Supposedly, during the process of accepting a shocking event, individuals go through a path of five stages. And Addison, in the first week following her discovery of her pregnancy, had experienced all of them.
The first stage, just as Amelia had described, was denial. Addison was unwilling to accept that she was pregnant and sought any possible excuse to justify it. It wasn't a matter of stubbornness, nor was it because she didn't want it; rather, in her mind, the possibility of this happening spontaneously did not exist. Much less that the baby could be Derek's, with whom she had only had a fleeting encounter.
This notion clashed starkly with common sense. It felt as though the entire situation was a bad joke. Sam, with whom she had been involved repeatedly over the past few weeks, had far greater chances of being the father of the baby than Derek. Yet, life seemed intent on punishing her for having been unfaithful just days after her mother's death.
After reviewing her calendar, she was able to confirm that the last menstruation marked there had occurred in early February. It made sense that she would be ovulating in mid-February, just when she was in Connecticut. More precisely, on February 13, the very day of Bizzy's burial, when she and Derek had spent the night together.
She immediately moved on to the next stage, anger. She was infuriated by the fact that Derek had gotten her pregnant. After exploiting her vulnerable state, after hurting her with insults and a myriad of offensive words, after leaving marks and hickeys all over her chest that took weeks to fade, after taking her bra, was he going to get her pregnant too? Son of a bitch!
It was his fault she had spent the entire week feeling unwell, vomiting day and night. Because morning sickness was not as "morning" as it was said to be. It lasted all day, at all hours, in every place, and appeared for any reason: a smell, a food, a sudden movement, someone's perfume from meters away, the sound of someone chewing, the texture of food, or sometimes without any apparent reason. Everything caused her nausea, and each time she faced the toilet, all she could think about was how much she hated him.
Yet amid her hatred, when her stomach granted her a reprieve, she entered the next stage, negotiation. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he were the father of the baby. Of all the men with whom she had been involved, he was the best candidate and the one she knew the most.
Derek had always loved children, and children loved him. They had a special connection. His charisma and playful nature established an immediate bond with the little ones, making him the favorite uncle of his nephews and nieces.
His ability to immerse himself in the child's world was enviable. He was funny, clever, and multifaceted. He could easily adapt to the ages and preferences of each child, ensuring that everyone had a great time. He could play basketball with teenagers in the yard, teach them to juggle, or race toy cars with the littlest ones; and even without any issue, host a tea party with the girls, allowing them to paint his nails, style his hair, or dress him as a princess.
He was protective. He always made sure that everyone was comfortable and safe. Under his attentive care, no room was left for slip-ups. There would never be a child with untied shoelaces in front of him, nor would anyone go without warm clothing during the slightest temperature drop, nor would they be without sunscreen on their face, or a hat and a drink in the summer.
He was patient. With the littlest ones, he became a gentle teacher, tenderly showing them how to do things for the first time. And with the often rebellious and reluctant teenagers, he remained calm, offering his companionship and unconditional listening. No matter how many times the excuses or refusals were repeated; he stayed steadfast, always ready to offer his support without judgment, understanding that each phase of life has its own struggle.
Derek had always wanted to be a father, even long before Addison began to question its possibility. He had always dreamed of a large family, with two or three babies, and unlike Sam...
Oh, right. The stage of sadness. Sadness and guilt. Sam would be far from pleased with the news.
He didn't want another baby. They had discussed it several times, and he had always been opposed to the idea of starting over with another child. He had done it sixteen years ago with Maya, and now even with Olivia, his little granddaughter whom he occasionally cared for.
He didn't want another baby with Addison. And he would never want another man's baby in the midst of them. She feared that their relationship would cease to exist once he found out. She was afraid that he would leave her...
She wasn't ready to lose him at that moment. Not when things between them were finally getting better. But could she do anything? The mistake had already been made. The baby already existed.
After an intense week, Addison finally arrived at acceptance. She accepted that she was pregnant, that she would become a mother in less than seven months, and that Derek would be the father of that baby. And there was nothing she could do to change it.
"I know Derek's an idiot, but you have to tell him, Addie," Amelia said, placing a pillow behind her sister's back.
