𝙇𝙓𝙑𝙄.
THE SUN ALSO RISES
──────
NEW YORK
THEY DIDN'T GET to do this often.
Just the two of them.
The two of them in the big brownstone, everything shut so tightly and the curtains drawn. She'd ordered some takeout from the other side of the city and opened a bottle of wine.
There was already a movie in the VHS player by the time Beth arrived, slightly windswept and holding two more shiny bottles of Shiraz. She flashed a crooked grin at her sister as she stepped over the threshold, glancing around the empty townhouse.
A 'Men in Surgery' conference over in Atlanta meant that Addison had the whole place to herself for the weekend. Both Derek and Mark had left the city for some brown-nosing and small-talking over beer bottles and stiff collars.
That, naturally, had resulted in Addison overhauling the brownstone and declaring Saturday Night as something both she and Beth needed desperately: A Girls Night. Just the two of them.
It was something Addison was vehemently excited for-- she needed something like this, something that felt real and genuine, an opportunity to fully relax.
She missed her sister.
They barely ever got to see each other between their crammed work schedules; with Beth's internship and Addison's new position as Head of Fetal Surgery at Bellevue, both of them were a lot busier than they would have liked. They only saw each other at dinner, but they were both tied to men who spoke a lot and tended to dominate conversation.
Their conversations over dinner had been reduced to a lot of knowing looks, vague expressions and half-smiles. They'd felt like the socialites at their mother's soirees, silenced by whatever dumb masculine conversation topic had been brought to the table-- inevitably, Beth would chuckle into her wine glass and Addison would amuse herself by pretending as if nothing was wrong.
(What was that? Oh, nothing Der, I just thought of something funny, go back to talking about football, honey.)
"So," Addison called out as she swanned through the brownstone, holding up two bottles of wine. "Do we start with the Cabernet Sauvignon, the Zinfadel or the Shiraz--"
"From the week I've had..." Beth responded, already settled on the couch with her legs pulled up to her chest. She looked exhausted, resting her head against the back of the seat. "I'll take all of them in a punch bowl..." Then she paused. "It's me, did you even have to ask? Shiraz'll do."
The older Montgomery sister chuckled, sitting beside her and letting out a long tired breath, one that made Beth laugh in return.
They each poured a large glass of wine and soaked in a prolonged silence, revelling in how quiet the brownstone was-- Addison swore that sometimes the whole city screamed and shook these walls, but silence was something she was slowly becoming accustomed to.
She was alone more often than she would have liked these days. Maybe that's why it was such a relief to have Beth sat beside her; she didn't talk about it often, but she was convinced that her younger sister was her best friend.
She wasn't dumb, she knew that the sort of friends that actually turned up to Sunday brunch were paper doll friends, the sort that were all for show and disintergrated when it started raining. She couldn't talk to them about how she was fighting more often than not with Derek and how he was barely home.
\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?"
She really didn't know what she was supposed to do with that. She hadn't even had the energy to argue over it; Addison had simply nodded, said 'okay' and then asked Derek whether he wanted to order out for dinner.
He'd been visibly surprised and she'd wondered whether that was what he expected from her now: some sort of cataclysmic reaction. Later that evening, she'd had the longest shower of her life, just staring at the ceiling thinking about things and wondering whether this was how her parents had felt when everything began to fall apart.
Addison blinked and looked over at Beth, seeing the look on her face.
Tenderly, the younger sister reached out and squeezed Addison's knee, giving her a soft smile. The sigh that left Addison's body was long and tired; she shook her head silently and averted her eyes back to the television. She waved a hand, trying to dismiss the topic completely, instead asking how Mark.
"He's good," Beth said, nodding her head softly. "Me too. We're good." She paused. "He was really excited to get out of the city for a few days. It's a shame we couldn't have all gone and made a vacation out of it," Then there was a second long pause. She seemed to mull over her thoughts before she spoke. "I don't think your marriage is falling apart."
Addison snorted, miffed at the statement, "You don't?"
