I was moving on. I said it out loud to Susan so now it was true. I was moving forward. Derek and I trying to make a life out of something so broken was not possible and so, I'm not trying anymore. I hope he keeps his word to do right by our daughter, but I don't have any control over that, so I am keeping the faith for her. Not for me. That ship has sailed, it has so sailed that it's probably already in Antarctica by now. Or at least this is what I tell myself on repeat because it's easier than caving into the admission that if I let myself, I might drown in disappointment.

I avoided Derek at the hospital. Not like we ran into each other much with me on my next rotation, but still. I haven't set foot in the cafeteria and I avoid the main lobby areas. I don't care if I ever see the neuro department again. He stays busy anyways in surgery. It's also only been three days since the night he showed up to my place… since August 18th.

The preschool Mia and I interviewed at called and they are interested in offering her conditional acceptance to their program. One more thing I get to think about. One more decision for my daughter I get to make alone. I guess, I technically could get Derek's input but I don't want it, not really.

I got a text from him yesterday asking to see Mia soon. 'Sure' I replied. That's all I had to offer. He said he wanted to come over tonight and see her and I told him he could take her out to dinner. I wasn't interested in doing the whole thing right now where I have to put on the friendly face and pretend like I'm not crushed inside. I would soon for my daughter's sake but not this week. This week I wanted to hate him. I wanted to not think about how much I love him, how much he's shattered me. I just need time to breathe, so that's what I'm doing.

Mia and I were both feeling lazy today as we waited for Derek to get off work and come grab her for dinner. It wasn't like her to be so tired or quiet, but I figured maybe she was picking up on my energy. We could be in sync like that. When I heard the doorbell ring, I knew it was him.

"Your dad is here to take you to dinner baby" I told Mia as I tucked a piece of her long blonde hair behind her ear. She was cuddled on my lap like a little baby.

Mia grinned and I was happy that she was so happy to see Derek. I walked with her to open the door, to see Derek standing there looking unsure of himself. His face lit up when he saw her.

"Daddy!" she yelped out and flung herself into his arms. He grabbed her instantly and held her close to him muttering something just between the two of them. I had to turn off the piece of my heart that usually melted over scenes like this.

"Hi Mer" he breathed and looked at me with a tight jaw.

"Hello" I responded casually.

"Mommy, are you coming to dinner with me and daddy?" Mia asked, looking between us. She remained in Derek's arms.

I crossed my arms across my chest protectively "No baby, you and daddy are going to have some quality time just the two of you"

Mia frowned "Why not?"

"You'll have more fun without me this time. Mommy's tired" I tried to assure her, refusing to meet Derek's gaze.

Derek shifted uncomfortably, like he was unsure of how to handle the tension. His eyes flickered between Mia and me.

"We'll have fun baby" Derek told Mia as he kissed her head. I think he was trying to avoid my gaze too.

I nodded, trying to keep my face neutral, but inside I felt that familiar ache creeping up again.

Mia, still in his arms, pouted a little. "But I'll miss you, mommy."

I smiled at her, trying to ease her "I'll be here when you get back. You're going to have so much fun with daddy."

"Okay." Her frown remained, but she didn't fight it. I think she sensed that I wasn't going to budge on this one.

Derek brushed a soft kiss to her cheek, probably grateful she didn't have a meltdown. Those were getting better. "I'll make sure she has fun," he said, finally looking at me. There was something in his eyes, something too vulnerable. Like he was asking for something—permission, maybe. Or forgiveness.

But I couldn't give him either. I simply nodded in acknowledgement.

With Mia wrapped tightly in his arms, Derek turned toward the door, the two of them stepping outside into the evening. I watched them walk down the stairs, Mia's excited chatter filling the space between us. As the door clicked shut behind them, the silence rushed in, heavier than before.

I sank down onto the couch, my eyes fixed on the spot where they'd just stood. For a moment, I thought I could hear Derek's voice again in my head, telling me he was sorry, that he didn't mean to break everything, that he loved me. But then the silence returned, more final this time. He was gone. Mia was gone.

And I was still here. I pulled my knees up to my chest, staring at the empty space across the room. I didn't know how we were going to navigate this anymore.

Derek's POV

Mia said she wanted taco's so I took her to a taco shop in town she said she'd never been to.