It was six-thirty in the morning, and both were lying in Addison's bed. Amelia had read that elevating the upper body with pillows helped reduce heartburn and nausea, which, by the way, were more intense than ever that morning.
"Oh, right now I'll send him a text saying, 'Hey, Derek, how's the weather over there in Seattle? Is it still pouring? Remember my mother's funeral? Well, you got me pregnant. Regards.'" Addison mocked sarcastically.
"He has the right to know," Amelia said seriously, causing Addison to let out a resigned sigh.
Of course she was going to tell him. Despite not having ended on the best of terms with Derek, she would never hide something as important as a baby from him. She would never deprive him of his right to be a father. She simply didn't want to think about it now, when she couldn't go more than half an hour without throwing up the contents of her stomach.
"I'll tell him... it's just that first I have to tell Sam... and... God, we were doing well, you know? Yes, maybe sometimes the situation was a bit awkward at first, but... we were doing well," she repeated with a hint of sadness in her voice.
"Having a baby with Derek doesn't mean you have to end things with Sam."
Addison let out a sarcastic laugh. If only it were that simple.
"You say that because you don't know him. Ugh," she complained, trying to get up from the bed but feeling dizzy in the attempt.
"Hey, stay still."
"I can't; I wanna take advantage that Sam's operating at St. Ambrose to go to the practice a little earlier to get a blood sample."
"Another one? You had blood drawn last week."
"I'm ten weeks along; it's the right time to start performing non-invasive genetic studies. I have a geriatric pregnancy, also known as miraculous. I need to rule out trisomies, chromosomal anomalies, microdeletion anomalies, sexual anomalies as soon as possible..."
"I thought you didn't wanna go to the lab at the practice for fear they'd find out about your pregnancy..." she said, helping her stand up from the bed.
"I didn't want to. But I thought I could put my samples under a false name and do the follow-up myself. I have a genetics fellowship; I see this all the time with my patients. Who would suspect it was mine? No one."
"Addison, you can't be your own OB. You need someone to follow your pregnancy."
"Pardon? I'm one of the best obstetricians in the country. My patients come from all over the States just to be treated by me and entrust the lives of their children to me. Why couldn't I monitor the development of my own baby?"
"Because it's neither ethical nor viable. Your judgment wouldn't be objective with your own child."
"That's your opinion."
Addison walked over to her wardrobe and took a short-sleeved purple dress that reached just above her knee.
"Will you also attend your own delivery?"
"I could do it; why not? I know several positions from which I could catch the baby with my hands."
"And if it's a C-section? How will you take the scalpel and separate the tissue layers while lying on your back with half of your body anesthetized?"
"Easy, with a mirror beside the surgical lights."
"Please, stop being so stubborn and find a damn OB. I know no one is as great as you, but find someone minimally competent."
Annoyed, Addison rolled her eyes while putting on the dress.
"I'm offended that you didn't notice I was being sarcastic. Of course I will get an OB; I'm not that idiot. It's just that I still haven't found the right one."
"What do you think of Naomi?" Amelia asked, moving closer to help her zip up the dress.
"Are you kidding me? What part of 'Naomi and I haven't spoken in two months' do you not understand? Besides, she hasn't returned to the city yet. I don't even know if she still works at the practice or if she'll stay forever in Africa."
"She's supposed to return next week for Charlotte and Cooper's wedding."
"And I need the genetic studies as soon as possible. Can you help me take a sample, or don't you know how to draw blood?"
"Okay..."
~•~
Maybe Meredith's decision to resign from neurology wasn't so detrimental after all.
Derek had been on a streak of five consecutive days operating alongside Jackson Avery, and he found himself pondering where Avery had been hiding all this time.
Avery bore no resemblance to Meredith, and perhaps that was what he appreciated most. From the very first day, Derek was pleasantly surprised by his demeanor. This young surgeon exhibited not only remarkable technical ability but also a profound respect for the decisions and experience of his superiors.
Unlike Meredith, who often seemed tempted to challenge his judgment or act impulsively in areas where she did not feel entirely confident, Jackson maintained an admirable prudence. He never endangered his patients' lives. He never attempted to overstep his boundaries; rather, he approached each situation with a collaborative mindset, acknowledging Derek's authority while not diminishing his intellect.
