When The Truth Unfolds

Confession

Silence. The 15-minute car ride to her home was nothing but awkward yet familiar. Her flowery scent filled through his car mixed with the smell of alcohol she had. She was drunk but he knew she was not drunk enough. He knew it coming. Seeing her and all, Richard told him about it two weeks prior. He wasn't sure of what was about to happen, what he would do, how he would react to seeing her. But this? It was not this. All those years, he imagined this exact moment. All of the versions of it, he knew exactly what to do, he knew exactly what to say. But being in that moment was a whole different story, he never imagined it. He knew it coming and tried to get himself be ready but he will never be ready.

Funny how he recognized her. One sniff of her fragrance at the Bar earlier and he knew, it was her, even without turning to look to make sure it was her. And when he did look at her, she was all the same Meredith who took his breath away the first time he laid his eyes on her. She may looked a little mature, aged a little, and wore a more pained look than the pain he inflicted her five years ago, she was still radiant, beautiful as ever.

She said she does not want to speak to him, he understood that. He was after all the one that drove her away, sending her somewhere no one knows. But he can feel there was more than that. In the few months he had known her, he had gotten to know her like no other. She fidgets her knuckles when she felt uncomfortable, plays her watch on her wrist, circling it when she felt impatient waiting for something, and bites her lower lip when she was hiding something.

As she was getting her keys out of her pocket, he heard footsteps inside her house. He remembered her getting a phone call at the Bar earlier, said something about 'sweetie'. And he thought she must have someone in her life now, that didn't settle well in his mind, but also wondered because she never liked to call or to be called cheesy endearments as far as he can remember. But then again, five years had passed, everything changes, everyone moves on. Everyone had moved on, except probably him. He waited, he waited again, and waited more. Unsure of what to do after she left, even years after that, he waited for this to happen, for her to finally show up. The guilt of hurting her, of not choosing her ate him alive. It almost compromised his career, his relationship with Addison, his life. He had held onto this tiny piece of thread. He held onto her coming back.

Then when she opened the door, opening her arms to a little girl running onto them, as she carried her, he was stunned. All the way over her house, he thought there was someone, a guy, probably her husband or boyfriend. None of those appeared but a little girl. And then she said bluntly, she was their daughter.

*****

As he glanced around the living room, he noticed nothing has changed, except the few boxes that were stocked at the corner. He could not think well. He could not wrap around his mind of what had just been thrown at him. Understanding of not telling him about it was underrated. He hurt her, big time. He hurt her in the worse way possible, yes. But this, this was big. Hiding his child from him was indescribable. Was she trying to hurt him back? Was this her kind of revenge for ruining her life before? Five years. His kid must be about four now.

He raked his fingers through his hair pulling them hard as he released a long sigh.

"I'm sorry," he heard her say.

He looked up and turned to see her, arms crossed and her body leaned on the door frame, "Come with me to the kitchen," she commanded.

"Meredith," he said, "Ho...wha..." formulating words was impossible for him right now. Questions, he got a lot of questions.

Both walked towards the familiar kitchen where she reached for two mugs and started the coffee maker. As they waited, she took a chair to sit beside him as he crouched, placing both elbows on his knees.