Returning to Seattle had been much harder than Derek had imagined.
He didn't want to go back. He knew he had to, that he had patients, commitments, an entire life there that he couldn't just abandon.
But he didn't want to.
During his brief stay in Los Angeles, something inside him had loosened. He had felt different. Lighter, more connected, more... happy?
That place had something he couldn't explain in words. It wasn't just the sun, the beaches, or the slower pace of the city. It wasn't even the unconventional style of practice or Addison's house by the sea. It was the feeling of being in a place where everything could start anew.
Just like Addison had done.
Los Angeles had created a new version of the woman he knew, calmer, more at peace, yet stronger and more confident than ever. She had built a life there, and he had had the chance to peek into it. He had felt, even if for just a few days, part of something different.
And of course, it had been different. Now there was a baby that changed everything.
Every time he remembered he was going to be a father, that Addison was carrying their daughter in her womb, he felt a little shiver running through his body, making his skin tingle. And he smiled. Unintentionally, a soft, shy smile appeared on his face, as if he didn't know if he was allowed to be that happy.
Because yes. He was happy. So happy it was scary. Amid all the confusion, the mistakes, the complicated past between them, life had given them this gift. Something new. Something that wasn't tainted.
And yes, he also felt confused and scared. A part of him knew he might be acting impulsively, driven by emotion and the vertigo of the moment. Perhaps even by guilt. He didn't have all the answers. He wasn't even sure he was making the right choices. But what he did know, with a certainty that welled up from his chest, was that he wanted to try.
He wanted to be with Addison. He wanted to be part of Elowen's life from the beginning. He wanted to take this new opportunity and not waste it.
Before he could think about what was coming, Derek knew he had to take care of what he had yet to close. And that, inevitably, led him to Meredith.
They hadn't spoken in the last four days. Not because he didn't want to, but because he hadn't had the chance to think about her with everything that had happened recently in his life.
Meredith had given him an ultimatum; she had told him that if he went to Los Angeles, their marriage would be over. And he, without arguing, had turned around, grabbed his suitcase, and headed to the airport. Since then, the silence between them had been absolute.
And though he didn't know how he was going to face her, he was clear that he could no longer postpone it.
Not only because he still had most of his things at her house, or because they shared much more than a few memories. But because she deserved to know the truth. She deserved an honest conversation, an explanation for everything that had happened with him in recent months.
And an apology.
What they had was important. It couldn't be erased or denied. It had been real, at least for a time. And although he was no longer sure of what he felt for her—whether it was love, habit, or simply attachment—he did know he couldn't leave without saying anything.
She deserved closure. Their story deserved closure.
But first...
Derek stopped in front of one of the administrative islands in the hospital. The constant murmur of doctors and nurses mixed with the rapid typing on computers. Among them, Mark was half-slumped over one of the desks, surrounded by open folders, surgical reports, and a half-cold cup of coffee. He had his head down, focused on some papers until he sensed Derek's presence.
He approached with a smile. He couldn't hold it in for another minute.
"Hey."
Mark looked up, initially with a look of annoyance, but as soon as he recognized him, his eyes lit up as if they hadn't seen each other in weeks.
"Look who came back from the dead!" he exclaimed sarcastically. "Where the hell have you been?"
Derek didn't respond. He just reached into the right pocket of his lab coat, delicately pulled out a folded piece of paper, and let it fall onto the desk, right on top of the surgical consent form his friend was signing.
Mark frowned, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance. He stared at the black-and-white image without understanding.
"What's it?"
Derek felt a ridiculous warmth rising through his neck, loosening the muscles in his face. He smiled even wider.
"My daughter."
Mark blinked, confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Addison's pregnant," Derek said flatly.
Mark froze. He slammed the folder in front of him shut and quickly sat up.
"What?" he repeated as if he hadn't heard correctly.
Derek looked at him steadily, firmly, letting each word settle.
"I'm going to have a baby with Addison."
Mark took the ultrasound in both hands, as if he needed tangible proof that what his friend was saying wasn't a joke. He studied it closely, and there it was, in the upper right corner of the paper, the patient's name appeared: Forbes Montgomery, Addison A. GA: 16w 1d.
"What the hell?" Mark turned his gaze back to his friend, still with his eyebrows raised in surprise.
Derek let out a short, honest laugh.
"I'm gonna be a dad!"
"This... this...? How did this happen? I mean... when? At what point?"
"In Connecticut, Mark. In February."
"Shit, did you get her pregnant that day?" he blurted out, almost admiringly, a laugh escaping from his chest.
"Well, yeah..."