"I don't," Beth confirmed. She spoke with a certainty that made Addison chuckle to herself bitterly, shaking the hair out of her face as she sunk lower and lower in her seat-- it was needless to say that Addison didn't agree with her. "Derek loves you so much--"
"He's barely even here," it had taken everything within Addison to not interrupt sooner. She cast her eyes around her home and laughed. It was an empty sound. Her wine glass wobbled as she gestured around to their surroundings, brow furrowed. "I'm supposed to have a happy marriage. I'm supposed to have kids by now. I'm supposed to be successful--"
"You are successful," Beth reminded her. "You're the best paediatric surgeon on the East Coast."
That caused Addison to halt. Her mind fell to a complete standstill, triggered by the look of bewilderment on her sisters face. Beth blinked at her, completely blindsiding the movie in front of them-- Addison sighed to herself and leant back in her chair.
(Of course, from a career standpoint, there was no possible way for her to be achieve more success than she already had but Addison wanted more. She wanted to make this house a proper home. She wanted family dinners with Derek. She wanted toys scattered on these floors and kids scrambling up and down the stairs. She didn't just want a successful career, she wanted it all.)
"Is it bad to want more?" Addison questioned, needing an answer far more than she'd ever let on. Her sister didn't respond, just tilted her head to the side. "I mean-- I know Derek hates Paolo's and that he would've preferred to just stay home but, I'm trying... I'm really trying."
She wasn't sure whether that candlelit table at Paolo's had been some sort of last-ditch effort at a remnant of romance or whether it had been a vehement self-sabotage.
Either way, Addison knew that her marriage had been 'falling apart' for way longer than the week they'd had the reservation for.
There was a downside to knowing what she wanted in life and that was, blatantly, the fact that sometimes things didn't go how it planned.
Addison was, for all intents and purposes, an obsessive planner. She knew how things were supposed to go, and this definitely wasn't it. She was supposed to be happy. Derek was supposed to be here. Not at work. Here. Derek, on the other hand, as she'd discovered, was far more interested in impulsive decisions.
She didn't even know why she'd been surprised when he'd suddenly declared that he'd booked a flight to Atlanta (maybe she'd just been hurt rather than surprised.)
Addison was, for lack of a better word, underwhelmed.
"I'm just... I'm bored," She spoke softly, leaning back against the sofa heavily. Beth didn't speak. "By the time Mom turned thirty six she was the chairman of the homeowner's association and the lead charity organiser for Feeding America in the Tri-State Area. She had the family and the career... and I have a husband whose more interested in spinal columns than sex."
Beth's nose wrinkled. "Mom also had an alcoholic husband who screwed his secretary on the weekends. You say you're bored but Derek having an affair is not the sort of excitement that you want in your life."
"From what I remember at least Susan was nice," Addison shrugged. "I can't have a conversation about a Pet Rock with a brain tumour." Despite the poor ambience, Beth chuckled to herself, turning her head back to the television. Addison seemed to realise something, playing back Beth's words to herself at the back of her head. "How do you do it?"
At first, Beth didn't seem to catch her question.
She was too busy watching the film to notice Addison's furrowed brow. But, after a pregnant pause and the increased weight of Addison's gaze, Beth turned her head, raising an eyebrow.
"Do what?"
"Put up with Mark," She said Mark's name as if he was in the room.
Her tone dipped and she ran a hand through her hair, shaking out her long, red locks. She sounded exasperated. Another chuckle from Beth, the sister just shrugged and leant her head on one hand, nursing her wine with a small smile. Addison rolled her eyes.
"I can't imagine he's the easiest to deal with--"
"I don't know," Beth interjected, tossing in a nonchalant shrug for good measure, "It's Mark... he's the same as he always is." Absently, she itched at her arm, glancing back at the screen. "I was surprised because he really wanted me to go to Atlanta with him. He wanted to make it a whole weekend thing..."
Addison felt her stomach twist.
She couldn't tell if it was out of jealousy or out of hunger for someone to want her to do the same. Why hadn't Derek asked her the same? She'd never been to Georgia before. Sure, maybe it wasn't her dream vacation destination (Cabo was very much up there and she was very, very tempted to book for next year) but it beat sitting in this brownstone all alone.
She refilled her wine glass and offered the bottle over toward Beth.
"Why didn't you?" Addison asked, her voice slightly strained.
