A/N: This chapter is purely Fitz's point of view and there's no Olitz in it. There might not be for a whole bunch of chapters, to be honest. But it's really important, if you're really into the case. I had a hard time writing it, only because it's so vital to the story. Also, do you guys like the flashbacks? Because I think I'm gonna try to incorporate them a lot more. If that's okay with y'all. Tell me in the reviews! This story may seem like it's going very slow from this point on, but everything I write is for a reason. Enjoy this chapter. Oh, and there's some mental illness implication in this chapter, so if that's a trigger for you, I wanted to let you know.

Fitz's POV

The thing they don't tell you about prison is just how lonely it is. Yeah, there are some scary times, like when you're in the bathroom alone at midnight and you get beaten half to death. But then there are those empty, stolen moments when you're alone in your cell, wearing that bright orange jumper that just doesn't fit right on your body, and thinking about how things got the way they did.

I was a privileged boy. I took things for advantage. Never did I ever think I would end up like this. Here. I never even did drugs. I never smoked marijuana, not even once - in high school, college, never. I always got the highest marks in my class. Although I had girlfriends, I never had never lived with a woman before Mellie. And I never cheated. Not until last night.

It's one o'clock pm and I'm supposed to be in the meal room with the other inmates. Then I have ten minutes in the fenced courtyard. But I'm not ready to face them yet. I'd rather starve. I still wear the Orange jumper instead of the normal beige prison outfit, since I'm not officially found guilty yet. But everybody assumes I am. It's so ridiculous - I don't even know what evidence they have. But apparently, they have a ton of it. Most of it compensates from Mellie not giving her testimony. She refuses to clear my name. And I know why.

But I'm not ready to think about that yet. For now, I'm just sitting here on my bed, wondering how everything turned so shitty so quickly.

I have four cellmates in a cell that's smaller than my shoe closet back at home.

Two of them are never here - Ace and BG. I don't really know what their real names are. At least they don't mess with me. Ace even talks to me sometimes, and not in a mean way. Not in a nice way either. Somewhere in between. They're really big and buff and they're always together. From what I hear, they're apart of this contraband circle in the jail, but I don't want to get into that. So I just stay out of their way.

The other guy, I don't know his name either. But the other guys call him 'Low' for 'lowkey' or something. He's really scrawny and he has these broken gold rimmed glasses that are taped in the middle. He stays in his bed with this weird journal almost all day and whispers shit during the night. It's unsettling. But he doesn't talk - at all. Ace and BG annoy him sometimes but he doesn't say much of anything. It's really weird, but I guess a gubernatorial candidate in jail isn't exactly typical either.

I miss Olivia. It's hard to blame her for any of this, especially since I know she'll work hard to get me out of here. Those twenty or so minutes with her were the highlight of this week. Maybe even this year. I'll go so far as to even say my life. Because I have never been with a woman other than my wife and her. I mean yeah, there were those little flings before Mellie, those meaningless relationships. And then Mellie came along (not exactly. She was brought to me, so to speak). Being with Mellie was so good at a time. She was my wife and we were both knew to marriage and love. We both had such huge hopes and dreams for the future and we bonded over that. She was supportive and she was funny. She was my best friend. And then she was the mother of my kids. And then...she was a stranger. I'm in awe, looking back. Our relationship was so toxic. We could go for weeks without even talking to each other. We held it in for the kids and the election. But we didn't love each other anymore.

I feel different with Olivia. I mean, I could name a hundred reasons why we shouldn't be together. Why we probably won't be together. But I want to. God, I want to. But there's Mellie and there's Jake and there's the whole fucking crap situation we're in. I'm so damaged and I guess if she actually had sex with me, she is too. But I don't care. In my eyes, she's perfect. She's the most perfect human being I've ever met. Me, stepping into the shower was not expected, but it wasn't a mistake. I wouldn't trade those twenty minutes for the world. I can't even think about what type of man that makes me. But I don't care.