"Man, what aim! You're a freaking stallion!" he exclaimed, loud, too loud. A few doctors looked up from their stations, but Mark didn't care.
Derek put a hand to his face, somewhere between amused and embarrassed. He was already blushing.
"Lower your voice, for God's sake..."
"No, seriously! This is historic. You're gonna be a dad! A dad! Damn, I can't handle this!"
And before Derek could respond, Mark wrapped him in a tight hug, patting his back exaggeratedly while continuing to chuckle. Derek, still red as a tomato, could only laugh, defeated.
"Oh, man," Mark said once they separated, "congratulations. I'm so happy for you."
"Thanks, Mark."
"When did you find out? How's Addison? Oh, I have to call her."
"She's fine. I was with her yesterday."
"What? You traveled to LA?"
"Yeah. Actually, Amelia called me for a surgery. We worked together on a case of a gliosarcoma that had invaded the carotid. Everything went well... and then the rest... it all happened too fast. I met Addison at her practice and... I saw her," he smiled, biting his lower lip as if he still couldn't believe it, "she's really pregnant, Mark. She really has a baby bump."
Mark let out a small laugh of happiness.
"She's sixteen weeks," Derek continued, "well, the day after tomorrow she turns seventeen. That's about five months. Oh, and it's a girl."
"A girl? Sofia will have a best friend!"
Derek smiled again just thinking about the image of the two girls together.
"Yeah, a girl. Elowen."
"Elowen is real!" he exclaimed in astonishment, "Damn... it's been years since I last heard that name."
Derek nodded, a mix of nostalgia and tenderness in his voice.
"I know."
"And what are you gonna do? What does Addison wanna do?" Mark asked, his brow slightly furrowed as if fearing the answer.
Derek's smile vanished instantly. His features hardened, and his gaze dropped to the floor for a second.
"Oh... about that," he said, in a quieter voice, "I have to talk to Hunt..."
Mark's eyes widened, anticipating what was coming.
"Oh no... don't tell me... no..."
Derek didn't respond. He just pressed his lips together and nodded very slightly.
"No, Derek!" Mark stepped towards him, hurt. "You can't leave me!"
"It's my daughter, Mark... I want to be with her. And with Addison. It's my chance to do things right this time," he replied firmly.
Mark fell silent. He lowered his gaze, swallowing hard, and rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, in a resigned gesture.
"Have you told Meredith yet?"
"Of course not," Derek replied, crossing his arms. "I haven't spoken to her yet. I was planning to go to her house tonight. In the meantime, I would like you not to tell anyone... please."
Mark opened his mouth, as if to say something... and froze.
"Oh... about that..."
"Oh, congratulations!" suddenly shouted a female voice behind them.
Before he could react, Callie appeared down the hallway, beaming with excitement. She rushed toward Derek and hugged him tightly, giving him an enthusiastic squeeze as she shook him from side to side.
"Derek, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you!"
"What? How do you know?" Derek asked, bewildered, looking over Callie's shoulder while still trapped in her hug.
Mark, who had stepped aside with a guilty air, shrugged with an awkward smile. He slowly lifted his phone from beneath the table, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
"In my defense... I didn't think she'd read the messages that quickly..."
Derek shot him a glare. Mark lowered his head like a scolded puppy, with wide eyes and an exaggerated pout.
"Mark!" Derek exclaimed.
"I'm sorry! It was a moment of excitement! I had to tell someone I was going to be an uncle!" he defended himself, raising his hands.
Callie laughed out loud. "Oh, how is Addison? Is she happy? Is she nervous? Oh, she loves babies!"
"She's... fine. Happy. You know, pregnant," Derek replied with a half-nervous smile. "She's five months along already..."
Callie's eyes widened, and she placed a hand on her chest with feigned drama.
"Five!? Wow, Connecticut is fertile ground!" she joked mischievously.
"Did you also tell her about Connecticut?!" Derek exclaimed, turning to Mark with indignation.
Mark made a guilty face, shrugging.
"She's the mother of my child... there are no secrets in the parents' group chat..."
"Don't worry, we're not ones to judge you," Callie added. "You know, Sofia..."
"We made her in a locker room the same day Arizona went to Malawi," Mark laughed, "barely after you came back from the airport."
"In a locker room? I thought it was in the shower of your apartment. You know, after Cristina's party. When I asked you for a sorbet..."
"Oh, right! 'For a palate-cleansing sorbet,'" he said, winking.
They both laughed. Derek simply sighed and looked at his watch. 07:16 a.m.; he had a surgery scheduled in less than twenty minutes and was already running late to talk to Owen about his resignation. He would have to communicate it at the end of his shift.