Derek could understand why Mark favored him, and therein lay the problem... he was Mark's resident. And while residents didn't steal from one another, as they chose their own specialties, Derek felt as though he were doing just that. He was taking his colleague's resident.
"Hey, what are you doing here?" Meredith approached him with a weary smile, having just emerged from one of the rooms.
"I was checking on a patient," Derek replied, barely making eye contact. He wasn't typically found in the halls of obstetrics and gynecology, but the pregnant patient he had operated on the previous day was admitted there, necessitating his ascent to the fourth floor to review her condition.
"Do you know how many babies were born overnight? Five. Two C-sections and three natural births, all within less than twenty minutes of each other. I'm exhausted."
"Full moon," he responded without pausing.
"You think there's any truth to that?" she continued to follow him. "There's no scientific evidence supporting that belief. However, I cannot deny that the labor rooms were overwhelmed yesterday."
"Uhm."
"And you? Lexie told me that Jackson has been with you this week. Has he been a good replacement?" she jested.
"Yes."
"What does Mark think? Does he know you are taking his boy?"
"Something like that."
Meredith bit her lower lip, feeling a growing frustration that lingered as a constant companion. Derek, with his customary serious demeanor, enveloped her in an atmosphere of silence that she found unbearable. She despised it when he was so cold for no reason.
"I have the day off tomorrow. You know, we could do something..." she suggested, attempting to resurrect the conversation. "Maybe we could go out to lunch, or you could come to my house…"
Derek's phone began to ring at that moment, causing him to stop abruptly to see what it was about. It was one of the nurses, Eli Lloyd.
"I gotta go," he said, heading towards the elevator, completely disregarding her invitation.
Meredith simply sighed and watched as the elevator doors closed and he disappeared.
~•~
Being pregnant and being the only one in the room who knew it was far more complicated than Addison had imagined. And not precisely because of the physical symptoms that threatened to embarrass her at all times.
While her colleagues laughed and spoke about something related to Charlotte and Cooper's wedding, Addison remained silently in a corner of the kitchen, trying to go unnoticed as she clumsily poured some green juice into her glass.
She knew that if she spoke or said anything, they would quickly realize her little secret. She had never been good at lying or concealing her feelings; her face, as expressive as it was transparent, always betrayed her. It wasn't that she wanted to hide that wonderful news from her colleagues; in fact, what she wanted most was to shout it to the whole world, but she couldn't do so at that moment. First, she had to go through three steps.
First, she had to tell Sam, whom she had been avoiding since the night she found out. She didn't feel ready to confront him. Under the pretense of having a highly contagious viral gastroenteritis, he hadn't come to her house those days. And nor had she gone to his. Thus, they had hardly spoken.
If there was one thing about Sam that sometimes disappointed Addison, it was that, despite being one of the best doctors she knew, willing to spend entire days attending to his patients, doing and sacrificing anything for their well-being —including missing his mother-in-law's funeral in Connecticut to stay with them— he seemed to flee when his girlfriend fell ill.
He couldn't stand to see her unwell. He didn't help or comfort her when she was sick. It was as if the fact that she was unwell bothered him to such an extent that he couldn't continue to see her.
Addison believed he didn't know how to handle the anguish and frustration that arose from seeing a loved one sick due to what had happened with his only sister, Corinne. She had been diagnosed with manic-depressive schizophrenia and, after displaying severe episodes that Sam had witnessed, she disappeared one day. Since that moment, twenty years ago, he had never heard from her again. And it was a wound that still ached.
That was why he had that kind of defensive or negative attitude when seeing someone he cared for unwell. That was why he distanced himself when things were not right. Not because he was annoyed, but because he was worried. Because he felt helpless. Because he remembered his sister in her worst state. Because he couldn't bear the idea of losing a loved one again...
Or at least, that was what Addison wanted to convince herself of, because she loved him so much that she tried to justify those attitudes that often hurt her silently.
Secondly, it would be fair to tell the father of the baby. Which would be equally or perhaps more intense than telling Sam. And no matter how much she didn't want to think about it, the thought would appear time and again in her mind. How is one supposed to communicate such news?
