"Remember when we argued on the concept of regret?

You were an expert even then, but not me, not yet."


They were out for drinks. They'd had a few—or, at least, Peter had. Olivia'd had two whiskey doubles but wasn't even tipsy; he'd had five beers and was starting to look a little red-eyed.

"Do you…" he starts, but then stops himself. "Sorry, never mind."

"What, Peter?"

"Do you ever regret what happened with John Scott?" he asks. "I mean, that kind of…ended badly. Right?"

"No," Olivia says. "It didn't end badly."

"Because he was in your head?"

She laughs as the sheer weirdness of it being said aloud. "Yeah, I guess."

"Well, what happened?"

"I do love you, Liv. Always."

"We got to say goodbye," she tells him, "on our own terms."

Peter studies her for a moment and then nods, looking down at the beer bottle in his hand.

"What made you ask?"

Peter looks up, startled. "I, uh, I don't know. Just curious, I guess."

Olivia purses her lips. "Okay. I don't believe you, but okay."

"You don't believe me?" he asks.

She shakes her head. "I think you have something else on your mind."

He pauses, then shrugs. "Maybe," he admits.

There's a significant length of silence.

"You never answered my first question," Peter realizes.

"Hmm?" she asks.

"My first question," he repeats, "Do you regret what happened with John Scott?"

Olivia takes a sip of her whiskey. "I did, you know, for a while."

"I sense a 'but'," Peter says.

The corner of her mouth twitches up, but she doesn't smile. "But…" she says, "I don't anymore, no. Looking back, at the entirety of it all, I don't think I do."

"Why not?"

"John and I were happy," she shrugs. "Before it all blew up in our faces, we were completely happy. We were in love," she adds.

She clears her throat. "And, you know, in the end, he managed to help enough to clear his name. At least to me," she nods to herself. "So my answer is no, I don't regret what happened with John."

"I regret a lot of things," Peter confesses.

"Like what?"

"Leaving my mother," he says. "Dropping out of school. Letting you bully me into breaking Walter out of St. Claire's, sometimes. Getting mixed up with Big Eddy. And a lifetime of other things."

"Do you regret sticking around?" she asks. "You were going to leave Boston. Do you…still want to?"

He takes a deep breath. "No." He shakes his head. "No, I don't. Because if I had left, I wouldn't be here, with you, having this fantastic conversation," he laughs.

She laughs, too.

"There's a lot to regret in my life," he says, "but I'm hoping that changes. I feel like that's changing." He looks at her. "And I feel like that is, in no small part, because of you."

He tilts his bottle to her, and she blushes.

"Good answer," she says, smiling.


'Regret' – Fiona Apple


A/N: I haven't written one of these in a long time, and it's weird. I don't know if this was any good, so you should write a review and tell me.