Set in season four, this story is what I'd need to see happen for Olitz to believe in them again. They have to stop hurting each other and the other people in their lives. They need to hit the reset button and decide if they can still have a life together. I don't know if they can, but I damn sure want to believe. Come on the journey with me, if you want! I promise angst, but I also promise love.

Chapter One

"Okay," he sighed, resting his face in his open palms briefly. "Okay. It's time to stop now." He spoke the words out to the empty space. Looking out into the warm glow of the dimly lit room he thought he should feel comfortable. If he were honest, he did feel a little bit comfortable. The office of the Presidency suited him. It was where he belonged. He wore the crown and he wore it well. It was a lot to give up for love, but he had always been willing. He was still willing. But it was hard to relinquish the crown when he couldn't be sure that love would be waiting for him at home.

The Oval had held such promise, such power. The moments he'd shared with her in that space, with Olivia—nothing would ever mean so much—nothing would ever feel so good. But they were done now, she'd seen to that. She'd told him in every way that she was done. It was he that was holding on. Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the third. He was the one who couldn't let go, who wouldn't let go. And Olivia Pope held on because she was loyal—because she didn't want to hurt him, because he was still her friend. That's what he told himself. It couldn't still be love for her. She wouldn't do what she did if she still felt love for him.

Getting to his feet, Fitz moved from behind the desk and walked to the center of the room. He stared down at the carpet, seeing its complicated and colorful weaved pattern up close made him dizzy. From afar the picture was clear, but from where he stood now it was mottled, uneven, torn in tiny places from where he and previous Commanders in Chief had paced to solve the crises of the world. The carpet reminded him of his relationship with Olivia—complicated, colorful, torn in places, and seemingly unending. But everything had an ending, and this was theirs. It had to end now.

He thought it would hurt more, coming to this resolution, but as he turned back to face the Resolute Desk, his eyes flitted over the photos placed upon it. Old habits die hard and Olivia still had her Secret Service detail. They still reported her movements. He still received photos periodically of the life of a woman who kept herself hidden from him. He should have learned better from his mistakes. The last time he had her followed she fell in love with the man he sent to report on her whereabouts. But deep down, he was glad. He needed to see it—he needed to know. He needed to know that she was done, that she had moved on from him and from their relationship. She held on now out of loyalty or habit, he couldn't be sure. But her actions told him what her words couldn't. She felt passion, attraction, desire for someone other than him. She could be happy for the rest of her life with someone other than him. The revelation had been staggering. But now he had sat with the knowledge. He had had enough. Fitz was ready now to say goodbye to Olivia Pope.

When the new Secret Service agent had knocked on the door to signal her arrival Fitz thought his heart would break, sink, or fall apart. But none of that happened. His heart lightened, his mood lightened. He was about to set her free, and if he could do this for her, if he could make her happy in some way, then he had succeeded.

Olivia didn't look happy when she flounced in. She looked furious. He took in her appearance and deduced that she had been nearly ready for bed, her hair pulled back into a sleek bun with her bangs swept to the side and held in place with a thin bobby pin. Her signature stilettos missing, she wore basic black flats and a scowl on her face. He didn't ever want to be the cause of that again.

"I'm sorry to disrupt your evening," he began. She huffed and didn't look like she believed him.

"What can I do for you, Mr. President?"

He knew she must be upset if she was calling him by his official title. He offered her a warm smile and it worked instantly to disarm her. She had probably been defensive. He guessed that she was ready for a battle due to her stance. But now his expression told her, Fitz hoped, that he wasn't angry. He motioned for her to have a seat and then walked a safe distance from her, back behind the desk. He put away the pictures without mentioning them to her. He didn't need to rehash how he had seen her show up at Jake Ballard's hotel room wearing a trench coat with nothing underneath. What he imagined was far worse than anything that the agents had shown him. It had been a cold shot of reality that had finalized his decision.

She cleared her throat and sat down, which brought his attention back to her. "I'm sorry, Olivia." He let the words hang in the air. He had meant to say he was sorry for losing himself in his thoughts just now, but he was sorry for so much more than that. Looking at her face now he saw confusion, fear, and worry mark her beautiful features; he was sorry for that, too. "I called you here because I need to tell you something. I thought it best to do it in private and to prepare you." In the same drawer that he had placed the surveillance photos he took out a different manila envelope. He stood and crossed the room to her long enough to hand her the envelope. Wordlessly she took it and opened it, her eyes scanning the pages briefly before looking up at him in shock and anger.

"What the hell is this?"

"Divorce papers."

"They've already been signed."

"They have."

"By you and Mellie." Her voice was growing louder. She got to her feet.

"Yes."

"Fitz, they've already been filed."

"Official at midnight. The President and First Lady are no longer married."

"Why?" The question seemed ridiculous. Of course she had to know why. He wanted to answer her anyway. Anything for her.

"I need to start over," he said, his own words surprising him. "I need to stop pretending with Mellie, and I need to stop hurting you. I need to be an honest President. I need that to be my legacy."

"I can still stop this," she said, as she went into Fixer mode. "I know I have a favor or two left in the County Clerk's office, as long as we can round up all the copies before the filing we can get ahead of this—we'll say the papers were from before when Mellie gave her big speech about your fidelity on National television."

