction from where he had come.
"Derek?" she stopped him, forcing him to turn around to look at her.
"Yes?"
"What happens to us?"
"Meredith..."
"What do you want to do? Do you want us to be together? What happened last night... what do you want to do?"
Derek took a deep breath, feeling uncomfortable. He didn't remember what he had told her the night before, but at that moment, after hearing about Richard's resignation that morning, he didn't want to talk to her. He was still very upset with Meredith.
"We have a surgery. Let's focus on that," he said that and walked down the hallway before she could keep asking.
~•~
That scrub cap with the ferry boat print had become Derek's personal talisman.
Since the day Addison gave it to him, he had worn it in every single surgery over the years. It was as if wearing it provided him with an invisible layer of safety and confidence that helped him act decisively in the operating room.
However, that chaotic night after discovering his wife was cheating on him with his best friend, Derek had forgotten the cap. He hadn't taken it to Seattle; it was stored in his office in New York. So during the few months he was separated from Addison, he wore other caps instead.
He had one navy blue cap with colorful fish; another dark blue with a vintage checkered pattern, and even one with waves and ocean decorations that Richard had given him. But none were like his favorite.
"I just know that I still love you..." Addison had whispered to him in the neonatal intensive care unit after he performed surgery on a newborn baby who had been abandoned and nobody wanted to risk it for her.
He had been reclining in a rocking chair next to the incubator, and she had leaned in to kiss him tenderly, to which he had automatically responded. It was their first kiss after Mark and Meredith.
When the kiss ended, she pulled the shuttle scrub cap out of her pocket, causing him to look on in surprise. She had brought it with her to Seattle. She hadn't forgotten how important that piece of fabric was to him.
"You're not God, but you're still the best neurosurgeon I know," she had said, handing him the cap with a smile.
From that moment until today, Derek had continued to wear it in every single one of his surgeries, even after their divorce. It remained his lucky charm.
However, before heading to the scrub room to accompany Meredith in Rob's surgery, he had decided to wear the plain blue scrub cap that came with the hospital uniform, like the other surgeons.
For the first time, it hurt to have that cap in his hands. He didn't want to think any more about Addison, or about Sam—who had unfortunately also become part of the ferry cap story—so he put it away in his locker.
"Have you got the pre-op scans?" he asked as he scrubbed his arms with antiseptic soap.
"I already looked them over," Meredith replied, who was next to him washing up as well.
"I want to look again."
Meredith turned her head to look at him with annoyance. She couldn't stand that about Derek. Yes, he might be the head of neuro, and he might have decades of experience in the field, but she was more than prepared for what she was about to face. And she felt it was an offense that he would doubt her and her preparation after he had been her mentor for the past five years.
"I think you should do the surgery," she said, rinsing off her arms.
"Why?" Derek's voice sounded much more irritated than before.
"Because we're not a team right now."
Derek paused to calm himself. He didn't want his anger to ruin this important moment in her career.
"What happens if the aneurysm ruptures?" he asked after a few seconds, pretending that the previous conversation hadn't happened.
"Put a temporary clip on the feeding artery," Meredith replied.
"And if the aneurysm still bleeds?"
"I gain control of the common carotid in the neck."
"What kind of clip are you gonna go with?"
"I won't know till I get in there."
Derek nodded.
"You're ready. Let's go," he said, pulling his arms from the water and carefully turning to enter the operating room. She followed him, and the team began preparing them to start.
~•~
"Okay, I've isolated the aneurysm. I can see the whole neck," Meredith said, pulling her gaze from the microscope. The surgery had been going on for about forty-five minutes, and Rob's skull was open.
Carefully, she picked up one of the steel clips from the surgical tray, and Derek quickly turned around, looking at her in confusion.
"What is that?" he asked.
"It's an angled seven millimeter."
"I'd go smaller, use a straight one."
"No," she replied, very sure of the decision she was making.
"No?" Derek repeated, indignant at her audacity. "You only get one shot at this. Use a smaller clip," he said in a firm tone.
"I may need the extra length."
"You could hit one of the perforators."
"Not if I look where I'm going."
"Put. The clip. Down." Derek's gaze was fixed firmly on Meredith as if his authoritative tone would make her obey him.
She ignored him and focused her gaze back on the surgical microscope.
"Use the five millimeters!" Derek insisted, now much angrier than before.
"I'm looking right at it, Derek. You have to trust me."
"No, I've done it hundreds of times. Use a smaller clip!"
Meredith, not listening to him, placed the steel clip around the neck of the aneurysm, stopping the blood supply.
"Damn it!" Derek shouted, losing the little patience he had that day. But she didn't back down.
"Okay, I'm gonna do the matador move. Can I have the needle and the Penfield retractor?"
