The details.
The details in life were easy to overlook and take for granted. As a child, Olivia always attempted to discredit Santa Claus. Christmas was wonderful and delightful. Truthfully, it had and always would be her favorite holiday. She had always enjoyed attempting to catch Santa in the act. Every year, she would mask grand plans to catch him. Every year, she would fail but there would always be another clue to spurn her quest on for another year. She never wavered from it. Despite her age, Olivia realized that it was small things in life, the details, which made it meaningful. When she was alone for Christmas, she could still dig out all the "mystery clues" and remember joyful moments with her family. While her family was dispersed throughout the country, the "clues" made her feel closer to her family. Sometimes, she needed a break from her cold and harsh world to remember there were warmer things in life. It was the details that made life heartwarming and important.
Olivia rarely forgot about significant details. She fixed other people's problems but rarely found that she could solve her own. Then again, she rarely placed herself in situations that would result in a problem. At least, she had originally adopted this philosophy. Despite her controlling personality, she found that her personal life was beyond control. She disregarded the details from her rational. She fell in love with a married man and ignored his political status. While she knew that his marriage was a farce, Olivia overlooked how dangerous their liaison was. Perhaps, it wasn't that she disregarded the fact but that she simply couldn't care. Her pull to him was too strong. The details of the situation had changed. The details were no longer that he was married or running for president. Those were details of her job and details she easily handled. They were almost so engrained that she forgot them. The greater details were that she was in love, feelings that she had never truly experienced until she met him. At least, if she had, they were a whisper compared to the sound her heart made when he entered a room.
Therefore, it was easy to manipulate the details. It was harder to resist falling into the fantasy they created. While Olivia was willful and unwavering, she never dreamed of becoming a 'storybook princess' and somehow he made her feel just thus. She hadn't ever expected much from their affair. She knew what it was and expected nothing more than a few hotel trysts. Olivia never dared to dream. Fitz was her opposite and she supposed that's why he was the politician. He had challenged her to dream. He had pushed and shoved until she dare think of any thing other than 'what if.' She had resisted because 'what if' was unrealistic and Olivia was a rational person. Her affair with Fitz may have been her only true irrational act ever committed. Still, he managed to push her boundaries and she respected him for it. It was something that no other man had the courage to do. He always defied, always tried, and never stopped until she laughed or shoved him away. His provocation made her feel alive.
Eventually, she relented.
The fantasy became pronounced. The fantasy became a want, need, and desperation for something more. She was relieved with the notion that one day they would be together without restrictions or concealments. As much as she loved him, Olivia hated him for planting that within her. She had been perfectly fine with understanding the reality of their situation. They were lovers, carrying on an affair, which would eventually come to an end. He clouded her judgment and fed her a life that they could never fulfill. A life that she craved more than each breath she took. She had never felt so strongly, but weak as well. She was too weak to refuse him anything. She was susceptible to his charm and wit. Thankfully, Olivia knew that she wielded similar power over him. Presumably the happiest evening of his life, reality set in for each quickly. He couldn't be president and keep a mistress. Despite unspoken words, broken hearts, and yearnings, they were all for another lifetime.
Today, Olivia was far too busy to worry about President Grant. Plus, he had let her go. She attempted to reason it was for the best. It was what she wanted. There was a part of her that agreed with this sentiment. It was politically best. Nothing good would ever come from their affair. Eventually, they wouldn't be able to hide the lies and both their careers would be irrevocably ruined. Neither could risk that. Her credibility was all that she had. The last thing she needed was to be portrayed as the president's mistress.
Running a hand through her hair, she took a deep breath and sighed. The bitter November breeze was welcoming. Her eyes were transfixed on a large autumn tree. Its leaves were deep fiery shades of red, gold, and bronze; the mourning limbs slumped with each passing whip of wind. As the leaves blew by her feet, she twisted her heels in a few, spiking them with her thick pump and enjoying the distinct crunch beneath her leather boot. It was going to be a long day and the sun had barely crept into the sky. This had become her morning ritual. When her phone wasn't alerting her of a new case. When she had managed to sleep longer than three hours, because she wasn't expectantly staring at the phone and awaiting his call, she sat here. To the passerby's she was no one. She was just a quiet woman who usually dropped a twenty and sandwich to the homeless person sitting in front of a monument. She didn't retain a grand title and no one knew her heart yearned for the most powerful man in the western hemisphere.