"If you'll excuse me, I need to get ready for surgery. I'd appreciate it if you didn't divulge my personal matters through the halls... or the group chats."
~•~
Derek's reaction hadn't been as terrible as Addison imagined.
And that, in itself, was already disconcerting.
She had spent whole weeks preparing for the worst. It was almost instinct, an old programming embedded in her chest like an operating system that couldn't be uninstalled. Addison always anticipated the catastrophic. She always expected the blow before it came. It was her way of protecting herself: if she imagined all the horrible scenarios, maybe it would hurt less when one of them became reality.
So she mentally geared up for a storm: shouting, accusations, blame thrown around, tears shed. She thought he would accuse her of being selfish, cruel, and a liar. That he would ask how she could have hidden something like that from him. That he would make her feel worse than she already felt.
But no. None of that happened.
Derek didn't get angry. He didn't raise his voice. He didn't blame her for nearly five months of silence. He didn't judge her. He didn't avoid her, didn't turn away, didn't lower his gaze in disappointment. In fact, he was happy.
He was excited. Perhaps overly enthusiastic about the idea of having a baby with her. And that disoriented her more than any reproach. Because she didn't know what to do with that version of Derek. One who not only didn't punish her but seemed to want to be close, to be part of it, to support her.
Too much enthusiasm. Too much interest. Too much everything.
And while a part of her wanted to believe in that—in him, in them, in the possibility that something good could come out of all this chaos—there was another part that couldn't help but retreat. Because when you spend so much time awaiting impact, learning to lower the shield becomes almost impossible.
Derek wanted to be...
He wanted to get involved. He wanted to be part of everything. And she... She wanted that too... didn't she?
She knew that the best thing for her daughter would be to have both of her parents close. That was indisputable. Common sense, medical advice, and even the most mature part of her agreed: Elowen deserved an upbringing with both present.
But there was a vast difference between "being present in the baby's life" and "reestablishing himself in her mother's life."
And Addison wasn't sure she wanted that. She wasn't sure she could handle it.
Because Derek didn't just want to meet his daughter. He wanted to be part of it all. And although he had made it clear that he didn't plan to live with her—that he didn't intend to rekindle anything they had as a couple—he would be working at the same hospital. Again. As it had always been since she became a doctor.
Elowen wouldn't just bring Derek back as a father. She would also bring him back as a colleague, as a shadow, as a constant figure in every physical and mental space of her life.
Addison would have to see him every day. Much more than what shared parenting requires.
She would see him in the hallways, in the break rooms, in the operating rooms. They would share patients. Consultations. Emergencies. Sometimes, even complex decisions. He had even hinted that maybe he could join the practice... and she still hadn't responded because she didn't know how.
Of course, she could work with her ex-partners. She was perfectly capable of maintaining a good working relationship with them. She did it every day.
Sam and Pete were in the practice. They crossed paths in the kitchen, shared shifts, made awkward jokes with total ease. Even Noah, whom she had cared for more than she expected, was someone she could see at St. Ambrose without flinching. She had learned to coexist with the emotional remnants of her relationships. She had learned to make space without being affected. But with Derek...
Derek was Derek. And he would never be just an ex-partner to her. He was her ex-husband and now, the father of her future daughter. And those titles carried significant weight for her.
No matter how hard she tried to keep a cool head, no matter how much she attempted to analyze everything logically and separate work from personal matters... her body betrayed her every time he was near. Her heart would start to race as if it didn't understand that it shouldn't.
She became completely vulnerable—and perhaps foolish—in his presence. Because Derek was, and probably always would be, the love of her life.
And that made everything much more complicated.
Addison sighed wearily and gulped down the last sip of her herbal tea, which was already nearly cold. She left the cup on the kitchen counter at the practice and walked out at a leisurely pace. As she walked down the hallway toward her office, she bumped into Amelia.
"Hey, Addie. Did you leave home early? I didn't see you this morning," she said with a forced smile, trying to sound casual while nervously playing with the silver charm on her necklace. "Did you have breakfast here?"
The tension between them was palpable. They hadn't seen each other in two days. Amelia had avoided going back to her house, using Erica as an excuse to stay on duty at the hospital. She knew that Addison might be upset over what she did... and the silence had made that painfully clear.
She didn't even look at her. Just averted her gaze to the side, dodging her as if she hadn't heard, and kept walking. She entered her office and closed the door without saying a word.
That gesture was all Amelia needed to confirm what she already knew: Addison was hurt. And rightly so.
