The gummy—and not glamorous at all—sound of Addison's Crocs squeaking down the halls of St. Ambrose mixed with the murmurs of people coming and going, yet she seemed to be hearing nothing.

After tossing the pregnancy test in the bathroom trash can, the chaos around her blurred her perception. She walked quickly, ignoring the curious glances from patients and staff, focused solely on getting to the lab, which was on the opposite wing of the hospital.

Amelia was a few steps behind her, trying to keep up but failing miserably. Addison had always walked fast, and now that she was truly in a hurry, she seemed unreachable.

"Addison, calm down!" Amelia complained, dodging a stretcher-bearer wheeling a patient to the X-ray room.

From what little she had overheard, there had been a car accident on Santa Monica Boulevard at 18th Street, and the injured were being brought there, turning the emergency room into total chaos.

"Addison!" she shouted again.

"I need an urgent blood test. I don't trust that test; it could be faulty," she replied without stopping or turning around.

The rational part of Addison knew that pregnancy tests had a higher than 97% accuracy rate. However, her experience as a doctor had taught her that things weren't always as they seemed at first glance and that exceptions could always exist. Or rather, life had taught her that she could always be the exception.

She experienced absurd situations that seemed to happen to no one else. For instance, wetting her pants the first time she tried weed at a college party and getting stuck in a closet all night until the host's brother realized that she had started crying uncontrollably, fearing she would suffocate.

Or getting electrocuted on her first day of residency for not stepping back in time from a patient when they were giving him electrical shocks during resuscitation, and having to spend her entire first shift hospitalized.

Or having an allergic reaction in her vagina to poison ivy due to living in a trailer the size of a sardine can, situated in the middle of the woods because her ex-husband thought it was a good idea to distance himself from civilization.

Or finding in her ex-husband's coat pocket the underwear of the fourteen-year-old intern he was sleeping with, the reason he had left her. Almost as shocking as opening the guest room door in her own house and discovering at the age of forty-two that her mother was a lesbian, and that her lover was her personal assistant whom she had known for thirty years; and that her parents' marriage had been a complete sham, because the one she thought was the unfaithful one, her father, had ended up being the victim.

Oh, and her favorite, the ridiculously absurd fact that she was an obstetrician-gynecologist, and neonatal/fetal surgeon who spent almost twenty years surrounded by babies and pregnant women, yet couldn't get pregnant. Because she couldn't. She knew that was nearly impossible, which was why the result of that home test wasn't trustworthy.

"The two lines are perfectly marked; I don't think it was a mistake," Amelia insisted, reading the back of the box of the test she had swiped from a hospital supply closet, "sit down for a second to process the ne-…"

"You know what else can cause the two lines to appear? Hormonal imbalances. I need a comprehensive hormone test."

"No, what you need is to stop running like that. You could trip, or someone could hit you… Woop!" she exclaimed, dodging a nurse rushing by with a pile of medical supplies, "Addison!"

But Addison ignored her and kept walking. For a moment, she had thought about going to the practice's laboratory and having her sister-in-law help her with the extraction, but she knew Sam might still be attending to patients at that hour, and that any move she made there, or any results she obtained, could be discovered by him or one of his colleagues. And she didn't want that. Not until she knew for herself what was happening.

Once she was in front of the hospital lab door, she entered and waved for Amelia to follow her.

"Hey, Alice," Addison greeted, her voice still shaky, "sorry for the interruption. Wow, a lot of people, huh?"

"Dr. Montgomery," replied the lab technician, diverting her gaze from the microscope to look at her, "how can I help you?"

"I need you to take a blood sample from me."

"Excuse me, a sample from you?" She furrowed her brow, unsure if she had heard correctly.

"Yes. Can you do it?" she asked, a bit anxiously. She felt bad for interrupting her at this time of the afternoon amidst the chaos of the hospital, but she couldn't wait until the next day to get the test done.

"Okay," she said almost without hesitation, "please head to the extraction room."

