A/N: I just wanted to thank all of you that took the time over the last nine months (:-0 I know…I couldn't believe it either) to write with your well wishes. My family and I are safe, healthy, and employed. 2020 has been a struggle (as I am sure is true for all of you) but I'm trying to stay positive and find something to be grateful for each day. Today, I am grateful for you, my readers. You are an incredibly loyal group and I am so appreciative for the support and encouragement. I hope you enjoy this next chapter.
"I don't want your forgiveness," Olivia snarled. "I want a divorce."
The color drained out of Jake's face as he processed her words. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice breaking with emotion.
She sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I'm sorry," she said, standing up and beginning to pace in circles. "It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I didn't want to blindside you with this, especially not tonight."
Jake stood up and stepped into her path, interrupting her pattern. "Don't you think you're skipping a few steps? You made a mistake -
Olivia pivoted and moved away from him. "I made a decision, not a mistake."
"So, you decided to become a whore?" he asked angrily.
Olivia whipped around to face him. "Does standing there calling me names make you feel better? Does it make it easier to face the truth?"
"Face the truth? I am facing the truth. My wife is a lying whore who has been fucking a man who will stick his dick in anything. Who knows what diseases you've brought home?" he shouted.
"I may have broken my vows, but I am most decidedly not a whore. Which is how I can assure you I never put you at risk and why, despite the unfortunate timing, I'm insisting upon a divorce now."
Jake's face scrunched into a frown as he tried to decipher Olivia's words. She had admitted her affair with Fitz started in New York. Had he misinterpreted her words? "Your vows were until death do us part."
Olivia studied him carefully through narrowed eyes. "Is that a threat?"
"I'm not going to kill you, Liv," he dismissed. "I'm also not going to give up on our marriage without a fight."
Olivia sank into the couch, leaning forward and pouring herself a glass of wine. "Do you even know what you're fighting for?" she asked before taking a big gulp.
Jake lowered himself into the chair across from her. "I'm fighting for you, for us."
Olivia replied with sarcastic laughter. "You don't know me. Now I realize that's as much my fault as it is yours, but you don't."
"What are you talking about? You're my wife. We've been together since you were nineteen."
"Eighteen."
"What?"
"I was eighteen. We met in December. My birthday is in January."
"I know when your birthday is. Just like I know who you are. I've watched you grow up from the teenager you were when we met to the beautiful woman that's standing in front of me."
"Just because you can see me doesn't mean you know me."
"You always were an arrogant bitch."
Olivia scoffed. "I'm an arrogant bitch because you called me beautiful and I didn't avert my eyes and try to make myself small. I've spent the last decade and a half making myself small so you could be big. That ends tonight."
"I never asked you to make yourself small."
"No, you just asked me to attend the University of Miami instead of Harvard, to join your company instead of a law firm, to support your dreams instead of chasing my own, to ignore it when your business partners' eyes lingered or their hands roamed, and to wait until you were ready to start a family. Our entire live together has been on your terms. You want to fight because you want to win, not because you want me."
"First I don't know you and now I don't want you. Can't you see he's gaslighting you? I'll admit I could be a better husband. I plan to be a better husband, but our marriage isn't irretrievably broken. We need counseling, not a divorce."
"What's my favorite flower?"
"What?" he asked, confused by the seemingly random question.
"What's my favorite flower?" she repeated.
"Red roses," he answered confidently. "Don't you remember I gave them to you the night we met."
"I remember."
"You were the waitress for the Zyscovich Architects recruitment dinner. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen, then and now. I did everything I could to get your attention, but you were so coolly professional, pretending to ignore every attempt. That didn't stop me though. I bribed a busboy to tell me what time you got off. I waited outside the back door of that restaurant holding a bouquet of roses for over two hours in the freezing cold. You were worth it though. When you finally came out, I gave you the flowers and convinced you to have breakfast with me at a nearby diner. I still don't know why you said yes. Maybe it was the alcohol your co-workers borrowed from the bar for your celebration or maybe you were hungry and didn't want to eat alone. I'll probably never know, but I became the luckiest man alive that night and I've been giving you red roses ever since."
Olivia smiled sadly as she recalled the night they met. He was right, she'd come out of the restaurant tipsy, surprised to find him standing there waiting for her. She wasn't immediately attracted to him, but there was something so earnest and hopeful about him that she'd agreed to let him walk her to a nearby diner. She'd been expecting a spoiled frat boy with his great-grandfather's name and his father's millions. Instead he was an awkward, humble, and funny guy from a middle-class family in the Midwest. They'd laughed and talked until the sun came up and then he'd insisted on following her back to her dorm to make sure she got home safely. After warning him they wouldn't be having sex, she'd invited him up to her dorm room and he spent the entire day with her, helping her do laundry and pack for her trip. Their date ended at the airport when he kissed her tenderly and promised to meet her in that very spot when she returned two weeks later.
"That story summarizes our relationship perfectly. You brought me roses because that's what you wanted me to have. I accepted them and, because I did, you assumed they were what I wanted and kept giving them to me. Red roses aren't my favorite flower."
Olivia watched as Jake's face crumpled with emotion. "They're not?" he asked softly.
Olivia shook her head. "No, pink peonies are."
"And he knows this?" Jake asked, growing angry.
"This isn't about him," Olivia responded evenly. "These past few months I've been on a journey of self-discovery.
"And you found yourself on his dick?"
Olivia glared at him. "This conversation ends with me walking out that door," she said, nodding in the direction of the entrance. "Do you want me to go upstairs and start packing now, or do you want to try to have a civil conversation?"
"Don't leave," he pleaded. "You can't give up on us."
"Jake," Olivia sighed. "I don't want to be this person, the person I am with you, anymore."
"Then don't. I never asked, never expected, you to change yourself for me."
She lifted an eyebrow. "You didn't?"
"No, and I'm sorry if you feel like I did."
Olivia closed her eyes and summoned her resolve. She wasn't making this up and Fitz wasn't the one manipulating her. Jake may be saying all the right things now, but she couldn't forget he was calling her a whore ten minutes ago.
"Is it the money?"
"What?" she asked, her eyes flashing open. "No. You know I don't care about that."
In a hesitant, uncertain voice, he asked, "Are you unsatisfied?"
Olivia chuckled softly. "There's more to a marriage than sex and money."
Jake exhaled deeply, visibly relieved. "I know that, but usually if there's intimacy and financial stability in a relationship, a couple can overcome other threats. You slept with Grant and the thought of him touching you makes me want to hurt him, but it doesn't make me want to give up on you. You must quit your job. I won't tolerate his continued presence in our lives, but I'm willing to try to forgive you."