Twiddling with the zipper of her coat, she closed her eyes and relaxed. Her hand absently rested against her abdomen. It found its way there more frequently. She tugged at her coat and pulled it tighter around her. Olivia found it much colder today. The distinct buzz of her phone interrupted the serenity. She shook her head, just another day at the office. Digging into her pocket, she found it quickly and tugged it out. It was Harrison and he rattled the details quickly to her. She wasn't surprised to hear another senator was in trouble. She found that senators couldn't keep their pants down, mouths shut, or hands off. She wasn't sure what it was with men of power and affairs. The thought shut down quickly, Olivia realized how hypocritical her thoughts were. If everyone knew, she would be the most famous woman who slept with a politician. She wondered who would have the wonderful job of "fixing" her predicament. Steering away, she reached her feet and clasped her phone. She marched down the Mall. The everyday homeless man sat at the feet of the Vietnam memorial. It was too early for a breakfast sandwich. Instead, she took the fifty from her pocket and handed it to him. He nodded in 'thanks' and she kept walking. She had learned not to expect more or an explanation. She knew that he would probably spend it on an extraordinary amount of alcohol. She didn't care. You did what you needed to get through the day. The choices weren't always healthy. They just had to get you through the day.
Picking up her pace, she hurried across the street. Her heavy boots grated across the concrete. Suddenly, the edge snagged atop a drainpipe and she jerked to a stop. She swore loudly and attempted to dislodge her foot. Her ankle pained as she bent down and pulled it out. She grumbled loudly, what idiot sanctioned to place this right here? It was clearly a hazard. She tugged at her boot and considered taking it off. As it wouldn't slip out, Olivia began to unzip her shoe. She was on a time constraint. Every second she wasted freeing herself from the grate, she had to worry about someone hearing of the senator's indiscretions. Sighing heavily, she grew more frustrated as she finally withdrew her shoe.
Her eyes flickered upward briefly to check for cars. The loud screeching sound made her heart squeeze painfully and bile rise. It was enviable. She was frozen in panic and fear. Her feet rooted to the ground. She ridiculously clutched the boot as if it would offer her protection. She held it high in mock triumph. What had she accomplished? The ordeal happened so quickly; Olivia hardly had time to register the panic or overwhelming sense of dread. The flying impact as the car rammed into her abdomen and sent her soaring across the road was faster than an inhalation of breath. As her lungs filled with air, she realized her wish from childhood had been fulfilled she was flying without wings. She felt no pain as her body slumped to the ground. The impact bruised and battered her limbs. The severe marks and tracks of the car embedded in her beautiful skin immediately. She released a raspy breath, chokingly coughed, and wheezed an almost silent plea, "Fitz."
The skidding sound of the tires zoomed by. Try as she might, her limbs wouldn't move. She was frozen and the bitter November air consumed her body. It blanketed her and metaphorically shoved her deeper into the ground, it was building her grave. It was subjecting her to time without question. Olivia quietly coughed. Blood trickled at the corner of her mouth and her forehead. She laid angelically still, her arms strewn apart, and body quivering from the cold.
There was so much left unsaid. There was so much that she hadn't told him which he deserved to know. He had released her from their relationship, but his hold was never stronger. They may be apart, but her heart still clung to him. As she lay on the ground, she longed to hear this voice once more. She wished to hear him say, 'I love you' just one last time. Most of all, she wished that she never let him go. It had been the greatest mistake of her lifetime. She felt no pain except for this, the pain of never knowing him again. He would never know. He deserved to know. She had been too selfish. Olivia had wanted him to be a "great president," but she never asked him, what did he want? Selfishly, she manipulated him into doing what was best for everyone. He had been manipulated his entire life. While he was a great man, husband, father, lover, politician, he could never be great in his own way. He had never been great of his own creation. Now, she desperately wished that she had allowed him to be. There truly was not a greater agony than love except having love lost. The tears pricked at her eyes and she released another shaky breath. She would die wanting.
