A/N: I have to be honest and say that I (in my own head at least) really ended this story with the last chapter. But I also like you all enough to indulge in a little sort of epilogue, even if it did take ten years to produce. Enjoy-
~-~-~-~-~-~
how long will this take
~-~-~-~-~-~
1 week later...
Addison stuffs her chilly hand into her pocket on the short trip from her car down the path to her door. Her fingers fiddle with the keys in anticipation of what she will be seeing shortly. Since she's left it's been mostly recovery. Getting used to the old routine, falling back on conversation with her patients, rebelling at the feel of her own empty bed. Sure she misses all of them especially Richard, Callie, and Miranda but life really is better here. At least that's what she keeps telling herself at night when she can't sleep. And frankly, she'd miss Derek but-
"Evening," he grins, sliding up the wall, jumping at attention.
He's been living on her deck since four hours after she landed. It's getting old. "Hi."
She jams the key into the lock, noticing his gaze linger over today's outfit like he hadn't seen it earlier. Right then she's not sure if it's because she's had a bad day or if she's just sick of everything in her life but it happens just the same. Inevitable in all reality. "How long are we going to do this?"
"When are you going to let me in, like the polite homeowner I know you are, so we can talk?" Derek counters, having had a copious amount of time to think about this. Living next to someone's door can do that for you.
"Never," Addison bites back, attitude definitely derived from her earlier run-ins with bitchy pregnant women who have the swollen ankles, backaches, and heartburn that she's always wanted.
"Well you have your answer then." He leans in quickly and brushes a quick kiss to her cheek. "Night Addie."
Addison nearly growls, throwing her purse inside the open doorway and then grabs the sleeve of the same shirt he's had on since Sunday and drags him in behind her.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I want you to leave," Addison simmers, slinking to her couch and flopping herself onto it.
Derek's never seen this place, just through the windows sometimes when he gets bored. Sam leant him a key so he could go sleep at his house, told him he would call if Addison left the premises but so far the spot by the door hasn't been too bad. She even feeds him most days, sometimes even joins him for meals. "I'm not leaving until you hear me out...and even then."
"Derek, I know this is hard but it's hard right now. It will get better. You should go back to Seattle and wait it out."
"Is that what you're doing?" Derek smirks and drinks in the atmosphere. The big doors facing the ocean are wide open, and he's competing with the noise, loving the fresh salt that drifts in off the waves. "Waiting it out?"
Addison grumbles to herself and then slips into the kitchen, loosing her shoes on the way. Two glasses of wine in hand she returns to find Derek tracing over the little knick knacks and framed pictures he used to know very well. She offers him the drink to distract him before he can reminisce over what once was, and they reconvene together, this time only inches apart. It takes a mere matter of seconds before his fingers begin to rub her nervous knee and he clears his throat prepared to use his closing arguments. All the facts have been presented, evidence admitted, jury hopefully swayed.
"I think that you don't want to believe we can have a future. I think," Derek pauses after catching her attention, "that you prefer we stayed doomed for eternity. It makes us a little less wrong, less screwed up somehow but that aside I'm doing what's right. I'm fighting Addison. For you. A lot late, and it's obviously not appreciated but it's all I can give."
"I don't-"
"You don't trust me," Derek nods. That was a little trickier than he had anticipated in the grand scheme of things. "There isn't a lot I can do about that and frankly I can say the same about you. But trust comes with time and that's all I'm asking for."
"Time," Addison repeats, mulling over the idea. "Here?" she asks minutes later, welling into their silence.
"Wherever you want. Here, Tokyo, Atlanta." Derek breathes in a sigh of relief. They could do this on the moon for all he cares.
"What about Richard?"
"He owes me some slack." And he may have already told Richard this leave was definitely going to be extended. He was met with a stern threat, and made to promise that he really wasn't going to indulge in any of the nonsense that happened a little over a year ago.
"We had time in Seattle," she reminds him.
"Yes, but apparently I was the only one convinced this would work then. We both have to try to make progress."
"Now you understand," Addison grumbles under her breath and then increases her tone. "What if it falls apart, what if we can't- I can't get past-"
"We'll take that step if you'll let us get there Addison," Derek smiles and pushes her back.
"This is serious," she mumbles as his lips begin closing in.
"I'm about to quit my job for the possibility of taking you out to dinner one night. I'd say it's more than serious."
Her reply gets muffled by his mouth as they re-ignite the one thing that she's been desperately trying to stamp out since before takeoff.