Olivia took another sip from her wine glass, trying to calm her nerves. "You're not listening," she said quietly. "The only thing I want from you, the only thing I deserve from you, is a divorce."
Tears slowly rolled down Jake's cheeks. "How did we get here?"
"We allowed our relationship to become unbalanced. We put all our effort and energy into your success, pushing everything else to the side for later. Only, when later came we'd lost our way. We forgot to nurture each other. We stopped asking questions and listening to the answers. Our relationship became about surviving and we went about the process of rebuilding our life, but we did so on autopilot. Wake up, go to work, come home, go for a run, cook dinner, fuck my husband, go to sleep, and repeat. Where's the passion in that? When is the last time we talked about our hopes and dreams, our fears and anxieties? What happened to the man that used to lie in bed bedside me telling me vivid stories about our future together?"
"He grew up and so did you. Dreams don't provide for your family. They don't pay the mortgage. Eventually you have to play the hand you've been dealt. Not all of us are born with a trust fund worth millions of dollars. You have to make sacrifices. Let go of the person you thought you would be and learn to live with the person you are. You asked what happened to me, I should be asking what happened to you. You used to like that I was a 'real' person and not one of those privileged assholes I went to graduate school with. Well, look around sweetheart. This is real. He's the one selling you a fairytale. We used to be a team. It was you and me against the world, but you allowed someone to come between us. I knew we were in trouble the minute you agreed to go with him, but I had no idea it would lead to this. I thought you were acting out, trying to get my attention. I never suspected you would - if I had known - I never would have..." Jake collapsed back in his chair, closing his eyes and exhaling in frustration.
The sound of glass scraping against the wood table caused him to open his eyes and see that Olivia had pushed her wine glass closer to him. "Thank you," he said, taking a large swallow. After a moment, he looked at her, his sad eyes once again brimmed with tears, and asked, "Do you love me?"
"Of course, I do," she answered, her voice thick with emotion. "We've shared a life together. You were the first man to love me, really love me and, while it wasn't instant, I fell in love with you too. You were there for me when I needed someone. You rescued me from a lonely existence. You're my family. I know it doesn't feel like it, but I wouldn't be here now, letting you shout at me and call me names, if I didn't love you. You deserve an explanation."
Jake dropped to his knees in front of Olivia. "I deserve a chance to make this right. We can fix what's broken between us."
"Oh, Jake," she said, cradling his face in her hands. "I'm what's broken in our marriage and a divorce is how we fix it."
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because I've learned that I need to love me as much as I love my partner. Loving me, truly loving me, means that I can't stay in a relationship where my wants aren't considered."
"Your wants aren't considered," he scoffed, easing onto the couch beside her. "No one gets everything they want. Successful relationships require sacrifice and compromise. You give on some things and you gain on others."
Olivia pushed herself to the corner of the couch, giving her some distance, so she was facing him. "That's what I've been telling myself for years. One of the things I've learned is you have to put your mask on first. You have to help yourself before you help someone else. I can't be the source of your happiness if I'm not happy. I'm not willing to compromise on my wants, not anymore, and you shouldn't either."
"What do you want? Tell me and I'll give it to you. Whatever it is, just tell me and I'll make this right," he pleaded.
"You know what I want. You've spent our entire relationship doing just enough to keep me content, but never enough to really be happy."
"You're my wife. Of course, I want you to be happy. Happy wife, happy life. Isn't that what they say? A happy wife doesn't cheat on her husband. A happy wife doesn't ask for a divorce."
"If you wanted me to be happy you would have moved to Boston instead of asking me to move to Miami." A small, involuntary tremor shot through her body when she uttered the word Boston, memories of her weekend with Fitz threatening to resurface.
"My job was here."
Olivia pulled herself together, now was not the time to be distracted by her thoughts of Fitz. "There are design firms in Boston. You could have gotten another job. It's not like you were planning a career at Zyscovich. Hell, you quit after five years. There's nothing special about Miami for either of us, but Boston...Boston's my home. My parents are buried there. Some of the most prestigious law and architectural firms in the country are located there. We both could have had the careers we wanted. We could have raised our kids with the same values and traditions I was raised with. We could have been happy there."
"We were happy here and we can be happy again. We can live anywhere you want. We can have all the babies you want. You can change careers. I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."
"You can't make me happy," Olivia said quietly. "We don't want the same things. If we did, we'd have them. Can you honestly say you won't resent me in five years when our three year old is throwing a tantrum in the living room, you're covered in infant vomit in the nursery with our youngest, and it's minus ten degrees outside with a foot of snow in the driveway?"
Under different circumstances, the look of horror on Jake's face would have been comical. In this moment it was heartbreaking confirmation that she was making the right decision. "If you don't want it, if you're only doing it to make me happy, we'll find ourselves right back here in a couple of years. Only this time you'll be asking for the divorce and there will be innocent kids caught in the middle of our carnage. I want to be happy, but I want you to be happy too. We can't both be happy in this marriage."
Olivia took Jake's hand, interlacing her fingers with his. "I really am sorry," she said, squeezing his hand, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek. Brushing away her own tears, she rose from the couch and turned away from Jake.
"Where are you going?"
Turning to face him, she replied. "Upstairs to pack. I asked for the divorce. I should be the one to leave." Without another word, she quickly exited the room and made her way upstairs.
Sitting on the couch, Jake grew dismayed as he watched Olivia make several trips up and down the stairs, frustratedly kicking rose petals out of the way, as she loaded her luggage into the car. He rolled his eyes thinking the petals would be a bitch to clean up in the morning. He expected her to pack an overnight bag, enough to get her through the weekend, but, from the number and size of the bags, he suspected she had packed at least half of her wardrobe.
After her last trip, she quietly walked back into the living room, retrieving a picture of her ten-year-old self with her parents from the bookshelf. Everyone was all smiles, dressed in Red Sox gear for opening day. It was one of her favorite childhood memories. As she turned to leave, Jake asked, "You don't want the other one?"
Olivia's eyes drifted to the picture on the opposite side of the shelf. It was from their wedding day. Abby had snapped the picture of them kissing after the justice of the peace had declared them husband and wife. Tears formed in her eyes as she recalled how hopeful she'd been about their future. "Jake..."
"You don't have to leave." Olivia could hear the defeat in his voice. "This house is big enough for the both of us. I'll move into the guest room. Give you all the space you need."
Olivia walked over to where Jake was sitting. "That wouldn't be fair to any of us."
