My heart broke when it was revealed that Oliver and Zoe had separated. I needed to find an answer to their separation and this fic was a result of that. Enjoy.

Please leave a review... they fuel my soul :)

Zoe Shaw had been the wife of a police officer for 15 years. When she'd married her husband Oliver, she'd figured that the nervous thump of her heart as he headed to work would disappear. Instead it had magnified, now a rattle against her chest. Often she'd jump out of her skin at the shrill sound of the phone ringing. She lived in fear of answering the door and finding police officers on the other side. It was the life she'd chosen, willingly.

The effects of being an officer's wife had pressed on her more with each passing day, each passing month and each passing year. The ring of the phone, the chime of the doorbell, the reports on the news were becoming increasingly more difficult to listen to. Too scared to admit her fears to her husband, she let it fester inside of her to the point where she could barely tear herself away from her cell phone. She'd feverishly scan it for a missed text message or a voice mail, anything, something to let her know that he was alright. Most days were easy; she'd receive a text about a missing squad car or a rookie posing as a male prostitute. It was easier to fall asleep on those days. Those days she knew he was okay.

Then there'd be the days and nights when the Toronto streets were busy and he'd forget to call. Those were the nights when she felt the rattle; when her hands would shake so hard it was difficult to take a sip of coffee without spilling. Sometimes, when the girls had long fallen asleep, she'd get into her car and drive by 15 Division. Rarely was he ever there; usually he was out on patrol or traffic detail. She'd have to beg the front desk officer not to tell Oliver that she'd come by. She'd just wanted to reassure herself that he was okay, that he was safe, that he was alive.

When he'd return home, it was always with a smile and he'd give her a kiss on the forehead and tell her some story about winning money off of Jerry or how he'd caught the rookie McNally kissing Sam in the interrogation room. He rarely mentioned the cases they worked on and she liked it that way. The mystery saved her from knowing how close to death he must come each and every day.

Most days the television sat in the living room, a distant hum as she'd dust the furniture, pay the bills or help Izzy with her math homework. But on a warm August night, the 24 hour news station came into sharp focus.

"An off-duty officer suspected to be from 15 Division was fatally shot tonight in Riverdale…" The newscaster droned on, explaining that police had released few details. In an instant Zoe Shaw's world flipped on its head.

She lunged for her phone and feverishly texted her husband. "Are you ok?"

The seconds felt like minutes. Minutes like hours. "Ollie?" She tried again, her fingers numb as she gripped the phone.

Third time's a charm, he'd once said to her. This time she decided to dial out, hoping that he'd hear the ring and pick up.

Bring. Bring. Brrrring. "The cellular caller you are trying to reach is away from their phone…"

Her head pounded, her heart felt as though it would leap into her chest. Where was he? Her eyes flicked toward the television where a news reporter stood outside of police headquarters. "Police are revealing little information about the officer killed tonight. We're being told that his family is being notified at this moment and to expect a press update shortly…"

His family.

Zoe's breathing became short, her eyes unfocused. The room seemed to tilt and spin like a roller coaster, her mind racing.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, Mrs. Shaw…." She figured that was how they'd start the conversation. They usually sent two officers, didn't they? Would they tell her to sit down first? She was in her pajamas... She should change… The girls…

The doorbell rang, shattering through the madness. This was it. This is how it begins. Her right hand still clutched at her cell phone, her left fingered the flannel cloth of her shirt. Slowly she made her way to the door. Her eyes stinging, afraid of what lay beyond the door.

With a shaky exhale of breath she opened the door with a swift jerk.

"Guh!" She cried out as a heavy weight fell against her.

"Forgot my key!" Her husband righted himself and tugged at his jacket zipper. "Sorry! Did I wake you?"

Zoe's eyes were wide; she shook her head. A feeling of relief shuddered through her body, she threw her arms around his neck. "I tried to call you!"

"Did you?" He laughed and pulled out his phone. "It's off! Oops!" He laughed and showed her the screen of the blackened phone. "Sorry hun. Was it important?" He leaned down and kissed her, the taste of liquor evident on his lips.

"You've been drinking?"

"Maybe a little!" He laughed, absently removing his shoes and tossing them to the side of the door. "It was two for one pints at the Penny. Sammy was buying…"

"But—" she stammered for something to say. Anything. I thought you were dead.

"I'm beat. Can we talk tomorrow?"

No! No! NO! The voice in her head screamed. "Okay, I guess," she said quietly, her eyes flicking toward the television screen. "We are told at this moment that the off duty officer in question was from 27 Division. Police chief Bill Blair will be issuing a statement momentarily."

Oliver pressed his lips to her forehead. "Love ya." Dazed, Zoe watched as he turned and headed up the stairs toward their bedroom.

But—

"Stop!" She cried out at last. Oliver stopped at the top step and turn toward his wife. "Out!" Her eyes stung with tears, her words louder than she'd intended. It was too much. It was all too much. "OUT! Call Sam, call Jerry. I don't care who. I can't do this anymore! I can't—"

His head tilted, mouth agape. Her words sobering him. "What are you talking about?"

"All of this. 15. Late nights. Cell phones turned off. You being shot. The worry. The news… Everything! I can't do it anymore. I can't." The tears came freely at last, the cell phone she'd been clutching finally crashing to the floor.

Oliver gently pulled her hands from her face; the blurred image of her husband stood before her. "Shh…" He said softly, tucking her hair behind her ears.

Zoe shook her head, defiant in her weakened state. "I can't… I can't…"

Wordlessly, Oliver pulled her toward him. The faint hum of the television lulled him into disbelief as his wife sobbed in to his shoulder. This couldn't be… isn't… can't be… the end? Could it?

Everything had come to this? 15 years or 15 Division?