Enraptured by the screen, as Paul Henreid once again lights up two cigarettes in his mouth, an act of love and tenderness, Olivia's phone rings.

Running her hands under the blankets looking for it, it takes a few seconds, but she finds it.

A life-changing, impossible love. A little too relatable.

"What?" her eyes never leaving the television.

"Hi."

The entire world stops for a moment.

She had dreamt about this so often. Now that it's finally happening, the sound of his voice paralyzes every muscle on her body.

"Liv, it's me," Fitz leans back against the balcony's wooden railing. The reticence and the silence on the other end were expected, so he takes in the chilly night air, waiting for her.

Olivia's breath grows short and it takes a moment for her to muster a reply.

"Hi."

"Can you talk? I know it's late."

"It's fine. Hold on a second," Olivia pauses the movie, using the time to compose herself once more, given the unexpected turn of the night. "I'm here."

"How are you?" Fitz asks.

'How are you?" Olivia mimics his tone. "Really?" a mix of amusement and disbelief.

"Sorry. I didn't plan this," Fitz chuckles.

"I see."

"I watched your interview," the lack of hostility from her helps him relax.

Olivia sighs. The possibility should've crossed her mind, him watching it, especially now that he isn't that busy anymore. There's no way he could watch her talk about him and not reach out.

"Ok," her reply is measured and careful, "is this why you called?"

"Did you mean what you said? About time drifting people apart?" Fitz tightens his grip on the phone.

"I mean– Can you blame me? I haven't heard from you in eight years."

"I know. I guess in my mind you're never too far away, so I never saw it that way," Fitz bites his lip. "I missed you," his voice is low but sure.

"Fitz, what's this about?"

"I don't know. I wanted you to know that I'm always missing you. I always kept up with you, whatever you were doing…You were always with me. Not speaking, not being together never changed that."

Olivia grows exasperated. He always did have a way with words.

"You could've called."

"Could I? I had the feeling you were avoiding me."

Olivia is silent. She can't deny skipping each event she knew he would attend, or how when she had to visit the White House she made a conscious effort to stay as far away as possible from the Oval.

"I might've been," she admits.

Fitz smiles. Back then, there were times that the only thing holding him back from reaching out was knowing how hard she was working at avoiding him.

Gathering her thoughts, Olivia continues.

"The distance made it easier. I always followed your schedule, though," she smiles at the memory. "I had Cyrus giving me constant updates on how you were."

Fiz chuckles, understanding the feeling a little too well.

"I had to stop those. I think he started getting suspicious."

"You never told him?" Olivia asks, reaching for the glass of wine on her side table.

"No, I didn't think you'd appreciate it. Back then most of your clients worked for the White House or were associated with it. You know Cyrus. I love him, but he might've used it against you."

"Without thinking twice about it."

They both smile at that.

"It was good though, while it lasted. Knowing how you were made doing the job easier," Fitz says.

Olivia nods, taking in how they've both tried to keep track of each other over the years.

"I didn't mean everything I said today," she exhales. "I know why I quit and the reason I tried to stay away from politics. Leaving was better. But I– I missed you too."

Out of the possible outcomes of this phone call, Fitz most certainly didn't expect this level of openness from her. With no time to mull it over, the words come out before he can think any better of it.

"We should go out," they've barely talked and here he is, already risking scaring her off.

"Aren't you in California?" Olivia asks.

"Yes, but the kids aren't here anymore. I can be in DC by the end of the day tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Really?"

"Did you think I'd say no?"

"Not really," he grins, "thought it would take some convincing or a little more time though."

Olivia rolls her eyes. "But I can't tomorrow. I told Abby I'd have dinner with her."

"Drinks the next day?"

"Lighthouse?"

"I haven't been there in ages. So I'll see you the day after tomorrow?" Fitz asks, not attempting to hide the giddiness in his voice.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Longing to say more, Fitz makes the effort to let her go. He'll see her soon. There's no need to prolong his stay.

"This was good. Listening to your voice again," with a bittersweet smile he bids his farewell. "Goodnight, Liv."

"Goodnight," Olivia hangs up the phone, still clutching it tightly.

Sitting in stillness for a moment, Olivia is unable to bring her eyes to move away from the object, so she lets her gaze linger.

He called her. He misses her.

In most of the scenarios she had created in her mind throughout the years, seeing or speaking to him again involved some sort of argument or confrontation. Feelings of resentment and loneliness were often present, as were anger and sorrow. At times, it was about yelling or sex, while during more melancholic moods, the conversations had a lot of tears on both parts, talks of regret, and wanting to try again.

None of her options included the warmth that spread through her when she heard his voice tonight. It'd been so long since she'd heard him speak anything that wasn't directed to a room of reporters. It was always President Grant.

Today she finally had Fitz again.

All those fantasies of asking why he never reached out to her after the divorce. Right now, it all slips to the back of Olivia's mind.

She'll be in the same room as him for the first time in years soon.

Relief washes over her.

Reaching for the remote, Olivia goes back to her movie. All the tension from the day is gone, as contentment fills her heart.

Fitz closes the glass door and goes to the kitchen for some scotch.

Pouring himself a drink, he beams. That went much better than he expected.

