The past hits

I want to meet her

Derek stepped inside, his eyes flicking around the house. It felt intimate, lived-in—a stark contrast to the sterile, empty space he called home. Toys were scattered across the floor, a soft blanket draped over the back of the couch, and Ellie's tiny shoes sat neatly by the door. It was a life he hadn't been a part of, but one he desperately wanted to join.

Meredith closed the door behind him and leaned against it, arms still crossed. She didn't offer him a seat or even a word of welcome, and Derek didn't expect one. He set the coffee and the stuffed animal on the counter, then turned to face her.

"I know I have no right to ask, but... how's Ellie?" he asked softly, breaking the tense silence.

"She's fine," Meredith replied curtly. "She doesn't know who you are, Derek. She's too young to remember, and I've made sure of that."

Her words hit him harder than he expected, but he nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "I want to change that. I want her to know me."

Meredith let out a bitter laugh. "You don't get to just walk in here and play dad because it's convenient for you now."

"I know," he said quickly. "That's not what I'm trying to do. I want to earn it, Meredith. I want to earn both of you."

She studied him for a long moment, her green eyes searching his face for any sign of deceit. "You don't just get to show up once and think that fixes everything."

"I don't think that," he assured her. "I'm not here for a quick fix. I'm here to stay."

Meredith shook her head, pushing off the door and pacing the small living room. "You say that now, but what happens when things get hard again? When I'm not perfect? When Ellie's not perfect? You've left before, Derek. How do I know you won't leave again?"

"I won't," he said firmly. "I can't change what I did, but I can promise you that I'm not that man anymore. I've spent the last two years regretting every decision that took me away from you. From her. I was selfish, and I hurt you. I'll spend the rest of my life making up for it if you let me."

Meredith stopped pacing, her back to him. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her head bowed. "You can't just fix me, Derek," she whispered. "I'm not the same person I was when you left. I've been through hell. I'm still going through it."

"I'm not here to fix you," he said softly. "I'm here to stand by you. However you need me."

She turned to face him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't know if I can trust you."

"That's okay," he said gently. "I'll be here, whether you trust me or not. I'll show you every day that I'm not going anywhere."

Meredith stared at him for a long time, her expression a mix of skepticism and cautious hope. Finally, she let out a shaky breath and nodded once. "Ellie wakes up at 8. You can stay until then. But if she gets upset, you leave. No questions, no arguments."

"Understood," Derek said, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

Meredith didn't return the smile, but she didn't send him away either. Instead, she walked to the couch, sank into the cushions, and pulled the blanket over her lap. Derek took a seat in the chair across from her, the silence between them heavy but not unbearable.