"Any of us or either of us?"
"Does it matter how I answer that?"
"So, you're just going to leave and I'm supposed to accept it?"
"Not today, but hopefully soon."
"What am I supposed to do until then?"
"Cope." It came out more callous than she intended, but she hoped it would make it easier for him to watch her leave. He was heartbroken, but there was nothing she could do to comfort him. With that, Olivia abruptly turned on her heels and walked away, tears streaming down her face. Before she could make her exit, she felt a glass whizz by her head and crash into the wall in front of her, shattering into hundreds of pieces and leaving a large red wine stain where it made impact.
"He'll never love you the way I do," he called after her.
I certainly hope not, she thought before walking out the door.
XXXXX
Stephen Finch walked into the dimly lit building and found Fitz sitting in his usual place at the end of the bar, a nearly empty glass in his hand and a full one sitting in front of him. He signaled to the bartender that he'd have whatever Fitz was drinking as he settled onto the stool next to his friend. "What did Olivia do?"
"Why do you assume this is about Olivia?" Fitz asked before draining his glass.
"We're at your 'feelings' bar. She must have done something."
"My feelings bar?" Fitz asked incredulously.
"When you want to blow off steam, we go to Utopia or Wonderland, somewhere with beautiful, sexy as hell options. When you want to brood, we come here."
"I like it here. No one bothers me."
"That's because there's never more than ten people here and ninety percent of them are men. I don't know how this place stays in business. You don't own it, do you?"
Fitz laughed. "I don't own it."
"Sooo...what did she do?"
Fitz sighed. "Today's her wedding anniversary."
"She's with her husband?" Fitz nodded. "You expected something different?"
Fitz exhaled loudly. "Intellectually, no, but the thought of them together is killing me," he said, taking a large swig of his drink and signaling for the bartender to bring him another.
"How many of those have you had?"
"Not enough," Fitz barked.
"Is Brian working tonight?"
Fitz felt an immediate rush of rage. "I would never drive in this condition," he snarled. "Not after Elizabeth..." Fitz dropped his head, fidgeting with his glass.
"Damn, brotha, this thing with Olivia is for real."
Fitz looked up at his friend. "Why do you say that?"
"That's the first time in nearly twenty years that you've been able to say Elizabeth's name without looking like you wanted to die with her."
Fitz looked at his friend thoughtfully. "I still love her," he said softly. "I probably always will, but those feelings, the love I feel for her and the pain of her loss, they're all dulled. My feelings for Olivia are so intense, they just overwhelm everything else."
"Are you and Olivia together?"
"Not tonight," he sulked, taking another swallow of his drink. "Tonight, she's home fucking her husband."
"Are you going to stop being a little bitch and tell me what's going on?"
"I didn't ask you here to insult me."
"Why am I here?"
"I didn't want to drink alone."
"Fine, let's drink." Stephen signaled the bartender for another round. The bartender walked over and took a long look at Fitz. "It's okay," Stephen explained. "He can handle it. I'll make sure he gets home safely."
The two friends sat there on adjacent barstools, staring straight ahead and slowly sipping their drinks. It took almost a full five minutes before Fitz spoke again. "She said she was going to leave him." Stephen remained silent, waiting for his friend to invite him into the conversation. "She has a plan, a stupid twelve-day plan, to leave him."
"Is today with twelfth day?"
Fitz shook his head. "No, it's the fifth day."
"Then tonight is part of her plan?" Fitz shot his friend a scathing glance. "What? It's her wedding anniversary. She's a woman. They don't forget shit like that."
"She said she needed tonight to say good-bye to her husband."
Stephen nodded. "Makes sense."
"In what world?"
"Divorce is messy. You don't always get an opportunity for closure. If it's something she needs, she has to get it before the twelve days are up, before he knows she's leaving. He won't be the man she married after that."
"Is that what happened between you and Georgia?"
Stephen shook his head. "No, I took the coward's way out. I made her confront me. By the time she worked her way up to it, she was so hurt and angry she just wanted me gone." Stephen took a long sip from his glass. "I never should have married her. I knew better. She was just so beautiful, so perfect, I had to have her. I convinced myself that I could be a better man, the man she deserved. Turns out that was a lie. I wasn't a better man. I was a selfish son of a bitch and I didn't deserve her, never did."
"That's not what I'm doing."
"I hope not. No woman deserves what I put Georgia through."
"I've been ruined for other women ever since Olivia and I had that moment in my office when she asked about my values and I realized she could be the woman I was describing."
Fitz's phone started vibrating on the bar. He looked down and saw Olivia's face on his screen. As he reached for his phone, Stephen spoke up. "Don't answer that."
"It could be important. She may need me."
"What, you offer fluffing services now? Have some pride. Her husband is taking care of her needs tonight."
"Fuck you," Fitz snarled. "What if he's the reason she needs me?"
"Is he violent?"
"He broke my jaw."
"Oh shit," Stephen exclaimed. "Olivia is married to that dude. Damn, what did he do to you to make you come for him like this? I hope he doesn't have sisters."
"He does," he said with a laugh. "But I'm not interested. I found the woman for me."
Fitz looked anxiously at his phone.
"Calm down, if it's important, she'll call back or send a text." No sooner than the words were out of Stephen's mouth, Fitz's phone vibrated, alerted him to an incoming text. He quickly picked up his phone and read the message.
Olivia: I know you are mad. You have every right to be but I need to talk to you. Please answer the phone.
Fitz frowned at the phone. Olivia texted like a teenager. It drove him crazy when they first started working together, but now he found himself mimicking her style. There were only two reasons why she would send a message like that, either she was driving and dictated the message, or it wasn't her at all. Both possibilities intrigued him.
Stephen looked at Fitz. "What did she say?"
"She wants to talk."
"What are you going to do?"
"That depends."
"On?"
"How she answers this question." He quickly typed a message back to Olivia.
Fitz: Did u leave him?
He stared at his phone waiting for her response.
Olivia: Yes
Fitz immediately dialed Olivia's number while moving away from the bar for a little privacy. "I guess you got the answer you wanted," Stephen called after him.
After a few rings, Olivia answered the phone. "Hey," she greeted him, her voice straining with emotion.
"How are you?"
"Honestly," she said, followed by a long pause. "I don't know. This wasn't the plan. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
He could hear the frustration and rising panic in her voice. "What do you need?"
Olivia exhaled deeply. "This, to hear your voice and know that we'll be okay. I needed to know that you're out there."