She couldn't imagine Derek even giving her that offer. Perhaps ten years ago, back when they didn't bicker over everything and Derek wasn't constantly stressed and irritable over the smallest of things.
Even more pressing, Addison couldn't imagine ever saying no to an offer like that-- hell, she might have even said yes to Mark if he'd asked her.
Beth shrugged again, "Oh, work."
Such a nonchalant, blase response that reminded Addison so much of her husband. Oh, work. Addison's eye twitched slightly. It made her blink unnaturally fast for a series of seconds, attempting to regain her train of thought as it threatened to veer off-track.
Addison swallowed thickly and watched as Beth refilled her wine glass.
"What did Mark say?"
"Oh," Beth exhaled sharply, as if she hadn't really thought about it. "Well, he was disappointed. I think he really wanted to have a weekend away... but he understands. I mean, of course he does... he was a surgical intern once, right? He understands how hard it is to juggle everything and how hard it is to get last minute cover and--"
"That's something I never thought I'd hear in the same sentence," Addison interrupted with a laugh, shaking her head. She continued, only when she was prompted by Beth's raised eyebrows. "Mark Sloan and understanding."
A slow smile unfolded on Beth's face, "He's trying."
Those two words made Addison nod very slowly, a thoughtful expression unfolding on their face. What an inverted, alternative universe they were living in: a world in which Mark Sloan was trying and Derek Shepherd was a few seconds away from giving up. It made a terrible chill settle in Addison's bones, one that made her shift on the sofa as the television screen flashed with Jennifer Grey's face.
To put it simply, Addison wasn't sure whether she wanted to live in this reality. Derek wasn't trying. Addison might have been trying and trying and trying, but Derek wasn't at all.
"It's crazy," Her sigh was long, as if there wasn't enough air in the world that could satisfy her. Was that who Addison was now? A woman who could take and take and take and never be satisfied? She didn't want to know the answer. "I never thought I'd see the day..."
"What?" Beth asked, chuckling lightly and folding her legs under each other. She seemed genuinely interested, completely ignoring what Addison knew was one of her favourite movies. "Never thought you'd see the great Mark Sloan using his brain for once?"
"Mark Sloan inviting girls on romantic weekend getaways... Mark Sloan dating for longer than a couple of weeks... Mark Sloan leaving a toothbrush in someone's apartment..."
She listed it off as if she'd been keeping a record at the back of her head. (Maybe she had, Addison could remember every single thing that had happened between her sister and her boyfriend.
They were locked at the back of her head like a legal file, something that she couldn't help but compare with her own relationship.) Addison let out a breath and punctuated her pause with a mouthful of Shiraz. Her head turned to look over at her sister. She managed a genuine grin, one that actually met her eyes.
"Mark Sloan actually giving a damn about someone other than himself."
The expression on Beth's face was something she had never seen before. Not once in their time together on this planet, had Addison seen something so soft. It was a delicate smile, the sort that made Addison's heart throb by just looking at it.
Her brown eyes sparkled, her lips curled in a suddenly burst of bashfulness that turned her smile silly. Her cheeks flushed and she gave Addie a long look that filled Addison with the fire of surrender.
Addison watched this all with her tongue trapped between her teeth. She didn't even realise that she was holding her breath until she was almost blue.
Her fingers twitched against her wine glass, her skin itched under her collar and suddenly, Addison was hit with a hungry burn in her chest--
Mark Sloan giving a damn. Why did miracles like that happen, and yet Addison couldn't even get Derek to turn up for a belated anniversary dinner?
Their actual anniversary had been interrupted by a screaming pager. It'd sliced through their respectable conversation and left Addison with half a mind to just pull the batteries out.
It'd taken so much effort to get him sat at that table in the middle of that restaurant (Addison had ended up phoning her husband's secretary and personally rearranging his schedule so he couldn't find any possible excuse to avoid dinner) and they hadn't even got through their entrees. She couldn't tell whether it was the world over-indulging itself on irony or whether her luck was just that bad, but it'd been her pager, not his.
It seemed as though, on the evening of their tenth wedding anniversary, every pregnant woman in Manhattan seemed to burst into labor all at once.
She hadn't even been able to argue about it.
