The End

Chapter 8: Tainted Freedom

Patrick woke with a familiar feeling in his chest. It was an intoxicating mixture of guilt and excitement. He had wandered away from home both literally and figuratively. This morning he couldn't get out of his house fast enough. He poured his coffee and escaped from his house without being seen.

Today, Malibu wasn't far enough from home. His daily drive took him further down the coast than he'd been in a long time. As if his heart was unconsciously taking him to the time in his life when their relationship had hope. They had been on the brink of a future.

Traffic was light, a side of  Los Angeles he wasn't sure he'd ever see. To top it off, he'd found a parking spot easily. He parked his car and put on a mask. The Venice boardwalk was unlike he had ever seen it before. Completely empty, abandoned. It was a ghost town. Doors closed, windows boarded, spacious sidewalks. It filled him with a sadness. The passed time had never been more evident than it felt in that moment.

The ocean still sparkled the same in the hot sun. A view that he was quite familiar with. Truth be told he hadn't spent much time here, but it was enough to leave a mark.

The house was sleek and masculine. Clean sharp lines. It fit this chapter of his life because it brought a sense of order in the middle of the chaos. He'd bought it furnished because he simply didn't want to think about it. It was elegant but industrial. It was a modern piece of architecture perfectly nestled into one of the most magical spots in all of Los Angeles. The Venice canals. It felt European and fresh, his oasis.

Patrick sat at the table on the rooftop terrace. The views were spectacular. He pushed his sunglasses on his face as the hot sun settled in the afternoon sky. The ocean waves crashed in the distance.

The newspaper in his hand was failing at capturing his attention. Perhaps it was because he had so much on his mind. Jillian had left him, or he had left her. They had left each other. She was incredibly angry and yet she didn't know the half of it.

His life was in shambles but not the kind of shambles that left him wondering what came next. Patrick knew without a doubt what he wanted to come next. He just wasn't sure how they would get there.

Set life had grown instantly complicated when the news broke about Patrick's marriage. Though he was only days away from breathing his last breath as Derek Shepherd, he knew he had already made Ellen's life harder.

She had lied to his wife and somehow furthered a story she was never comfortable with telling. He had put her in the most terrible position but it would all be worth it in the end. Patrick had invited her to the house to apologize, to encourage her that it would all be over soon.

Truth be told, he was incredibly nervous. He had never had a house before, not one he could invite her over to. Patrick had never been a single, nearly divorced man. He supposed that the combination was dangerous.

She could stay here as long as she wanted, hell, she could move in with him. That kind of freedom was within reach. Patrick glanced to his watch. Ellen was a little late. Venice traffic was not the most enjoyable part of his new beach town life.

With a little sigh Patrick decided to head to the kitchen and open a bottle of wine. Both to calm his nerves and be a good host. Several moments later she appeared at his gate.

A smile broke his lips as he waved her inside. "Hi," Patrick leaned in and kissed Ellen's cheek. "Was traffic terrible?"

Ellen shifted her weight nervously. "Hi," she paused, "No.. I.." her voice didn't sound right. "I wasn't sure I was coming."