"We're okay," he said softly, trying to comfort her. "I'm right here. We're in this together, remember?" The only response he received was the quiet sound of her soft sobs. He gave her a moment to compose herself before continuing. "Where are you?"
"In the car headed to Abby's. This was my decision. I am the one that needed to leave."
Fitz panicked. "You can't go there. It will be the first place he looks for you."
Olivia sighed. Fitz was right. Jake was already calling and texting her nonstop. Eventually he would give up and come looking for her. "Your condo will be the third place he looks."
Fitz's posture slumped a bit. Olivia knew his condo was a fortress. Even if Jake knew where he lived, the only way he would be allowed on the elevator is if Fitz or Olivia approved it. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe there, she just didn't want to spend the night with him. Pushing aside his disappointment, he pressed forward. "I was thinking about a hotel. How do you feel about a suite at the Setai? The security there is excellent, and they allow you to register under an alias. You'd be safe there. The view doesn't compare to mine, but the staff are attentive and discrete. You would be comfortable there for as long as you needed."
"The Setai? I can't -
"I don't want to argue with you, not tonight. If you're more comfortable at Abby's, that's where you should go." Even though he hadn't said it directly, he knew she understood the choice he was presenting. She could go to Abby's and wait for Jake to come claim her or she could prove she was trying and let him take care of her. Fitz held his breath while he waited for her response.
Olivia exhaled slowly. "You're right. Jake will be knocking on Abby's door within the hour. I'll go to the hotel."
Fitz silently punched the air in victory. Careful to keep his tone measured, he asked, "Do you want me to meet you there? I could help you get settled." He paused and waited for her response. When it didn't come, he added, "Or I could just call ahead. I know one of the concierges there. She'll have everything ready for you when arrive. What name do you want to use for the reservation?"
Olivia let her head fall back against the headrest. "I'm twenty minutes away. I'll see you there."
"I'm closer. I'll meet you at valet."
"Thanks, Fitz, for everything. See you soon."
"See you soon," he said before disconnecting the call.
Fitz has so much adrenaline coursing through him that it felt like he was floating as he made his way back to the bar where Stephen was waiting for him. "She did it. She actually did it!" he exclaimed, his words rushed and slightly slurred. "I can't believe she actually left the son of a bitch and on their anniversary no less. I have to go. I'm going to meet her at the Setai and help her get settled.
Stephen raised his hand getting the bartender's attention. "My friend needs a cup of coffee."
"Did you hear me? Olivia left her husband. I don't have time for coffee. I have to go," he said, pulling his wallet out his back pocket.
"Put your wallet away," Stephen scolded. "Text Brian and have a seat. This will only take a few minutes. We'll be done by the time he gets here." Looking at the bartender, he asked, "Will you make that coffee to go?"
"I don't need coffee. I'm fine," Fitz protested.
"Sit," Stephen barked.
Fitz's head snapped in his direction in surprise. Understanding his friend wasn't going to let him leave until they talked, he lowered himself onto the barstool in front of him. "What?" he asked with an attitude.
"Between the alcohol and conversation, you're lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. You need to calm down. Olivia just left her husband. She's not going to be in a celebratory mood. You need to temper that enthusiasm. Going through a divorce is a traumatic event, like being in a car accident." Fitz winced. "Sorry, poor choice of analogy. Olivia's family is broken and she's responsible for that. She's going to need some time to grieve, some time to heal. If you want to be with her, you're going to have to put her first. Right now, she needs space and to know that you'll be there when she's ready. Can you give her that?"
"I'll give her whatever she wants. Tonight, she wants a divorce. I'm going to make that as painless as possible for her."
"You're not listening. She doesn't need you to rush in and start fixing things. She needs to go through this at her pace and you need the same thing."
"You don't even know her. How do you know what she needs?" Fitz asked, his annoyance evident in his tone.
"You're right. I don't know Olivia, but I do know what it's like to go through a divorce. I know what it's like to live with the guilt of knowing you've hurt the person you promised to love. I also know how easy it is to lose yourself in someone new, someone that makes you feel good and helps you forget that you're terrible person."
"Olivia's not a terrible person. She's not you."
"We're both members of the same club. She cheated on her husband and then she left him. She's going to have to find a way to make her peace with that."
"She fell in love. That's different from what you did, what I've done. She didn't set out to hurt anyone."
"But she did and, if she's the woman you say she is, she's going to need to process that before she can move on. You can be the crutch that gets her through this, or you can be the man that's waiting for her on the other side, but you can't be both."
"Then what I am supposed to do? Abandon her?"
Stephen laughed, shaking his head. "We both know that's not an option. You'd be balls deep in a swimsuit model instead of sitting in this sad little bar with me if it was. I'm just telling you to find a way to support her without consuming her."
The bartender placed the to-go cup of coffee in front of Fitz at the same time as his phone vibrated on the bar. "That's Brian. I have to go."
"Drink that," Stephen said nodding towards the coffee. "You can't feel it now, but you're drunk," he said laughing. "You don't want to make an ass of yourself."
Fitz clapped his friend on the back. "Thanks for the advice."
"No problem. You've done it for me many many times." Growing very serious, he said, "You know she's going to be broken, right."
"I do," Fitz said quietly, trying to steel himself for the pain of watching her mourn the demise of her marriage.
"Don't try to fix her with your dick."
Fitz burst into laughter at his friend's sudden crudeness. "I won't."
"Even if she begs you for it. She'll hate you and herself in the morning. You can save you both some pain by being a gentleman tonight."
"I can do that."
Stephen studied his friend closely. "Have you ever told her no?"
"There's a first time for everything," Fitz replied as he walked out the door.
XXXXX
As promised, Fitz was standing at the valet station, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a grim look upon his face when Olivia pulled in front of the hotel. Olivia watched as he discretely handed the bellman a folded bill, gesturing toward the rear of her car and giving him instructions. She popped the trunk and smiled sadly as Fitz opened her car door and stepped back, waiting for her to get out. Fitz's heart broke as he took in her appearance. She was still wearing the outfit from dinner, her hair was perfect, and her makeup was only slightly smudged. However, everything had changed about the woman underneath those trappings since her left her mere hours ago. Simply put, she was emotionally devastated, the evidence was in her red and puffy eyes, the red and shiny tip of her nose, and her slumped, almost fetal, body posture, making her even smaller than usual.
Fitz, doing the only thing he knew to do in the moment, opened his arms and invited her in. Olivia crashed into his arms, desperate for the assurance of his embrace. "How are you feeling?"