Upon realizing and contemplating all of this, I realize just how unhygienic I have been in my time here. Since there is no bathroom in our cell, I get up and wearily exit through our unlocked door. I have a understandable phobia of prison bathrooms because of recent circumstances but my urge to pee overrides that. I just take a deep breath and make my way to the large bathroom that's shared by the B Block, where my cell is. The bathroom is open with a guard in front of it. Upon looking closer, I realize that that guard is the same one from the other night. He left me and I got beat up because of it. I think about just letting it go, but something, some type of anger and resentment in me doesn't allow that. "Hey."

He doesn't look at me. "Keep walking, inmate."

I know he remembers me. I know he knows what his actions caused. I'm just so pissed off that he won't even look me in the eye. "You remember me, don't you?"

"I said," he replies, still not quite meeting my glare. "Keep walking. Or I'll write you up."

Okay, that just assures me that he remembers me and knows exactly what happened. This son of a bitch. I come up closer to him, even though I know I shouldn't. Realistically, I could take him. I'm about two inches taller and I'm more buff than his twiggy looking ass. He's kinda scary looking - dark, with a bunch of tattoos lined up his forearms. But it's all show. I could take him. But I won't. I just want to know why he did what he did. That's stupid - I already know. He believes I am a child murderer. So it's kinda hard to get pissed at him about letting my ass get beat.

I turn away, wiping my nose. I hate to say it, but I'm getting really emotional. I'm too unstable to use the bathroom and although I would rather die than let anyone see my cry, going back to my cell would just make it worse. Since everyone is at lunch, I go down to the E Block wearily to the prison rec room. It's a poor excuse for one - just a round table with uncomfortable chairs and outdated newspapers, a old radio by the window still, some religious book type things by the corner and a really crappy television on the top left wall. I take a seat on one of the chairs and take the remote, flicking through the channels in company of two guards, even though I'm the only inmate there. I know I won't get another chance to watch any television, since everyone always fights (yes, literally physically fights) over the remote, so I'll spend these few peaceful minutes here. I flip through at least ten channels before I land on CNN. The quality of the TV is plain out horrible but I can still make out the figure and face of Asher Harris, the democratic governor candidate who was running against me. I stare in awe at him and his blonde wife by his arm, standing on the steps of the Superior Court of California, dozens of reporters around them. The subtitle underneath reads, 'GUBERNATORIAL CANDIDATE ASHER HARRIS SEEN PUBLICLY FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER SINCE OPPONENT FITZGERALD GRANT WAS ARRESTED'.

Five Month Ago

"I hate you," she spits. "I fucking hate you. I wish I had never met you. I wish my bastard of a father had never introduced me to you. I hate you. I hate you with everything in me."

I look down. I know Mellie can be pretty tough but when she's drunk, she's just plain out mean. I don't even know why she's mad. Scratch that, I do. It was Karen's sixth birthday last week and I had to make an appearance in the Bay Area with my father, missing her party. I felt guilty about the whole thing, apologized profusely to Karen and took her out for ice cream. Karen forgave me right away, but I guess her mother never did. The thing about this ordeal that annoys me is that Mellie isn't even mad that I missed our daughter's birthday. She's mad that I made her look bad in front of all the PTA moms that were in attendance.

I lean over and try to pry the bottle of vodka away from Mellie's hand, but she goes ballistic and gives me a straight, red scratch mark on my palm. "Jesus, Mellie. What is wrong with you?"

Mellie laughs obnoxiously before taking a gulp of vodka. "Me? ME? I'm fine. Oh, honey - it's you I am worried about. I'm so done with you. I'm done with this political marriage. I'm done with all of this shit. Good luck finding a wife who will stay by your arms and say good things about you. Because there are no good things left to say!"

I shake my head. I don't care about all the shit she throws my way. I just don't want her waking up my kids. I've had it up to here with her. I know her very well - she talks smack when she's drunk but when she's sober she's too pissed and fake to fight me. I'm not worried - I know she'll stick around. He wants fame and fortune just as much as me.