~•~
It was almost eight in the evening, and the hospital had fallen into that particular silence that comes when the day's rhythm begins to ease. Derek was exhausted. It had been a long day, longer than he had anticipated, and even though all he wanted was to go rest, he needed to talk to the chief of surgery.
He walked to his office, knocked lightly on the door, and before getting a response, he entered anyway. Owen Hunt was sitting at his desk, reviewing a folder while signing a stack of forms. He didn't look up when he heard the door open.
"Shepherd," he said, tiredly, "if you're here to complain about Nelson's patient, I was the one who permitted the surgery when you weren't around."
"No," Derek replied, his voice deeper than usual. "I need to talk to you about something else."
Owen raised an eyebrow but continued writing for a second before looking up. He noticed the serious, restrained expression on Derek's face.
"Make it quick. I have a pile of paperwork to sign before the day ends. What's going on?"
Derek took a deep breath and got straight to the point. He didn't want to delay any longer.
"I quit."
Owen's pen froze mid-word. He stared at him, as if needing to confirm he had heard correctly.
"Excuse me?"
"I wanted to let you know before I started the formal process with HR."
The news seemed to hang in the air, looking for a place to land.
"Derek, listen…" Owen began, straightening up in his chair, "We can discuss this more calmly tomorrow. What do you want? A raise? Reduced hours? I can adjust your patient load, reassign shifts, whatever you need…"
"No," Derek interrupted, maintaining his composure. "It's not about the hospital. I'm moving to Los Angeles."
Owen frowned, incredulous.
"Since when have you been thinking about this?"
"Honestly... since yesterday," he admitted with a bitter smile. "It's a personal decision."
Owen slowly leaned back in his chair, placing the pen down on the desk automatically. He crossed his arms over his chest, furrowing his brow slightly but not seeming angry. He watched him in silence for several seconds, as if trying to read beyond the words, decipher the emotions behind Derek's gestures.
He looked bewildered, not so much by the resignation itself, but by the emotional weight it carried. They had shared more than usual in recent months; they weren't close friends, but they were accomplices in certain silences. Derek had invited him several times to the woods to help with the construction of his house, and amidst the sawdust and lumber, Owen had felt comfortable enough to talk about his doubts as chief of surgery, his frustrations with Cristina, and even life outside the hospital. That's why it was hard for him to understand how that apparent stability was crumbling in an instant.
"Is this about Meredith?" he finally asked, his voice lower, as if testing the waters.
Derek cast his gaze downward. He stared at the floor for a few seconds, breathing slowly, before responding. He had no idea how much others knew about their situation. He had completely disappeared from the hospital for three days. That was a lifetime in terms of gossip.
"Did she tell you?" Derek murmured.
"No. But Cristina has been staying at her house for the past three nights. I figured something had happened between you two."
Derek nodded slightly, with a resigned expression.
"Meredith and I broke up."
"Is it definitive? Or is it like last time...?"
"It's definitive."
"Oh... I'm really sorry. But do you really think you have to leave the city because of this?"
Derek let out a deep sigh, as if he had just released a weight from his chest, and without saying anything more, he dropped into one of the chairs in front of the desk. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and covered his face with his hands for a moment. Then he slid them back, rubbing his neck.
"Addison is pregnant," he finally said, almost in a whisper.
Owen blinked.
"Your ex-wife?"
Derek nodded without looking up.
"The baby is mine. A girl. She'll be born in about four months, and I want to be there when she arrives. Not as a visitor who comes on weekends. As a father."
The silence became heavy. Owen swallowed, still processing what he had just heard. It was not common to see Derek this way, so determined and vulnerable at the same time. Finally, he slowly nodded, letting out a sigh.
"Okay," he said sincerely. "If that's what you want... I won't stand in your way."
"Thanks," Derek murmured. His voice carried a hint of contained emotion that didn't go unnoticed.
"You know how this works," Owen continued, taking on a more practical tone, "you have to talk to Human Resources and the Medical Staff Office to deactivate your credentials. And you should prepare your team. Choose who will replace you as head of neuro..."
"Yes, I know," Derek interrupted him with a slight gesture. "I wasn't planning on leaving without tying up loose ends. I'll stay for two more weeks. I'm gonna refer my patients to the other neurosurgeons, review the pending cases, and leave everything in order."
Owen nodded, recognizing the professionalism. Then he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, with his brow slightly furrowed.
"And are you okay with this?" he asked, in a more human than administrative tone. "With leaving everything behind?"
Derek took a second to respond.
"I don't know," he admitted. "But for the first time in a long time... I know where I want to go. And who I want to be with. And that, believe me, is a lot."