"Olivia," he said so softly she stopped and turned to him with a slight gasp. "You don't have to do anything. I don't need or want you to fix this. Mellie's on board with this. She's going to move back to the Ranch for a while then she'll sell it and keep the profits. I will support any bid she makes for office, and I'll publicly support her relationship with Andrew after a suitable mourning period. I've already called Karen and Mellie's attorney has drawn up a custody arrangement with Teddy that we can both live with. We've worked it all out. I just called you here to tell you so you wouldn't find out on the morning news. I wanted you to have a moment to ask me questions if you needed to. I wanted you to have your say."

"Well then I say you can't get divorced."

"Why not? Because it'll ruin my image? Because for the rest of my life I'll be the first President to get divorced while still in office?"

"They'll never talk about anything good you did," she said, shaking her head. "You'll be ruined."

He shrugged his shoulders casually as if to say what they both knew. He already was.

"Why did you really bring me here?" she asked as she watched his face.

"I came to say goodbye. For real this time."

She scoffed. "How many 'goodbyes' does that make?"

He laughed softly. "I don't know. There's more," he said as he folded his arms.

"What?" she asked warily.

"I'm selling the house."

She stared at him for several moments, her expression unreadable. She held her breath until she had to take in air with a loud gasp. He remained silent, it was clear to him that she was just coming to accept what had been just as hard for him to come to terms with. It was over. She swallowed and then opened her mouth to speak, closing it and opening it again several times as she searched for something to say. All she could come up with was, "Why?"

"You're in love with another man. You're in love with Jake Ballard." She rolled her eyes as tears fell down her cheeks. She turned away from him but Fitz stood from where he had been leaning on the desk and went to her. She whirled on him when he got close.

"You're punishing me," she snarled.

"No, Olivia," he said as he took a step back. "I'm trying to stop punishing you. I'm trying to stop punishing myself. I have had no right to put your life on hold like this. I've had no right to try to stop you from finding love in your life. Love with someone who was unattached to a family, someone younger, and someone who wasn't bound to so many other things."

She looked down at the same place in the carpet that he had viewed moments earlier. "I-"

"You don't have to deny it, Olivia. I know what loving me has cost you."

She looked up into his eyes searching then and he knew she was wondering if he really did know her cost.

"You left me for him. You love him, you live with him, you make love with him, and he's the one you want." He said the words as much for her own ears as for his. "You know what that time you spent with him on that island taught me? I'm simply not the right man for you. I didn't necessarily want to know about it, but I don't need a building to fall on me. That's not an accusation," he added quickly. "That's a simple fact. You followed your heart and it led you away from me."

Again he let the words hang in the air before going on. "So the announcement will be made tomorrow." He looked at his watch. It was almost midnight. "I've hired a new Press Secretary. Apologize to Gab, er, Abby, for me. She did a wonderful job but I need to make a clean break of things."

"So you mean everyone with a close association to me has to leave the White House, too?" Her voice was even, calm, and detached.

"Yes," he answered plainly. "This isn't easy for me, Olivia. I think we both need to put a period on this and move on."

"And Cyrus?"

"You know him; he's the exception to every rule. But this White House no longer has Olivia Pope on retainer. There's no contract, and we won't call you. I know you think you're the best Fixer in the world, and so do I, but there are other competent people who can get me through the rest of this term. I won't bother you again."

"You've been planning this for a long time," Olivia said. "How long? When did you know you were going to do this?"

He wanted to answer her truthfully but what good could it do now to tell her that seeing her about to make love with Jake Ballard even after she suspected he might have been the one to kill his son knocked him for a loop he could not withstand. She must have read it in his expression because she nodded knowingly and grabbed her purse.

"Olivia, please wait, don't go away like this."

"How do you expect me to react—you aren't giving me a choice in any of this!"

"Let's not pretend you'd decide anything different."

"I would!"

"You would?" he said doubtfully. "You'd have me stay married to a woman I don't love, keep a house I can't live in with you, and protect a legacy for three more years while you screw around with Jake?" He closed his eyes to calm himself because he didn't want their last conversation to end like this. "Olivia, I want you to be happy. I'm not happy that it's with Jake, but that's not up to me. That's up to you. And it seems to me that you made that decision a long time ago, too. I'm just coming around now to accepting it. I want you to have a beautiful life. I want you to have love." He paused before going on, his emotions overwhelming him. "I want you to have children. You should have everything you want and you should do it freely and privately. Consider it the last gift you can give me," he said, his voice booming now as he walked away from her, signaling that the conversation was over.

An agent appeared at the door and Olivia was silenced by his presence.

"Olivia, would you do me a favor?" She looked at him incredulously. He waited until her face softened and then made his request. "Don't miss me."

A/N: Well! I don't know where that came from. I just felt the need to write it because I'm really mourning Olitz and trying to get through the stages of grief about how they are being handled on the show. I needed to work through my emotions and I've wanted to share a fanfic with you guys as I've been reading many wonderful stories for more than a year. I will understand if this angst is too much for some readers, and I can't promise you how it will all end, but I'm a full circle writer, and I am an Olitz Fan until the end. Plus I can promise with this story you won't have to ever worry about reading an Olake love scene. Bonus! If you decide to stick with me and follow, I look forward to your feedback.