𝙓𝙇𝙄.
THREE-STEP PROGRAM

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THIRTY MINUTES AFTER therapy ended, Charlie sent me a text message: 

Andrew needs me to stay longer in Boston, might need to extend the trip a couple of more days.

***

NEW YORK

How to break 'bad news' to Addison Montgomery-Shepherd: a comprehensive guide.

Step One: Preface your news with a week of doing exactly what she wants you to do. 

Go to Sunday brunch and hide your hangover behind a perky smile, make light and friendly conversation all while swallowing back the vomit that threatens to make an appearance. Don't roll your eyes when Margot compliments Addison and bombards her with admiration.

 Compliment Addison too (don't lay it on too thick though, she can smell a backhanded jab from a mile away). Pretend to not want to die when the women ask about your relationship status. Offer, perhaps, to cover Addison's drink bill. 

After brunch, send her a message: I'm so glad I went today, it's nice to have a nice girl chat. How nice. Spend the week being nice.

Step Two: Book a second table on the following Saturday. 

Balthazar's at eleven am. Invite Addison. Tell her that you want time for sisterly bonding and that you are craving a Bloody Mary. Wait for her to respond and inevitably accept. Look perfectly together at said brunch, no denim but consider investing in heels. 

Order her cocktail ahead and then wait— there, across the table with Addison in a warm little bubble of booze at Balthazar's, break the news.

Addison had hesitated on accepting my brunch invitation. I could tell because she'd taken a day and a half to reply when usually she was pretty immediate with texting.

I'd kept glancing over at the phone as Mark sat beside me. We'd been sat on the couch in my apartment, my cell phone on the coffee table in front of us. Mark was dozing lightly, having just come back from a long shift, a film playing muted in the background. My eyes had flickered between the subtitles of The Talented Mr Ripley and the blank, unresponsive screen that awaited Addison's reply. 

Finally, when the phone buzzed, I'd lunged forwards, startling Mark in the process. My boyfriend had opened his eyes and stared at me, watching as I read Addison's acceptation of my invite, a nervous smile unfurling on my face. 

He'd cocked an eyebrow and bit back a yawn, stretching his arms around the back of the couch.

"I'm sure it's going to go fine..."

Mark had been very optimistic about his own conversation with Derek. He was going to be matter-of-fact and casual about it: Oh yeah, you know your wife's sister? We're dating now... But how about that blastoma today? Insane right? 

At first, I'd told him that Derek didn't really need to be informed, but then I'd thought about it and realised that maybe Derek would be a tiny bit pissed off he found out through my sister.

"What's the worst that's going to happen?"

I didn't really want to think about the worst-case scenario.

Sitting in Balthazar's on a Saturday morning was definitely not my sort of crowd. I was surrounded by tables of Upper East Side clones, all who thought Saturday was the ultimately chic time to have a morning brunch. 

It was busier than it was usually on a Sunday; it made me think that all of these socialites drank a lot more at their Saturday night galas than they let on. I busied myself with my drink— I'd ordered a simple orange juice to start off, didn't want to get tipsy too quickly into this conversation. 

I needed to have a clear head for this brunch, admittedly the first time I'd ever been determined to be sober at a social event.

Addison appeared late.

She trotted into the restaurant and was led towards our table by a waiter; I spotted her immediately and watched as she struck up a friendly conversation with the staff members as if they were best friends. I didn't doubt that she knew every single server in this place. Addison had always been the social type and always left a fat tip too. 

Her smile faded a little bit when she noticed me at the table. Even so, I got to my feet and even did the air-kisses like she seemed to do with all of her friends. There was a suspicious look in her eye as she greeted me. It only seemed to intensify when she realised I wasn't drinking a cocktail yet.

"You're in a good mood," Addie observed, her eyebrows raising as she sat. 

My face was done up into this little smile that really fucking hurt. I was sure it didn't meet my eyes. She placed her coat on the back of her chair and breathed out loudly as if she was uncomfortable.

I was uncomfortable too. I was wearing heels. I hated heels. Of course, Addison looked like she'd just come out of an episode of Dynasty.

She was wearing a long Burberry coat and had her hair in this very tight up-do; I watched as she very elegantly crossed one leg over the other and didn't even bother looking at the menu when she ordered her food. 

Once the waiter had taken our orders, we were left just staring at each other, both on the edge.

"How's work?"

"Good," I said. 

It was. It was very good. I actually felt excited about a conversation for once. 

"I've been working in Ortho for the last week or so— had a guy who was stuck from the waist down in a wood chipper that other day. His bones were all mangled and—" The next table over gave me a very odd look, overhearing my words. I pursed my lips. "It's been busy."