Olivia looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. "Like the world's biggest asshole. I cheated on my husband and, when he begged me to stay and let him fix what I broke, I packed my bags and left him on our anniversary no less. And now I'm in the arms of my lover, who just hours ago told me to stay away from him until I got my shit together, crying because I chose to leave my husband. I told you...selfish asshole," she explained, moving to extract herself from his arms.
Fitz was tempted to rebut her statement but opted against it. Olivia didn't need him defending her in this moment. She knew the truth, even if she was choosing not to acknowledge it now. Releasing her from his arms, he asked, "What do you need? How can I help?"
Shivering with the sudden loss of his warmth, Olivia wrapped her arms around herself, her saddened eyes lowered to the ground. "This is wrong. I shouldn't have called you. I need to deal with this on my own."
Fitz stepped toward Olivia but didn't touch her. "You didn't ask me to come. I invited myself. You're obviously hurting, and I want to help but, if my presence is making things worse for you, I'll go. I'll ask you one more time, what do you need?"
Olivia was conflicted. Part of her was screaming for him stay, but the other part of her felt she deserved to be alone, deserved to be punished. After what she'd done to him and to Jake, she felt unworthy of his trust and devotion. She'd intentionally hid the full details her two-week plan, knowing he would eventually find out today was her anniversary and her deception would hurt him. She could smell the scotch on his breath and wondered if he was drinking to cover his pain. She lifted her eyes to his face. For once, she couldn't read the emotions in his blue eyes.
Every second that Olivia stood there frozen with indecision another stabbing pain was delivered to Fitz's chest. He'd offered to leave, but he hadn't expected her to let him. He'd assumed when she called him, she was telegraphing her need for him, but perhaps it was truly as she described, and she only wanted to hear his voice. Only wanted to know that when she was ready, he would be there. He'd watched for weeks as she struggled to make her decision, but this struggle, this indecision, was different and he didn't know what to make of it.
Deciding to make the first move, Fitz extended his hand to her. "Come with me. I'll get you checked in and up to your suite. I think a hot bath and a nice bottle of wine will help you unwind. Once you're all settled, I'll leave and give you the space you need to start processing everything."
Olivia flashed Fitz a small smile despite her eyes welling with a fresh round of tears. She took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. They stood there in close silence for a while before he gently led her in the direction of the revolving doors. As the couple walked behind the car, Fitz was shocked to see Olivia's luggage piled high on the bellman's cart.
Olivia's heart sank as she registered his surprise. "I'm not going back," she explained.
Emotionless, he looked down at her and replied, "You don't have to make that decision tonight."
Olivia's brow furrowed in confusion. For months he worked to persuade her that her future was with him and that he'd give her everything she'd ever wanted if she would leave her husband for him. Now that she'd finally left her husband, he was full of mixed signals. He showed up for her without her having to ask, but it felt like he was nervous and looking for the exit.
She stepped in front of him, placing her hand on his chest to stop his movement. "Look, I know you weren't expecting this to happen tonight. I also understand that the idea of me leaving my husband and running away with you was a fantasy, perhaps one you never thought would come true. Now that it's real, I completely get it if you're having second thoughts. This is a huge change for me, but it doesn't have to be a huge change for you. You don't have to be here. I made this decision for me and, while I'm incredibly grateful for everything you've done to get me to this point, you aren't obligated to take this journey with me. You can walk away at any time. I'm prepared to do this by myself."
Fitz huffed and raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Livvie...it's not what you think. I've had a lot to drink tonight. A loooot to drink and it's taking my full concentration to appear sober." He placed his hands on her hips, keeping her close, but being careful not to crowd her. "You're right, I wasn't expecting this to happen tonight, but when you texted me and told me you left him, I was ecstatic. But then I got here and saw that you're so sad. You're pain is palpable and I can't help but feel responsible. Everything that you're going through right now is my fault and instead of feeling guilty, I'm fucking giddy. I want you to pick me, but not if it hurts you this much."
Olivia stepped closer to him, reaching up and gently caressing his cheek. "Oh, Fitz, this is exactly why I hesitated when you offered to meet me here. Of course, I'm sad. I hurt Jake in the worse way imaginable after promising to love him forever. I never thought I would be the cheater; never thought I would be the reason my marriage failed. It didn't even have to be this way. It's not like you were pressuring me. I fear I did it this way so Jake would hate me so much that he wouldn't have any choice but to let me go. What kind of person does that?" she asked, tears once again streaming down her face.
"I'm sad that I've spent the past fifteen years waiting to be happy. I'm sad that I'm thirty-four years old and I haven't achieved a single one of my life goals. I'm sad that I'm standing here in front of you without a plan for what to do tomorrow, next week, next month or next year. I've been responsible for myself since I was sixteen and I've never felt this adrift. But I'm not sad that I left and I'm not sad that I chose you. I want you and I'm excited about the possibility of us, I just need some time before that can happen."
"I just want to help. I hate to see you cry," he said, wiping away her tears.
"You are helping. You're here with me now even though you're completely blasted. I should be the one taking care of you and tucking you into bed tonight," she said with a laugh. "Let's get inside and take care of everything so Brian can drive you home."
Fitz pulled her close and gently kissed her on the forehead. "You're not a terrible person and you're going to check off every one of your life goals. Your dreams have been delayed, but not deferred." He wrapped an arm around her waist and escorted her into the hotel.
When they entered the elegant lobby, dimly lit, and decorated in dark woods and neutral hues, they were greeted by a cheerful brunette. "Welcome to the Setai Hotel. How can I help you?"
"I'm Grant Thomas. I spoke with Jenna about twenty minutes ago."
"Welcome, Mr. Thomas. Ned, our concierge this evening, is expecting you. Please follow me."
As they were walking toward Ned's office, Fitz could feel Olivia staring at him. "What?"
"Grant Thomas?" she whispered. "That's not much of an alias. You just flipped your middle and last names."
Fitz laughed. "It cleverer than you think."
"Everyone knows your middle name. You're Fitzgerald Thomas Grant the third. The cuffs of all of your shirts are monogrammed FTG III," she whispered.
"That's the point. It's such a terrible alias no one would ever think to look for me under it."
"I don't know," she teased. "You date some pretty low-wattage women."
Fitz looked at her with a single raised eyebrow. "I assume 'date' is a euphemism."
"I was being kind. No need for slut shaming," she said with a laugh.
Fitz smiled down at Olivia. He knew it was a temporary reprieve, but it was good to hear her laughing. "Not anymore. I'm only dating lawyers that graduated first in their class from here on out," he said giving her a slight hip bump that caused her to laugh again.