When she was younger —and more naive—she had fantasized about countless possible scenarios to tell Derek that they would be parents. She had imagined gifting him a small box with the pregnancy test inside. Or maybe, presenting him with a pair of soft, cheerful-colored wool booties. Even in her most elaborate imaginings, she had planned a romantic dinner at an elegant restaurant in New York, where at the moment of ordering wine, she would reveal that she couldn't drink because of the baby, and he would break down in tears in front of the waiter.
She had even thought of more medical ways to tell him, like making him read the results of "a routine blood test," or asking for an appointment for a pregnant patient, and when he read the patient's name in the studies, he would realize it was his wife. Or perhaps asking him to accompany her to a control ultrasound and surprising him with a baby on the monitor.
But none of that could be done now; not when the last time they had seen each other had ended in that fight. And not when she had blocked him to no longer know anything about his life. It even felt humiliating to have to unblock him to tell him that she was pregnant.
Or did she have to travel to Seattle to tell him? Because perhaps this wasn't the type of news that should be conveyed over the phone. Maybe she had to tell him in person, face to face, looking him in the eyes. Whatever it was, it felt humiliating.
And thirdly, the third month. Addison wanted to maintain discretion during the first trimester. Or at least she would try. It is well known that most people wait until the third month of pregnancy to announce it, as the risk of miscarriage is higher and complications can be more frequent before three months.
And although she didn't want to contemplate such scenarios, as an OB, it was inevitable not to do so. Due to her age, her pregnancy fell into the high-risk category. A high-risk pregnancy required significantly more care and medical monitoring; therefore, genetic testing needed to be carried out as soon as possible to ensure that everything was developing well.
"Excuse me," a young man peeked through one of the kitchen doors, interrupting their conversations. He was wearing a bicycle helmet and had a messenger bag hanging from his chest. "I'm looking for Dr. Violet Turner."
"I'm Dr. Turner," she replied, turning her head to see him, "but our receptionist signs for all the packages."
At that moment, Addison tasted the juice she had poured for herself, and, just like the previous time, it evoked a level of aversion she had never felt toward that beverage before. It made her nauseous. Of course it would; it was Derek's child, and he had always loathed green juice, she thought. She sighed and took a green mug from the cupboard to prepare herself some lemon and ginger tea. Supposedly, it helped alleviate the nausea that had been tormenting her that morning.
"I don't need a signature," said the messenger, handing Violet a sealed envelope. "You've just been served. Have a great day."
Without waiting for a reply, the young man left, leaving everyone motionless, with looks of confusion. Violet, feeling the weight of the envelope in her hand, opened it with an almost desperate speed and began to read aloud.
"Liability for Breach of Confidentiality," Violet read, "recently published book violates continued duty of confidentiality regarding plaintiff."
"That's crazy," Cooper exclaimed indignantly. "Who would sue you for that?"
"The woman who attacked me... I'm being sued by Katie."
The air became dense, and silence settled over the room.
Cooper, impatient, snatched the letter from her hand and began to read it himself. "After 18 months of psychiatric care, plaintiff now emotionally stable…"
"What? She attacked Violet!" Pete interrupted, rising from his seat in anger. "And they let her go after only 18 months? They let her go and now she does this?"
"Book is inhibiting the progress of plaintiff's continued mental recovery," Cooper continued reading.
"Okay, this has gotta be some kind of joke," Addison said, placing her cup of tea on the table.
"It doesn't sound very funny to me…" Amelia murmured.
"No, it's not funny," Pete repeated, with annoyance.
"Seeks immediate cessation of publication, marketing, and sales of aforementioned book," Cooper concluded, looking up at Violet, seeking answers in her frightened expression.
Violet, unable to process the magnitude of the situation, covered her face with both hands, allowing tears to flow uncontrollably.
"Demanding your book off the shelves?" Sheldon asked.