"It's that time of year." Addison waved a hand around, shrugging as if having half mangled patients were the norm. "Valentine's day is, somehow, an excuse for everyone to just lose their minds." I didn't speak, just watched as she rooted through her purse, as if she was looking for something. "Talking of losing our minds on Valentine's Day... you excited for your birthday?"

Ah yes. 

The irony of a loveless child being born on Valentines Day. It'd never escaped me.

"I guess," I shrugged. "I'm not a big Valentines Day person or a big birthday person."

My sister rolled her eyes. "You're not a big holiday person as it is... and you only like New Year's Eve because it gives you an excuse to drink all night. Do you remember when we used to celebrate birthdays as kids?"

"Oh, what?" I frowned, trying to dive into the locked away childhood memories. They were covered in caution tape, bound and hidden at the back of my mind. "The annual barbie doll and twenty-dollar bill?"

My father had bought me a barbie doll every year until I turned fifteen. My mother had rather dispassionately written a birthday card and shoved a bill into it. They'd never given birthday or Christmas presents together.

My frown continued on that thought. "Archie always got the best presents—"

"You always did," Addie disagreed once we'd ordered food. I didn't want to argue so I just nodded haphazardly. "They used to buy me books. Always books— I hated reading. I remember Dad used to buy me and Arch books all the time. Anatomy books all the time—" She paused, finding what she needed. I watched as she applied lipstick in a compact. "Do you remember all of those dolls I used to collect?" Again, I nodded. "Grandma used to get them for me. I used to love those things. I have a storage locker down in Harlem filled to the brim with them."

"Maybe when you and Derek have kids I can be the cool Aunt that gives their nieces dolls for their birthday," I watched as Addison seemed to stiffen slightly at the subject, but she played it off very quickly. Suddenly, I really, really wished that I'd ordered a cocktail. My orange juice looked a lot like a pornstar martini. I cleared my throat and clapped my hands under my chin, continuing my go-lucky mood. "Hell knows Mom won't be the cool grandma, huh?"

"Have you spoken to her?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

I appeared incredulous. "Have you?"

"Yeah." Addison dropped her eyes to the table, rearranging the cutlery in a very jittery way. "She's on some retreat in the Maldives. Dad's fishing in Oregon." My mouth was in a very thin line.

"Sometimes I wonder why they even bother to stay married," Addison opened her mouth but then closed it very suddenly as if she was too horrified to respond. "C'mon, we both know they'd be much happier separated..."

It had been the question of the century. There was no longer anything keeping my parents together, all of their birds had flown the nest to New York and yet they were still together? 

I'd thought about it a lot. Many times I'd felt like just telling them to hurry up and divorce already. It was clear that there was no love between them and they were both white and middle class, it was definitely not a money thing. 

It was a very loveless, messy marriage and I often thought that they should end it before one of them ended up broken beyond repair. 

Addison, on the other hand, didn't seem to share the sentiment.

"Beth, they're our parents." She said it all in this very breathy voice that seemed to revert me back to when we were kids. "Show them a little respect— they're trying."

Shit. Don't say it. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"Well, they've been trying for the last twenty-nine years but—" 

Why isn't this drink alcoholic? 

I would've toasted my beverage but it felt very shit to do it with OJ. 

"Happy birthday to me."

I could tell from the look on Addison's face that I'd thrown this brunch out of the window completely, and she'd only been here for five minutes. She cleared her throat and drank half of her cocktail, appearing very flustered. We were silent for a solid three minutes, Addison suddenly completely invested in her cell phone. 

She was texting away— I wondered whether she was telling Derek that it was an awful idea for her to have come. She must've had suspicions right? I wondered whether Derek had pushed her to go, he always was the more optimistic out of the couple. 

Meanwhile, I texted Mark under the table.

I've already fucked it up.

Worst case scenario?

I didn't want to reply to his reply. I shoved my cell phone into my pocket and did my best attempt at changing the subject:

"How's Derek?"

"Good." Her reply was quick and short. We stared at each other for a few more moments before Addison added: "He's busy."

"Ah," I nodded, my lips turning downwards. "I've heard this is the time of year..." Addison glanced upwards at me. "Y'know for like... people losing their minds or something."

 A smile teased at the corners of her mouth. She rolled her eyes. 

"If it's any consolidation" I added, "He hasn't been responding to any of my text messages, almost thought he'd blocked me."

"He's overworking himself."

That was rich coming from Addie. 

In fact, both of my siblings were workaholics. The only difference between Addie and Archer was that she was married. Archer had broken up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago because she couldn't keep up with how dedicated he was to his private practice. 