She'd just picked up her pager, pulled a face and then done the walk of shame across the restaurant. Derek had assured her that they'd reschedule. He'd told her that everything was going to be fine. He told her that it was just a dinner and that they could have it any time they wanted---
That had been three weeks ago and the flowers Derek had bought her were dead in their vase on the dining room table. She could see them on the other side of the room.
She wasn't even sure whether Beth or even Derek had noticed, but she couldn't stop staring at them from out the corner of her eye. They lingered like a bad omen. She really didn't want them to be a bad omen but she couldn't bring herself to throw them out.
"I really don't want my marriage to fall apart."
The words were subconscious.
She didn't remember thinking them. She didn't remember saying them. They just tumbled into existence and hung in the room like the unspoken elephant. There was something so sad about watching Beth's smile die; just like the roses on Addison's dining table, the expression crinkled and withered, leaving behind a shrunken line that was filled with regret.
Beth glanced down at her lap, tightened her grip on the wine glass and nodded. It was a delicate nod, as if she was so scared to disturb the air around them.
"I know."
They stared at each other for a few moments and, then very slowly, both seemed to come to the same conclusion. Addison let out a long groan and slumped against her, resting her head on Beth's shoulder. (She missed Beth's light smile at the gesture.)
Their stares resumed on the screen in front of them, the two of them collapsing into each other out of pure exhaustion. A light chuckle here, a muffled yawn there, the two of them coexisted in silence, only pausing their movie to make some off-handed comment on Patrick Swayze or how they'd watched this movie a thousand times--
"Mark hates this movie," Beth said faintly through a mouthful of popcorn. Her feet were in Addison's lap and she was watching a dance scene intently, eyes swaying across the screen with their every movement. From the other side of the couch, a slightly tipsy Addison gave her a flat look from behind a comforter. "I think he can't get over the whole Patrick thing from that wedding last year--"
"He might hate the movie," was Addison's reply, "but he loves you."
The silly smile returned, bringing with it, the crushing weight on Addison's chest. She had to look away, finding herself in a tense staring contest with Johnny Castle.
Sometimes, Addison wasn't sure whether or not she regretted suggesting that Beth invite Derek as her date to that wedding. Sure, it had resulted in her sister getting back together with Mark, but it also had left a metallic taste at the back of Addison's throat-- she was skeptical whether Mark had the capacity to love in the first place.
"I think he really hates the movie," Beth leant over, finishing the bottle of wine on the coffee table and shooting Addison an exasperated smile. "But then again... his idea of a good movie is anything with Tom Cruise in it." She grimaced to herself. "Questionable. But he's cute about it so--"
"Derek likes war films," Addison sighed, halfway through a yawn as she stretched out her arms. There was a near call in which she almost spilled her wine over the couch, causing Beth to wince from the sidelines. "I hate war films-- We literally spend all day saving people from dying and then... and then he just wants to watch a load of people get blown up! It doesn't make sense! More than questionable--"
"Oh god," groaned Beth, face contorting as she rubbed at her face, cradling her newly refilled glass. "I don't even like Tom Cruise. I took Nicole's side in the divorce. I've genuinely never seen someone so happy in their life..."
"If I watch The Sun Also Rises one more time I'm going to go insane..."
Beth let out a long laugh and shook her head, "He made me watch that movie a few years ago. I think he gave Mark a paperback of it for a Christmas once. He really likes Hemmingway, huh?"
Addison nodded almost numbly. She'd lost count of how many times he'd read that book or watched the movie. She'd asked him once and he'd said that it was timeless, the sort of book that never got old or overdone-- Addison didn't exactly know how she felt about the fact that this was her husband's favourite novel.
The story was all about leaving home and finding happiness elsewhere, turning away from everything the male lead knew and setting up a whole new life for themselves.
Was that the sort of thing that Derek wanted? Sometimes, Addison found herself anxious about it. Addison didn't particularly want a new life. She wanted this brownstone, this city and just one second of Derek's time.
Did Derek want a new life? Did he want to uproot himself, leave her in the dust and chase happiness over continental Europe?
Was she going to come home one day and find him telling her that he'd booked another flight-- not Atlanta, this time, but Paris or Rome?