"Uhm, I'm sorry…" Addison said, noticing that the wall clock read 8:30 AM. She didn't want to be rude and leave during such a tense moment, but her first patient would arrive in half an hour, and she still needed to go through the lab before then. "Vi, if you need anything from me, you know… um… Amelia, I'll wait for you in the extraction room for a consult…"
Addison walked toward the door while glancing back, keeping her eyes on Amelia, and as a result, she collided with Sam, who had just walked in.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, giving a small jump from the scare. Instinctively, she had placed one hand over her belly, and as soon as she realized it, she quickly removed it.
"Hey, I was just about to call you."
"What? What are you doing here?" she said, nervous. She didn't expect to see him that morning at the practice. The night before, he had told her that he would have a multiple valve replacement surgery at St. Ambrose, which would last at least six hours.
"My patient went into cardiac arrest as soon as we opened her chest. Forty-five minutes of resuscitation, and there was no saving her."
"Oh, um, I'm sorry."
"Were you busy? I need you to help me break some news to another patient…"
"Oh… sure."
"Hey, Sam…" Amelia approached them, "what are you doing here?"
"Apparently, his surgery ended earlier than expected," Addison said, pressing her lips together in a grimace of discomfort.
"Things that happen in cardiology. You need anything, Amelia?" he said, in a sharp tone that made his annoyance clear. He was a bit jealous of her because, in recent days, he hadn't been apart from his girlfriend for a single moment. And that also made him feel guilty, of course, because he should've been with her, taking care of her, instead of with Amelia.
Addison's eyes widened, and she looked sideways, signaling her sister with her gaze to leave.
"Uhm… no. I just wanted to tell Addison that I'll be in the lab and…"
"She can't right now," Sam interrupted.
Amelia raised her eyebrows in surprise and simply turned around. Addison followed Sam to his office, where Val and her husband Gary were waiting.
~•~
"You paged. What's going on?" Derek said, approaching the nurses' station where Ben Warren and Eli Lloyd were arguing.
Eli, visibly agitated, gestured with his hands while explaining the situation. "Dr. Warren's resident punctured the dura of your patient from this morning during what should have been a routine epidural."
"Okay, first of all, there's no such thing as anything routine after a patient's had surgery," Ben defended himself. "And you have no right to yell at my resident."
"There was spinal fluid all over her bed."
"How is the patient?" Derek interjected, remaining neutral.
"I just checked on her. She's stable and in no pain," Eli replied with a more controlled tone, yet still laden with resentment. "Your resident was sloppy and rushed."
"You have no idea how difficult epidurals can be!"
"Because I'm a nurse?" Eli retorted, his body tensing in anticipation of an attack.
"Watch your tone with me," Ben threatened, taking a step forward, ready to cross the line from argument to physical confrontation.
"Or what? What are you gonna do?"
Derek knew he had to intervene as people were watching them. He stepped between them, extending his arms in an attempt to contain the imminent violence. "Okay, okay, done. Break it up," he exclaimed, forcing a physical distance between them. "Walk away. We're done. Walk away. Walk away."
Eli exhaled a breath of frustration, stepping away and heading down the hallway. Ben, still with a glint of fury in his eyes, kept his gaze fixed on the nurse, even as he walked away.
"I get why you're mad at the guy," Derek said, "but if you're gonna have a fight about Bailey, do it on your own time."
"Fight about Bailey?" Ben asked, frowning in confusion. "Wait. No. No, B-Bailey... Bailey's with him?!"
At that moment, Derek realized he had made a mistake. "I should go," he mumbled, taking a few steps back.
"Like they went to dinner once or twice or…?"
"You really don't want to know."
"Shepherd!"
"Like don't go into the conference room on eight or nine without knocking."
"Oh, come on."
"You asked."
"Does she talk about him?"
"Yeah, she said his hands have a kind of tenderness, uh, some kind of magic." Derek mocked. Of course, Bailey had said none of that.
"You're an ass."
"Listen, I understand your situation. I really do... every time I think about the man with the woman I love, I feel like destroying something... but that doesn't mean I'm gonna do it."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I'm not arguing with people, making scenes in the middle of the hallway, threatening to hit a guy just because I'm jealous."
"No, I mean... who are you jealous of? Is someone else with Meredith?"
"What?" he laughed nervously. His face quickly began to redden as he realized that his unconscious had betrayed him.