I watch her, the way she's holding the taco, her tiny hands struggling to wrap it up, and I can't help but smile. It's messy, but she's proud of it. I should be hungry—I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow, surgeries and all that—but honestly, I've got no appetite. All I can think about is how I've blown almost everything, once again and how I'm not sure I even deserve her. I know I'm quiet. Much quieter than she's used to and she needs me to be her dad.

She looks up at me, her face full of taco sauce and joy, and it hits me all over again that I am a dad and I've grown to love being a dad. I might not be ready to love Meredith the way she deserves, but Mia, I've never been more certain of anything in my life.

I take a sip of my drink watching Mia just be a happy little girl. Unfazed and unaltered by life's cruelty. She looks so small and innocent, and I realize she probably doesn't even understand just how much she means to me.

"You know, Mia," I say, my voice a little lower than normal, like I'm sharing something just between the two of us, "you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

She stops mid-bite, her eyes big and serious as she looks at me. I almost regret saying it, worried that I've said too much, but I can't take it back now. I don't even know if she understands what I'm telling her.

"I know I wasn't around when you were a baby" I continue, my voice softer now, almost like a confession. "And I know that a lot of that is my fault, but I want you to know something, Mia. No matter what happens... you're the one good thing I can always count on. You're everything to me."

She doesn't say anything right away. She just stares at me for a moment, her little eyes searching mine. Then, she kicks her legs under the table, still holding onto that taco, and a shy smile creeps across her face.

"I love you, Daddy," she says quietly, her voice so small, yet so full of sincerity.

I feel my chest tighten. I wanted to cry. I think I needed this.

"I love you too, Mia. More than anything."

She looks back down at her taco, happily taking another bite, and I can't help but think that in this moment—this perfect, messy, beautiful moment—everything else can wait. I've got her. And she's everything. I pick up my taco and enjoy the company of my little girl. I can do this.

I get Mia home by 8pm and I know that means it's time for bed. I walk her to the door not sure who's going to greet me on the other side. I'm certain Susan and Thatcher are home. Meredith opens the door and plasters on the fake smile to keep Mia calm and happy and I'm grateful for her ability to do that. Meredith tells Mia to tell me goodbye, but she insists that I be a part of her bedtime routine, like we usually do.

Meredith shifts uninterested in that, but I think we're on the same page that we want to keep things consistent for Mia. I carry Mia upstairs and Meredith and I work flawlessly on Mia's routine. Pajamas, Brush her Teeth, Bedtime story.

Meredith manages to avoid eye contact with me the entire time. We both kiss Mia goodnight and it's downstairs I go. Meredith hesitated to follow after me but Susan was waiting at the bottom of the stairs and the look on her face was withering.

"Hi Susan" I greet her. The day is starting to wear on me and I suddenly feel exhausted. I don't have it in me to fight with Susan. I know I'm a selfish asshole undeserving of her step-daughter.

"Derek" Susan states. She looks like she wants war.

I make it down the stairs and pause waiting for whatever it is she has to say.

"The only reason you're welcome in this house is because of that little girl upstairs and I swear to God Derek, if you do anything to break her heart, I will hunt you down."

I swallow.

The weight of her words hits me hard. I knew Susan wasn't a fan of me, but this? This is different. She means it. I can see it in her eyes—there's no hesitation, no doubt. Just pure, protective fury.

"I'm not going to hurt her," I mutter, my voice low and strained, my hand gripping the railing as if it might hold me up.

Susan narrows her eyes, arms crossed tightly over her chest. "You better not," she says, her tone sharp. "I'm watching you."

I know she is. Always has. She's one of those people who doesn't need to speak much to make it clear she's got her eyes on you, studying every move, waiting for a slip-up. I can feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating.

I try to offer a weak smile, but I can't muster any real warmth. "I'm doing my best, Susan. Really."

She doesn't flinch. "Your best is barely good enough, Derek and I don't trust you." Her eyes flicker briefly toward the stairs, looking at Meredith who has said nothing. "She's been through enough don't you think?" and I know at that moment she's not talking about Mia anymore.

The words hit like a slap. I feel the sting, but I don't flinch. I can't afford to.

"I know," I say, the truth of it cutting through my chest. "I know, Susan."

The silence stretches out between us. I don't want to be here anymore. The house feels suffocating, the tension almost unbearable. But I can't leave. Not yet.

She steps forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "You better be good to her, Derek." Her voice is quieter now, almost like a warning wrapped in something like sorrow. "That little girl deserves the best and you need to learn how to be the best."

My stomach twists.

"I'm trying," I say again. "I - I am trying."