Addison nodded and sat on the stretcher while Alice looked for the necessary instruments for the extraction. If she had been an ordinary person, she would have asked for a medical order before agreeing to take the sample, but since Addison was one of the hospital's most reputable doctors, she simply agreed to do it.

In a matter of minutes, Alice extracted blood from Addison's arm while Amelia stood beside the stretcher, watching. She hadn't said a single word the entire time, but she couldn't help but bite her lower lip in impatience.

"Okay, what's this for...?" Alice asked while writing Addison's name on the vacutainer tube label.

"Complete blood count," she replied, applying pressure to the cotton on her vein. Alice raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Actually, I just need qualitative and quantitative beta-hCG, prolactin, TSH, T3, T4, LH, FSH, cortisol, estrogens, and progesterone. Urgently."

Amelia rolled her eyes; her sister-in-law was being overly dramatic.

"Sorry, but those results take 24 to 72 hours..." Alice said.

Of course, Addison knew that. Hormonal tests require more time for preparation and processing than others. However, the anxiety she felt clouded her medical judgment.

"Oh... okay, then just do the qualitative and quantitative beta-hCG for now, I can wait for the rest of the results."

"If the hormone is detected in the blood, the quantitative result takes at least two hours…"

"Okay. I can wait here. Can you do it? Please," she said impatiently, "I can pay extra for that."

"Actually, the only thing she needs is a paper saying she's pregnant," Amelia interrupted, making Addison turn to her, indignantly.

"Can you stop saying things that aren't true?!" Addison complained, embarrassed. "I need to rule that out urgently," she said, turning back to the lab technician.

"I'll have the results as soon as possible, Dr. Montgomery…" she replied, somewhat uncomfortable with the situation.

"Thank you, Alice. I'll be here at the hospital waiting. Please... keep it discreet."

Alice nodded, and Addison and Amelia left the lab in silence.

"Wanna go to the cafeteria for something to eat?" Amelia suggested, seeing how Addison collapsed onto the waiting room chairs, exhausted. The clock on her wrist read twenty to eight in the evening, and her stomach was starting to growl.

"Not hungry."

"They just took blood from you, and you've been here almost all day without eating. You know you have to eat something for the ba-…"

"Don't you dare say it," Addison interrupted, silencing her with a glare.

Amelia sighed and sat down next to her.

~•~

A few weeks had passed since Meredith had quit neurosurgery.

While that was her favorite specialty, she had been willing to give it up for Derek. In a way, it felt like a fair trade after everything he had lost because of her.

He, for his part, had silently accepted that agreement, offering no resistance to her decision. If that was the price she was willing to pay for her actions, he would respect it.

The problem was that after resigning from neuro, she really didn't know which new specialty she should choose. So she had been reassigned to different specialties to fulfill her residency, and throughout April, obstetrics and gynecology was one of those rotations.

Despite receiving constant teasing from Cristina and Alex for joining the "Vagina Squad," she was okay with the specialty. It might not be her favorite, but at least it gave her the comfort of knowing she was still connected to the hospital environment. And most importantly, it allowed her to maintain her relationship with Derek.

"Hey," Meredith smiled, approaching Derek as he just arrived.

"Hey," he returned the smile and walked over to the nurses' station.

"Did you come from the woods?"

"Yeah."

"What are you starting with today?" she asked, trying to ignore the fact that he hadn't even kissed her on the cheek or shown the slightest enthusiasm to her.

"Laminectomy," he replied, not looking at her. He didn't want to see her.

Maybe it was silly, but it bothered him to see her in the pink scrubs of obstetrics and gynecology. And not just because he had anything against those specialties, but because those were Addison's specialties. That was Addison's color.

For a large part of their professional lives in New York, those two colors had represented the two of them: Addison was salmon pink, Derek was navy blue. Pink and blue. AddisonAndDerek.

