Asystole ✷ Mark Sloan

𝟬𝟲𝟲 the sun also rises

\She couldn't tell them that she felt oddly neglected in this relationship, as if Derek was far more married to his career than her--

"So," Beth cleared her throat, in the same fashion that Addison had done not even fifteen minutes earlier. Immediately, Addison looked over at her, slowly preparing herself for what she'd grown to fondly call a session with 'Beth Montgomery: Unqualified Wine Therapist'. "How are things?"

Addison paused as the beginning of Dirty Dancing filled the television screen in front of them, black and white images of happy people flickering a cast across the room. 

The Neonatal surgeon took a long, drawn mouthful of wine, letting the alcohol fester at the back of her throat. She was convinced that their tradition of wine nights was something that came with their genetics, for as long as she could remember, it's all their mother had drunk. (Beth was convinced that instead of hanging blood bags for her plastic surgeries, they imported boxed Bordeaux Blend red wine from Napa Valley.) 

Although Addison was more inclined to Prosecco and Champagne, there was no denying that it was the poison of choice for the Montgomery women.

(In retrospect, maybe Beth had taken that sentiment too literally.)

No one could talk through problems like Beth. It was something that Addison had realised as soon as she'd started having martial problems. She seemed to have a sixth sense for conflict, be able to talk people down off of various ledges in various life crises. She thought like a lawyer, objectively and critically, pulling things apart and cross-examining the problems that Addison raised to her. Addison figured that it was one of the perks that had come from being engaged to Calum... 

(She couldn't bear to think what traits of Mark's would rub off.)

The face Addison pulled in response to Beth's question was enough of an answer. The surgical intern visibly paused and raised an eyebrow, trapped in the way that Addison grimaced to herself. 

The pause was brief. Addison finished half her glass within the silence. In return, Beth nodded to herself, seeming to get the message. It didn't particularly need to be said, but Addison threw it out there anyway:

"I think my marriage is falling apart."

She said it nonchalantly, with a shrug of her shoulders that made Beth freeze, dark eyes flickering over to her impassive sister. Her tone had been matter-of-fact, as if she'd just made an off-handed comment about the weather (but her words made the blood rush to Beth's ears). 

Blankly, Addison stared at the opening credits of the movie, already thinking about refilling her glass and refusing to meet Beth's eyes. The other surgeon just waited, wondering whether Addison was going to expand--

(Beth supposed that Addison didn't really need to expand. This brownstone said a lot: it was empty, just as it usually was. She knew that Addison had become accustomed to coming home to a silent and cold space. It wasn't something that Addison talked about often, maybe because she was too proud and took after their mother in the delusion that they constantly needed to appear perfect, but Beth could always tell when Addison was unhappy.)

"This was supposed to be a late anniversary dinner tonight," Addison continued, again staring deep into the depths of the television set in front of them. 

Beth's eyes routinely flickered between the two, lips stuck to the rim of her wine glass. 

"I'd booked Paolo's for a romantic evening... and then yesterday he comes home and tells me that he's decided, last minute, to fly to Georgia with Mark..." She let out a slightly bitter chuckle. "What am I supposed to do with that?"