~-~-~-~-~-~
1 month later...
Addison knits her hands together impatiently, glaring at their new best friend, Dr. Rosenbloom. At the advice of her short-time co-worker, Violet, the pair sought him out after they came to terms with the fact that they had more issues than they could privately handle and are currently suffering from what Addison likes to call being emotionally stunted and communicatively challenged. She didn't, however, realize that it would be like this.
Therapy leaves them exhausted, fueled with residual anger and more often than not sleeping on cold sides of the bed. Today's session will be no different. It's difficult to put into words for another party the things you don't even allow yourself to delve in out of fear.
"Addison?" Dr. Rosenbloom asks once again, both he and Derek staring her down.
"Yeah?" she replies, stalling, wanting the damn timer on his desk to chime loudly.
"I asked you a question."
"He did," Derek smirks as she shakes her head at him. His role hasn't been much easier to fill but he's devoted enough to put up with all of the bad. Besides today's session has pretty much been all on her side.
"I..." she looks down at her whitening knuckles. "I...because...I don't trust...myself. I guess." she stammers out unconvincingly.
"You think you are likely to repeat the same unwanted actions in your relationship with Derek?" Dr. Rosenbloom carefully phrases.
"I won't...cheat...I won't. I just...ugh!" she shouts and her hands fly into the air frustrated. She's not a cheater, except she is, and she doesn't know what triggers it and how to control it. None of these are things she'd like to admit right now.
"Sometimes, Addison, our fears can keep us from being in situations similar to where a previous indiscretion took place. We sort of...put up fence and keep ourselves out. So what we need to do is find the right key, and then you can enjoy the freedom of being secure in your relationship, you understand?"
As her mind chimes off about the stupid little speech her mouth replies, "Yes."
"Good." Dr. Rosenbloom smiles. "That's really good for today. We have some time today so if there's anything that has come up lately, we can discuss that."
"No sex," Derek blurts out, unable to stop himself.
"Derek!" Addison screeches, mortified by his statement.
"It's okay," Dr. Rosenbloom coaches, trying to keep them both calm, well aware of what happens when they get wound up and feel the need to start yelling at one another. No one could say that they are no longer passionate, on the upside. "Derek, this is something you two have discussed?"
"No," he mourns sadly, feeling his girlfriend's eyes blazing a whole through his skull. "I thought we were good...but then whenever I try and...engage her-"
"Stop," Addison orders from her chair.
"You should talk to her about it. Maybe she is waiting for a reason," Dr. Rosenbloom tells him, and then grins when the buzzer behind him sounds. "Well, I suppose that's it for us. I will see you two on Friday. Nice work."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I can't believe you did that," Addison seethes as they enter the empty elevator. It's nine at night, their appointment carefully carved out of non-existent patient time and paid for heftily.
"I had no choice," Derek retorts, fingers finding the right button.
"You could talk to me first."
"Addie, forgive me, but you are never one to turn sex down so imagine my surprise when all I can get is a lengthy kiss. I don't know what's happening. Are you playing hard to get-"
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Me? Ridiculous? Addison we have had sex more times than the world is comfortable knowing about. I've seen it all. What is there to be afraid of?"
Her eyes trail down to the shiny black pumps on her feet, wishing the machinery would pick up some speed. "Nothing."
"Ugh," Derek groans, his fists balling. "Something." He relaxes, grabs her hand encouragingly, and nods. "Tell me."
"Well, what if...it's not...what we thought...and then-"
"It's always amazing-"
"Not always-"
"And then we try harder. I want to please you-" he watches her crinkle her nose prudely and smiles. "It's going to be better than the first time."
"I'd certainly hope so," Addison chuckles suddenly, recounting their twisted experience. Bruises were not in short supply after that adventure.
"You know what I meant," he replies. He didn't think it was that bad, though in hindsight he was really distracted.
"Yes."
"Can we try then?"
"Are you asking permission?" she asks distastefully, not wanting all of the romance to leak out of it.
"I thought we were at a point where it was warranted. If not then you better be on guard Montgomery."
"Oh really?" she teases, feeling him turn into her.
"Yes, really," he manages to reply before lightly kissing her lips and dragging her out to the car. "I'm thinking takeout Chinese, late night news, and maybe a bath. Thoughts?"