He knew calling her immediately after he finished watching the interview wasn't a good idea. If Olivia was going straight home afterward, it still would be a while before she could talk, so he waited.

The scotch burns his throat.

There was always the option that she wouldn't pick up or that she wouldn't want to speak to him. Nevertheless, it was worth a shot.

Now he's going to DC.

After years of trying to get out of that city, he could never have predicted how eager he would be to go back in such a short time after making his escape.

She wants to see him again.

That's enough to add a spring to his step.

Olivia walks into the restaurant, taking in her surroundings.

"Hi. Reservation for two. Abby Whelan."

"Good evening. Ms. Whelan is already seated. Follow me."

The place is spacious, brightly lit, and filled with flowers. Even though it's still Happy Hour, it isn't too crowded, most people are at the bar, while the restaurant is calmer.

"Thank you," Olivia can already see Abby's red hair near a window as they make their way through the bar.

An extra secluded corner. She lets out a sigh of relief.

"Sorry, I'm late," Olivia says, setting her purse on one of the chairs. "Fitz called me last night."

Abby chuckles and takes a sip of wine.

Olivia raises her eyebrows. "Really?"

"I'm sorry. Were you actually surprised?" an incredulous look on her face.

"Why?" Olivia asks.

"Liv, the way you talked about him in that interview. To anyone else, it might've looked like nothing at all, but I know you, and your reaction was obvious to me. It's not surprising he saw it too," Abby shrugs. "Can't say I blame him for calling."

"I barely mentioned him."

"Yeah, but you did that thing with your eyes, you always do whenever you're thinking about him. I'm honestly surprised he hasn't called you before."

"What thing?"

"You know the sad eyes and the staring off slightly into the distance lost in thought," Abby says, moving her hands dismissively. "What did you talk about?"

Olivia makes a mental note to control her expressions better.

"Not much. Mostly about missing each other and how we tried to keep tabs on what the other was doing for all this time," she crosses her arms. "He did ask to see me. He's flying in from California, and we're having drinks tomorrow."

"So… you have a date."

"I don't know. I'm not sure what it's going to be like or what he's expecting. I'm not sure I even know him anymore, but I want to see him."

"How long has it been since you've seen him anyway?"

Olivia frowns. "Eight years ago, at Cyrus's wedding."

"That really was such a long time ago, Liv," Abby tilts her head looking at her friend. "It's good to see you like this again. You never give anyone a chance."

"I got engaged in this meantime," Olivia glares.

"Yeah, but you never truly considered marrying Edison."

"Abby…."

"I'm not judging. I know you. I'm just happy you're doing this. You've been running away from any possible meaningful connection you could have for a while now. Whatever happens, you still love him and it seems like a good idea."

"Thank you."

"And keep me updated. You're not even that busy anymore and the only time we talk is when someone is in trouble or needs help."

"It's not my fault you decided to abandon me."

Abby clenches her jaw.

"Oh, don't start. I already have to deal with David driving me insane about my new hours."

Leaning back on her chair, Olivia gets comfortable and listens to her friend.

Olivia wakes up feeling the brightness of the day on her face. Thursdays weren't usually any harder than the rest of the week, but considering the time she got home from her dinner with Abby last night, she told Harrison she wasn't coming in today.

Had this happened a couple of years ago, nothing could've stopped her from going to the office, no matter how early. These days, however, she wasn't needed there a lot of the time. A client might call due to an emergency, but there was no need for her to sit behind a desk all day long, waiting for something that might come up.

Business was good and stable. There was no need to work like she was running anymore.

When her father passed away a couple of years ago, she was finally able to reexamine herself and what she was doing with her life. An overachiever to her detriment.

Since then, Olivia has been slowly changing the pace of her life. For such a long time each choice she made had felt monumental, as if one mistake would ruin everything, somehow allowing the past to catch up to her.

She wasn't living, only running.

It started with small choices. Not staying up late at the office if there was no need for it. Taking up running, trying to eat real food, and seriously dating for the first time since she left the White House. Considering each of her attempts up until that point was with the sole focus of easing her thoughts about him, the time had come to actually try. That only became more obvious when the news of the divorce came out a short time after, and he didn't call.

Yet, she still couldn't bring herself to give an actual chance to any of those men. Not even Edison, although she cannot say she didn't make an effort. She had even agreed to marry him before realizing what she was doing. Settling for less, a life she didn't want.

It's taken a while and she hasn't completely succeeded at it, but taking care of herself has stopped feeling burdensome. Now she can decide to rest and take a day off without feeling guilty or being afraid to be alone with her thoughts.

For today the tasks are simple: breakfast, checking her emails, running, showering, lunch, doing her hair, then meeting Fitz.

Despite how ready she was to deal with the growing anxiety of finally seeing him again, his text saying he was already in town had only caused a sense of calm.

This is happening.

Olivia has never known Fitz outside of politics. Governor then president.

Sometimes, thinking back to their relationship Olivia isn't sure she made the right choice. Maybe the shame of being the other woman would've been worth it if she could have had him, even if they never would've been able to have anything resembling normalcy.

Other times, she wishes they would have maintained some kind of contact or friendship, but that never lasts long. Too aware of what being near him meant to her back then.

The years went by so fast.

Now the only thing she can do is hope he hasn't changed too much.