Would he stay if she begged him?
"It makes him happy," Addison murmured, her vision blurry as she watched Patrick Swayze dance. Beth's stare felt heavy on her skin. Addison grimaced to herself. "He gets all excited about it. I don't know how many times he's read it in bed--"
"You make him happy too."
Beth's interruption made Addison smile.
It wasn't in the same way as Beth had smiled over Mark. It was softer, almost sad, as if Addison hadn't truly made up her mind how she felt about it. She rested her head against her palm and exhaled tiredly, suddenly thinking about happiness and her relationship-- Derek made her happy but Addison wanted to be happier.
"We keep arguing," Addison admitted, licking her chapped lips and sighing to herself. "Over work... over food... over the comforter at night... Arguing doesn't make people happy."
Beth didn't speak, just watched her sister with sad, empathetic and slightly intoxicated eyes. "
He doesn't even argue properly... he just gives up," Addison sighed, "There's a point where he just decides it's not worth it anymore and he stops talking all together. I want more than that, you know?"
(Beth did know.)
Again, Addison's eyes sought out the roses on the dining table.
They were faint and overcast, barely visible-- but she knew that they were there. Sad and neglected on the other side of the room, pushed into the corner and out of the way. They were trapped in a vase that her mother had given her as a wedding present, dripping in ice cold water and shivering from the winter chill. A few petals had fallen this morning. Addison had watched them go.
"Working makes him happy."
She was continuing because, for a second, Addison was so scared that it would stop.
She wasn't dumb. She knew what a marriage looked like when it fell apart, she'd watched her parents crumble, even after they'd had a last ditch effort to save everything with Beth's birth. She was scared that, at some point, she wasn't going to have this fear of losing Derek anymore, that one day he was going to be gone.
What was going to be it? What was going to be the breaking point--
"You make him happy," Addison jerked her head over towards her little sister, causing Beth's eyebrows to raise. "He loves you like a sister. I'm pretty sure he likes you more than his actual ones. He's so proud of you and your career... and he doesn't shut up about the fact you got in that competitive program at Manhattan West. I think the fact that you're with Mark too... your relationship makes him so happy, seeing two people who he cares about be so happy together..."
There was a very vague bitterness in Addison's tone. Her train of thought was clear as day: Why couldn't she make Derek happy, too? Why Beth? Why Mark? Why not his wife? Why couldn't she be a source of happiness for him? Why couldn't they be like Beth and Mark: so happy and so smitten?
It was the sort of feeling that Addison really hoped didn't grow into resentment.
"He loves you, Addie," Beth's reassurance was soft and gentle. She reached out and squeezed her sisters hand, feeling Addison tense below her. "Remember at your wedding... the wedding song... the way that he looked at you in that wedding dress." Addison closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, almost flinching at the thought. "It's the same way that he looks at you now, I promise you. You make him so happy."
"Then why? Why isn't he here?" Her voice was strained. "Why don't we have a family like we planned? Why don't we have a successful marriage--"
"I can't really answer your question," Beth snorted, chuckling to herself. She picked at the sleeve of her jumper and, for the second time this evening, Addison noticed how tired she looked. She had dark bruises under her eyes and, in the glow of the movie, her face almost appeared gaunt. "All I have is a broken engagement and a relationship with a man who is really, really scared of commitment."
She couldn't stop staring at Beth-- it was as if, for the first time, she was noticing how withered and overworked she looked. There was a slight slump to her shoulders, a constant yawn just lingering at the back of her throat.
Addison didn't miss how Beth clutched the empty bottle of wine almost desperately, as if it was the only thing that was keeping her grounded in a world that spun too fast. The desperation in the gesture made Addison's mouth go dry.
"I've never seen Mark look at anyone like he looks at you."
There was something so simple about that sentence. It was another string of words that Addison had said without even realising. It was another string of words that seemed to catch Beth off-guard. It was matter-of-fact, off-handed and the most honest, genuine thought that had existed in Addison's head for the past year and a half.
Beth lolled her head lazily, flashing another pristine smile that lingered on and on and on, even when conversation had changed and Addison had looked away.
