I Will Follow You Into the Dark

CHAPTER 54

Meredith spent the weekend alone. She had been miserable on the flight home. And she was hating herself even more for that. She should just be happy for Trent and Derek. She had never dreamed that they'd hit it off this well so soon. She knew that Trent was taken with Derek or he never would have stayed with him on his own. And she couldn't bring herself to dwell on the look on Derek's face.......only it kept flashing to her mind and refusing to be ignored.

When she arrived home, she found a note from Steve telling her that he and the girls would be back home on Sunday night. She already knew this of course, but she fingered the note lovingly as she pondered what to do with herself over the long quiet weekend. She wasn't due back at work until Monday. And going back in when she had actual free time on her hands seemed like a bad idea.

She unpacked and started the laundry. She smiled that Steve had obviously had the girls help clean up before they left for their weekend with his parents. They had tried--she only found a few things they had overlooked. Shrugging that there really wasn't much housework to do, she changed into pajamas and flipped on the TV. Scrolling through the listings and the cable movie rentals, she found nothing appealing to watch. She turned on some random "true" story about a Hollywood actor and stared mindlessly at the TV. Every few minutes, she would realize that she was staring at her closet.

More than frustrated with herself, Meredith went downstairs and opened a bottle of wine. Wishing it were tequila for old times' sake, she poured a large glass and sipped it. She checked her e-mail and did some more laundry. Out of things to do downstairs, she wandered back up to her room, purposefully NOT looking at her closet.

Opening a drawer and pulling out a book she'd long forgotten to read, she pulled back the covers and climbed into bed. She tried valiantly to get sucked into the latest popular novel, but she again found herself drawn to staring at her closet.

"Fine," she finally said out loud to the empty room.

Standing up and muttering to herself, she went to the closet and opened a drawer. She pulled out a box and, closing the drawer and flipping off the closet light, she carried the box back to her bed and put it down beside the spot where she'd been sitting. She drank another swig of wine and then another. She then stared at the box that had been calling to her all evening. She was petrified—completely afraid to open it.

She sat, rationalizing to herself about the fact that this was the perfect time to read what was inside. No interruptions. Nobody to see her if she cried. Nobody to require an explanation or ask any questions.

Unable to open the box without a boost, she got up and marched downstairs, bringing the rest of the bottle of wine with her. Refilling her glass and making quick work of most of it, she screwed up her courage and opened the box. Her breath caught as she saw what was inside.

She carefully lifted the journal Derek had used to collect her mother's thoughts and memories and ran her fingertips gently around its binding. Taking a deep breath, she opened the journal and tears filled her eyes as she saw his familiar scrawl on the first page.

"She still loves you, Mer. And she's so sorry....."

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Meredith sat for hours reading and re-reading the painstaking story Derek had spent hours compiling to help ease the heart her mother broke and to heal her wounds. When she finally finished reading, she closed the book gently and shut her tear-filled eyes as she leaned her head back against the headboard. He did all of this for me. Even though he knew I was married. Even though he knew I gave up on him.........



When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part
You roll outta bed and down on your knees
And for the moment you can hardly breathe
Wondering was she really here?
Is she standing in my room?
No she's not, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....



She sobbed loudly and painfully for a long time. When she thought she could cry no more, she sat up, dried her hands on the sheet around her and picked the journal up again. Attempting to replace it in the box, she noticed another smaller book inside. Squinting as her heart raced, she couldn't help but reach inside and retrieve it. As she pulled it out, she noticed a tiny tissue-paper wrapped bundle beneath it. Puzzled, she pulled this out, too. A gift? No. What is it?

Putting her curiosity aside, she returned her attention to the small book she had found. Sighing and opening it, she read the words enscribed in the cover. Her hand flying to cover her mouth and prevent the sob from escaping, she shook her head in disbelief. He had done so much more. He had written down his own memories.........the things that came to mind as he sat with her mother. The things he couldn't forget—even so many years later. She read until she was barely able to think. She smiled and she laughed and she sobbed and she sniffled back tears that would not stop. She was exhausted and emotionally fractured. Still, she couldn't put the book down. Just when she thought she couldn't stand any more, she came to the last entry in the book.



Mer, my love, I hope you don't hate me for writing this. I know it doesn't change the way that things turned out, but it helped for me to document my feelings for you, and I hope that reading that I never stopped loving you will bring you some comfort. The other bundle in this package may be one you never want to open. I considered writing its contents on these pages since I remember them word for word. But I realize that these letters that I wrote to you might be too much for you to read. So I've left them here and warned you so that you don't have to read them if you don't want to do so. Maybe you're comforted just knowing that I wrote to you even after I came back and couldn't find you. Funny, huh—that we were both writing to each other all these years. Well, maybe funny's not the right word, but you know what I mean.

I remain in debt to you for showing me what life and love are all about. And if you need anything—absolutely anything—don't ever hesitate to call.

Love,
Derek



When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering could you stay my love?
Will you wake up by my side?
No she can't, 'cause she's gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....

Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh


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Derek woke up several times during the night to check on Trent. He tried to be quiet, guessing that his son would think his late night spying was creepy or something. He had set up the sofa bed in his guest room/office for Trent, and they had even discussed ways Derek could make it more comfortable the next time Trent came to visit.

Trent slept like all kids—soundly and with a clear conscience. Derek stood, leaning against the doorframe and admiring his sleeping child. His child.....his and Meredith's child. He still couldn't believe that it was true. The last time he and Meredith had been together and stayed in bed for days giving each other endless pleasure they had made a baby.

It was only in the dead of night when Trent was sleeping that Derek let his mind go free. He made sure that his time with his son was focused and as happy as possible. That was easy—he was so happy that it was hard to think of anything else when he was with Trent. And he wanted this time to be so special.

But late at night, as he watched his son sleep, he thought about all of the other things he kept hidden from the light of day. He pictured Mer's face and her obvious mixed feelings about not sharing more of this father-son bonding time. He knew this had to be bittersweet for her. He was grateful that his enthusiasm and his need to respect her marriage had kept his brief physical contact with her platonic. Oh, the sparks were always there and the longing to hold her never waned, but he only let himself feel the raw need for her late at night when she wasn't there.


Now do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?
Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hands?
Would you get them if I did?
No you won't, 'cause you're gone, gone, gone, gone, gone....




He'd just hold on tightly to the piece of her that he could hold. He knew he'd never stop longing for her, but he also knew that his feelings for Trent were not just tied to her. He loved that boy already. And he expected their relationship to bloom and grow apart from Meredith.

Sighing and retiring for the night, he climbed into bed and clutched his pillow tightly. One lonely tear fell down his cheek, and he wiped it away. This would be enough. It was more than he ever hoped for. It had to be enough.



When you're dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part



Dreaming With A Broken Heart by John Mayer