"You don't even deserve to be Governor," Mellie continues. I roll my eyes. It's not the first time she's used this argument. "You'll never be as good as your father. The mailman would be a better governor. Honestly. Do you really think you'll win this election? You're a worthless piece of shit, Fitz. I hope Asher wins the election."

I grimace. I try to not take what she's saying to heart, especially since I've been taking her shit for years now. I'm used to her bitching to me. But some stuff she says actually gets me thinking. Actually gets me upset. I guess I'm a confident guy, but I'm pretty sensitive in my heart. Mellie knows this and takes advantage of it. I get up from the couch of my home office. There are some arguments I can't win and trying to with Drunk Mellie is an idiotic move. I'm tired and it's not worth it.

"Where are you going?" Mellie demands from behind me. She walks up to me and swiftly slaps my face - HARD. I blink, taken aback. Mellie has hit me before, but never so violently. Maybe she thought that I would hit her back, even though I never would. I'm from a disgusting family that felt it was natural for women to be beaten by their husbands but I am not one of those husbands. I don't even discipline my kids like that. It's not my place. Still, what the fuck? It's not okay for Mellie to get away with that. Especially since I hadn't done anything wrong.

"What the hell?" I scream, throwing her hand off my face. I'm okay, I can take it. But it stings a lot and I know it'll leave a mark. "You can a big game, Mells! You can say that Harris will be a better governor, you can tell me this problematic excuse of a marriage is my fault...you can even call me a shitty father. You know why? Because none of that is true, so it doesn't bother me. But don't you dare put your hands on me!"

"It's too late!" Mellie throws her hands in the air. "Don't you get it, Fitz? It's too late. Twelve years ago, it was still too late. Because you're to blame for all of this, you're the worst father on the planet and I've already slept with Asher!"

X

I close my eyes, recalling that God-awful moment. I wasn't as angry as I was surprised. Sure, Mellie and I were in a toxic, loveless marriage. Sure, we hadn't slept together for the longest time. Sure, the only moments of affection we shared were for the press. But infidelity? It was horrible. It was risky (for the campaign) and it was just plain gross for our kids to have to deal with. I guess we could have divorce and we considered it a long while back, after Karen was born. But my father had refused to let us get the divorce, much like with the abortion. Now that I think about it, it's not unthinkable that Mellie slept with another guy. It's hard to blame her. It's just...Asher? Why?

Believe it or not, Asher Harris was once my best friend. We did two tours in Iraq together, years and years ago. When we were stationed in Baghdad, there was an IED and he saved my ass from it - literally pushed me out of the way when he presumed it would explode. We bonded right away and it evolved to an idealistic friendship. When you're out there with someone - not knowing when if you're gonna live to see another day - you grow into a relationship that can't be compared to anything. When we came back, he vacationed in my Bel Air house for a while. That was one of the best summers of my - we chilled out by the pool, the beach, all these clubs. Even though I was a popular guy in my private high school, then at University of Southern California and then Stanford, I had never had met anyone as funny, laid back or as relatable as Asher. He was the younger brother I never had. We hung out so often, he knew my father and they formed a bond too. One day they were talking, and my dad informed me that Asher was also interested in a California political career, even though he was from Nevada. I didn't really care but my dad warned me and I was still so young, I believed him. And it was really weird that he decided to almost mirror my political career after our military one. Even though Asher and I faded, we were never cruel or manipulative or each other. And up until five months ago, we were genuinely good acquaintances. The truth was that I was gonna win the election - nobody doubted it. Asher was a good politician but his family just didn't have the means or resources like mine did. Asher knew this, I guess. He was young - three years younger than me. Handsome too, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. But I guess the people of California want a man leading them, not a boy. He was smart, but he was immature and he didn't know exactly what he was talking about at times. But we weren't the typical closed door enemies like most opponents. I still respected him, vice versa. We weren't best buds, but we were actually good friends. He was the best man at my wedding. He's Gerry and Karen's godfather. And I know that sounds strange, because he was, after all, my opponent. But it was never weird for us.