"You said another man is with the woman you love. I don't understand, I thought you were together."
"We are together."
"Then?"
"You must have misheard. What I wanted to get at is... don't yell at my nurses, even the men."
Derek turned around and began to walk away.
"Sure. Just drop a bomb and walk away. Walk away!"
~•~
If there was anything more difficult than being secretly pregnant, it was having to recommend to another pregnant woman that she terminate her pregnancy to preserve her own life.
Val, Sam's patient, had been diagnosed with Burkitt lymphoma, a cancer of the lymphatic system, and needed to begin treatment as soon as possible. Addison had suggested that she should undergo a C-section at 25 weeks of gestation, as chemotherapy couldn't be administered during pregnancy.
However, she had vehemently refused to do so. After enduring so many failed attempts, miscarriages, and absolute bed rest, Val wanted to wait a few more weeks to reduce the risk of complications for the baby, even if it meant that she would die. Sam had agreed with this decision.
"Sam, we always save the mother first. Val is making the wrong choice here, and her cancer is spreading fast," exclaimed Addison, furiously entering the kitchen behind Sam.
"Maybe, but every day makes a huge difference to this baby. Right now his lungs haven't matured. His visual and auditory systems are still developing. But if we wait just two weeks, the chances of him surviving increase 80%."
"In two weeks, Val will be much worse. She's becoming hypermetabolic, and the cancer is already overtaking her system."
"Guys, hang on," interrupted Amelia, who was eating an orange at the table by the window. "If this woman were hemorrhaging and a split-second decision needed to be made, it would be a no-brainer, but in this case, she's conscious. I mean, she's aware. It's her body."
"Thank you," said Sam.
"It's her life. If she wants to give it up for her baby, that is her choice," Amelia added.
"Without intravenous or intrathecal chemo administered immediately, Val will die," insisted Addison.
"Okay. So let me understand," Sam moved closer to Addison's face. "You're saying that even though this woman has explicitly stated the fact that she wants to have a child, no matter what the cost…"
"Sam..." Addison interrupted.
"You're suggesting that we disregard that."
"It is not the same!"
"Well, from my perspective in this situation, there's nothing left to be said," and turning around, Sam left the room.
Addison turned to Amelia indignantly.
"What?" Amelia replied, nonchalantly bringing a segment of orange to her mouth.
"You know I'm right, Amelia. Both she and the baby could die if she continues to wait this long, and... God, the smell of that orange is killing me," she complained, placing a hand on her stomach.
"Please, don't puke here. I'm enjoying my breakfast."
Addison took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself as she sat in one of the chairs facing her sister-in-law.
"For all these years, my priority has always been the mother. In fact, it still is, but why does it now feel like... I don't know, like something... wrong? Why do I feel like a hypocrite?"
"Because now you know what it is like to have a longed-for baby inside you."
"I feel like I'm suggesting something I wouldn't do in her place..."
"Your situation and hers are different. If you truly believe it is wrong to recommend to a patient that she consider an early delivery to save her life, you're misjudging the situation. This is not about you or your baby, Addison."
"I know... but..."
"Val has already made a decision. You can talk to her, try to persuade her to change her mind, but you cannot force her. As I said, she's aware of what it entails."
"I know."
"Stop feeling guilty or hypocritical about it 'cause you're not doing anything wrong. You gave your medical opinion, she ignored it. She chose her baby over her life; it is her problem," she said, eating the last segment of her orange. "You now need to focus on your baby. Tomorrow you're gonna see it."
"What?"
"I scheduled an appointment for you at the Santa Monica Clinic. Tomorrow at 9:30 a.m. I checked your schedule, and you were free during that time. Do you want me to go with you?"
"What? What are you talking about?"
"You said you needed your genetic studies and blah, blah. Well, I got you an OB. You're welcome."
"Why did you do that? I told you I was considering my options; you didn't have to..."
"Oh, Addison," she interrupted, "it's not a big deal. If you don't like them, you can find another. Just go and ask for all the tests you need because I'm not gonna help you do them in secret."