I imagined Derek was feeling how Archer had felt when Felicity had spelt it out to him and asked him to cut down his hours. Another difference: I knew Addison and Derek would never split over work.

Half-heartedly, Addie exhaled very loudly, stirring her cocktail. "I'm actually hoping that we'll be able to have Valentine's Day to ourselves, you know? Maybe go out for lunch?"

"Maybe he'll finally eat here," I said, grinning as I knew how hard Addison had worked to try and get Derek to one of her Sunday brunches. She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, he hates it here."

 Addison looked around the restaurant, at the familiar interior of the place she'd made a habit to come to. The waiter smiled at her as our order arrived; I checked the time on my watch, it'd been twenty minutes. I was starting to think that dining with Addison had perks. 

Before the waiter left, I ordered a cocktail. Addison cocked her to the side. "Are you hungover?"

"No?" I said, confused.

She raised her eyebrows. I wasn't sure whether she was surprised or impressed.

"On the topic of Valentine's Day..." Addie had gone for her signature at Balthazar, some sort of egg dish with smoked salmon. I'd ordered a plate of monkey bread and proceeded to pull it to pieces. "How did that date with the nurse go?" I blinked at her, momentarily lost. My sister paused, about to take a bite of her food. "Ralph... was it?"

My date-that-had-never-happened was two months ago. I hadn't spoken to Addie about Ralph and to be honest, it hadn't even crossed my mind since I'd confronted Mark about it. 

I hadn't brought it up with Addison between the two events as I'd opted to internalise and pain over it in silence. Plus, the only time I'd seen her had been at that god awful brunch... I just shrugged.

"Nah."

Nah. It sounded so casual, but inside I was screaming. 

She was going to ask what happened with Ralph and then she was going to ask whether I was seeing anyone new and then I was going to have to say 'Yeah, Mark' and then her egg dish was going to end up on my head. 

Dear God, I could see my life flash before my eyes. 

I shoved a mouthful of cinnamon into my throat and sighed through my nose. Addison was raising her eyebrows in that very Addison way at me.

"Well... sometimes it just doesn't work out."

"That's a shame." That was Addison's automatic response. I could imagine her dusting it off every time it slipped out of her voice box. "Anyone new?"

I tried to play it cool.

"Oh, uh, yeah I'm seeing someone." Each pause had a shrug thrown in for good measure. Addison looked absolutely delighted.

"Really?" She grinned at me. "That's great! Do I know them?"

Suddenly, it felt very hot in here.

"Uh, yes, you do actually."

I wasn't sure what my face was doing, I'd lost control of all of the muscles in my body. While Addison grew increasingly more invested in my love life, I was seriously contemplating texting Mark and asking him to bail me out with an emergency work call. 

Oh? Really ANOTHER wood chipper accident? Why I NEVER— Sorry Addie, it's this time of year people really lose their— I must've paused for too long.

"Who is it?" 

I could tell in her eyes that she was going through the rolodex of people she knew. Did she think it was one of her social circuit friends? Oh fuck, what if she thinks I'm dating some Hamptons Mansion snob? Fuck— I know that face, she's mentally picking out wedding flowers...

Step Three of breaking bad news to Addison Montgomery-Shepherd: hope for the best.

"Uhh..." I swallowed the bile that threatened to appear. "Mark." 

Mark. Mark. Mark. 

"I'm seeing Mark," I said.

Silently, I winced at how terrified I sounded.

My sister stared at me, cocktail in hand. I've fucking killed her, was my first thought. She wasn't blinking. Her face was stuck in that excited smile. It was as if I'd been watching a film and the tape had gotten stuck. Her mouth was ajar and I had to watch as the twinkle in her eye very slowly died. 

Then suddenly, it was as if nothing had happened. She drained the second half of her cocktail (yes, my brain did note how alarming the fact that my sister had taken her cocktail down in two mouthfuls but it wasn't the most pressing of problems in the present moment) and let out a very loud laugh.

"Oh," Addison nodded, placing her glass very gingerly back onto the table. "I know."

I was doing some extensive forehead workouts today. My eyebrows rocketed up across my forehead as I echoed: "You know?"

"Mhmm," She said, just continuing to eat her food as if we'd simply been talking about the weather.

I felt as if I'd been hit by a bus. My initial response was fear. Was this the only reaction I was going to get? It reminded me of our mother, cool and refined and very impassive. It also reminded me of a volcano. Relief was not imminent. 

I knew that Addison was angry, it was only going to take time until she erupted. Shellshocked, I sat stock-still in my seat; the back of my head dared to ask the question: is it really this easy? The answer was no. A big red flag of a no.

