ONCE MORE WITH FEELING...
Chapter 2
The further into the West Wing she walked, the heavier the sense of dread became within and around her. Something was not right. The hallways, while normally quiet this time of night, seemed cold and mocking; a deafening silence choked the air. She walked past a few members of the staff and secret service agents and noted that they looked decidedly unconformable and displaced. In fact, she was acutely aware that no one seemed to be where he or she was supposed to be. Rather, they all seemed as though they were nervously awaiting something explosive. Olivia instinctively slowed her pace. Something was not right.
Just as she rounded the final hallway leading to the Oval Office, she heard sounds of objects being smashed and violently crashing to the ground. It was his voice, however, that shocked her immobile and rooted her 30feet in from of the door.
"I mean it, get the fck out of here Cy!"
She watched as the door opened and Cyrus emerged into the hall. Before he fully closed the door, she heard "You come back in here, and I—"
"Cyrus?" She whispered, making her presence known.
"I can't help him. I just thou—, I can't help him." He took a moment to study Olivia.
"Cyrus I don't know what you think I ca-" He silenced her with an old familiar look. A look that said, it's me you're talking to, so cut the crap.
"You know what this is about. You never could hold your alcohol well and from the looks of it, you've been crying. Olivia, he needs you. I can't help him."
She took a few deep breaths and walked past Cyrus.
"Cyrus, I swear to God, you son of a bit—"
Flinching as he hurled his words at her, she silently closed the door behind her and gingerly leaned against the frame. He was standing across the room by this desk with his back to the door. She felt the air around them shift from anger and frustration to despair and sadness and knew that that was the moment he realized she was not Cyrus. She watched him square his shoulders in an attempt to guard himself against her. That hurt. Suddenly she couldn't breathe; it felt like all the oxygen was being sucked out of the room. She wasn't ready to face him. She thought about retreating to the other side of the door but his voice once again held her captive.
"You here to congratulate me?" He asked slowly with his back still to her.
She ignored his question and took in her surroundings instead. Broken glass was littered around the room. All of the objects that normally rested on top of his desk were now scattered across the floor. Everything in the room was literally and figuratively on its axis. Up was down; down was up. In the midst of all the chaos sat a perfectly intact, nearly empty bottle of Scotch.
"Love what you've done with the place." She stated disapprovingly.
He spun around in anger and glared at her. She held her breath as she defiantly met his eyes. He held her eyes for just a moment and then took a mental trip up and down her body before returning to her eyes. She willed herself to breathe and tried not to notice that his eyes went from angry to lustful to sadness to desire and back. He finally broke eye contact and took a deep breath.
"Why are you here?" Before she could answer he pressed on, "Just leave. Please. I didn't ask for you and I don't want you here." He spoke matter-of-factly and turned away from her once again and rounded his desk.
"I've honored your wishes." He scoffed as he continued to ramble seemingly to himself. "I've kept my end of the bargain and now look, the whole world is excited about the impending Presidential Birth. I coul—, couldn't be more thrilled." His choked whisper of the latter statement gave away his heart. "Just go."
She was sure her heart had no more pieces left to break. But just as Olivia's heart broke for them three months ago when she left, standing here in the Oval Office listening to him speak, it broke anew. She tried to force herself to move, just walk out of the door back to her apartment where she could once again break down in the company of a trusted friend. But hopelessness radiated off of him in waves and it was beautifully tragic – so much so that it held kept her a prisoner in the room.
"I'm so sorry. I am so sorry." She found herself softly whispering the very words she had longed to say to him the day she turned over her hard pass and left the White House grounds for good.
He didn't respond; just stared at her with sad, tired and hurt eyes. It was almost as if she hadn't spoken the words at all. Resigned, she started to turn toward the door.
"Did you ever love me? Or was I just another problem that needed fixing? I was going to walk away from it all for you; for us. You were enough for me. Was I not enough for you? Without the titles or prestige, was I not enough?"
She spun around and stared at him incredulously. She searched his eyes and was horrified to find that his words had not been spoken in anger but in defeat and resignation. Tears burned her eyes as realization sunk in. He was broken. How could he not know? How could he not know?
Mistaking her silence as a refusal to respond, he shook his head and whispered sadly, "Right, I forgot. The Olivia Pope doesn't answer to anyone. The embodiment of above the fray; too much self-control to sink to a mere mortal's level and engage him in something real. Right, forget I asked." He turned to face the window, essentially dismissing her. "I've asked you twice now, please leave M-, Ms. Pope"
Olivia had been frozen, choking on all the words caught in her throat and kept at bay by her mind. But it was the moment "Ms. Pope" reached her ears that her heart leapt out of her chest and laid itself bare at his feet.
"I will love you forever, don't you get that. Until the day I, I take my last breath, I will be in love you. I loved you before you were president and I'll love you long after you've left the office." She paused momentarily as he once again turned to face her and meet her eyes.
"I didn't walk away lightly Fitz. I didn't. I knew exactly what I was giving up. I loved us. You were not mine to take. But I loved, I love you nonetheless. My heart will always be yours and yours alone. Fitz, I will long for you. Forever."
Although tears were now freely running down their cheeks, she squared her shoulders, lifted her chin and looked him deeply in the eyes.
"You have a job to do. Be great, Fitzgerald Grant." She paused and smiled warmly at him. "Don't let our sacrifice be in vain. Don't let this pain that we both feel be in vain. Be great. Be the leader the American people need you to be. Be the father your children need you to be. Be the man I love. Be Great."
She watched as life sprang back into his eyes. He would be ok. She suspected that once it was all said and done, she would be ok too.
"Fitz?"
"Yeah?"
"Clean up this mess." She smiled and her heart jumped as his smile appeared too.
"Forever huh?"
"Forever."
She reentered the hall and closed the door.
"Make sure he doesn't cut himself on the glass." She instructed Cyrus who looked at her with a great deal of curiosity.
"Thank you Olivia."
"Goodbye Cyrus."