Owen looked at him in silence for one more moment, then extended his hand firmly.
"Good luck, Shepherd."
Derek shook it firmly, nodding slightly.
"Thank you."
He stood up and walked toward the door. But just as he was about to leave, Owen called him back with one last phrase: "You're gonna be a good father."
Derek turned around, wearing a smile that he didn't try to hide the exhaustion in... but neither the happiness.
"I hope so."
~•~
Addison had unblocked Derek. Obviously.
She had done it weeks ago, with the vague intention—still not fully formed—of writing to him at some point to tell him about the baby. But the day before, just minutes before he left for St. Ambrose Hospital, they had ended up agreeing to stay in touch.
She had given him the green light to write whenever he wanted: to ask about Elowen, to talk about whatever he needed, to share updates and news about the baby.
The problem was that not even 24 hours had passed since Derek returned to Seattle, and he had already sent a flood of messages. Now, after an exhausting day at work, Addison was sunk into the sofa in her living room, reading each one of his text messages with a strange mix of tenderness, guilt, and... exhaustion.
"Hey Addie, how r u?"
"Did u feel anything new today?"
"Did u see the baby today? Hows she doing?"
"Told Mark abt Ellie. He'll call u soon, hes thrilled!!"
"Oh n Callie knows too."
"Think maybe Arizona does too."
"Everyone's happy :)"
"Did u eat dinner yet?"
Addison sighed, tossed her phone onto the coffee table, and typed a short, almost automatic response: "All good. G-night."
She had no news to share. The baby hadn't changed much in that short span of time. Her belly was still the same size as yesterday. She hadn't seen the baby on the ultrasound that day; she had barely had time to breathe between patients. She had spent the last few hours sorting out paperwork to hire Jake permanently. He would start on Monday. And although that should have relieved her, the truth was that everything inside her felt more clouded.
Jake had been a point of anchor amid the chaos. He had been there in the toughest moments, providing a calm presence without invading her space or demanding anything. But now, with Derek so present, so insistent, Addison was starting to feel... overwhelmed.
Did Derek really care about her? Or was he only paying attention because Elowen was inside her? Would there be messages if the baby didn't exist? Calls, shared names, "everyone is happy"?
That doubt burrowed under her skin like a thorn.
And Jake... Jake had asked her that same afternoon if she was okay. Not if the baby was okay. If she was okay. He hadn't asked as her OB, but as a friend. And Addison hadn't known how to respond.
If she said she felt bad, it would be a lie. And if she said she felt good, that would be a lie too.
She felt a pang of fatigue squeeze her chest and closed her eyes for a moment, hoping the silence of the house would envelop her completely.
But it didn't last long.
The sound of a key entering the back lock pulled her from that restless stupor. She didn't need to turn her head to know who it was. A second later, Amelia appeared in the doorway with a wide, almost childlike smile, carrying two brown paper bags that looked about to burst from the weight.
"Hey, I'm glad you're still awake," she announced with an enthusiasm that clashed with the heavy air of the living room, "I brought offerings."
From one of the bags, she pulled out a pack of colorful marshmallows, melting chocolate bars, a box of sugary cereal with an absurd cartoon on the front, and at least three different types of candy.
Addison didn't move. She looked at her with a raised eyebrow, pressed lips, and eyes filled with annoyance.
"Are you really not gonna talk to me?" Amelia asked, putting the bags on the counter and taking off her shoes with the top of her foot.
Addison averted her gaze and glanced down at Milo, who was curled up like a warm ball on her lap.
Amelia walked over to the sofa, not taking her eyes off her. She sat down beside her with a theatrical sigh.
"Oh, come on, Addie. How much longer are you gonna stay mad?"
"I don't know. Maybe until you figure out what you did."
"I already apologized a thousand times," she complained, raising her hands. "I'm sorry! Do you want me to kneel? I will. I'll throw myself at your feet, I swear."
"I would've preferred if you had told me Derek was in town. A little heads-up. Something to prepare me before running into him in the waiting room and having him look at me like he had seen a ghost."
"I know... I fucked up. But, Addison, I did you a favor. You were taking too long to tell him. I was afraid the baby would be born, and you'd still be hiding it."
"And what if I had?" Addison snapped, turning toward her. "It's my pregnancy, my daughter, my problem! You had no right to tell him anything."
"I didn't tell him."
"Sure," Addison laughed, sarcastically. "You just pushed him toward me and let my belly do all the work. How considerate of you."