As they were being shown into the concierge's office, Fitz's phone began to vibrate. He removed it from his pocket and shot an annoyed glare at the screen. "I'm sorry, but I have to take this," Fitz explained, holding up his phone as he stepped away to take the call.
Olivia stepped into the office, looking at her watch and frowning. It was a little after eleven o'clock that evening. She wondered what he needed to attend to this late. She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard the concierge clear his throat. "You can come in," the man said.
"I'm - uh - he had to take a call."
"It's okay. You can wait for him in here," he said, gesturing to one of the chairs.
Olivia looked at him uncertainly before stepping back into the hall looking for Fitz. When she didn't see him, she walked fully into the office. "He said he made all of the arrangements with another concierge. Jenna, I think, but I don't have any of the details. I'm sorry."
"It's fine," he said. "I have it all pulled up here." Ned watched as the woman settled into the chair in front of him and was immediately struck by two things - she was stunningly gorgeous and there was no doubt she'd been crying. The tears plus her earlier hesitation gave him pause. He had seen it before, a young beautiful woman on the arm of some rich asshole that treated her like shit because he could. Ned leaned toward her and beckoning her forward. "If he's hurting you or forcing you to do something you don't want to do, I can help you," he whispered urgently.
Olivia smoothed her hair and smiled sweetly at the man. "I must look quite a sight if you think I'm in distress. I assure you he's not hurting me. In fact, he's helping me."
Ned flushed with embarrassment. He'd seen an upset, but beautiful woman and overreacted. He hoped she didn't report him to management. He needed this job. "I'm very sorry."
"There's no need to apologize. You accurately assessed that I'm upset, but F - Grant is not the reason. The Setai Hotel is lucky to have such a compassionate and caring employee."
Breathing a little easier, the concierge nodded in appreciation. "Thank you, ma'am. Do you know you're bleeding?" he asked, pointing to her shoulder.
"What?" she asked, twisting her head trying to look at the injury.
Fitz quietly walked up behind Olivia, startling her when she heard his voice. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"She's bleeding, sir," the concierge explained, once again pointing to Olivia's shoulder. "I'm going to get a first aid kit."
"I don't remember getting hurt. Is it bad?" Olivia inquired, reaching to explore the injury with her fingers.
Fitz gently pushed her fingers away, bending over to examine her shoulder. "It's not bad. It looks like a cut, a little more than a scrape, but I think there's something in there." He touched the wound, making Olivia wince in pain. At that moment, the concierge returned carrying the first aid kit. "Do you have a pair of tweezers in there?" Ned rummaged through the kit for a few moments before handing Fitz the requested item. "What the hell?" Fitz exclaimed as he removed a thin shard of glass from her shoulder, holding it up for her to see. "How did you get glass in your shoulder?"
Olivia dropped her head. "When I was leaving Jake threw a glass -
"That son of a bitch threw a glass at you!" Fitz roared in anger. "I'm going to -
"He didn't throw a glass at me," Olivia explained, placing her hands on his forearms, trying to calm him down. "He threw a glass at the wall near me. A shard must have ricocheted off and embedded in my shoulder."
"Fucking ridiculous," Fitz muttered, while he took the antibiotic ointment and band aid from the first aid kit and tended to Olivia's wound.
"You said yourself it's just a scrape. I'm fine. We're fine," she tried to rationalize with him.
When he was finished bandaging her shoulder, Fitz lowered himself into the chair beside her. "Thank you, Ned. If you don't mind, it's been a long night, I'd really like to get checked into our room." Olivia looked at him through narrowed eyes. As grateful as she was to have him there, tonight she needed space to think and she wouldn't get that with him passed out in her bed.
"Certainly. Jenna took care of almost everything. We have you staying in the Penthouse Suite for two months."
"I don't need the Penthouse Suite. A regular room is fine," Olivia protested.
"You've grown too accustomed to settle for less than you're worth," Fitz dismissed. "I won't allow you to do that with me. Not only do you need it, but you'll be really happy you have it. I'll show you why when you get upstairs."
The concierge looked expectantly at Olivia. How could she object when he tied his ridiculous habit of overspending to her value? She nodded her head in resignation. "The suite is fine."
"Excellent," the concierge commented. "I need both of your IDs and a form of payment." Fitz retrieved his credit card and driver's license from his wallet and handed it to the young man and Olivia followed suit with her driver's license. "Thank you." Looking at Olivia he continued, "Now, I just need the name you'd like to use for the registration."
Olivia paused for a moment before responding. "Maya Thomas."
"Thank you, Mrs. Thomas." Turning to Fitz, he asked, "And Mrs. Thomas is fully authorized to make charges to the account?"
"Of course," Fitz replied, still grinning about Olivia's alias choice.
The concierge handed Fitz a small portfolio. "Everything you need is in here. Your luggage should be in your bedroom when you arrive. Do you need me to send someone up to unpack your bags?"
"Not tonight. Maya may request someone in the morning."
"In that case, I'll show you to the private elevators," the concierge said, rising from behind his desk and motioning for Fitz and Olivia to follow him. The couple quietly walked behind Ned, leaving him to fill the space prattling off all the amenities available to guests. As they got closer to the elevators, the emotions of the day began to overwhelm Olivia, turning the concierge's voice into something that resembled Charlie Brown's teacher, "Wah wah woh wah wah."
Olivia began to break down the moment the elevator doors finally closed, leaving her alone with Fitz. Without conscious thought she gravitated toward the corner of the elevator, as if to punish herself. In a matter of seconds tears were flowing freely down her face, her slender body racked with sobs as she grieved for her lost love, lost virtue, and lost youth. Her tears weren't tears of remorse or regret, they were tears of guilt and shame. She was the transgressor and yet here she was in the private elevator of a luxury hotel waiting to be whisked off by her Prince Charming to her new fairytale life. It all felt wrong and made her want to run away screaming. She cringed when she felt a comforting hand on her uninjured shoulder.
She moved out of his reach. "Don't, please. I can't tolerate you being nice to me right now."
"I'm sorry," he said, stepping away from her.
Without turning around Olivia spoke. "Don't apologize. You haven't done anything wrong," she said through sniffles, wiping away her tears. "I'm a mess, but none of this is your fault." Her thought was interrupted by her ringing cell phone. She removed the phone from her clutch, silencing the ringtone, but allowing the call to go unanswered.
"Jake?" he asked, biting back the rising jealousy.
Olivia turned to him and shook her head. "The text messages and voicemails were getting more agitated. I had to block him."
"Abby?"
