Seattle Move

17. Apologies

Amelia, wearing a long sleeved grey shirt and black jeans, stepped out of Derek's car and walked briskly towards the entrance of the hospital. Her boots clicked rhythmically against the concrete pavement, a nervous habit she'd developed over the years. The air was crisp, yet humid, typical of a late summer night in Seattle. As she neared the automatic doors, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before walking through them.

Inside, the hospital was as busy as ever. Doctors and nurses scurried about, tending to patients, answering phones, and updating charts. The sterile smell of disinfectant hung heavy in the air, mingling with the aroma of coffee and cafeteria food. Amelia made her way through the maze of hallways, her mind racing with thoughts of what had happened last night.

In the aftermath of Owen's drunken revelations, the hospital was a tense and awkward place to be, but she had a job to do, and couldn't let her personal life get in the way of that.

As she signed in for her shift, a familiar presence graced her. "Dr. Shepherd?" Owen said softly, touching her elbow.

Amelia looked up, her eyes still puffy from crying all night and a little more this morning, despite the eye drops she used. "What do you want?" she asked coldly, not in the mood to be professional with him. His eyes fell on her puffy ones, and he felt even worse. He had hurt her, badly.

"I just wanted to talk," he explained, "I know I said some things, and I was hoping to apologize..."

"Well, you can't take them back now," she said as she glazed through her patients for the night.

"I know," he said, "And I'll never forgive myself for it. But I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make things right. Maybe we can go to my office and talk—,"

Amelia put the iPad back in its charging dock. "I don't think there is anything you can do to make this right," she said. She walked off, leaving Owen alone with his thoughts. He knew that he had a long way to go to earn back her trust, and he wasn't going to give up so easily. So he followed her to the elevator.

Amelia's determined gaze met his as he walked in, cold and unforgiving. Her sky blue eyes, once a beacon of warmth, now glimmered with a mixture of anger and betrayal. Owen's heart sank as he contemplated the irreparable damage he had caused, and he stood to the back of the elevator, weighing his options. Once the rest of the staff had left the confines of the metallic box on the next floor, and it was just the two of them, he spoke up again.

"Amelia..." his voice trembled as he reached towards the panel to press the stop button. The elevator came to a sudden halt, and a bell sounded. "I didn't mean to say any of those things. It was just the alcohol talking."

Her body became rigid, her arms folded protectively across her chest as she faced away from him. "Is that it, Owen? You're just going to blame it on the alcohol, again? Is that supposed to make it all okay?"

He felt a surge of guilt and desperation, knowing his words were being heavily scrutinized. "No, no, of course not. I'm not trying to excuse my behaviour. I was wrong, so wrong. I shouldn't have said any of that to Avery and Karev. It was completely out of line."

"Well, it's too late now, isn't it?" Her voice was icy.

Tears of remorse welled up in Owen's eyes, but he kept them at bay. "I would do anything to take it back. I care about you, Amelia. I never wanted to say anything that would hurt you." Her resolve faltered slightly. "Please, give me another chance. I promise I'll make it up to you," he pleaded.

She shook her head slowly, still facing away from him as she stared at the elevator doors. "No."

His hope dwindled like a flickering flame. "Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.