(She really, really hadn't seen Mark like this before. It both scared and thrilled Addison to think that something so miraculous and unordinary had struck Manhattan.)
"I don't know what I'd do without him," Beth said finally, seeming to use the wine in her system to choose her words. They slurred very faintly, a giveaway that she'd already made her way through a whole bottle by herself. But then there was a pause, one in which they both, simultaneously sobered up a fraction. Beth's brow furrowed slightly. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
Addison didn't know what to say.
"I wanted to be like Mom too," She continued, barely fazed by her sister's lack of response. "I had a game plan. I was going to marry Calum. I was going to be the next Ellis Grey. I was going to have a big house outside of the city... maybe a kid and a cat and a nice car... I was going to have it all and now I just..." She pulled a face and looked over at Addison. "I'm in a relationship with a man who got spooked by saying that he loved me."
Immediately, Addison was transported back to the conversation they'd had all that time ago on this exact couch. There'd been a lot more crying, a lot more wine and the sting of rejection patterned all across Beth's face.
It'd been the exact opposite of this evening; Beth had lamented over how her relationship was in pieces and Addison had felt so relieved that there was someone in the world who had it worse than her. It'd been long and she'd felt so bad for her sister, but that relief had persisted and reinstated the realisation that things could've been much worse:
She could've been chasing a man who was so unfamiliar to loving and being loved.
"Would you do it?" Addison asked, her voice cracking slightly as Beth shot her a questioning, queasy glance. She couldn't believe that she was even suggesting this idea. "Marry Mark? If he just... If he just told you he wanted all of that too?"
Beth's cheeks flushed slightly, "You think he'd propose?"
"To be honest," Addison began, her nose wrinkling. "I didn't think you guys would last longer than the year. I meant it when I said that Mark caring about someone is so alien to all of us... I think this is the first time he's ever said he's loved anyone."
Beth stared at her, unblinking and appearing completely lost in thought.
"It's like this is all brand new," The elder sister continued with a short breath, "Who knows what'll happen? No one knows what the hell is going to happen next--"
"Yeah," Beth said suddenly, cutting Addison short. "Yeah, I'd marry him."
There was a pregnant pause. The confirmation took up a lot of space in the room, filling the cracks and crevices between their drunk forms. T
hey could both feel it pressing up against their chests, crushing the air from their lungs and causing the blood to rush to their heads-- Addison found herself smiling in a crooked way.
A crooked laugh fell through her lips and she shook her head.
Here she was, lamenting over a broken marriage while Beth had the world at her feet.
"You gotta let me help you plan the wedding," Addison drawled, reaching over for the third bottle of red wine. She weighed it in her hand and felt her skin chill at Beth's laugh. "Spring at the Plaza Hotel. I still have the number of my planner who was one of the best in the city-- just think about it, you in a dress... Mark in a suit... carnations and canapes... the way the sunset just hits right, just at the back of the The Terrace Room with that glow--"
"Okay," Beth chuckled, "Okay, okay okay-- You've got the job if that ever-- Well, if that ever happens--"
"What do you mean if it ever happens?" Addison sniped, suddenly drawing off of her frustration and jealousy to toss in a sharp, bitter laugh. "You guys don't even argue--"
A slight shadow appeared across Beth's face.
"We do," She said, with the striking absence of a smile. "Everyone argues... but I think we're getting good at resolving things. Well, I'm getting better. Mark's Mark. He's stubborn and he doesn't listen half the time. I think you're right when you said that sometimes he just doesn't know what to do... He's so inexperienced when it comes to something long-term... I..." Beth paused and seemed to search her own mind, "We handle it. It's like we're mad and then... and then one of us makes a cup of coffee for the other and then everything's fine again."
Addison felt her skin prickle.
She wished that everything with her and Derek could be fine, but then he'd bought a dumb plane ticket to Atlanta and now she wasn't sure what they were anymore.
"Sometimes, I feel like I'm on a sinking ship," Beth said breathily, her whole face contorting as if the wine had dragged out some very specifically unpleasant thoughts. "He's such a dumbass and I know that at any moment it might just all go to shit, you know?"
Addison could believe that.