I guess Mellie sleeping with him was some sick, twisted form of revenge of her part. She knew it would hurt me. I stopped talking to both of them for a long time. I worked harder on my campaign, spread rumors and lies about Asher, just in spite of him. And before this whole thing blew over, I was still mad at both of them.

This doesn't, however, correlate to my sleeping with Olivia. I didn't do it in spite of Mellie - it wasn't about Mellie at all. I did it for me.

Four Months Ago

"Alright, perfect," the young, pretty photographer calls me out to me as another flicker pops from the camera she's holding. I smile again, this time with teeth, eyeing her for approval. "Perfect, Mr. Grant. Wonderful. You're a pro at this."

I yawn, stopping for a minute to rub my eyes. Between all these sponsor meetings with my father and Cyrus and all these promotional pictures, I've barely gotten any sleep. I'm used to it by now. I've only been at this months on end. So it's understandable that when the photographer tells me how I good I am at fake smiling in front of a sign for YellowStone park, I'm none too proud.

"Um, can I get in on this?"

I look up and sure enough, there is Asher Harris stepping out of his Rolls Royce. Yeah, I know that this is a promotional event for the park and he's supposed to be here - I just thought I could avoid him. It was stupid thinking, in retrospect.

"Sure!" the photographer nods enthusiastically. "Get in on the shot."

Asher hands his keys to an assistant to park and hikes up over the small hill to stand next to me. Before posing, he gives me a genuine hug that I'm too stiff to return. I've been avoiding him since Mellie told me a few weeks ago. Doesn't he get the memo?

"Fitz," he pats my shoulder, and not just for the cameras. "How are you doing, my man?"

I don't say anything, just stuff my hands in my jeans pockets and hope my sunglasses ward off the anger I'm feeling right now. I want to punch him in the face. I wanna march over to the lake adjacent to us and strangle him in there. I want him away from me. Is that too much to ask?

"Come closer," the photographer orders us and Asher, of course, obeys. "Smile."

And I do. I smile like I've never smiled before. Because that's the only thing that's keeping me from killing the man next to me.

X

"Hey, Fitz."

I physically turn away from him, not caring whether anyone notices. We're in a large cabin deep inside the park, having the complimentary lunch for the event. But I'm not feeling very grateful at this point. Just pissed off. I want nothing to do with Asher - not now, not ever. I've been trying to hide it, play it out for the cameras and shit, but I'm really about to break if he continues to annoy the hell out of me.

"Fitz," Asher repeats, his voice quieter. "Look man - what's going on?"

I close my eyes, gripping my coffee cup in my hand. No amount of caffeine in the world could make me ready to have this conversation. But it looks like it's gonna happen anyway. I take him by the crease of his elbow and subtlety drag him to a nearby empty room, which looks like an administrative office. I lock the door and close the blinds, my hand shaking with rage. I throw the cup of coffee on the floor, away from me as to not get on my shoes or clothes. Asher flinches.

"Yo, man," he tries to laugh it off, staring at the pool of dark roast coffee forming on the blue short carpet. "Everything alright?"

I try to breath, despite my jaw literally trembling from anger. And hurt. "Does it look like everything's alright? I know, okay? I know about you and Mellie. I know about all of it."

I can't explain just how quickly Asher's face turns pale, colorless and ghostly. It would be funny if it wasn't absolutely disgusting. He doesn't even try to defend himself, doesn't try to make up any excuses or lies. Doesn't try to tell me I'm crazy, because he knows that I'm not. "Fitz. I'm sorry."

"You're crazy!" I shout, without caring if anyone outside hears. "First, you pull a psychotic move and decide to run for Governor when I'm trying to? Then, if that's not enough, you screw my wife! The mother of my kids!"