"I like it," she responds pretending to mull it over, car keys beginning to jingle in her hands. She's had her moments where pulling Derek into a closet in the hospital to release some tension seemed like a good idea but in the end she's busy proving it to herself, that she can keep her knees closed when it's important. In some ways she didn't understand how it was affecting them, always a couple for being overly touchy and thoroughly disgusting to their friends in the earlier days. "I'm sorry...it was a stupid girl thing."
"I'm glad you told me," Derek replies and then climbs into the car, welcoming the change of atmosphere. "What was that nonsense about a fence?"
"I stopped listening," she tells him honestly and waits as the engine roars to life. "You think we should try another one?"
"I thought Violet said he was the best."
"He is," Addison says, steering them out onto the bust road. "But he's driving me crazy. I'm more angry when I leave than when I go in."
"Me too," Derek agrees. "He's helped though."
"Yes," she acknowledges. More so than the other man up in the greater Seattle area. "We need to keep going."
"I wish we didn't."
"Me too."
~-~-~-~-~-~
3 months later...
He's got her near tears and if you asked him he couldn't tell you what the hell started the fight, or what was continuing it. She's gone completely off the reservation but with a few petty jabs he's back in the game, making her want to crawl into a corner and sob. He unfortunately knows that look.
Addison paces back behind the couch furiously. A couple offhand remarks about how she won't let him take up a permanent position with Charlotte King has started a raging fire about how she's uncommitted and about how he's desperate to find some roots and give reason to the trip besides her. Not pretty.
"I don't see what the problem is! It would be the same damn thing Addison, except my name would be signed on a piece of paper hiding in a filing cabinet upstairs," Derek taunts, relaxing into the arm of the couch.
"It's too soon!"
"It's been four months," Derek retorts, "Four months and then about thirteen years. Not too soon. You don't want this. God, you could've spared me the time and just sent me back to Seattle-"
"You wouldn't leave my front door, how the hell do you think I would've managed that?"
"You don't want me here?" Derek asks daringly, rising from his spot, and facing her for the first time since it all began. There's cold Thai food on the table outside and discarded bottle of wine waiting to make their horrible work day a little better. It's looking less and less likely.
"I didn't say that!" Addison shouts back, hands finding her hips, feet wildly stamping into the ground.
"Well you sure implied it."
"I didn't."
"You don't want me to sign some stupid contract and yet I live in your house! I sleep in your bed! I drive your car to work! But then I suppose that's what this all about right? Keeping everything on your own terms so you can control it. So you don't have to feel as bad when it falls apart, just like you plan for."
"No!"
"Why don't I just find my own place? I'll buy a car, sign my contract and live my life how I want it to be."
"I like you here," she squeaks suddenly, tears trying desperately to get out onto her cheeks.
"Just not with any sense of finality attached to it."
"I'm scared!" she screams, giving up. "You won't like it here, or you'll resent me when you realize what it's like- and it won't be what you wanted. I don't want to ruin your career. I don't want you to up and leave again when things start to turn sour. You can't leave me again!" She's in love again, and his absence would be the last wall finally crumbling down.
"This is not career ruining," Derek tells her softly, their argument dying of its own volition, a rarity in their history. Someone usually winds up on a couch or out drinking at a bar by the time they are done. "It's a good move for my career honestly and I like where we are at-"
"When we aren't screaming at each other," Addison finishes. The fights haven't been few and far between recently and she's felt mounting pressure to be someone other than herself. To try and squeeze back into the wife she once was.
"When we are on the same page it's nothing short of wonderful. Now come here," he instructs, ordering her back to the couch and flipping on the television for background noise. When she slinks toward him, wrapping her limbs around his neck and burying her face, he finds the courage to say what he's been wanting to. "We can't keep fighting like this though, our children will be emotionally scarred for life."
Addison keeps quiet, her secret buried deep, and tenses as his fingers move over her back to calm her skin. It's not even a conversation to be having at this point.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"She won't talk to me," Derek tells Naomi, falling her through the halls of Addison's work. "And your face says you know something."
"I know nothing Shepherd, go away," Naomi snarks back, hand tightening around her cup. Indeed, she has spoken to Addison about recent said fight but she can't disclose this even if she wanted to, doctor-patient confidentiality, thank God.
"Know nothing about what?" Violet asks, joining the pair as they march toward the break room.
"Why Addison is being so weird," Naomi answers back.