~•~
For Derek, the best moment of the day was sunset. It wasn't solely due to the orange hues adorning the sky, but because it was the moment he would venture into the woods to release all the energy he had accumulated during construction.
The gentle whisper of the wind through the trees and the distant song of birds created an atmosphere of tranquility that invited him to immerse himself in his work and escape the turmoil of the hospital, no matter how calm the day might have been. Or rather, what could be considered a calm day didn't exist in a hospital where injured and ill individuals were constantly arriving in need of attention. That day had merely included two scheduled surgeries with Avery as the lead surgeon, a few consultations, and some post-operative check-ups without significant complications. In other words, a quiet day.
"Hey!" exclaimed Ben Warren as he approached with a six-pack of beers tucked under his arm.
"Hey. I'm glad you came."
"Well, since you say it's the effective method to combat a broken heart, I had to take advantage of it."
"I never said that," Derek chuckled.
"You implied it."
"Don't think so."
"Who broke your heart? Besides Meredith, you know..."
"Sorry?"
"You know... the conversation we had this morning. You said you understood the feeling of having the woman you loved with another man. Who is she?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied with a nervous laugh. He couldn't believe Ben continued to probe into that matter.
"Did you meet someone else when you broke up?"
He already knew her.
"Of course not. We were apart for less than two months; when would I have been with someone else?"
At a funeral.
"I promise not to say anything. You know... if you tell me more about Bailey and that nurse..."
"You have it all wrong."
"Am I?"
"Yes. If you wanna help me with this wall... we need to cut these wooden boards. Do you know how to use a circular saw?" he asked, pointing to the machine behind them.
Ben realized that Derek wanted to evade the conversation and simply nodded, heading over to the table where the saw was located. They weren't close enough friends for him to insist on a topic that Derek was unwilling to share, but the reddish hue of his face and his nervous laughter indicated that he was not entirely mistaken.
"I'll be hammering the boards to the wall in case you need me..." murmured Derek as he moved away to retrieve the toolbox he had left in the trailer.
While searching for the hammer and some nails, his phone vibrated in his pocket, signaling that he had received a new message. He picked it up and glanced at the screen.
"The parasites came out tonight. Wanna have fun?"
Right. Meredith had the following day off and had invited him to spend the night at her house. He had completely forgotten... or maybe he had preferred not to remember.
The idea of going didn't excite him in the least. He was tired and not in the mood to see her. Lately, all she did was talk about her new specialty. She'd recount how long deliveries could be for first-time mothers, the absurd positions in which the babies would place themselves, how exhausting night shifts were, the most common names, the parents' reactions upon learning the gender, and how impatient the grandparents were in the waiting room, among other things, while strolling the halls in her ridiculous pink scrubs that he could no longer stand to see.
Of course, he was glad she was interested in her new area, but he didn't care at all about what she was saying. He had been married for almost twelve years to an OB/GYN; he already knew absolutely everything that happened in that department, and everything Meredith told him was not new. It wasn't interesting. Or at least she didn't make it sound interesting.
He didn't want to listen to her that day, much less spend an entire night by her side. Because, of course, Meredith's intentions were not simply to have dinner and pass the time talking about work. She wanted to have sex. And he still didn't feel ready for that.
Yes, last month they had encountered each other and yes, it had been because he had gone to see her. But it hadn't really been because he wanted to; it was because he was under the influence of alcohol. Because he needed to somehow release the anger he felt towards Addison... and Sam.
But after that, he could barely kiss her lightly on the lips. He wanted to be with her. He genuinely promised himself to make the effort to try once more, to not let all the years they had spent together and all the dreams and goals they still had to fulfill go to waste; however, he remained hurt by her concerning what had occurred with the clinical trial and Richard.
Even though he tried to move on and forgive her, it was not something he could forget overnight. Falling in love with her again, desiring her as he once did, was not something he could accomplish overnight. He needed time.
After all, wasn't time the best healer of wounds?
"Emergency. Entering the OR. Sorry."
He replied and tucked his phone back into his pants pocket. He picked up the hammer he had left on the ground and exited the trailer.
~•~
The following day, Addison had performed the C-section to bring Tyler, Val, and Gary Woodward's baby, into the world.