"I know that it's not smart to love him, but I really do," Beth said, "I know that I shouldn't think about a future with him... mostly because no one has confidence in the fact that he'll even want me for that... but I do." A pause. "Do you think I'm crazy?"
There was something so sudden and fragile about that question.
There it was again, another desperate search for an answer that made Addison's stomach twist into knots. The older Montgomery sister stared into the bottom of Beth's eyes, seeing the chaos that constantly thrummed at the back of her head.
A moment passed. And then another. And another. On and on and on until Addison's throat was dry and all she could think about was how much she related to the feeling of just pure, unadulterated insanity.
"No," Addison said finally, the word feeling heavy on her lips. Her voice was dry and scraped through her body, scratching every inch of her respiratory system until it was just a light, breathless exhale. "I think you're in love."
What a mystery it would be, for years to come. What a red mark on Addison's ledger-- how was it that Mark Sloan of all people could be fine and Addison just wasn't at all? At college, Addison had seen Mark tear people apart.
She'd seen him take girls hearts in his own hands and squeeze and squeeze and squeeze until they were bruised and broken. She'd seen him dirty and shameless and looking down girls shirts, looking at one person while he kissed another--
She'd seen him look at women with something so thirsty in his eyes. She'd felt the burn of his insatiable hunger.
(Mark Sloan wasn't the sort of man who bought a diamond ring. Addison knew that. So did Beth. Why was Addison trying to convince her otherwise? Was it out of spite? Was it out of pure contempt that her sister had a man who would rearrange himself for her? Derek wouldn't even turn up to a restaurant that he hated. Mark sure as hell would never propose.)
What was she kidding?
"Look at the two of us," Beth said with a small smile.
It was a sisterly smile, as if it was interlocked with a long string of inside jokes and shared trauma. It made Addison actually pause for a second and think about how grateful she was to have her little sister.
"If Mom were dead she'd be rolling her grave."
"Hm," Addison mused, "You know what they say... The Sun Also Rises in each generation... they're just gonna have to get over it," Then she paused and rolled her eyes drunkenly, "I think Dad would be furious--"
"That man has no right to be angry about anything," was Beth's groaned response. She said it with a slight scowl, as if just the thought of their father made her vaguely violent. "He spent his whole marriage drunk and betraying his wife. He left us with a broken woman who had no interest in caring about anything but her botox injections and the neighbourhood potluck. I don't know how he even lives with himself--"
Her sister just sighed to herself sadly, slightly scorned by the conviction and hate in Beth's tone. There was something about betrayal in the family that really got under skin like an infection. Addison could feel it in the heat of Beth's voice (she really had their father's temper) and recognised the burn of it against her turned cheek.
Beth had always been so much closer to their father. She'd had much more of a relationship to lose. It'd festered in a distaste that Addison felt at half the strength.
"I don't know," Addison said quietly, "I always got the impression he was just a sad old man."
"I don't have empathy for cheats," was all Beth said in response. "He shouldn't have been such an ass." Then she paused. "I can't think about it for too long otherwise I just get so anxious that I'm going to end up the same..."
Softly, Addison turned her head to face her sister.
"In what way?"
"Betrayed," said Beth. She said it while hugging her arms to her chest and holding herself tightly, as if she didn't want to let go. "I think about it too much. I think about how Mark has never been so serious with someone before... and I get into my head, wondering whether this is all too good to be true. What if he has an affair and then I'm just... stuck with him like Mom was with Dad."
Addison didn't speak.
She was too busy thinking. She'd spent her whole adult like convincing herself that her parents had been fine, just as she'd spent her childhood and her obsolescence too. But the reality had been that they hadn't been fine at all.
Their Mom had stopped caring long between Beth was born, long before Addison had gotten old enough to even realise what was going on.
Their parents hadn't been fine, they'd been trying to shove their pieces back together with dried, useless glue for the whole remainder of their marriage and now their kids were paying the price for it.
"And you'd still marry him?"
Addison supposed that her question was innocent but her eyebrow twitched slightly, as if challenging Beth's previous response. The surgical intern in question blinked at her and then, very slowly, broke into a long slightly deluded laugh.
"Oh fuck," Beth laughed, nodding as she pressed her back into the seat cushions.