Derek takes it further, "She freaked out when I mentioned kids. I thought that it may be too quick but we've been together so long and we always wanted kids and we aren't getting any younger-"
Violet places a hand over her incredibly swollen stomach, ready to blow at any moment and shrugs, "She can't have kids."
Naomi flips around incredulously hunting Violet with her eyes, wondering how she knows, and Derek shrinks back to a less confident version of himself. "Violet!"
"But- I, she..." Derek drifts off, having nowhere to go. Addison was always going to be the mother of his children. He was going to watch her grow and run out to get tacos at three in the morning. He was going to tie her shoes for her after demanding that she take a leave of absence and they were going to decorate together, the baby's name hanging from the wall. He had dreams, he had visions of this very scenario.
"I'm sorry Derek," Naomi offers and turns the corner without him.
"There are other ways," Violet tells him, stalling, making sure he is all right.
"Yeah, I know. I always...imagined-"
"Addison will be a great mother," Violet says assuredly, but her words are lost as he drifts back toward the elevator with news he never thought was possible, and surely not the answer he thought he'd be receiving today.
~-~-~-~-~-~
8 months later...
"You do realize that this only proves how much you haven't improved in the last year right?" Naomi asks, Addison crouched down beside her, peeking through the blinds of Sam's house.
"Shush," Addison demands, and then perks up when a car enters her driveway. "See! Told you."
"You told me that Derek was meeting with a co-worker tonight, and that they would be at your house, because Derek told you. He also told you that you should be there to meet said co-worker...and yet here you are," Naomi nods and then tosses back the rest of her drink. Addison has always had a little bit of stalker in her but this is unnerving. Derek-and-Addison were never like this, and she hates to see them this dysfunctional. "Addie, he's not going to do anything." Privately, Naomi thinks, knowing Derek as she does, that the only reason for the Meredith thing was because of the Mark thing but she also believes she has never had the whole story so it's difficult to say.
"I know," Addison replies defensively. And rationally she does know that, even the girl side of her doesn't have any raised flags but this is what they've made and like an old ghost some doubts never leave. In the last few months she's come around on trusting him, dealing with him making her home his permanent residence, but some things are still hard. Her greatest fear is that they always will be.
"Well, let's go out then. Find Naomi a man." She pushes her friend's shoulder a little, causing Addison to lose her balance and topple to the floor loudly. "Nice."
"Nae," Addison whines instantly, feet scurrying back to their spot. "We can't."
"Why don't you just walk over there, introduce yourself, mark your territory and then come back undistracted?"
"Because," Addison answers slowly. "I don't need to do that."
"Except you do."
~-~-~-~-~-~
Derek had found that the days were easier down here in the sun. Also, though he didn't want to admit it, being away from Mark Sloan and everything that happened there made things better. He was mindful though not to forget about those things because they weren't in front of him. If he and Addison were to work then they would have to work in any city, under any circumstances. Thus arose the idea to revisit the place where they came from, a test of sorts. It helped that there was a case and it was Addison's turn for a vacation, not that she didn't protest about spending it in the rain.
All in all, it went well, he thought. His stomach did flip flops as Mark hugged Addison but it soon settled as she gave a quick jab about his nonexistent facial hair and why it was always there for a reason. It was reassuring to be there in the end. Having the support of Richard, Callie, and Miranda were things he severely underestimated. Even Meredith was not the undertaking he thought she would be, trying to stay the hell out of his path but cordial when greeted. She was dating, a little factor in aiding Derek in his choice, everyone had moved on from the scandal.
He squeezes Addison's dozing fingers a little tighter as they land roughly. "We're home."
She hums to herself before opening the tired eyelids that have been busy cursing Derek for booking the craziest flight home ever. No one wants to fly before the sun rises. What she doesn't know is why they need to be back by eight this morning.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Now, remember that you love me," Derek starts, instantly receiving a skeptical glance from the passenger's seat. "And that we've really worked through a tough year, and that I believe we are better now than we ever were-"
"What did you do?" Addison breathes out curtly, not in the mood for crazy antics, her head pounding as alcohol wades out of her system.
"It's a surprise," he grins anxiously. This could really go either way, but he's definitely pulling for the more favorable outcome.
"What I always wanted," Addison grunts, her eyes back on their way to closed as Derek enters the packed freeway.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"Addie." Derek pokes her arm, then shakes her, trying to rouse her from the near forty-five minute nap.
"Go-way," she mumbles incoherently.
"It's surprise time...and you need to be...charming, and pretty, but most importantly awake."
