Don't mess with the Grey.

Chapter 32

"You're not done!" stated firmly Dr. Wyatt closing the folder on her knees.

"I know I'm not," snorted Meredith. "But with the amount of progress I've done, which equals zero, I'm not sure I'll be done in the next twenty years. So what's the point in me coming here every day? Just to raise my blood pressure?"

"You've made no progress because you're running in circles," went on the older woman. "You're avoiding facing the truth!"

Meredith shook her head silently.

"Yes, you are!" repeated Dr. Wyatt. "Because subconsciously you're aware it's going to be more painful."

"More painful?" she snorted. "Not possible."

"I assure it's possible," nodded Dr. Wyatt. "We'll get back to that. Now, another question. Where are you headed after work? Are you even going to finish work today?"

"I'm headed to The Archfield, as you're well aware of," Meredith gritted through her clenched teeth.

"You're leaving Addie, your sister, alone, at Christmas?" Dr. Wyatt squinted at her.

"She's not going to be alone!" argued Meredith. "She's got Mark, and Derek will be there too, I'm sure."

"Don't you think she wants you there? According to you, you're the closest family for each other."

"Are you trying to send me on a guilt trip?" exclaimed Meredith. "It won't work. I'm doing this for Addison."

"Oh, you're sacrificing yourself for Addison? Just like you're sacrificing yourself for Derek?" asked Dr. Wyatt with irony insinuating itself into her voice. "What a bullshit!"

Meredith opened her mouth, speechless, her chest heaving deeply.

"You're really good at that," commented Dr. Wyatt, shaking her head.

"At what?"

"Autosuggestion. You talk yourself into believing in something that helps to avoid coping with your emotions. You repeat it over and over again, it becomes your mantra. And you convince yourself it's true even if all the evidence to the contrary is screaming into your face. Or... do you?" her regard pierced through Meredith. "Do you really believe it?"

Wordlessly, Meredith turned her head from the riddled face of Dr. Wyatt and stared absent-mindedly at the fish tank on the small table near the window. The water hardly let any light, it was as murky as her world.

That conversation with Dr. Wyatt was yesterday, the Christmas Eve. Today was the Christmas Day and as such she had no appointment to attend to. She realized with bewilderment that she almost missed it. The verbal and intellectual sparring with the older doctor provided some much welcome relief to her secret feelings she couldn't confront otherwise.

She leisurely crossed the small distance between the hotel where she had checked in last night and the hospital. Her eyes glided over the laughing faces all around. There was something special about Christmas, even she couldn't deny it. There was something unique in the air, something unique yet recurring every year. Christmas, it made you want to be with the people you loved. Yet, she couldn't.

She wasn't the only one, she thought with a sad smile. Over the years, she learnt to fish out other hopeless cases from the crowd. It wasn't really that difficult. Those people, they were easy to read. They didn't look at their surroundings, avoiding the sight of happy families passing by. Yet, their eyes travelled back inadvertently as it was too enticing of a view. For a few seconds, one could even imagine themselves in their place. Just as fast, the image vanished and the reality sank in. And the lonely little people scurried away, pretending they didn't have a care in the world.