Even when they were younger—and more excited about it—they had made a game out of colors. Besides her uniform, Addison's pager and stethoscope were pink, and his were blue. Her portfolio and planner were pink, his were blue. Their breakfast mugs, toothbrushes, slippers, keychains, soaps, perfumes, bathrobes, and many other everyday objects, were pink and blue, respectively. And of course, they placed them together.

When they went out to important galas or family dinners, she would wear at least a subtle detail in pink; whether it was her earrings, makeup, or nails, her jewelry, shoes, or clothes; and he would wear something in blue. Sometimes they even exchanged gifts, she would give him a small pink detail for him to wear, and he would give her something blue in return. Even the Christmas cards they sent to their families were signed with a pink heart and a blue one.

It was fun. As stereotypical and cliché as that color combination was, they liked it. At least in the first few years of marriage...

But MeredithAndDerek didn't have those colors. She had always been sky blue, and he was navy blue. And while he knew she would soon stop wearing the sky blue of the residents, he hoped the scrubs she wore would be navy blue. Not pink. He hoped they would be a couple of neurosurgeons instead of repeating the previous dynamic. Well, if it could be repeated. Because he doubted Meredith would do all the specialties Addison had done.

"Are you doing it open or endoscopically?" Meredith continued to ask, seeing that he was ignoring her.

"You know what?" Derek turned around and looked at her directly, annoyed. "I'm not gonna keep doing this."

"What?" she asked, confused.

"Every day when I arrive, you ask me what I'm doing for the day, what's happening in the neuro department, how the patients are. I'm not gonna do this. You're the one who left neuro."

"I know."

"Well, I'm not gonna keep doing this every morning while you're sad about every case I have."

"I'm not sad. I'm trying to start a conversation," she replied, annoyed.

"Okay, well... make conversation about something else."

Meredith fell silent, watching as Derek took the medical records the head nurse handed him and turned away without even saying goodbye. He said everything was fine between them, but... was it? He barely tolerated her.

In the last few weeks, they had seen each other very few times, and even though they were back to being boyfriend and girlfriend—or husband and wife, depending on who you asked—they hadn't had intimacy since last month, that time he got drunk and went to her house.

Derek hadn't wanted to move back into her house. She hadn't asked him to, either. She didn't feel in a position to demand anything of him. She had come to accept that their relationship had transformed into a delicate dance, where both seemed to avoid stepping on each other's toes. However, she was surprised that he preferred to stay in Mark's apartment or the trailer next to the construction site rather than be with her.

Because yes, Derek had called his contractor again, and they had resumed construction on their dream house in the woods, which had been paused when they separated.

Every afternoon, after a long day at the hospital, he would head to the site and try to vent his frustration by erecting walls and the deck. Hammering, measuring, sanding, cutting, and assembling wood had become his new pastime, his refuge. In the sound of the axe against the wood, in the dust of the place, he found a way to escape.

There, surrounded by the tranquility of the woods, he managed to forget the thoughts that tormented him, blow off steam from work problems, calm his mind, and most importantly, not think about Addison. Or Meredith. And, at that precise moment, not think about Alex Karev, whom he wanted to kill after what he had done a few days prior in the OR.

Alex had taken on the role of the assigned resident after Meredith's resignation, but he left much to be desired. His lack of interest in neurosurgery and his lack of dedication in the OR deeply irritated Derek.

Two days ago, during one of the critical interventions where he was supposed to be the lead surgeon, Derek had watched helplessly as Karev arrived late, with a casual attitude that contrasted with the gravity of the moment. He made excuses, saying he had a medical appointment, and once the patient's spine was fully open, giving them a perfect view of the spinal cord—wonderful in Derek's eyes—he simply didn't care. He just looked at the wall clock, wanting to finish as soon as possible and complete as many surgeries in each specialty before finishing his fifth year of residency.

Actually, the situation bothered him not only because of the resident's indifference and irresponsibility but also because he was constantly comparing him to Meredith and expecting him to act the same way she did. Simply put, it frustrated him that Karev wasn't Meredith.

