Right or Wrong

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I returned to work the next day to be informed that Derek was away on a work thing but he was going to be back tomorrow. So I went on throughout the day as a normal intern doing my job. Although Cristina was my person, I didn't bother to inform her what had happened between me and Derek in the elevator the evening before as I wasn't really sure what had happened myself or where things were going to go. I told myself that if anything else was to happen Cristina would be the first person to know but for now the past event was something that only Derek and I would know about.

I was on my last round of post-ops before lunch, when I suddenly felt so nauseous and had this undeniably uncomfortable feeling in my stomach that was slowing progressing up my throat. I ran to bin as soon as I knew it was not going to wait for me to finish speaking to my patient. I had no eaten anything all day so nothing really came up except water and coffee but I knew that it was not okay for me to be around critical patients. I went to speak to my resident and let them know I was unwell which was so embarrassing since I had only been an intern there for just over a month and I was already taking time off because I was ill. 

I barely made it home and through the door before the next round of vomit decided to be thrown up. I raised to the downstairs bathroom and threw up my guts for the fourth time that day. I figured the best way to let it pass was to sleep and just let nature take its cause. So that's what I did. I slept for a solid 6 hours before I was woken by a knocking a the door. I stumbled to the door all whilst holding my stomach trying not to be sick again. It was Derek. The handsome man stood before me giving me 'puppy dog eyes' and asking to come in. 

'You can't come in. You'll get what I have.' 

'I really don't care. I could use a break from work.' He replied, still parted by the glass pane of the door. 

I willingly opened the door knowing that he was able to make his own decisions and if he decided that he wanted to be sick then that was his choice. I was secretly loving the fact that he had come to see me. It made me feel so much comfort and safety but I was hating that he was more likely than not going to see me throw up. I felt this urge to run to bathroom and hurl over the sink. I took a quick look or 'crap I'm going to be sick' at Derek and ran to the bathroom only to be followed by him and then feel his hand rubbing, in circular motions, on my back. He picked me up from the crunched position I was in and wrapped his arm around me to support me before walking us both to the living room, where he set me down on the sofa and grabbed a bowl from the kitchen, in case I decided to hurl again.

I felt so much happiness and like we had known each other for years, just by being laid in his arms and feeling his hands stroke through my hair. It may or may not have had vomit in it but he clearly didn't care. 

'Do you want anything to eat, Meredith?' 

'I have nothing in the house. I was meant to go grocery shopping this evening.'

'Well it's okay. I'll let you get some much needed sleep and I will be back in about half an hour.'

I had no idea where he was going or what he was doing but all I wanted to do was sleep.

Whilst Derek was out, doing what Derek does, I tried to sleep but all I could do was think about him and not in a good way. It seemed that whenever I was around him, I felt so comfortable and like it was meant to be but then as soon as I was alone, I was so scared. So scared of being hurt and being left. Scared I might end up loving someone so much that it kills me. Terrified of what might happen to me. To us. So many awful thoughts were racing through my head and making me doubt my actions. I wanted more than anything to allow him in and to be happy but I don't know if I can. Unexpectedly 45 minutes had passed and I had not thought of anything other than reasons not to be with Derek. I was so annoyed at myself and angry at him for being so likeable and caring. I didn't know how to tell him how I felt so I decided to avoid the inevitable and go upstairs to bed. I figured that if I was 'asleep' in bed, he would only come up to check on me and then leave me to sleep. I heard my staircase creek and then my bedroom door. Tears were rolling down my cheek but my head was faced away from him so he wouldn't be able to see. I felt nothing but pain and I had completely forgotten about the sickness. 

I went downstairs the next morning, still feeling sicky but feeling even worse about myself, only to find a stocked fridge and immaculate house. He'd been grocery shopping and come back and cleaned the house. This just made me feel even worse. I found a note that he had left on the kitchen counter, that read, 'GOODMORNING MEREDITH, I'VE PICKED UP SOME GROCERIES FOR YOU. PLEASE EAT AND DRINK PLENTY OF WATER. I HOPE ITS OKAY THAT I'M GOING TO COME AND SEE YOU AT 10AM AND CHECK UP ON YOU. DEREK'

It was 9:55 right now. I looked at the clock and burst into tears. Derek was early and slowly opened the door, which he still had the keys too since he had locked me in the evening before because I was 'asleep'. I quickly tried to wipe away the tears and make my eyes less blood shot than they were.  I turned around to see a worried Derek stood before me. He held a bag in his hand. 

'Meredith, what's wrong?' He said concerned and starting to walk towards me.

'I can't. I can't do this. I love what you are doing but I can't. I don't know how to let you love me' I replied barely making sense because I was crying too much. Derek dropped the bag and grabbed me, with both of his hands, by my forearms. Squeezing them so tightly so that he wasn't hurting me but letting me know that he was here for me. 

'Meredith, it's okay. Calm down. We can talk about this and be ok.' 

Pure guilt overdosed my body and mind. Why? What is wrong with me?





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