Susan's expression softens for a moment, a brief flicker of something—concern, maybe—before the hardness returns. "Try harder," she snaps, turning on her heel.

I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching her disappear into the kitchen. My hands ball into fists, and I try to steady my breath, but it feels like the walls are closing in on me. It's never been easy, and right now, it feels like it might never get easier.

I force myself to move, to walk away from the confrontation, but the weight of Susan's words hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of how much I've failed…

I turn back and look at Meredith who looks unfazed.

"Can we talk? I'll be quick," I say, my voice tight. She doesn't respond, but follows me anyway, the silence between us thick with unspoken things. I make my way to my car, feeling the weight of Susan's house behind me. I can't shake the feeling of being watched, of being judged, like I don't belong here. Not now. Not ever.

I stop beside my car, leaning against it for a little steadiness. My hands are buried deep in my pockets, my thoughts racing. I try to look at her—really look at her—but I can't read anything in her eyes. The green of them is sharp, cold. There's a wall there, and I can't figure out if it's for me, or if it's just part of her.

"I didn't know what to say to her," I say, my voice barely a whisper, like I'm trying to convince myself.

Meredith doesn't look at me. I can see the tightness in her jaw though, the way her shoulders stiffen. "You don't have to say anything, Derek. You know what she thinks of you."

It feels like a punch. It's true, of course. Susan's never been shy about her opinion of me, and right now, it stings more than it ever has before.

"I know," I mutter, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. "I just—God, Meredith, I made a mistake."

The words fall flat between us. She's closed off, a barrier between us that feels impossible to breach. I hate it, but I can't blame her.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Derek," she replies, her voice detached, as if she's already moved past the point of caring about any explanation I might offer.

Every part of me wants to argue, to defend myself, but I can't. Not anymore. I can't lie to her, can't pretend things are fine when they're anything but. I know I need help. I know I'm broken, and I've been so selfish, living in my own pain for far too long.

"I talked to my parents," I say, the words coming out like a confession. "Every year on the date, I just disappear. I don't think about anyone else. I lose myself in my own shit, in my own pain. It's self-centered and unacceptable, but I do it. I didn't call my mom, or my dad, or my sisters. I didn't even call you."

I can feel her eyes on me then, even though she's still not looking at me directly. She's hearing it, processing it, but I know it doesn't change anything. I don't deserve for it to change anything.

"I called them," I continue, my voice steadying. "I apologized. And I'm getting back to therapy. I need help, Meredith. I'm sorry I allowed us to try again when I wasn't ready for it. I should've been honest with you from the start."

Finally, I catch a glimpse of something softer in her eyes. But it doesn't last long. The mask slides back into place, and she looks away, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't want Mia hurt, Derek. That's all I care about," she says, her voice quieter, more vulnerable now. But there's still a hardness there, a distance that feels like an ocean between us.

I nod, my throat tight. "I get it. I know you do."

I want to say more. I want to tell her I'm trying, that I'm not giving up, that I can be the man she needs. But I can't find the words. What's left to say when everything has already been said?

"I'm moving on, Derek," she says, her voice flat, matter-of-fact. "I can't wait for you. I don't want to anymore. Maybe our purpose was to bring Mia into this world and that's it."

The words hit like a blow to the chest. It takes everything in me not to crumple. I stare at her, trying to make sense of what she's saying, what she means. "You don't think one day we can get this right?" I ask, the question raw and desperate.

She doesn't answer right away. Instead, she shrugs, her face unreadable. "I'll talk to you later, Derek," she says, her tone neutral, almost distant now.

And with that, she turns and walks away. Her footsteps echo in the silence as I stand there, rooted to the spot, my heart hammering in my chest. I want to call after her, to say something—anything—but the words are gone.

I watch her disappear into the night, the gap between us widening with every step she takes. I finally understand what she meant when she told me we never really have the fight. One of us always walks away. One of us always avoids it. It makes me feel physically ill to think she believes the only reason we were ever together is to make our daughter like none of the rest of it mattered. I've never loved anyone the way I love Meredith and I don't think I've ever hurt anyone the way I've hurt her either.

I wish Amy was still here.

I wish everything was different. I dream of nothing other than the life we should have had.

"Hi you" I say as Meredith comes up to me with a look of determination on her face. She looks worried but takes my hands as I offer them.

"Is everything okay?" I ask concerned. Her face is so nervous it's almost cute. She leads me away from my parents house. They are always in earshot it seems.