Olivia nodded. "Jake probably contacted her. I guess I'm officially missing."
"Do you need to answer her, to let her know you're okay?"
Olivia raised her arms in defeat. "Does this look like I'm okay?"
"Livvie..." he pleaded, stepping toward her. Before he could finish his statement, the elevator doors opened, and Olivia quickly stepped out into the opulent space.
Olivia's breathe hitched as she took in the entrance to luxurious suite. The suite occupied the entire fortieth floor and from the little she could see it was elegantly decorated carrying the theme of dark woods and natural hues into the room. Despite her circumstances, she couldn't help but wonder how many celebrities had stood where she was now standing, and she struggled to accept the reality that this would be her home for the next few weeks. "Fitz," she whispered, "this is too much for just me."
"You haven't even seen the place. You can't possibly make that judgement. Come on," he said nonchalantly, taking her hand, "let me give you the tour."
He took his time leading her through the suite, showing her every luxury - the baby grand piano in the sitting area, the twelve person dining room, the fully stocked gourmet kitchen, the double living room with panoramic ocean views, and four bedrooms all with what she assumed would be breathtaking views during the daytime. "I'm only one person. Why do I need four bedrooms?" Olivia protested as Fitz led her out of the master bedroom and back towards the elevator. "This suite is double the size of my house."
"Quadruple," Fitz corrected. "You still haven't seen the best part. This way," Fitz instructed as he enthusiastically led her to the end of the hall. He slid open the door and stepped outside, extending his hand to her. Olivia stepped out on the romantically lit terrace and into the night air, greeted by a warm, salty ocean breeze on her face. "Ta da," he exclaimed, gesturing proudly to a twenty-foot lap pool. "This is why you needed a four-bedroom suite. It's the only one with a private pool," he said beaming.
Standing there, watching the twinkling light of the Miami skyline at night, Olivia felt herself swoon a bit. Everything about the suite was ridiculously excessive. No single person needed more than ten thousand square feet of living space. But as loathe as she was to admit it, he was right. In this moment it was exactly what she needed. "It's perfect," she said, her eyes once again watering with a fresh round of tears. "Thank you."
Fitz stepped toward her, once again wiping away her tears. "I didn't mean to start the waterworks again."
"It's fine," she sniffled. "At least these are happy tears."
Fitz looked at her adoringly. "I just want to make you smile, Livvie. I know you can't imagine it now, but I promise you that this will all be a distant memory in a few months.
Olivia turned away from Fitz, staring out at the city. "This won't be over in a few months," she said quietly.
"Your divorce won't be final in a few months, but the grief and guilt that you're feeling now will be. You deserve to be happy." A gust of wind blew across the terrace, causing Olivia to shiver. Fitz walked toward her and continued talking. "I know you're regretting the decisions we made, but you know us being together was going to hurt Jake whether it happen while you were married or after you were divorced." When he was behind her, he asked, "Can I hold you?" Olivia nodded silently and Fitz wrapped his arms around her from behind, locking his hands at her waist and drawing her back against his body. Eventually he felt her begin to relax in his arms. "This all must be overwhelming. All those emotions swirling around bumping into each other. Don't let him manipulate you in this moment. Trust your gut." He kissed her gently on the top of her head. "It's never wrong."
Hearing his words but not being in a space where she could process them, Olivia chose to allow the comments stand without responding. She rested her hands on top of his and tried to focus on her most immediate needs. "We should go inside. I want to change into my own clothes."
"Come on," he said, releasing his hold on her, taking her hand, and leading her back into the suite. "Your things should be in the master bedroom closet. Do you want a bath? They should have everything you need."
"That would be nice."
After entering the bedroom, the couple moved in two separate directions - Olivia went in the closet looking for her loungewear and Fitz went in the bathroom to draw her bath.
Finally alone, Olivia took a moment to just be. She stood there with her eyes closed, breathing deeply as she struggled to gather herself. Nothing had gone according to plan that day and the resolute confidence she felt during her argument with Jake was starting to fade. In its place were feelings of self-doubt. She'd come into her relationship with Jake with a ton of dead daddy baggage. She could admit in the beginning it felt good not to be alone, not to be responsible for every single decision, to have someone take care of her for once. Even then she knew she wanted a family, someone with whom she could recreate all that she'd lost, and Jake had filled that void. She had been eager to have an older man's affections and approval, but she allowed the pendulum to swing too far. She ignored it when Jake started subtly nudging her life in a new direction, away from her plans and ambitions and towards his own. How had the strong, determined teenager that fought for her independence wind up here in this moment, alone with nothing to show for the past decade and half except a framed law degree collecting dust in a closet in a home she'd abandoned?
Leaving Jake was supposed to be her reclaiming her identity, but she'd only been separated from him for little over an hour and already she was allowing another man to step in and start making decisions for her. Granted, the decisions Fitz made felt to be in her best interest, but she was sure things felt that way with Jake in the beginning. Was she repeating the mistakes of her past with Fitz?
She opened her eyes and stared at herself in the floor length mirror, trying to figure out who was the woman staring back at her. She had been a young woman full of hopes, dreams, and ambitions, but this woman, the one staring back at her is the mirror, was barely recognizable. This woman was a glorified secretary, a liar, and a cheat. This woman willfully disregarded the commitments she made in the pursuit of temporary physical pleasures. This woman had walked out on the life she'd built with her husband to be with a man that had never built anything with anyone. Unable to bear the sight of herself any longer, she turned her back to the mirror and began undressing.
Not wanting to confuse things by walking into the bathroom naked, Olivia wrapped herself in the fluffy, white robe provided by the hotel and slowly walked through the bedroom in search of Fitz in the bathroom. She slowly opened the door and found him leaning over the tub, lighting a series of candles. Olivia's face blanched as for the second time in as many hours she'd walked in on a wholly unwelcomed romantic scene. Her heart thumped in her chest and her pulse raced in her ears as she searched for the words to reject Fitz's advances without seeming ungrateful for all that he'd done for her tonight.
Fitz took one look at her panicked expression and immediately realized that she'd misinterpreted the scene before her. "This isn't - I wouldn't - I don't expect you to -". Fitz released a frustrated sigh, raking his fingers through his curls. Flashing her a quick crooked smile, Fitz explained, "I just want to take care of you tonight. I'm not expecting anything in return."
Olivia's face flushed with embarrassment. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Fitz dismissed. Turning his attention back to the bathtub, he added, "I couldn't decide between oils or bubbles, so I went with both. I hope you don't have sensitive skin."
