Running in Circles - Lexie Grey x OC

Remember All The Things We Wanted

Sunday Evening
Dexter Avenue — Eric and Lexie's Townhouse

Eric stood at the stove stirring a pan of pasta sauce. He checked the oven from time to time, making sure the chicken was done.

On the counter beside him sat an oven dish and several ramekins filled with ingredients—parmesan, mozzarella, parsley, basil—and three small spice jars labeled salt, pepper, and Italian seasoning. Leave it to Eric to turn something as simple as making dinner into a surgical procedure: organized, methodical, and spotless, with every dish washed the moment he finished using it.

He had insisted on making dinner, refusing to let Lexie do anything that evening. He'd noticed how exhausted she'd been lately. Alex's Africa project had taken up most of her time, and Eric wanted her to have one night where she didn't have to think about work.

The townhouse now smelled like garlic, tomatoes, and fresh basil.

A playlist drifted quietly from the speaker in the living room.

Normal.

Comfortably normal.

The kind of evening Lexie used to dream about when she was lying awake in April's room pretending she didn't miss him.

Now she had it.

The home.

The routine.

The man.

And she was about to destroy all of it.

Across the kitchen island, patient charts sat open in front of her laptop.

Lexie's eyes hadn't moved from the same page in several minutes.

She wasn't reading.

Wasn't thinking about medicine.

Wasn't even seeing the words anymore.

Just replaying the same conversation in her head.

Over.

And over.

And over.

Tell him.

Tell him now.

Tell him before it gets worse.

Tell him before somebody else does.

Tell him because he deserves to know.

Eric glanced over his shoulder. His brow furrowed.

"You've been staring at that page for ten minutes."

Lexie blinked.

"What?"

"That chart."

He pointed with the wooden spoon.

"You either discovered a groundbreaking diagnosis or you've forgotten how words work."

A weak smile tugged at her mouth.

"I know how words work."

"Good."

He returned his attention to the sauce.

"For a moment I was considering paging Neurosurgery."

"You are Neurosurgery."

"Exactly. Very efficient."

That earned a small laugh.

A real one.

God, she hated this.