We walk around to her backyard hand in hand. We can never keep our hands off each other. It's just not scientifically possible between Meredith and I. I'm assuming Ellis isn't home if we're being this open. I wrap my arms around her and pull her into a hug and pepper her forehead with kisses. I can tell something's wrong but I'm giving her the time she needs to tell me.

"We leave to go back to school in a few days" she tells me

"I know" I tell her. I hate it.

"And Derek, I'm late." she tells me, meeting my gaze.

"What do you mean?" I ask, perplexed.

"Late.. As in my periods late and I took a test." she continues

I blink, letting the words sink in. There's no panic, no rush of fear. Just this strange, quiet certainty settling over me. This isn't what I expected, but maybe it's exactly what's meant to happen.

"So, you're saying…" My voice feels like it's trailing off, like I'm waiting for some punchline. But there's no joke here.

"I'm pregnant, Derek," she says, and her voice is steady, but I can see the weight of it in her eyes. "The test was positive."

I exhale slowly. My heart's still beating faster than usual, but there's something else there, too. Something lighter.

I look at her, the corners of my mouth tugging upwards despite everything. "Okay," I say, my voice more relaxed than I thought it would be, a grin on my face that I can't seem to wipe off.

Meredith looks at me, unsure of what that means. "You're okay with this?" she asks, her voice cautious.

"Yeah. I mean, no, I wasn't expecting it, but I'm not scared. I- I think I'm excited. We can make this work, Meredith. We don't have to have everything figured out right now, but we can do this."

Her eyes soften just slightly. "You're sure?"

"Yeah, I think - we can do this." I say it more for myself than for her. Because right now, I'm feeling a little braver than I've ever felt before.

"We're having a baby" I tell her and my eyes glisten with unexpected tears. I pull her into me. I knew I wanted a family with her. I didn't expect or probably even want it this soon but we're engaged. My family is ecstatic for us. Amy came around and is thrilled that Meredith will officially be her sister. This is clearly what was always meant to be.

Continued:

I was able to finish my hospital rotation early today. They've been excellent to me. Letting me transfer to Mt. Sinai last minute and allowing me the flexibility to leave for Meredith's appointments.

Her and Amy are doing amazing in their last year of Undergrad. Even pregnant she's making straight A's and she's happy. We're happy and today we find out the gender of our baby and I've never been more excited.

Meredith is 5 months pregnant. We debated finding out the gender but ultimately decided we wanted to do it and today is the day.

I meet her at her OB and she's beaming at me. I swear she grows rounder by the day and I can't help but reach out and place my hand gently on her belly as I approach her. The warmth of her skin, the life inside her, is surreal to me. Every time I touch her, I feel this deep, unshakable connection. The moment feels sacred, like everything I've ever wanted is right here, right in front of me.

"You look amazing," I tell her, my voice filled with admiration as I lean down to kiss her forehead. She's glowing—there's no other way to describe it. The pregnancy suits her in ways I didn't even know were possible.

"Don't I?" she teases, grinning, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I laugh and pull her into a quick hug. "You really do," I say, and I mean it. I can see the joy in her and its contagious.

We walk into the office together, hand in hand. Meredith seems lighter these days, and I can feel the weight of worry lifting from her shoulders. She's in her last year of college, acing her classes, managing everything beautifully, and yet still taking the time to care for herself and the baby.

As we sit in the waiting area, I catch her eye and see that same spark of excitement reflected back at me. There's something magical about the idea of finding out what we're having. It feels like another piece of our future is about to fall into place.

The nurse calls us in, and we stand up together, both of us a little giddy now. The room smells sterile and calm, the familiar hum of a hospital giving me a sense of routine, but today, it feels different. Today, we're about to learn something that will change everything.

Meredith sits on the exam table, and I take my place beside her, still holding her hand. The technician enters, her warm smile easing some of the nerves. She begins setting up the equipment, and for a moment, the room falls into a comfortable silence, just the quiet buzzing of the machines.

As the ultrasound begins, I can't help but watch Meredith's face. She's anxious, but there's something else there too. Hope. Anticipation. I lean in a little closer, just wanting to be there with her for this moment.

Then, the technician looks at the screen and smiles. "Alright, let's take a look."

I hold my breath. Meredith's hand tightens in mine. The room feels like it's holding its breath too.

"There it is," the technician says, pointing at the screen, and then she looks up at us with a smile. "It's a girl!"