"Listen, Addison, I'm sorry. I know I acted wrongly, I know I tried to tell him more than once, and... it was wrong. I'm sorry. I should've told you I was gonna call him. Can you stop being dramatic and forgive me?"
"You keep downplaying the situation."
"I'm not downplaying it; you're just giving it too much importance. It's done, it's over, Derek knows, and he's happy. All the fears you had are gone. Get over it, and let's eat the stuff I brought."
Addison didn't respond. Her face remained serious.
Amelia silently looked at her, not smiling this time. Then she lowered her gaze and stood up without saying anything. She walked to the kitchen, opened one of the pantry doors, searched for two mugs, and began preparing the chocolate. Addison listened in silence: the clinking of the spoon against the mug, the sound of the microwave, the crinkling of a sugar packet. All of that filled the room while she kept her eyes fixed on Milo.
A few minutes later, Amelia returned with two steaming mugs. She extended one to Addison without saying a word. Addison accepted it reluctantly, her brows furrowed and her frown still evident.
She took a sip.
And, against her will, her shoulders relaxed. She exhaled deeply, closing her eyes for a moment. Damn it, chocolate was her weakness.
"It's so good," she admitted softly.
"Of course it's good. I'm a fuckin' chef," Amelia laughed.
Addison took another sip. The sweet flavor traveled through her mouth, calming her anger a little. Not completely. But a little.
Amelia glanced at her sideways, testing the waters.
"Can you forgive me? I don't wanna be at odds with you. I miss you... And I also miss annoying this little girl," she said with a small, almost timid smile. She reached out a hand and shamelessly rubbed her belly, just like she always used to.
Addison snorted a brief laugh. It was hard to hold it back. She took another, longer sip and lowered the mug.
"Okay..." she murmured.
"I knew the chocolate would help me."
"You won't always be able to buy me off with this."
"I know... it won't happen again."
Addison nodded slightly.
"How did it all go? I spent most of the time with Erica, and Derek didn't tell me much on the way to the airport..." Amelia commented in a lower tone. "He only said he came here. Is that true?"
Addison looked down, holding the mug between her hands.
"Yeah... we slept together."
Amelia opened her mouth in surprise.
"Damn!"
"No, no," she quickly clarified, "I mean, we literally slept together. We... just slept and nothing more."
"Uh-huh..." Amelia murmured as if she didn't believe it at all.
"I'm serious. We were having dinner here while talking about the baby, and... I told him some things that had happened these months. You know... the complications and all that. And... God, how stupid. I ended up crying in his arms and fell asleep. I woke up there, stuck to him, and it was like someone threw me back into my old life. It was so embarrassing for him to see me like that... I'm still ashamed."
Amelia looked at her for a second. Then she raised an eyebrow, with a half-mocking smile.
"Addie... I remind you that you and Derek didn't just sleep together countless times, but you also exchanged fluids and created a human life. I think falling asleep drooling on his shirt is the least embarrassing thing you've done with him."
Addison dropped her head back, exhaling hard.
"Thanks, Amelia. Really, thanks for that very specific input. I feel a lot better now."
"You're welcome," she replied, hiding a sly smile behind her mug.
There was a moment of silence. The kind of silence that wasn't comfortable but also wasn't hurtful. Just... heavy. As if both were waiting for the other to say something more.
Addison held the mug in her hands as if she could cling to it to stay afloat. She looked at the brown liquid but didn't take another sip. Not yet.
"He said he's moving to LA," she finally said in a low voice.
"Really?"
Addison nodded slowly, without looking away from the mug.
"And I don't know what... I don't know what to think. I don't know if he's just caught up in the moment's excitement or..."
"Or if he really loves you?"
"I wasn't going to say that," Addison murmured, tilting her head as if that word, love, weighed too much on her tongue.
"Because he does love you," Amelia said directly. "Both of you. You and the baby."
"Did he tell you?"
"Something like that. You know communication isn't his strong suit, but... yeah, he still loves you, Addie. Even before knowing about the pregnancy. "
Addison frowned slightly, hesitating.
She nodded just barely, with a skeptical grimace, and lifted the mug to her lips again. The chocolate wasn't as hot anymore, but the sweetness was still there, comforting. As she sipped, she felt the knot in her chest loosening just a bit... but not disappearing.
~•~
The rain was pouring heavily over Seattle, hitting roofs and windows with an insistence that seemed never-ending. The sky was so dark that it was hard to believe it wasn't even midnight yet, and the streets, glistening under the streetlights, reflected the lights with an almost ghostly hue. It was one of those nights when the world seemed quieter, heavier. As if everything, even the air, was holding its breath.