After five years of working side by side with her in the operating room, he had developed a deep understanding that he now felt disturbed. The art of neurosurgery became a struggle when he was forced to rely on someone who didn't comprehend even half of what Meredith had learned with him. He felt that Karev was a poor substitute, unable to offer him the connection and intimacy that their professional—and personal—collaboration had always implied. Because they had been an incredible team, and that team no longer existed.

And every time he remembered why that team was no longer there, he needed to go hammering boards in the woods.

"Callie and Arizona went to a convention out of town. Sofia's all ours for three days," Mark said, reaching Derek once he stepped away from Meredith. He was holding the eight-month-old baby in his arms.

"Okay. Are you telling me to buy earplugs or to sleep in the trailer?"

"Screw you."

Derek laughed, gently stroking the baby's cheek, who quickly returned her uncle's smile, showing off the four little teeth that had come in.

At that moment, Owen Hunt walked by them and nodded in greeting, without stopping to chat. He had both hands full of several folders packed with papers, while he held his cell phone to his ear with his right shoulder. He was talking to someone on the other line.

"Look at him, acting like he runs the place," Mark squinted, feeling a twinge of envy inside. The news of Owen being the new chief hadn't sat well with him.

"Well, he does."

"He's hanging on by his teeth. It's undignified. Hunt's not cut out for the job."

"What, did something happen?"

"Nothing happened. You can see it in his demeanor. He's got fear in his eyes. He's only good for decorating military offices."

"Uhm."

"I'm just sayin' when he belly flops, I'm here for the hospital."

"Okay."

Sofia grabbed her father's nose with her little hand, quickly making him forget about Hunt.

"How's Meredith handling OB/GYN?" Mark asked, pretending to bite the baby's hand that was now in his mouth. "I heard she's rotating there this month."

"I need Avery in my surgery this afternoon," Derek replied, completely ignoring his friend's question.

"What? No. He's my guy."

"I don't have residents. Karev's an ass; I kicked him out of my service, Yang's with Altman, Kepner with Hunt, Lexie left town…"

"Wait, Lexie left? Where to?"

"To visit Mollie."

"Why? What happened? Did she break up with Jackson?"

"You care? I'm telling you I need a resident. You know what? Forget it, I'll take him anyway," he said as he moved toward the elevator. Mark followed him.

"Did Meredith say anything about Lexie?"

"No. I haven't talked to her," he pressed the button.

"I don't get it, you say you're back together but you're never with her. You never talk to her. You never know anything about her. Are you really back together or is that what you say to forget about Addison?"

The elevator doors opened and Derek stepped in, pretending he hadn't heard the last thing his friend said. Mark sighed in frustration and turned away, heading to the daycare to drop off Sofia.

~•~

"Forbes Montgomery, Addison A.

Beta-Human Chorionic Gonadotropin: positive.

hCG Beta Subunit quantified

Units: 131067 mUI/mL."

"You're pregnant!" Amelia laughed, looking up from the paper Addison was holding. After waiting nearly three hours in the laboratory waiting room, Alice had finally handed over the envelope with the results.

"Damn. The hCG levels are too high," Addison murmured with a worried face, ignoring her sister-in-law's joy.

"Is that bad?" she asked amid nervous laughter, not understanding the magnitude of the situation.

"Those levels correspond to a fetus that's at least eight or nine weeks along. This must be a mistake."

"Why would it be a mistake?"

"A nine-week fetus is the size of a cherry!" she exclaimed, making a circle with her hands, bringing her index finger and thumb together to show the approximate size. "Do you think I wouldn't notice if I had a cherry in my uterus?!"

"Well, I don't know..."

"I know my body. I'd know perfectly from minute one if I were pregnant. And I'm not. This is not a fetus."

Amelia grimaced, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

"Okay, the first stage is denial."

"I'm not!" Addison repeated indignantly, "I'm not. I have a tumor that produces hCG!"

Amelia raised an eyebrow, disbelief etched on her face as she countered her sister-in-law's rapid thoughts.