Addison stirs slightly, wiping the edge of her mouth, and reaching for her exhausted eyes. Drinks last night at Joe's until three in the morning weren't her best idea. "I think...I need to vomit."
Derek stifles his laughter, having had the presence of mind to cut himself off yesterday. "Ok, we can do that but...first-"
"No...now," Addison moans and pulls herself out of the car, stumbling to the flower lined path and spilling the contents of her stomach.
Shaking his head Derek retorts something about her being classy and then helps her straighten her fallen sunglasses. "Better?"
"Kill me."
Derek sends up a small prayer that the woman arriving in about five minutes will be able to look over Addison's hangover and see what a wonderful woman she really is. He follows behind as she ambles indoors, instantly heading for the stairs. "Wait!"
"Derek, no," Addison replies and finds the handrail. "Not now."
"You can't go to bed. The surprise."
"It can wait until I sleep this off," she tells him just as the doorbell rings.
"See...that's the thing, it can't wait. It doesn't...wait." Derek bites his lip as he hears her head back down the stairs, complaining all the way. He reaches for the door handle and takes a deep breath. It's life changing, what he's done.
"Ms. Barker," he grins, watching her negotiate her way through, arms laden with bags. "Morning."
"Good Morning Dr. Shepherd," she greets, confidently looking at the surroundings she has become familiar with.
"Right in here," he instructs, leading her toward the dying Addison. "Addie, Honey?"
"Der-" she stops herself, and sits up straight in an instant, eyeing the stranger in her home. Her stomach rolls with disapproval but she ignores it in place of watching the woman comfortably take a seat across from her, feeling his hand become intertwined with her own as a stack of papers comes to rest on the coffee table.
"Addison, this is Ms. Barker, she's handling our case, and Jennifer this is Addison."
"Our case?" Addison squeaks, running over past lawsuits in her head. They've never been sued together.
"Yes, our case," Derek affirms and drops his hand toward the side of the couch. "But first, there are two other people I need to introduce."
~-~-~-~-~-~
"I can't believe you did this!" Addison yells at Derek, trying to get her tone above the baby's pressed to her shoulder, not liking the way her head rattles around her skull. Thoughts of never drinking again fleetingly pass her mind, followed by thoughts of hunting down a bottle of red wine.
"I thought it was a good gift," Derek coos to the little girl in his arms. "Best anniversary present yet in my book."
"You bought us kids!"
"Technically, they were given to me," he points out, having worked very closely with that patient for the last three months, guiding her through a very rocky time in her life, and never hesitating when she asked if they would maybe want her children, so she would know they were in good hands. Addison even met Victoria once, not that she remembers.
"What possessed you to even think this was a good time for us to be having children?" Addison demands, swaying back and forth on her feet naturally, rubbing tiny circles over the blue onesie as if he had been attached to her since day one.
"We always wanted kids," Derek argues quietly, not wanting to wake either two week old twin.
"We're divorced."
~-~-~-~-~-~
2 years later...
It's easier to be thoughtful in the dim light of her living room, in the quietness of nothing but ocean waves crashing and tiny breathes snoring contently on her shoulder. Neither of those things have been common in her house for quite some time. It's been a whirlwind of a two years but she wouldn't trade them for anything. Reaching over to the end table carefully, she checks her cell, wanting to see a missed message from Derek, an explanation other than the ten second conversation they had much earlier.
She recognizes the urges to call him every hour, to creep around the hospital looking for something suspect, to check-in when it's not necessary but the desires are never cashed in because at the end of every day what's more hurtful than thinking Derek might be cheating with some blonde who doesn't smell like baby shampoo and laundry detergent, is letting him know that she still thinks he would. So she takes in the night, feverish child fastened to her body relentlessly, and waits.
Sometimes he wonders if she's tired of it. He's found that even now, some things are too difficult to bring up. Certain issues never change in their relationship and while the communication has vastly improved, they have continued to believe in blissful ignorance. So he can only hope against hopes that the children are enough to keep her busy, and that he keeps her happy, lest he come home and find Sam on top of her this time, and yes, there are days where he ponders it happening. Tonight she's on the couch though, Oliver strung over her shoulder, his train pajamas bunched around the knee. "Evening," he says softly, dropping his briefcase and toeing out of his shoes. "How's our little man?"
"He coped by screaming all day at Bizzy and Archer, not that I disapprove, and then sleeping in twenty minute intervals, refusing to be set down. How was your day?"