After talking to Owen, Derek left the hospital under the downpour, the hood of his jacket barely covering his face. The water soaked through to his shoulders, but he didn't seem to notice. He walked to his car slowly, as if each step helped him sort through the emotions still swirling inside him.
At another time, with a different story behind him, he might have driven to the trailer in the woods. Or maybe to Mark's apartment. But not now. Not with so much left unsaid, so much unresolved.
He took a left turn, almost on instinct, and headed towards Queen Anne Hill.
Meredith's house was lit up, despite the hour. From the car, he could see the silhouette of someone in the kitchen—Cristina, probably—and a soft light coming from the living room. He hesitated for a few seconds before getting out. He didn't want to create more chaos. He didn't want to interrupt. But he needed to talk to her before she found out another way.
He crossed the wet porch and knocked gently on the door. It opened after a few minutes.
"What the hell you want?" Cristina snapped, crossing her arms in the doorway.
Derek didn't respond. He was soaked, his curls plastered to his forehead, his face tired.
"Go away, Derek."
"Cristina…" he started, barely a whisper.
"She was very clear with you. She doesn't wanna see you anymore. Leave her alone."
At that moment, Meredith's voice came from behind her.
"It's okay, Cristina. Let him in."
Cristina turned, surprised.
"Mer…"
"I told you it's okay," Meredith repeated, as she walked toward the door. Her hair was loose and wet, she wore her gray Dartmouth long-sleeve, and her face was tense and tired but firm.
Cristina hesitated for a few seconds, then stepped aside with a dry gesture and went toward the living room without looking back.
Derek entered silently. The house smelled of tequila and wet wood. Lexie was sitting on the couch, a blanket over her legs, and greeted him with a quick glance before turning her eyes back to the television.
Meredith closed the door behind him. She crossed her arms and looked at him. There was no sweetness in her gaze. Only distance. Pain still fresh, unprocessed.
"I don't know what you expect to achieve by coming here," she said, her voice low but sharp. "You left. You chose to leave. And I chose not to beg you to stay."
"I didn't come for that," he replied, soaked, standing still in the middle of the living room as if he didn't know where to stand.
"Did you come to get your things?"
"No... I mean, yes. But I came to talk to you."
"Make it quick. Because I don't have the patience to keep listening to excuses."
"Can we go somewhere more... private?" he asked, feeling the sharp stares of Cristina and Lexie on his back.
Meredith didn't respond. She simply turned with a short sigh, laden with resignation, and started to go up the stairs without looking at him. Derek followed her in silence. When they reached the bedroom, she pushed the door open with one hand, let him go in first, and closed it behind them with a sharp click. She didn't turn on the light. The dimness was enough. She sat on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, back tense. She looked at him with a mix of defiance and exhaustion.
"You're gonna tell me the truth about the bra?" she asked, straightforwardly.
"I already told you the truth. It belongs to Addison. In February, I traveled to Connecticut for her mother's funeral... I accidentally brought it in my suitcase."
"You slept with her?" her voice sounded much frailer than she wanted it to be.
"We were separated at that time... I didn't cheat on you."
"You slept with her…" she repeated, this time it was an affirmation.
"Yes."
Meredith looked away, if only for a second. Then she fixed her gaze on him again, but not with surprise. Just with that kind of certainty that hurts more than any doubt.
"Did you go see her?" she asked after a few minutes. "When I told you not to leave... did you leave because of her?"
"No... I didn't leave because of her. But I was in Los Angeles for a patient, and... yes, I was with Addison. I went to her house."
"Stop. I get it."
"No, it's not what you think," he hurried to say, "I didn't sleep with her in Los Angeles. I... I just talked to her."
Meredith clenched her jaw. She could feel that this "just" would be followed by something more.
"Addison is pregnant," he finally said. "She's five months along..."
"And you're telling me this because...?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her effort.
"Because it's my baby."
Meredith nodded once. There was no change in her expression. Not a tear. Just that minimal gesture that said it all. Then she blinked, just once, as if that were enough to put her armor back on.
"Okay."
"Okay?" he repeated, raising his eyebrows.
"What do you want me to say, Derek?" she asked, now with tears streaming down her face without sound, without sobs. "That I congratulate you? That I'm happy for you?"
"No... I... thought you needed to know before I left."
"You're leaving?"
Derek nodded.
"I'm moving to LA at the end of the month... Addison has had a complicated pregnancy, I want to be with her in the last months, before the baby arriv-"
"I always knew this day would come," she interrupted.
"What?"
"I always knew you would go back to Addison."
"What are you talking about?"
