How You Remind Me

7

I was still in a crumpled up ball surrounded by yards and yards of satin when I heard a car door shut. I was almost to the end of the journal and I'd completely lost track of time. I snapped my eyes up to the clock and gasp.

2:34 a.m. Crap!

The front door opened and closed. Double crap. I barreled myself to the bedroom door, tripping over my dress and almost taking myself out on the doorknob but I slammed the door close and locked it quickly.

"Meredith?" I heard in a muffled yet familiar voice.

Shit! Shit! Shit! I hissed to myself. I tossed the journal into my purse and reached around to unzip my dress...it didn't even move an inch before it got stuck. Damn!

I heard a light tap on the door. "Meredith, is that you?"

"Um!" I hummed out nervously as I hopped around and tried to yank my zipper down "Yeah, I'll be out in a sec."

"Are you ok, what's going on in there?"

"Nothing!" I called back and then tripped over the hem of the dress and crashed loudly against the floor. Ouch.

"Meredith!" he cried with concern. Really? I thought he'd wished something horrible and embarrassing on me like this. "Meredith are you alright!"

"Um, yeah." I grunted as I picked myself up "I'm...fine."

"Can you open the door!" he scoffed

I wanted to shout a big fat no. But my zipper felt like it had been superglued or welded on. I didn't have a shot in hell getting it off soon without him seeing me in it. I was shit out of luck. I swallowed down a sob as I tip toed to the door.

"Ok." I called through the door "But you can't make face, comment or react in any way."

I could hear him rolling his eyes "Fine, whatever just come out already."

I sighed and squeezed my eyes as I unlocked the door and slowly opened it with shame. His eyes and mouth formed three large 'O's and shock was an understatement. I glared at him-though I honestly had no right to. I was standing in 'his' bedroom after two a.m. in a wedding dress.

"Hey!" I hissed "I said no reacting!"

"Sorry." He frowned "I wasn't expecting that."

My shoulders slouched in shame and I pouted "I don't have an explanation. None other than I just wanted to try it on... just to see if it still fit. I'm sorry."

His eyes relaxed and held a hint of amusement, or something... I wasn't sure. I couldn't really read him anymore.

"Well I always said you looked good in that dress."

My eyes flashed up to his, I wasn't sure if that was a compliment or not. He used the word good instead of beautiful. But hey, it'd been eight months.

"Thanks."

"I'm sorry I didn't know you were still here. I would've waited but I thought you'd be out of here by now."

"No, no I should've been." I apologized "I just.... Um, fell asleep."

"Oh." He nodded once, he glanced around the room and shifted uncomfortably "Well I'll let you get dressed then, see you down stairs."

"Derek wait." I mumbled, he stopped and looked at my deep pout, I wanted to cry....this was beyond embarrassing, I sniffled-yes I was on the verge of tears "I can't get it off."

"What?"

"The dress." I whined and pointed to the zipper "It's stuck...it won't come off."

His eyes smirked but his lips hardly moved "Is that what you were doing in there?" I nodded slowly and hung my head, I heard him breathe a sigh of relief, I wondered what that meant "Turn around."

"Thank you." I whispered and did as he asked.

I closed my eyes as I felt his fingertips touch my bare back and linger a moment as his other fingers took hold of my zipper and pulled it down so easily, as if he were cutting butter. I wanted to scoff at said zipper, but I was actually kind of enjoying his touch.

It had been a while, it was warm, soft, comforting, and as it always had before...it made me feel safe.

"All done." He whispered after a long moment.

I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck and I sucked in a deep breath as if to savor this moment. I gulped before turning around and offering the best smile I could.

"Thank you Derek."

"See you downstairs." He said with a glimmer in his eyes.

I nodded and he disappeared. I shed myself of the dress and pulled back into my top, jeans and a sweater. I put the dress back into the bag and folded it with the other two over my arm.

I slung my purse over my shoulder and headed out of the room, down the stairs and found him in the living room already half asleep, by the indents on the cushions it looked like that was where he'd been sleeping lately.

He almost nodded off when he noticed I was in the room, he breathed deeply and stood up.

"All set?"

"Yeah," I nodded "Thanks again for letting me know..."

"Sure." He nodded "I didn't want it to go forgotten."

"Of course." I mumbled.

I opened my mouth to say goodnight but felt a crack in my throat and knew it would filter into my voice. I didn't want to cry...not now, not after all this time. I turned around and walked to the door but stopped.

If I was going to let these emotions hit me like they wanted me to I needed ask him something.

"What?" he said as I turned back around.

"Has there been someone else?" I forced out "I mean, when we were married and everything... was there anyone else?"

"No." he breathed, his expression showed me that me having the ask that question hurt him "Of course not."

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have asked." I whispered, my eyes misted "Its just... you let me go so easily. So I thought...maybe...there might have been someone else."

"I thought you wanted me to let you go." He said softly "I thought it's what you wanted."

I gulped.

"It was."

I turned and fled, it's what I did best lately. I'm sure he was confused as hell, but I needed to leave. My tear ducts only held me to the car before they started their down pour. I threw my things in the trunk of my car and got the hell out of there.

I drove home having to see through a sheet of moisture, it wasn't raining. For the first time in eight months, it hurt.

It hurt to be going home to a house that wasn't my home. It hurt to see that my husband was sleeping on a lumpy old couch, it hurt that his touch still affected me. It hurt that he gave me what I wanted...it hurt that he let me go for no other reason than to make a last ditched effort in making me happy.

I pulled into the drive way and made my way into the dusty old house that I grew up in.

I tossed my things aside in my bedroom and sat on the bed, I let the last of my tears fall and wiped my eyes with my fingers. I saw the corner of the leather notebook sticking out of my purse and I grabbed it.

I held it in my hands.

If I was going to do this, it was going to be hard. No more running, no more giving up, it was now or never. This was my last resort.

I opened it more than halfway, the page after his last journal entry and clicked a pen open as I wrote my own entry.

November 29, 2010

Dear Journal,

This is Meredith Grey. I've taken you hostage and I'm taking over from here. I made a lot of mistakes all of which I regret.

From now on, you'll get to hear about how I make Derek Shepherd fall BACK in love with me.

-M.E.G.