"That's a rather dismissive way to refer to a baby, don't you think?" she said with irony.

"I need to get an ultrasound urgently. It could be in the uterus or the ovaries... it could... Oh my God, it's a dysgerminoma. I have cancer!"

"Addison, for God's sake, you don't have cancer. Stop dramatizing and... Hey, where are you going?!" she asked as she saw her quickly get up from the seat towards the exit.

"Do you have your car keys? Mine are in my locker, in my bag, and..."

"Where do you wanna go?" she asked again, somewhat confused.

"To my office, I need to get an ultrasound, and with the number of people in the ER, I'd have to wait hours here."

"Oh, come on. It's almost eleven at night. The practice closed a few hours ago."

"I know, I'm not stupid," she complained. "The security people will let me in if I say I forgot something in my office. Are you gonna go with me or just contradict everything I say? Because if that's the case, I have to go up to the locker room to get my stuff and keep wasting time when I should be starting chemo!" she exclaimed angrily.

Amelia rolled her eyes and sighed in resignation. Addison was clearly out of her mind that day, and it made no sense to argue with her.

"I have the key."

~•~

The surgery with Jackson Avery had been longer than expected, but completely successful.

Derek had been surprised by Jackson's performance. During his work that afternoon, he had shown himself to be a surgeon with outstanding technical skills and an extraordinary ability to learn and imitate subtle movements. Although he primarily worked with Mark in plastics, his surgical expertise was evident and applicable to other specialties like neuro.

That's why, as they were scrubbed in after the surgery, he had approached him to congratulate him again.

"Excellent control with the epidural vein, Avery. I'm surprised you never considered neuro," Derek said, taking a towel to dry his arms.

"Thanks, Dr. Shepherd. I think I'll start considering it... in fact, is there any chance I could work with you again? I mean, these days."

"I like your initiative. Tomorrow I have surgery to correct a spinal arteriovenous malformation in a 30-year-old man. Do you want to participate?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for this, by the way. I know Sloan's my boss, and he's your friend.

I wouldn't want to overstep. Not that I ever get a chance to overstep with him. Since he has me on training wheels, which is fine most days, except… When I get home, and it turns out that my girlfriend, who is a fourth year, has done more surgery than me. Then she asks me how my day went, and the answer is, 'Great, sweetheart. I just spent the last nine hours standing around watching your ex operate'."

Derek laughed, shaking his head. Yes, he knew Mark tended to be like that with residents.

"Tomorrow, 9:00 a.m. AVM surgery, OR 2."

"I'm scheduled for surgery with Sloan at that time..."

"Oh, okay. Think about it. I'll tell my secretary to send you the scans and the patient's medical history anyway."

Jackson nodded, and Derek left the scrub room. As he walked toward his office, his phone beeped, notifying him of a new message in his inbox. He picked it up and, seeing the screen, read the name Meredith.

"Have dinner plans? We could meet before my shift starts."

Derek sighed with a bit of annoyance. No, he didn't have plans, but he also didn't want to see her that day. And he didn't want to say it rudely or cruelly, so he chose not to respond. He simply turned off the device and put it back in his pocket.

Once he got to his office, he changed out of his scrubs and gathered his belongings to leave, but just as he was by the door, about to turn off the light switch, Mark rushed in.

"I need you to do a CT scan on Sofia," he said, appearing suddenly pushing Sofia towards him on a gurney.

"What's wrong with her?"

"This morning I was talking to her mothers while I was changing her on the living room couch, and suddenly she... disappeared. I don't even know how I turned around for a second to grab her pajamas, and she was just gone! She fell onto the carpet and rolled under the couch."

"Did she hit her head?" Derek asked, furrowing his brow with concern.

"I don't know. I feel like something's wrong with her. I wanna rule out a concussion or some kind of head injury."

"Did you notice her disoriented or having trouble moving? Drowsy?" he asked, taking out his flashlight to examine the girl's pupils.

"No, no."