Meredith sighed loudly.
"In the first years, I really thought you were in love with me, but once she left Seattle... I realized that you never stopped loving her. That what we had was just a distraction."
"Of course not! Meredith, I loved you. I loved you madly."
"Of course not, Derek. You were just so angry with Addison that you clung to the first person you found to cover the pain," her voice was firm but quiet, as if she weren't just speaking to him, but also to herself. "And deep down, you always hoped I would be her…"
"That's not true," he replied, with a tone that sounded more like confusion than denial.
But as soon as he said it, he felt it. He understood it with that cruel clarity that comes only when it is too late.
Meredith didn't need to tell him anything. Because deep down, he already knew the truth.
For a long time, he had wanted to convince himself that what he had with her was something new, something different. That what he had with Meredith didn't have to resemble what he had experienced in his previous marriage. That love could take on another form, another language.
But deep down, he had hoped for things from her that never came. And over time, those unmet expectations had discreetly disappointed him.
Derek had hoped that his new wife would care about his mother, his sisters. About his hobbies, his passions outside the OR. He hoped she would encourage him to return to New York from time to time. That she would push him not to lose contact with his people.
But Meredith wasn't like that.
She didn't have that kind of connection. She had grown up in a home where love was measured in absences, where affection was a foreign language. Her mother lived in the operating room. She didn't celebrate birthdays or Christmases, and her father had disappeared when she was a five-year-old child.
Meredith had learned to survive alone. To expect nothing from anyone. To avoid building bonds because she knew how much it hurt when they broke. And he knew that from the very first moment.
Even so, he couldn't help but desire it. To hope that over time, she would understand him. That she would accompany him to Christmas with his nieces and nephews. That she would learn their names, play with the little ones. That she would prepare personalized gifts with love, or cards with sweet dedications. Small gestures with his family, selflessly.
Addison did that.
She also hadn't had an emotionally present family, but she had an incredible way of transforming the pain she had carried for years into love. She kept the bonds alive. She was a Shepherd even before marrying him. She genuinely cared for everyone as if they were her own blood. She made an effort to connect, to support, to remember.
And Meredith did not.
With Meredith, Derek had become more isolated. He became more estranged from his past. More lonely. And at first, he didn't mind. Love filled him. Desire. The thrill of a new life. But over the years, it started to weigh on him.
He began to feel his roots drying up. That the parties had lost their magic. That the guitar was always stored at the back of his closet. That he was no longer the man who cooked hot dogs for a full house.
With Meredith, there was never a house full of family. Of course, there were always people around, but they were colleagues, hospital staff, other kinds of family.
And it wasn't her fault. She never promised to be someone else. The fault was his. For waiting.
For expecting that eventually, she would resemble Addison.
Not in the superficial. Not in the designer clothes or the high heels. But in the essential. In the invisible. In that ability to be his accomplice. His home. His true partner in everything.
Derek had hoped—though he never said it out loud—that Meredith would become the kind of woman who looked at him and already knew how he felt. Who noticed if he had a bad day just by the way he left his keys on the table.
He hoped she would be the one to reserve special dates for them. To surprise him with a cup of hot chocolate after a tough surgery. To drag him on a spontaneous getaway one weekend, or to one of the city's most exotic restaurants, even if he was exhausted, just because "they needed to laugh."
He hoped she would want to build a "we." A future full of those small, almost silly moments, but which he treasured so much.
He hoped that Meredith would think of him when planning her vacations. That she would plan to spend time with him, like Addison did, convincing him to take a break, to turn off his phone, to play at not being surgeons for a few hours.
He hoped to feel that they were on the same team. He hoped for that complicity, that familiarity. That way of reading each other with a look, of knowing when to speak and when to be silent. He hoped that, like Addison, she would disarm him with sarcasm. That she would be sharp, biting, quick. That she would argue with him intelligently and then forgive him with a sideways smile. He hoped to laugh until tears streamed down his face over things only they understood...
He hoped for so many things he never dared to ask for. Because if he asked for them, he accepted that he needed them. And if he needed them, he accepted that Meredith didn't provide them.
And that was the truth.
Meredith had loved him in her own way, without a doubt. But that way was different. Sometimes it was distant. Other times it was impossible.
She didn't anchor him. She didn't bring him back home. She didn't make him feel part of a family.
"Just take your things and go to her..." Meredith said, standing up.
"I never wanted you to be Addison..." Derek replied in barely a whisper.
"No. But you always expected it..." she replied, firm, without resentment.
"I'm sorry, Mer."
"I'm sorry too..."
And with that, there was nothing more to say.