Despite Sam and Amelia having advised her to respect her patient's decision, the night before, after concluding her workday at the practice, Addison had stopped by St. Ambrose to see Val, who was hospitalized.
Under the pretense of monitoring the baby, Addison seized the opportunity to speak with her privately. Without the presence of her husband or Sam, she didn't wish to pressure Val into doing anything she didn't want, but she sought to understand more deeply why she was making this choice. Because behind such a resolute decision, there always existed a greater reason supporting it.
"Is he pressuring you to have the baby?" Addison had asked her.
"No, not at all. It's just that… you know, I was very young. I passed my series 3, and I was finally getting a shot to trade with the big boys. I was stressed and I wasn't eating, so... I wasn't worried when I missed a couple of periods, but... You can't become one of the guys and then walk around with a baby inside you…"
The reason Val had insisted so fervently on carrying the pregnancy to term was that she had had an abortion in the early years of her marriage, and she had concealed it from her husband.
After that confession, her heart had begun to fail, and her life, as well as that of the baby, was in jeopardy. Once the doctors managed to stabilize her, Addison encouraged her to tell Gary the truth, for it was that secret that was tormenting her. So, she did.
At first, he was very angry with her. Not for the abortion itself, but for having lied to him, for having hidden that for years, and for not having trusted him at the time. He had walked away and even considered leaving her. However, after Addison told him that his wife was making all this sacrifice out of love, for love of him, willing to risk her own life for the child they had conceived together, he decided to forgive her. Because he didn't want to risk losing her.
Together, they decided to schedule the C-section for early the next day, to start Val's treatment as soon as possible. At precisely 7:00 a.m., Addison welcomed Tyler, who had received corticosteroids the day before to mature his lungs.
Despite his extreme prematurity, the baby showed signs of vitality. He was a little warrior weighing 1.80 pounds, healthy, with a promising prognosis. Shortly after his birth, he was transferred to the neonatal intensive care unit, where he would remain in an incubator for at least two months.
"Hey," Amelia said, peeking through the door of the changing room where Addison was changing out of her uniform, "what happened?"
"I performed the C-section, and the baby's in the NICU. They are both doing well. Val will start chemotherapy this afternoon..."
"That's good to know. How are you? Are you feeling well?"
"I have a bit of nausea… but the antiemetic helped me this morning and I didn't throw up in the OR. I consider that progress."
"Good. That's good. Did you have breakfast?"
Addison raised an eyebrow in surprise. Since when had their roles been reversed?
"Oh, shut up," Amelia laughed upon seeing her expression. "Are you ready?"
"You know you don't have to go if you don't want to…" Addison said, finishing adjusting her dress.
"I want to go. You don't have to do all this alone, Addie. I know you feel that delegating things is new for you, but you'll have to get used to it."
Addison offered a small smile, pressing her lips into a thin line before both made their way to the Santa Monica Clinic.
Once they were in the office, Addison donned a pink gown and lay down on the exam table. Amelia sat in the accompanying chair and took her hand. She could feel her trembling slightly from nerves.
Addison had seen and heard the baby days prior; however, being there, in another professional's office, waiting to be examined, turned that moment into an overwhelmingly intense experience. The reality of motherhood began to materialize, blurring the lines between hope and fear.
She was an obstetrician and knew how this worked, especially in the first trimester. She had witnessed many times how, from one appointment to another, the hearts of certain fetuses simply stopped beating. And the silence that filled the ultrasound was followed by the sound of their parents' hearts shattering at that moment along with their dreams and aspirations.
And, no matter how prepared she was to deliver such news to her patients, Addison wasn't prepared to receive it.
"Everything will be fine," Amelia whispered, squeezing her hand firmly.
The office door opened, and a doctor with a warm smile entered the room.
"Well, hello, Addison," he said, reading the chart he held, "nice to meet you."
"Hi… umm…"
With everything concerning Val, Gary, and their baby, Addison realized she had not even asked Amelia for the OB's name.
"Dr. Jake Reilly. Specialist in reproductive endocrinology and infertility, and an obstetrician specializing in high-risk pregnancies. I'll be happy to accompany you through your pregnancy in the coming months."