Olivia giggled. "I don't." She fidgeted with the tie on her robe, trying to figure out how to ask him to step out of the bathroom so she could get in the tub. She felt foolish given they'd last been together little over twenty-four hours ago, but the thought of being naked in front of him in this moment made her uncomfortable. Before she could say anything, the chime of the doorbell sounded throughout the suite.
Fitz smiled at her. "That's room service. I'll get it while you get settled in here." He reached out and gently caressed her cheek before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind him.
Olivia quickly untied her robe and allowed it to slip off her shoulders and pool around her ankles. She stepped out of the pile of fabric and walked to the tub. Resting on the edge, she plunged her hand into the water to check the temperature. It was nice and hot, just the way she liked it and, as she'd learned, too warm for Fitz. He'd been telling the truth earlier when he said it was just for her. Without hesitation, she swung her legs into the tub and slipped below the surface of the water. Olivia leaned back and closed her eyes, sighing contently as the hot water began to soothe her taut muscles. Much to her dismay, the physical letdown was immediately followed by an emotional letdown as a fresh round of tears dampened her cheeks.
There was a soft knock on the door. "Come in," Olivia called out, wiping away her tears, but not before Fitz saw them. He looked at her without speaking, allowing his eyes to telegraph his love, his pity, and his tender sympathy. "These aren't about him," she explained.
Fitz smiled warmly, having a seat on the edge of the tub, and pouring the wine from the bottle in his left hand into the glass in his right hand. Giving her the full glass, he said, "It's okay if they are."
Olivia took a big sip from the glass. "I'm the one that wanted to leave. It's ridiculous to keep crying because I got exactly what I asked for."
Fitz shrugged. "The pain of your loss isn't minimized because it was your decision to leave. You've spent almost half of your life with him. You're allowed to mourn the end of that relationship."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "I'm glad I have your permission," she scoffed, setting her wine glass on the floor.
"You know that's not what I meant. You don't need my permission to do anything, but if you'll allow me, I'd like to be the one to comfort you. Do you want to talk about what made you cry?"
"I miss my mom," Olivia whined, sinking underneath the water.
Fitz kicked himself for not anticipating this would be an issue. The damn scotch was clouding his brain, limiting his focus to only what was directly in front of him. If he were going through what Olivia was going through his mother would have been his first call and he'd be with her instead of in some luxurious, but sterile hotel suite. He suddenly felt inept and incapable of caring for her in this moment. He should have done better and vowed to do so in the future. If given the chance, he would never again let her down like this.
Olivia surfaced, wiping the water from her face. Fitz watched in fascination as her hair began to revert to its natural state, her beauty once again robbing him of his breath. How could he bring comfort to this woman who had changed his life so profoundly? Treading lightly, in a voice just loud enough to be heard, "If she were here right now, what would she say?"
Olivia's face lit up as she recalled fond memories of her mother. "She would say 'You are worthy'. She always started with an affirmation. You are beautiful. You are intelligent. You are special. You get the point."
Fitz smiled warmly at her. "What else would she do?"
"She would play eighties dance music - Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, Madonna, and Prince - loudly on the stereo and we'd have a party in the living room. When we were exhausted from dancing, she'd pop a huge bowl of popcorn, pour me a glass of grape juice, pour herself a glass of red wine, and we'd sit in the kitchen eating, drinking, and talking until I could find the path forward." Olivia laughed. "Looking back on it, modeling coping with alcohol wasn't her best parenting technique." She stilled and took another long sip of wine, a faraway look in her eyes.
Fitz watched Olivia closely. The channeling of her mother had calmed her, but he could tell there was something else, something more she needed in this moment. "What would she say to put you on the right path tonight?"
Once again Olivia's eyes began to well with tears. "She'd tell me that doing a bad thing doesn't make me a bad person." There was a look of disappointment on Fitz's face. "What?" she asked.
Fitz shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I expected something more profound from the woman who taught you to appreciate a good glass of red wine."
Olivia nodded. "She died before I was a teenager. That was profound for my age. My mother taught me to never judge my worth through someone else's eyes. She taught me to value myself and my body and to never share myself with someone who wasn't deserving of my time." Olivia looked up at him, her tears freely falling. "She'd be so disappointed in me now."
Fitz's face twisted in anguish. "Because of me?"
Olivia slowly shook her head. "No, because of me. What kind of coward was I to marry him and not wait for you to show up?" she asked before once again slipping under the surface of the water.
Fitz stared at the tub, willing her to emerge so they could share this moment. As the seconds ticked by it dawned on him that Olivia wasn't ready to be in this space with him. She'd come a long way, but she was literally hiding from him, unable to face the truth she'd just shared. Fitz's heart had never felt so full and so broken as he realized it was time for him to leave.
He stood up at the same time Olivia's head emerged from the water. She cleared the soapy water from her eyes and frowned at him. "Are you leaving?"
"I promised you a hot bath and a bottle of wine. I've delivered both. Now, it's time for me to go so you can have some space. It's been a long night and I'm sure you need your rest."
"You don't have to leave."
Fitz smiled weakly. "It's better if I do. If you need anything, and I do mean anything, call me. It doesn't matter what time it is. I'm only fifteen minutes away."
Olivia returned his sad smile. "Thank you for everything. I know I haven't been my best self today and that I hurt you in the process. You didn't have to do any of this, but you showed up for me, even when I tried to push you away. I really am sorry for not being honest with you. I should have trusted you to understand."
Fitz shrugged. She was giving him more credit than he deserved. If she had told him everything, he would have spent the entire week trying to talk her out of her plan. Her way, although painful for both of them, really was best. "No need to apologize. You were upfront that you needed twelve days. Today is only day five." He squatted beside the tub and kissed her on her forehead and running his fingers through her hair. "I know you can't hear it tonight, but I need you to know how I feel about you."
"I know," Olivia replied, this time her smile reaching her eyes. "You show me every day. You aren't leaving because you're running away. You're putting me first and I appreciate that."
"Always," he said, gently caressing her cheek. "I'll call to check on you in the morning."
"Call the hotel. My phone is off and I'm not ready to turn it back on. Is Brian driving you tonight?"
"He's downstairs waiting for me. I'll see myself out. Goodnight, Liv," he said, kissing her one last time.
"Goodnight, Fitz. Take some Tylenol and drink a bottle of water before you go to bed. You're going to feel like shit in the morning."
Fitz laughed, knowing he wasn't the only one, before bidding her a final farewell as he took his leave.
A/N: As always, I love to read your thoughts – good, bad, and otherwise. Stay safe and healthy!