My heart skips a beat. I exhale in a rush, relief and joy flooding through me. I can't stop the grin from spreading across my face. I lean down and kiss Meredith on the cheek, the words tumbling out. "It's a girl," I say, still in disbelief, as if hearing it out loud makes it more real.

Meredith laughs softly, her eyes brimming with happiness. "I knew it," she says, her voice full of joy, and I can see a tear slip down her cheek.

I brush it away gently, smiling at her. The idea of having a daughter feels almost too perfect, like something I didn't realize I needed until this very moment.

Meredith looks up at me, a soft, tender smile on her face. "She's going to be so loved," she says, and I can see the future unfolding in her eyes—the same one that's been playing out in my mind, now made real.

I nod, my heart full. "She already is."

We sit there for a moment, just taking it all in—the quiet joy of knowing, of imagining who she'll be, and what kind of parents we're going to be. Everything feels right.

Continued:
The living room is warm, sunlight streaming through the windows, casting soft shadows on the carpet. Meredith and I sit on the floor, our daughter between us. She's almost one, and every day she seems to grow more determined. She's been standing for a while now, holding onto the furniture with her tiny hands, but today? Today feels different.

She takes a few wobbly steps toward me, a determined look in her eyes, her chubby legs shaking as she tries to balance herself.

"Come on, baby girl," I say, my voice soft but full of encouragement. "You can do it."

She glances over at me, her little face scrunching up in concentration. Then she turns toward Meredith, who's sitting a few feet away, watching with a mixture of pride and awe.

"Derek, I think she's going to do it," Meredith says, her voice full of hope and a little bit of disbelief. She leaned forward, her hands resting on her knees, ready to catch our daughter if she falls.

I laugh softly. "I know. I can't believe she's almost there."

Our daughter lifts one foot off the ground, teetering, and then, with a sudden burst of confidence, she takes two shaky steps toward Meredith. Her little arms flail for balance, her giggles ringing out like music.

"Look at you go!" Meredith exclaims, her voice high and excited. Her hands are outstretched, just in case our daughter needs the extra support. But she doesn't fall. Instead, she takes another step. Then another.

I can't help but grin, my heart swelling with pride as she makes her way toward Meredith, who's now crouched down, her arms wide.

"You're doing it!" I say, leaning forward a little. My voice feels thick with emotion, like I might cry, but I don't—because I'm just so proud of her, of us.

Her feet shuffle, but she keeps her focus on Meredith, her eyes locked on her mom. The room feels like it's holding its breath as she takes another small step, and then another.

With a final stretch of her tiny legs, she stumbles forward and lands safely into Meredith's arms, giggling as she's scooped up and held close.

"There we go!" Meredith says, lifting our daughter into the air, her face glowing with joy. "You did it, baby girl!"

Our daughter squeals, her little hands grasping at Meredith's face, as though she's proud of herself, too. Meredith holds her for a moment, her eyes shining with pride, and then she looks up at me, her gaze full of warmth.

"Did you see that?" Meredith says, laughing softly. "She did it. She's walking."

I nod, my throat tight. "I saw. I can't believe it."

I lean back on the floor, my hand on my heart, watching the two of them. My daughter, this tiny miracle, and Meredith, my everything.

Meredith looks at me, and the smile she gives me is soft, full of love. "We're doing this, Derek. We're really doing this."

I nod again, my heart full. "Yeah. We are."

Our daughter reaches for me now, her tiny arms outstretched, and I lean forward, scooping her up into my arms, holding her close as she snuggles into my chest. I look at Meredith, and for a moment, everything feels perfect.

"I can't believe we're parents," I whisper, more to myself than to her.

Meredith's smile widens, her eyes a little misty. "I know. But it's the best thing that's ever happened"

"You're going to be amazing, little one," I whisper to our daughter, kissing the top of her head. "And we're going to be right here with you, every step of the way."

Meredith leans over and kisses me on the cheek. My hands go to baby growing inside of her "I can't believe we're going to have another one" I tell her

"In 6 months" Meredith reminds me.

I kiss her on the lips gently, a soft moment between us, full of love and disbelief. "Six months," I repeat, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "I love you" I tell her.

AN: Our filler chapter is complete. Meredith needs time to stop hating Derek and Derek needs time to turn into a better person all while navigating a forced relationship due to the fact that they have Mia together. Please let me know if you're still interested in this story or if your interest is waning. I only write if you guys enjoy it. Leave me a review and let me know :)