"I was wondering when you were going to tell me about that... actually." 

Addie's tone was innocent but it gave me chills.

I sunk very subtly, wishing that I hadn't even brought Mark up at all. What had I been thinking? There was no such thing as a worst-case scenario. This whole fucking thing was a worst-case scenario— Mark?? Really Beth?! Out of all the fucking men in New York City, the one your sister hates the most? She was completely deadpan.

"Uh, I've been busy."

"Okay." She nodded but I knew that there was a lot of internalised emotions going on behind that nod. "You've been too busy to talk to me but too busy to sleep with Mark behind Derek and I's back for the last six years?" 

My face contorted into a grimace. Well, when she puts it like that...

"I was going to tell you."

"Yeah?" Addison challenged. "When?"

"Like... right now—"

She cut me off.

"Look, Beth, I really didn't want to have to give you that talk. Do I need to give you that talk?" When I didn't reply, Addison exhaled out as if she was exhausted. The topic of Mark seemed to completely drain her. "Okay then— I literally have an anti-Mark speech. I give this speech to friends that get too involved with Mark and then magically think that they're going to be the one exception to every single girl he's ever slept with—"

"Clearly you never gave it too Petunia."

"Petunia's an adult," My sister responded sharply. "She can make her own decisions."

"I'm twenty-eight, Addie." I shook my head. "I'm not a kid, okay?"

"Fine. Here I go!"

 She didn't seem thrilled. 

"I went to College with Mark. I know Mark," Addison said, "He's a dirtbag. I've never seen someone go through women so quickly. He makes fast fashion look slow. He really does... and I would love to be supportive of your love life but you know Mark too. Haven't you heard from Petunia how much he messed with her?"

I almost rolled my eyes.

"What I'm saying is," She said, shooting me a disapproving look, "I don't care what he's said to you to get you in bed... but he really doesn't care, Beth." Addison paused, shaking her head softly. "I really thought I wouldn't have to worry about you—"

"You don't know anything..." I said. "That stuff with Petunia— you really don't know—"

"Beth, I do know!" Something told me she really didn't. "I know what Mark is like and I know that Petunia really liked him and he just dumped her like he does all of the other girls he gets with— I don't want you to be one of those... He's not the relationship type—"

"He is, apparently." It was my turn to adopt the motheresque deadpan. I let out a laugh, affronted with all of Addie's words. "We're dating."

Addison didn't look impressed.

"Elizabeth-"

"Don't Elizabeth me," I wasn't impressed either. "Addie... I really like him and he's really trying—"

"Mark doesn't try, he just makes you think that he does."

"We're going out for dinner on Valentine's day."

 We were both trying. I knew that Mark wasn't the type for commitment but he was willing to try and that was enough for me now. He'd said, one night, face down in his pillow, that his last serious relationship had been with some girl in High School. In all honesty, I thought he just found commitment intimidating. 

"I have Valentine's plans... Ad, I haven't had them since Calum."

"Beth, I..." At that moment, Mark's text tone filled the air. I glanced down to read his message. As I did, Addison let out a long sigh. "I don't know what to say..."

"Just get behind me with this," My attention flew back to her. I was near begging. "Please, I don't want to fight—"

"Mark doesn't date." She seemed adamant on it.

"Well, he does now."

She stared at me.

It was one of the thousand times in my life that I would've loved to see the inside of Addison's brain. Sure, I was good at forecasting it, but I couldn't tell what she was going to do or say. It was terrifying, not knowing what to expect. 

I'd spent my whole life being able to anticipate exactly what Addie and Archie would do. I'd gotten good at it. It'd gotten to the point where nothing either of them could say or do anything that surprised me. I'd anticipated Archer breaking up with Felicity in June last year when he'd bristled at a marriage joke (the only thing that had surprised me was how long it'd taken him to finally do it). 

But here I was, watching Addison's brain tick over at she settled on how she was going to handle this.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," Addie nodded. "If you're happy-"

"I am." I smiled softly. "I know he's a dirtbag... but he makes me happy."

She almost looked heartbroken.

"He's not a good guy, Beth."

My smile turned sad. "He's trying to be."

Addison seemed to fall introspective in that moment. We both sat there comfortably. My drink arrived and Addison ordered another. The two of us just ate our food and let the sound of Balthazar settle into our bones. It wasn't until Addison's second cocktail arrived that I decided to do a true toast.

"Promise me," I began, holding my cocktail in the air. "Promise me we're never going to fall out over Mark Sloan."

The smile on Addison's face made me feel soft. "I can't promise anything... but I can try."