"Vomiting? Bleeding or clear fluid from the nose or ears?"

"No, none of that."

"Was she crying?"

"No, that's the problem. She hasn't cried for ten straight hours!"

"Then the carpet must have cushioned the fall. She's fine." Derek turned off the light and closed the door to his office.

"Can you at least check her? If I tell someone from peds to do it, they'll call Arizona!"

Derek nodded and they went to the exam room, where he quickly performed a cranial ultrasound and a general evaluation on the little girl.

"Everything is fine."

"Maybe there's something you're not seeing. I kept her awake all day, and I feel like she's slower than usual. Less active."

"Maybe it's because you didn't let her take her nap and she's tired from that."

"You should do a CT scan, Derek," he insisted.

"That's not necessary. Do you see this here?" he said, pointing at the screen, "it's a completely normal and healthy brain of a perfectly healthy baby. Sofia is fine."

"Then why hasn't she cried?" he asked worriedly as he held her in his arms.

"Maybe it's because she likes you and enjoys being with you."

"For you to say that is a compliment to me," Mark smiled, gently rocking the baby, who was starting to close her eyes from sleepiness.

"You're a good dad, Mark. Really. Sofia adores you," Derek said, turning off the ultrasound monitor.

"You know... I always thought that out of the two of us, you'd be the responsible father and I'd be... well, Mark. Uncle Mark who would spoil your kids and teach them to say bad words and eat candy secretly, half an hour before dinner."

Derek shook his head. He would be lying if he said he hadn't imagined that too.

"Well, you're also a grandpa."

"That didn't need to be brought up."

They both laughed and left the office, walking toward the hospital exit.

"Have plans for tonight? Are you going to Meredith's?" Mark asked.

"No. She has a shift today."

"Oh, then you want me to order pizza for dinner?"

"I think... I'll spend the night at the construction site."

"Oh, come on. Is it because of Sofia? She'll sleep all night," he said, pointing to the baby who had already fallen asleep in his arms.

"No... it's just that... you know. I want to finish the deck."

"Okay, I get it. You're gonna do the work your contractor should be doing."

Derek gave a small, tired smile.

"You should come hammering someday..."

"Pass. I'm a grandpa."

~•~

"How I love being at work at eleven o'clock at night," Amelia complained, walking behind her sister-in-law through the dark hallways of the practice.

Just as Addison had told her, once they arrived, she asked the security guard if they could go into her office to look for something. The man, who had known her for four years, was aware that she was the girlfriend of one of the owners, so he had no problem letting them through.

"I could sleep on the couch in your office," Amelia continued, "and tomorrow when everyone starts to arrive, I'll just get up and start seeing my patients. Because there's nothing I like more than living at work. In fact, I could move in here. I love the blinds; they trap all the sunlight and my will to live."

"If you want to go home, go. I'll take a taxi later," Addison replied irritably as she entered the exam room and turned on the ultrasound machine.

Amelia sighed heavily as she settled into the chair next to the monitor. The fatigue was evident in her features, and hunger echoed in her stomach. However, the idea of leaving her sister at this moment, when anxiety and doubts enveloped her, was not an option.

Addison lay back on the exam table and lifted her shirt just enough to expose her abdomen. She was still wearing the turquoise scrubs she had used in Claudine's surgery. That had been that very morning, but it felt like days had gone by.

With trembling hands from nerves, she took the gel, applied some, and once she spread it well over the area, she picked up the transducer. Amelia slightly turned the monitor so that they could see at the same time.

"Okay... here we go..." said Addison, taking a deep breath before starting.

As soon as she placed the transducer on her belly, the image of a small figure appeared almost instantly on the screen, causing Addison to flinch slightly in surprise.

Without a doubt, it was a fetus. Its shape resembled a small bean, with a disproportionately large head compared to the rest of its body, and its little limbs, although still short and thin, were clearly visible.

"Well, I don't think tumors have little arms and legs..." Amelia smiled, turning to see her sister-in-law's face.

