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The headlights of Derek’s Range Rover illuminated the clearing where his trailer was located. Pulling his SUV next to Addison’s car, Derek turned off the ignition, but he didn’t immediately get out of the vehicle to go inside. Instead, his mind drifted to the day’s events.
This wasn’t the first time one of his cases had touched him, truly bringing forth emotions. This time, however, it was different. Mr. and Mrs. Booker weren’t just a patient and her husband; they were himself and Addison. Mrs. Booker was willing to give up a chance at life just to spend a few happy moments with her husband, and sometime in a 15-year marriage, Mr. Booker had lost sight of the woman he had fallen in love with.
Derek wished he could pinpoint the exact moment he had stopped seeing the beautiful and spunky redhead who had captured his heart nearly 18 years before, but he couldn’t. Nonetheless, it had happened.
Sighing, Derek ran his fingers aimlessly through his hair. It had been almost a year since he had walked in on Addison in bed with his best friend. During all those months, Derek had been blaming Addison for the end of their relationship. He had been playing the part of the victim when he was really a part of the crime.
Mr. Booker had waited until it was nearly too late to begin appreciating his wife; he was lucky to even have a chance. But, maybe, Derek thought, he was luckier. He had a chance to amend his own wrongdoings before it had to come to life or death.
Heaving a heavy sigh and running a hand through his hair a gain, Derek slowly got out of his vehicle and began heading toward the trailer. A light emanating from the bedroom window let him know Addison was still awake. He just hoped she would listen.
With a sigh meant to steel himself for what he was about to do, Derek opened the door to the trailer. As he’d known she would be, Addison was awake, propped up in bed reading something. Pulling the door shut behind him, Derek began to shed his coat and called out, “Hi.”
“Hey,” Addison didn’t take her eyes from her magazine.
Slipping his shoes off near the front of the trailer, Derek started back for the bed. With the slightest of hesitations, he took a seat at the foot of the bed before laying down across it facing Addison. Watching her as her eyes scanned the text of the magazine in her lap, Derek suddenly couldn’t seem to remember what he was going to say.
Finally, noticing that he was watching her, Addison looked up at him over the rim of her glasses, “What?”
It was now or never. Derek inhaled deeply and allowed it all to pour out, “I was indifferent. You know, in New York, before Mark. I was just… indifferent toward you.”
The look on her face clearly showed that she was not sure at all how to take what he was saying so she warily agreed, “Yes.”
“And I was absent.”
Still confused, she repeated her previous response, “Yes.”
“I’m part of the blame for what’s happened to our marriage,” He finally admitted, feeling tears burning at the back of his eyes.
At that, Addison’s face changed, shifting from confusion to tenderness and appreciation, but her response was the same, “Yeah.”
It was time, he knew, to apologize, “I’m sorry. I’m working on it.”
“Okay,” The cautious smile she tried to hide made it all worth it,.
Derek nodded, having said what he needed to say. He pushed himself to a seated position and started his nightly ritual for getting ready for bed. He could feel Addison watching him, and he turned so that he could see her out of the corner of his eye. She kept her eyes on him, nervously fiddling with her glasses. When she saw that he was finished with his bedtime ritual, she set both the glasses and the magazine on the nightstand.
Addison continued to watch as he crawled underneath the covers next to her. Leaning over, he pressed a soft kiss to her check, “Night, Addie.”
“Good night, Derek,” Addison scooted so that she was laying down and reached out to turn off the bedside light.
Derek didn’t move, still propped up on his left elbow and watching her. The trailer was mostly dark, but a soft light from the full moon came through the window, casting a glow on the trailer’s inhabitants. Watching her silhouetted features, Derek recalled that Addison had mentioned something about Catherine Deneuve earlier. He had blown her off, ignoring the question. But as his eyes remained fixed on her, Derek noted that his wife did, in fact, bear a striking resemblance to the blonde beauty. Why hadn’t he ever seen it before?
“You do, you know,” He softly mused.
Addison, who was clearly not amused at being interrupted on her way to sleep, opened one eye and used it to glare at him, “I do what?’
“Look like her,” Derek clarified.
Opening the other eye with a sigh, Addison rolled onto her side and propped herself up with her right arm, “Is this one of those strange conversations where I need to turn on the light and give up all hope of sleep? Because I certainly have no idea what you’re talking about, Derek.”
Derek rolled his eyes at her over dramatic question before answering, “Catherine Deneuve.”
Addison’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly, and there was a trace of bitterness in her voice as she countered, “I thought she was a blonde.”
“I was… busy earlier,” Derek sighed, his gut clenching as he realized how often that had been his excuse for so many things, “I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. You do look like her in her younger days, though.”
“Thank you,” Addison’s lips curled into a full grin, and she hesitantly leaned forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.
Derek reached his free hand to brush across her cheek as she pulled away, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. His eyes still focused on her face, he lowered himself to his pillow. Addison mimicked his actions, laying down so they were facing each other.
“Good night,” Derek said as he watched Addison’s eyes already beginning to drift closed, a satisfied smile still gracing her lips.
“Night, Derek,” She whispered.
Although Addison clearly did not have the same problem, Derek couldn’t sleep. Her breathing slowed after only a few minutes, and he knew from the slow and steady pattern of her breaths that she had entered a deep sleep. Watching her, Derek was struck with yet another pang of guilt as he realized he couldn’t recall the last time he had lain awake watching Addison sleep.
She was a gorgeous and breathtaking woman when she was awake. With her makeup perfectly applied, her hair effortlessly styled, and her clothing fashionable and immaculate, Addison turned heads and made men stare. There was no doubt that the public Addison Shepherd, with her strong, no-nonsense personality and perfect style, was a knockout. Derek found that Addison fascinating, fun, and sexy albeit slightly uptight.
But there was another Addison that very few people ever got to see. That was the quiet brooding Addison that enjoyed afternoons curled up in Derek’s flannel shirts with a book. That Addison wasn’t bothered by her lack of makeup and spent no time fussing with her hair. She wanted to be reassured and to be held in strong arms. She was beautiful, and she was the Addison that had captured Derek’s heart.
Somehow, over the years of their relationship, Derek had forgotten that Addison. He had forgotten what it was like to spend entire weekends curled up together on the couch. He had forgotten the little joy of watching her pull her hair back into a messy ponytail as she stubbornly attempted the Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle, occasional curse words coming out under her breath.
Trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut at this realization, Derek leaned forward to press a kiss to Addison’s forehead. He allowed his lips to linger there, savoring her presence before pulling away and laying his head back on his own pillow. Finally, he closed his eyes. As he drifted to sleep, Derek knew it was time to remember why he loved Addison. There was no way he could ever fathom forgiving her, or repairing their relationship, if he couldn’t remember why he was in love with her in the first place.