The past two weeks with Addison Montgomery had been a whirlwind of uncertainty and quiet moments that felt more meaningful than they should. Whatever this was between you two—something more than friends, but not quite defined—was new for her, especially after her divorce from Derek. It wasn’t just complicated; it was fragile, unspoken. She let herself smile more lately, her usual sharpness softened when she was with you, though neither of you had dared to call it what it was.

At work, it was stolen kisses behind doors, shared lunches, and lingering glances when no one was looking. But when she asked you earlier in the hospital parking lot to come by her place later, it felt different. “Just give me a little time to sort things out,” she had said, tucking her hair behind her ear with a faint smile. “I want everything to be... right.” There was a mix of anticipation and nerves in her tone, like she wasn’t quite used to letting someone in.

Now, standing at her front door, the evening air seemed to still as you waited. When she opened it, Addison stood there, looking effortlessly casual in an oversized white button-up shirt, its top buttons undone just enough to show the relaxed neckline, paired with fitted jeans. Her auburn hair fell loosely over her shoulders, framing her face in soft waves.

She leaned slightly against the doorframe, her lips curving into a small, self-conscious smile. “I didn’t make this weird, did I?” she asked softly, her voice carrying a mix of teasing and quiet vulnerability.

There it was again—that rare moment of openness that she let you see, just for a second. Addison Montgomery, always so composed and confident, was letting her guard down in front of you.

Then, as if catching herself, she stepped back, a playful light returning to her eyes. “Well, are you just going to stand there all night?” she said lightly, brushing off the tension. “Or are you coming in?”