"No..." her voice cracked, filled with emotion. "It's a fetus. It's... oh my God."

"Addie, you're gonna be a mom!"

Addison covered her mouth with her hand as tears streamed down her cheeks one after another. She had seen that kind of black-and-white images for decades, yet this time it was nothing like the others. This time it was hers. And if she weren't holding the transducer herself, she wouldn't have believed it.

"I'm gonna be an aunt!" Amelia stood up from the chair and hugged her, unable to contain the joy she felt for her.

The thought of being an aunt again, this time to her favorite sister's child, filled her with happiness. She knew how much Addison had wanted this and how much she had suffered for it. If there was anyone in this world who deserved to have a baby, it was clearly her. And there was nothing more beautiful than witnessing her dreams come true.

"And I hope you let me be the godmother, huh? I was the first to notice," Amelia joked as she pulled away from the embrace.

Addison didn't speak, she just cried. She cried and smiled. Tears fell one after another down her cheeks, tracing the curve of her smile. The emotion overflowed. How could it not? Against all odds of infertility, there was a little life growing inside her. A small miracle she thought would never happen to her.

Once she managed to calm down and control her tears, the obstetrician within her urged her to ensure everything was developing correctly. She resumed holding the transducer and now more calmly began to examine each part of the baby's body in more detail.

"Its limbs are still very small, but you can already easily distinguish two buds on each side, which will be its arms and legs..." Addison started to explain in a sweet voice as Amelia kept her fascinated gaze on the screen.

"And it has one head!" Amelia joked, making Addison laugh. She had always said if she ever had a baby, it would come out with two heads.

"One head... where you can already see the developing brain hemispheres, you see? There are already two symmetrical areas."

"The smallest and cutest brain I've ever seen."

"And a little further down, we have... its heart," she smiled again at the sight of the blood pumping in that tiny little heart, "you can see that it's beating, but I still want to check the rhythm..."

Addison turned up the volume on the transducer, and it began to emit the sound waves of the fetus's heartbeat. The beats were fast and steady, echoing throughout the room, making them aware that it was alive and full of energy.

"160 beats per minute. Beating correctly," Addison smiled, wiping away more tears that had escaped.

Then, continuing with the routine check-ups, Addison took the transducer again and, using the ultrasound mouse, measured the distance from the top of the fetus's head to the lowest part of its buttocks to determine the gestational age.

"The craniocaudal length is 32 millimeters… these measurements correspond to about nine weeks…"

"Well, it is the size of a cherry!" Amelia joked, making them both laugh.

But suddenly, that smile on Addison's face faded and a veil of worry covered her expression.

"Nine weeks. No way..." her voice trailed off, and concern washed over her, darkening the joy she had felt just a moment before.

"What's wrong? What did you see?"

Addison fell silent for a second, making Amelia start to worry. She knew little to nothing about obstetrics, and she felt unable to discern whether there was a problem with that tiny being on the screen.

"Oh shit..." Addison murmured, leaving the transducer in place with a frustrated gesture.

"What's wrong? Is there something wrong?" Amelia's voice rose, and panic began to settle in her chest. "You're scaring me!"

"This can't be happening to me. It has... it has to be a mistake... Damn it!"

Amelia, seeing the distress on her face, stood up from the chair and firmly grasped her shoulders.

"Addison, you're freaking me out! Stop saying it's a mistake, damn it! You know perfectly well that it isn't. You're pregnant, here's your baby, you're seeing it with your own eyes. It's not a mistake! There's no mistake, damn it!" he shouted nervously, releasing everything she had built up during the afternoon.

"I just need it to be a mistake..." she murmured shamefully, taking a paper napkin to clean the gel off her belly.

"Why do you say that?" Amelia asked, seeing how a new shadow of distress crossed Addison's face. Her eyes were again filling with tears, and not precisely from joy.

"Because nine weeks ago I was with Derek."

In fact, that could also make the list of "Absurd things that only happen to Addison Montgomery."