"It's not like that!" Asher insists. I close my eyes. I don't care about his side of the story. I really don't. He crossed a line. Even if Mellie instigated the affair, he was my best friend. He participated it. That's enough to make him a bad person. "I love her, Fitz. I know that sounds crazy and insane b-but it's true! I wouldn't have slept with her just for kicks. You're my best friend, man. I know that this election may have gotten away of that, but I always felt that way, dude. So you know that when I say I love Mellie, it's true."

I shake my head. "No. That's not true, Ash, and it's not fair. I tell you everything. You're my best man. I told you about our marital problems, even though you could have used that against me in this election. I trusted you. I never thought you would tell. And you didn't...but you took advantage in a different way. What about Alice? What will she think?"

"She already knows." Asher is dangerously close to crying right about now. "Alice and I...man, you know what it's like in a political marriage. There's no love, no passion -"

"That's where you're wrong," I snap coldly. "I love Mellie. I do. Maybe not romantically, or compassionately, but she's my wife. And she's the mother of my kids. So I do love her. Not in the stupid, amateur way you think you do."

"Did you she tell you all of it?" Asher wipes a tear that dribbles down his cheeks and onto his jawline. "Did she tell you how many times? How often? And for how long? Do you know things we said to each other? We claimed our loved...a long time ago, Fitz. It wasn't just one time. I'm sorry you're hurt but this has nothing to do with the election. I love Melinda. And...she loves me, Fitz. She really does."

I open my eyes. I realize that I don't care. I don't care about them. Maybe I did, but honestly, this was a dead marriage. So why does any of this even matter?

"Whatever," I shake my head. "You just keep thinking that, Ash. You ain't shit. And you'll see that when you lose the election come November."

X

But I guess that was naive thinking. I didn't think I had to try - I was a better candidate than Asher and everyone (including Ash) knew that.

And now here is is, standing on the steps of a courthouse on a sunny summer morning with his ignorant trophy wife by his arms.

"Governor!" a reporter shoves a mic further up his face. Governor? They're already calling him that? "Do you care to comment on the case of the Candidate Killer?"

Asher presses his lips together. "All I can do is express my condolences towards Mrs. Melinda Grant...her son went too soon. God just needed another angel. Rest in peace, Gerry."

"Sir!" another reporter rushes in. "If you could say anything to Mr. Grant, what would it be?"

"I...just," Asher shakes his head. "I don't understand how he could hurt his wife. His children. His family. I have known Fitzgerald for practically both of our adult lives. I...I called the man my friend. And it's a shame to think that you never know the sickening intentions of people closest to you..."

I swallow bitterly. How could he? He knows very well I didn't try to kill my family! But I get why he wouldn't be so enthusiastic as to clear my name.

I flick off the TV and slam the remote down so hard that the guards look over to me. I can't believe or stand any of this. They're treating me as though I'm already proven guilty. They all are.

It just hurts - it hurts so much. Sometimes it hurts so much, I just wanna curl up in my cell and die. If some guys came in here with knives, I wouldn't yell or scream or even try to defend myself. I wouldn't resist. I hate feeling this way. I want to fight - fight for my right to be with my daughter one day and maybe, just maybe, Olivia.

Livvy and Karen? They're everything, all I have at this point. But are they worth fighting for? When life is this rough, this bad...

Hell, I haven't even heard from Olivia ever since last night. And I don't know whether she's coming back. Maybe it's just me being insecure like always, but something told me that she may not come back for a while. And I wouldn't blame her, especially not after all the shit this case has put her through.

That I put her through.

I have been through hardships before - growing up with a shit family and always having to live up to my father's expectations. Then, Mellie came along and I thought that my marriage was the worst thing I would ever have to go through. It's funny to think about that now.

I know I'm innocent, but this whole case and put me up against a life I'm not sure I would want to live, even if I was acquitted.