Suddenly, a man, or messiah, stood over her and tremblingly shuffled through her pockets. His matted hair blocked the sun and she could hardly make out his face. Olivia could smell the heavy grime and layers, perhaps years, of dirt and trash on his clothing. Her nose didn't have the ability to wrinkle. The familiarity of his face registered immediately. It was the man that she donated to her every day. Somehow, she wasn't happy to see a familiar face. Timidly, he ruffled through her clothing but she wasn't afraid. She couldn't be. What more could fate subject her to? The humiliation of dying and being mugged at the same time was more hysterical than demeaning. It would be the 'Great Olivia Pope' to die in such a plebian way by Washington standards. Nonetheless, he must have heard her thoughts. Surprisingly, he reached and caressed her fingers pleasantly, "Stay with me, love."
Blinking stupidly, Olivia lay stunned and watched him intently. His fingers continued to carefully move through her clothes. She didn't have much choice but to allow him to inspect her clothes. When he blatantly skipped her wallet, she released a quiet sight of relief. She felt his hand move closer to her breast and she closed her eyes. Maybe, she could will herself into a coma or sleep. Then, he stopped and retrieved the weight beneath her ribs. The small metal object seemed almost entirely unharmed. There was a long crack on the front of the screen but it was still functioning. She watched him expectantly. He dialed the emergency number without hesitancy. Her jaw nearly fell open in shock. He was calling for help. He was helping her. Her heart beat faster. She swallowed thickly and Olivia stared in fascination. Who was he? She hadn't shown him much kindness besides slipping him some money every day. She could have offered him a place warm. Yet, she still held a resound fear that something disastrous may happen. There was still an air of caution. Yet, he never hesitated with her. She stared gratefully and heavy tears welled in her eyes.
He rattled off her injuries with a precision she rarely saw. His fingers seemed to know what to assess. He saw injuries, scrapes, and bruises that hadn't seemed to blossom yet. Suddenly, she felt his fingers unbutton her coat and lift her blooming shirt. The shirt was loose and free, it held very little definition and didn't cinch in anywhere. It resembled many of her shirts that she took to wearing. As he timidly pushed her shirt up, he was greeted with the tightly stretched band of her pants. He had expected this. He pushed her pants down her waist and heard her painful groan. He murmured an apology and frowned when he saw another tighter band. His eyes narrowed and mouthed formed an 'o' shape. Quickly, he dug into his pocket and retrieved a pocketknife. Timidly, his cool hand cut along the seam and watched as the material snapped away. The tightness of the material revealed a perfectly rounded stomach.
"And approximately six months pregnant," He finished clapping the phone shut.
"The baby," Olivia acknowledged her secret aloud for the first time.
The man dutifully nodded and squeezed her hand. He closed her coat and took off his own to cover her extended stomach. She needed nothing but warmth right now. "The baby," Olivia cried solemnly. The man shook his head and gingerly shook his head. He had no words. Her stomach was badly bruised and he had noticed the pool of blood that she lay in. He couldn't determine where it came from, but he presumed it wasn't from a surface wound. In an attempt to calm her fears, he stroked her hair and murmured Shakespeare's Sonnet 18. Squeezing his fingers, she released shuddering breaths and tears stained her cheeks. Fitz would never know. As she lay dying, the man's voice took on a richer, raspier tone and it became her beloved's, she knew one day had come.
Hello everyone,
I am endlessly hoping this receives the similar reception Hummingbird and La Vie en Rose has. All the readers and reviewers have been so undeniably wonderful. Thank you all so very much. Most of all, thank you all for your warm 'get well' wishes. You're all too sweet.
Recently, I contracted a bout of insomnia and this idea couldn't just leave my mind. So, I did some research and decided to put the - 'could Olivia hide a pregnancy from Fitz' idea to the test. The clothing band across Olivia's midsection is called, "Mama Spanx." Apparently (and if you review pictures), it does hide a pregnancy stomach very well. Also, I'm taking into account that Olivia is very petite and probably would be one of those women who hardly show. I.E. Julia Roberts who carried twins and hardly showed. I mean, how does one pull that off?!
Anyway, I hope that everyone enjoys it. This is going to be something totally separate from Hummingbird and La Vie en Rose. All my best! Love you, S