One of the nurses passed her the instruments, and Meredith carefully leaned back over Rob's brain.
"I've got the suction," Derek murmured.
"Okay, everyone, stop," Meredith requested.
Meredith inserted the needle and carefully punctured the dome of the aneurysm. Everyone in the room watched her with fear, praying that the clip would hold and not burst.
"Okay. It's holding. Holding perfectly," Meredith breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, suction, please."
After making sure everything had gone well in the procedure, Meredith started closing up with staples, while Derek kept glaring at her in anger. Inside, he was boiling with fury. She had done it again, once more.
Once she finished, the entire surgical team began to applaud, and among those applause and congratulations, Meredith simply turned to look at Derek, who was the only one not applauding.
He just stared at her, motionless, with disappointment pouring from his eyes.
~•~
Upon leaving the operating room, Derek went to change in his office before leaving. The day had been much harder than he had imagined, and he didn't want to spend another minute in the hospital.
"Derek..." Meredith appeared in the doorway before he could leave.
"Not now."
"Can we talk about what happened last night?"
"Not now, I said."
"Last night you said you wanted to get back together, and today you've avoided me all day! What the hell's wrong with you?"
Derek opened his mouth in surprise at those words he clearly didn't remember saying. Damn. Damn Scotch.
"We should never have been in that OR together today," Meredith murmured with disappointment.
"What do you mean?"
"We're not a team, anywhere. We need to figure out if we can be one, if we can even be together. So now's the time to say how you feel."
Derek sighed in anger. He didn't know what his past self had done, but clearly, he had said too much to put himself in this situation.
"I can't," he said after a moment. "I'm gonna say things that are..."
"Oh, Derek, just say it!" she interrupted impatiently. "Whatever it is, we can deal with it. I can accept the consequences."
Derek closed the door to his office and turned to her.
"Look, Meredith, you have never accepted a consequence in your life," he exclaimed with a hint of disdain in his voice. "Since the moment you switched those files, you haven't suffered one bit."
"That is not true..." she murmured.
"While those around you have lost their jobs and lost their reputations!" he shouted, increasingly angry.
"And I lost you..."
"So did I!" he yelled. "Because you do things... Without a thought, you just dive in and never give a damn how deep the water is or who you're gonna land on."
"I know I messed up... but I've learned. Don't you think I've changed?"
"I don't think you can change, Meredith. You ruined the chance to save thousands of lives. You ruined my chance to save thousands of lives."
"Oh. I already told you why I did that. What do you need, for me to say I'm sorry?"
"I need you to be sorry!"
"Of course I'm sorry," she insisted.
"You did it again today in the OR!"
"What? I had a successful surgery today."
"You refused to listen to me!"
"I didn't listen to you because I didn't need to listen to you. I knew what I was doing and I was right. You just couldn't trust me."
"Why should I ever trust you? Why should I trust you? You ended my trial, you set back my career, you nearly ended your own, you destroyed Richard's. I have no reason to trust you!"
"Well, then why did you say you wanted to be with me?"
"I don't know. I don't even remember why I said it, okay? I don't know."
"Did you just use me last night?"
"Meredith, no. God."
"Then?"
"I guess part of me knows why I said what I said. And I meant it," he lied, not really having any idea why he had said it. "It's just that... I don't know what's going on with me..." he said, collapsing exhausted onto the sofa in his office. She followed him.
"Do you remember the note we wrote on the Post-it? Do you remember what we promised?"
Oh, maybe that had been what he said. Their wedding vows. Or whatever that post-it was.
"I promised I wouldn't run away..." Derek said, recalling. "I promised I wouldn't run. I promised I would love you…"
"Even when you hate me..."
"Even when I hate you. I know. I'm trying, Meredith. I'm trying, but you make it so damn hard."
"I understand. And I don't want you to keep the promise, not if you don't want to, and not if you can't trust me."
Derek remained silent for a minute, trying to understand what was happening. Part of him, maybe a stupidly drunken part, still loved her. Because he knew that there were still reasons for Meredith to love her. Reasons that didn't disappear despite the mistakes she'd made.
"I know that you altered the trial for Adele and for Richard…" he said. "You stood in front of a bullet for me. I know why you do all of it. It's what I love about you."
"And what you hate about me."
"Yeah."
There was an awkward moment of silence where both of them were thinking about what they had just said.
"So, you can't trust me at work?" she was the first to break that silence.
"No. I can't," he admitted.
"Well, that's easy, then. So we just don't work together."
"So what are you saying?"
"I'm off your service. That's my consequence. If we want to stay together, we just can't work together."
Derek remained silent as he watched her leave the room. After having lost all hope with Addison, maybe that was the best –and only– option he had at that moment...