She laughed so loudly that suddenly, the room felt so much larger than it had before. The sound bounced around, ruffling the roses and causing the hairs to raise on the back of her Addison's neck.
She murmured into her wine glass. "I'm screwed."
"Well," Addison lifted her glass, cheeks throbbing in an unnatural smile. "Here's to fucked marriages, hypothetical or not."
"This ones for you, Bizzy Forbes," Beth cheered, crashing her glass into Addison's.
The two of them giggled, falling back into their gentle observation of the movie. Ever so often, Beth's eyes would drift back over towards her sister and Addison would feel the weight of her gaze. She was so watchful, so introspective that Addison had to look back every time.
Beth smiled. "For the record, you and Derek can get through anything... the 2000s, a nuclear war... a flatline... I know him, he's a good guy. He would never cheat on you. He loves you. I don't think he'd ever walk away, either."
Deep down, in her heart, Addison agreed. Derek was a good guy. If the world was a fairytale of heroes and villains, Derek was good. He was the hero who went through hellfire for people, he was loyal to a fault and would sacrifice the whole world for the betterment of one person.
She knew his inclination to work was more than likely more out of a sense of duty, as if he felt like his career was all for some greater good. It probably wasn't personal-- but Addison needed something personal from him, even if it was contempt.
"I don't know what I'd do without you."
She said those words to Beth with a gilded smile, a fond hand on her sisters calf, and sparkles in her eyes. It came from a place of genuine appreciation.
They were different to how Beth had mused that she didn't know what she'd do without Mark. They were deep and clean-cut, as if Addison had just expertly cut out her own heart with a scalpel and now cupped it in her hands.
As she'd said before, she genuinely missed these nightly conversations, the sort of kinship that came from two sisters in a city that often felt too big. Beth grinned back.
"Well," She began, her face already folding with a chuckle. "You'd actually have to hire actual staff for your charity fundraisers, for a start--"
"I think you're my best friend."
Admittedly, maybe Addison had just had a few too many glasses of red wine. Maybe she was a little too emotional and Dirty Dancing was just hitting a little too hard-- but she meant it.
She honestly, truthfully, with all her heart, meant it. She was able to speak with Beth on things that she wouldn't dare with anyone else and it was the first time she'd ever shown Beth how much she valued that.
The expression on Beth's face was somewhere between heartfelt and destroyed; she stared at Addison with wide, bottomless eyes that seemed to swim, momentarily, with the tease of tears.
There was a moment of silence, a couple of seconds in which Addison just realised how sad that sounded-- her best friend was in her life out of a biological requirement.
What a sad little life she was leading.
A slow grin unfolded across Beth's face. "If I ever convince a man in this universe that I'm worth it... you're my maid of honour."
There was something so impactful about that sentiment. Addison smiled wider than she had in the past week and found herself thinking about it for years to come-- Beth knew that Addison took friendships very seriously, as a woman who was surrounded by so many fake socialites with fake smiles and fake sentiments... calling someone her best friend was the greatest title she could give.
(It felt only natural for this to be Beth's equivalent: she knew how much being involved in a wedding meant for Addison. It was the only thing that would hold an equal.)
"You're worth it," Addison said, with a drunken well-meaning that made Beth's eyebrows raise. There was a sense of finality to it, one that made the two of them wonder whether they'd even remember this conversation in the morning. "It's just the guys that you choose that aren't."
Beth seemed to pause at that.
"You can talk to me about anything, you know that?" She continued, as if Beth wasn't still caught on Addison's very tiny jab at her current boyfriend. She spoke with the power of wine, able to completely blindside how she would normally act. "We need to do these more often. I know I'm not always great at listening but... I can try--"
Beth mused quietly, "Look at all of us... trying."
They were all trying. Addison often forgot what for, but they were all definitely trying their best. At the end of the day, all four of them just wanted to get by and achieve the best-- and they'd accomplish it, Addison just had to rebuild the faith that this last minute Atlanta escapade had torn apart.
The facts were still the same: she had a wonderful husband, a wonderful home, a wonderful family and a very, very successful career. It was what she did with it that truly mattered.
(In retrospect, with that thought, it was bittersweet to see it all go wrong.)