"Better than that. I can take him," Derek offers, his hands out. When they try to trade, Oliver awakens and screeches for his mother. Derek gives up and drops down next to them, pushing back the chocolaty hair on his son's hot head. "How's Nora?"
"She wouldn't eat dinner or her birthday cake, passed out on Archer at six, which he really loved, before proceeding to throw up all over the new rug just before Bizzy came storming in, shouting about how cleaning lady doesn't know how to do her job. Now she's asleep again."
"Rough one," Derek acknowledges.
"I've had better," she smiles sleepily, already feeling a touch of whatever their kids have managed to pick up.
He feels her cheek land on his shoulder and then squishes back against the cushions, settling in to watch the late night news. He leaves the volume low, staring at the surprisingly always inaccurate weatherman, grinning at his sleeping duo minutes later. Sometimes he wonders how he could ever question her; how she can be the same person she was three years ago. The woman who he followed on dates and gave him heart palpitations every time an attractive man walked nearby. The person who broke his heart and then put it back together by yanking him inside of the place he now calls home.
None of the historical pieces ever seem to fit quite right; the picture is better when he skips over five years of their life. The five years that can still make him question sitting on this very couch right now.
~-~-~-~-~-~
When Addison wakes up it's dark. Pitch black and she's no longer sitting. After a brief state of panic she feels Derek reach across the expanse of children littered between them and stroke her arm.
"Sleep," he tells her.
She peals her tongue off the roof of her mouth, shivering at the lack of blankets covering their bodies. "I think...I'm sick."
"I figured that," Derek replies sleepily, "when I managed to get you all the way up here without you waking up."
"Thanks," she mumbles, rolling carefully on her side, wishing to not get the stomach based illness Nora seems to be toting around. Then again her daughter always seems to have tummy issues when she is stressed, so it could be nothing.
"Anytime," Derek says and instinctively turns to face her. He can tell she's grinning, even though he can't see her.
"Maybe we can tell Bizzy it's the plague and she'll leave early," Addison jokes deliriously.
"Only if she takes Archer with her," Derek complies.
"I think," Addison yawns slowly, "we should just be thankful for the amazing piano recital that forced your entire family to go back early."
"It is the small things in life," he agrees, following her yawn, and feeling Oliver grab at his shirt for comfort before they both drift off again.
~-~-~-~-~-~
"This is cruel," Addison moans, falling into a heap next to Derek on their bed after getting both cranky, recovering children down for a nap the following day. The hot afternoon air swirls around them, coating their bodies with salty humidity. "The universe hates us."
Derek nods slowly, his head congested, stomach churning as she sinks down in his arms. "Where did they catch this?"
"Their our children Derek, I'm sure they manifested this in their own bodies to torture us with."
He laughs unwillingly at her bitterness and scoots a little closer, his skin slick with cool sweat. "They're lucky we love them," he answers with a grin.
"Yeah," Addison states reflectively. She never knew this kind of depth could exist, how her heart could be so encompassing.
Derek watches her slip off, as she does from time to time, going who knows where. He clears his burning throat to catch her attention. "So, if this wretched disease doesn't kill us first, what do you say we find some babysitters and take Saturday off?"
"Really?" Addison asks, her voice gathering at the end hopefully. She's been beating herself through the last few months with no end in sight.
"I think we deserve it, plus it's lucky number fifteen this year."
"Crystal," Addison breathes out stuffily, curling around a pillow and tracing a light pattern over his arm.
"Want a paperweight?" Derek smirks instantly. He hates their tradition of following tradition. He also hates that she is the best gift giver in the history of present exchanging.
"No," she mumbles, legs beginning to twist into the sheets as the warm sun pours over her body, enveloping her in a bath of comfort and drowsiness.
He watches her rest peacefully, waits until she is calm next to him. "Happy Anniversary Addie."
She freezes when she hears him, letting the words roll through her mind. She doesn't answer or reply, simply relishes the sound of his broken voice, the words hanging limply above them.
She still fears, every year, that it's the last time. It doesn't negate her happiness in the moment, however, and for that she is grateful. That she can worry and still be joyous; contemplative but secure for that second. It's an ongoing battle, day in and day out. In the end though, the thing that sends her squirming toward the warm spot Derek leaves as he dashes for the bathroom presumably to blow his nose, is knowing that while it hurts to be here, it hurts worse without him.
It always has, it always will.
~-~-~-~-~-~