The characters aren't mine.
Thank you to everyone for the phenomenal feedback on the first part. I wasn't planning on continuing with the story - but what the heck, might as well give it a shot!
Annie - Good to see you again!! It's always nice to see people pop back up again, in a place where you least expect them.
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It was customarily late by the time I arrived home. The kids had, hopefully, long ago gotten into bed and were sound asleep. Since Kathy's death, a nanny had been there for them when they got home from school and she was there to see them off to bed.
As I hung my jacket up, she shuffled past me and out the door. "See you tomorrow Detective." she said, leaving me in a cloud of heavy perfume.
I watched her go, high heels clicking on the cement stoop, wondering if she had applied her perfume with a firehose. Perhaps a new nanny was in order - one who lived-in and didn't party like it was the end of the world each night.
Despite the fatigue I had felt earlier in the day, I was too awake now to even consider bed. The coffee break with Olivia had helped immensely, even if it had left me feeling uneasy.
Papers were strewn about on the coffee table, a few having fluttered off and landed on the floor. I bent over to tidy them up, pausing to read the scribbles as I did so. Notes on the industrial revolution and carefully traced triangles, with points labelled a, b and c.
I supposed that I should take comfort that there were no jagged letters, proclaiming for all the world to see - I HATE MY DAD! Would I have done that had I been in their place? I probably would have drawn a terrible caricature and slashed it with knives.
I sat down on the couch and began to sort the papers into piles. One pile for one child, one pile for another. I let my mind wander as the paper found their way into the proper pile. Was Olivia at home, performing a menial activity to try and pass the time? Why did I care where Olivia was and what she was doing?
I eventually ran out of papers, though in the end, I'm fairly certain that each pile amounted to at least three trees. My eyes were feeling heavy and leaning back into the couch and closing them was starting to sound very appealing.
As I drifted off, the dim sound of knocking floated into my sleep deprived brain. I stumbled toward the door, thinking that the only person crazy enough to be showing up at my door in the middle of the night was, "Olivia." I said, after I'd opened the door.
She pushed her bangs back from her face and then stuffed both hands into her jacket pockets. "Hi." she said and looked me over uncertainly. "Did I wake you?"
I stepped aside and ushered her in. "No. I was just resting my eyes."
She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners ever so slightly. Her boots made a dull thud on the floor as she stepped inside. I watched, fascinated by the movement of her fingers as she nimbly unzipped them and slipped them off.
Her toes wiggled inside of her socks and she gave me an almost apologetic grin. "I hope my feet don't smell too bad." she said. Her fingers then set about unbuttoning her jacket and slipping if off her body.
"I don't smell anything."
"Good." She smiled and hung her jacket up in the closet. Up beside a small purple jacket. Right where Kathy used to hang hers.
"Not that I mind the company or anything, but what brings you over here?" I asked, curious as to why I was on the receiving end of an uncharacteristic visit from Olivia.
She flashed me a look with her dark eyes and pushed her bangs back again. "You said whenever I was ready."
My heart did a funny jump, as though it were attempting to vacate my body before things got really weird. In truth - I hadn't expected her to be ready so soon. "Do you want something to drink?"
Olivia shook her head. "No, I think I just want to talk." She shuffled across the floor and settled herself down on the couch. Her body resting where mine had been not five minutes before. "Enough papers?"
Her gaze had settled on the mountainous piles of school papers. "They're for a project." I replied and settled myself down beside Olivia. Truthfully, I had no idea whether they were for a project or not.
"Oh." she said and leaned forward. "Industrial revolution. Nice." I shrugged. My nanny knew more about my kids than I did - she'd know whether they were for a project or not.
"Liv..."
Olivia dropped the papers and leaned her back against the cushions. "I know, I didn't come over here to discuss how the industrial revolution changed Europe."
She closed her eyes and for a moment, I was afraid that she had dozed off. Being faced with a sleeping Olivia on my couch was not a prospect that I cared to contemplate at the moment.
"I don't know what to do." she said, not opening her eyes.
Hesitating again. She was hesitating again and deep down inside, part of me was relieved. "About what?" I asked, prodding her. Wanting to hear her say the words.
"About us. About this." She opened her eyes and waved a hand around. Pale flesh, cutting through the air - nearly hitting me.
I looked at her, mentally tracing the lines of her face, the curve of her lips, the slope of her nose. "No one said it would be easy." I said softly.
Her gaze flickered over my face before she turned her head slightly and stared into the distance. I followed her eyes and found that she was looking at a photo. "Would be easier if she were still here." Olivia murmured.
"Kathy?"
She nodded, her hair falling into her face again. She chose not to brush it away this time, letting it sit there, half blocking her vision. "Did you love her? I mean, really love her?"
Olivia's question shocked me. It wasn't like her to be so direct - our method of conversation was usually indirect and vague. "She was the mother of my children. Of course I loved her." But you didn't love her enough, a part of my mind screamed at me.
Olivia accepted my answer with silent contemplation. I could almost hear the gears in her mind turning over, processing my answer and relating it to our current situation.
"Huh." she said finally. Just a small sound that could have meant a multitude of different things. Huh - you loved your wife and yet you let her die. Huh - you loved your wife but you love me more. Huh - I really have no idea what to say next.
Soft footsteps sounded upstairs and I saw Olivia tense at the sound. It was clear that she wasn't prepared to have one of the kids find her here, talking on the couch with Daddy in the middle of the night. "They don't usually come down." I said and she visibly relaxed. A few moments later, the toilet flushed and the footsteps retreated back to bed.
"I shouldn't have come here." Olivia said suddenly and stood up. "I should go. I'll see you tomorrow."
She hurried over to the door, grabbing her jacket from the closet. I followed her a moment later, putting myself between her and the door. She put her jacket on and looked at me, willing me with her eyes to move.
"Liv. Don't go."
She shook her head, her fingers buttoning up her jacket. They were trembling now. I reached out and grabbed her hand - feeling elated by the physical contact.
She tried to pull away but her movements stopped as I stroked her wrist. Her eyes sent me a silent warning - Don't do something you know we'll both regret Elliot.
Ignoring her warning, I pulled her towards me. My hand dropped hers and I put both hands on her shoulders. I could feel her warm breath on my throat - uneven, nervous.
One hand moved and found itself on her face, tracing the curves. She looked up at me and her eyes sent me another message - now or never Elliot.