Hello, friends. This is just a warning that this chapter does contain content related to anxiety and its severe symptoms. Read on, if you feel comfortable to.
"Oh my god…I can't believe I just did that," Olivia said, looking in awe at her computer screen. "I really just did that."
"Did you submit it?" Fitz asked, from the kitchen area of the basement.
She turned toward him, closing her computer screen and nodding happily. "It's submitted."
He gasped, putting his things down on the bar top and making his way over to her with his arms open wide.
She smiled back and jumped into those big open arms of his, and he spun her around in a happy hug.
"I'm so proud of you, baby," he murmured into her shoulder.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed. "But…remember, I just submitted the application. I haven't...gotten in," she laughed.
"Yet," he said. "You will. You got a 33 on your ACT, a 1470 on your SAT and you go to UNIS for Christ's sake."
She smiled. "That is…that is all true."
"Mhm. So...when you do get in, I'm going to be the first one to say, first of all, congratulations. And second of all...I told you," he replied.
"Well—I look forward to that moment," she smirked, pressing her lips to his.
"Me too," he whispered, his eyes flickering between her lips and her eyes. The light of that beautiful necklace around her neck caught his eye, too. She wore it every day, just as she'd said she would.
Her body was so tightly pressed to hers right now, as he held her in this arms. That may need to stop here pretty quickly, though.
"Do you, uh…do you want to go let your mom know?" he asked.
"Yeah," she smiled.
"Okay." He pecked her cheek and set her down, watching her grab her laptop and pull out her phone as she headed to her room.
He was a little bit thankful, simply because now he could adjust himself through his pants and go hide behind the bar for a minute—literally.
He had never quite reacted to a woman this way.
He wanted to believe he didn't know why. But he knew. It wasn't just the fact that she was beautiful, and had a nice body. He had barely so much as seen her in her underwear. For all he knew, she could be wearing a fucking parka, and he'd still be hard.
Because it was so much more than a physical thing. He hadn't felt it before—it was completely new to him. But he knew what it was. He knew why she affected him in every way.
And it scared the hell out of him.
It was a big change. And things only continue to change every day—his feelings only heightened and it felt like things kept furthering.
And no matter what he felt for Olivia, big changes scared him. He would have liked to say he knew what he was getting into before they became involved, and in a way, he had known.
But there were also things he could not have known beforehand. He didn't quite know just how much his feelings were going to make him go crazy inside.
Those feelings were new, so he couldn't understand those before.
He couldn't understand how real it was going to feel, now that he was immersed in this with her.
It only got more real by the day, and that was scary. In the situation he was in—already married with a child, having a real relationship with someone else, was frightening. And it made him even more nervous, because while he thought he would know what to do by now, he still didn't. And he felt like he was responsible. He was older, and he was the one who was married. He was supposed to know what the hell he was doing, and he didn't know how to tell her that he still didn't.
As things had progressed, the only thing he knew was that it was only getting harder—not easier, to navigate.
He had poured himself a Diet Coke over ice tonight since he was with her, and didn't want to drink. It was the weekend and that's when he tended to want to, but he didn't think it would be appropriate to drink in front of her.
Not only because she couldn't drink, herself. But because he was kind of afraid of what he would say in front of her, if he was buzzed enough.
There were things he wasn't quite ready to say yet.
So Diet Coke it was. He liked Diet Coke. It was sort of one of his "cheat" beverages, because he knew soda was awful for his body. But Diet Coke was addicting.
She came out of her bedroom not too long after, smiling and setting her phone down on the couch.
And thankfully, since his dick had now calmed its annoying self down, he was happy she had returned to save him from his thoughts. Most of the time, his more negative thoughts occurred when she wasn't around.
"Hey you," he greeted. "Did you call her?"
"Yeah," Olivia nodded. "She was at the restaurant, so I couldn't keep her too long. But she was pretty gushy. You know how moms are."
"I do," he smiled. "You deserve it. We should…we should celebrate."
"We should celebrate me applying early action to college?" she laughed.
"Absolutely," he nodded. "This is an important day. It will have to be a day—no—a weekend that will go down in your personal history books. The weekend of November 15th."
"The weekend of November 15th," she laughed in agreement. "I guess…it certainly has started off with a bang!"
"Mhm," he nodded. "So? Should I…bake a cake? Brew a…celebratory pot of coffee? Sauté some shrimp? How should we celebrate?"
She was in a fit of laughter, walking over to him. "Well, thanks to your marvelous dinner about an hour ago, I think I'm all good on the food and beverage front. But I do appreciate your offer, smiley."
"Fair. So?" he asked. "What should we do? Your pick, Liv."
And there were oh so many options to pick from, given that this wasn't just any normal weekend.
They were completely, and utterly alone.
Well, aside from little Hank upstairs right now.
But Mellie and Karen had ventured off this afternoon, right after Karen got done with school, to go to Mellie's aunt Helen's house in Garden City with the rest of the girls. Girls weekend number two so far of this fall.
Karen had been looking forward to it all week, and Olivia knew Mellie had to have been, too. So she really did hope they had a good time.
But given that they wouldn't be back until Sunday afternoon, it left her wondering how this weekend would go. She had a feeling it was going to test them. It had the potential to go a lot of ways.
Tomorrow, Fitz did have a day trip to his mother's house planned, since he'd promised her. But aside from that, they'd be all alone here at the house.
So to continue to start the weekend off right, she thought she'd suggest something they both enjoyed thoroughly. "Game of Thrones."
Fitz was all for that idea. They were flying through the series pretty quickly. They were already in the fifth season, and she figured they would be done soon at the rate they'd been going at.
It was such a good show.
So they turned out the lights and turned the volume up loud, watching their favorite show in their favorite spot. They watched for hours, cuddling on the couch.
Only this time, their cuddling didn't have to be as subtle.
Neither Karen nor Mellie ever really utilized the basement much, anyway. But they were still normally careful about how close they were when they watched TV shows downstairs, because whenever they watched something, it was during a time when both Karen and Mellie were upstairs and awake.
Their workouts in the mornings were a little different, because those always occurred when both were dead asleep upstairs. Not that that made it any better or any less wrong—it didn't at all. But they never feared someone walking in on them.
Tonight, though, they didn't have to worry about any of that.
So she was laying directly next to him, with her arms wrapped around him and her head on his chest. His right arm was wrapped around her petite body, pulling her close to him, too.
They watched three full episodes before they decided to call it quits. If they didn't stop, they'd be up watching season six at three in the morning, or something. It was quite addicting.
So Fitz turned off the TV, which surrounded them in darkness. Aside from the bar light on over in the kitchen area, which didn't have an impact on where they were sitting, it was pitch dark, and silent.
"Whoops," he chuckled. "I didn't anticipate it being that dark."
"Yeah, that was aggressive," she laughed, looking around as best she could in the dark room. She couldn't see much, not while her eyes hadn't adjusted yet.
But she was right up next to him, so she could see his cute face, looking down at her.
"Hi," she whispered.
"Hi," he whispered back.
She leaned forward and kissed his nose, because it always made him smile big. And she loved that smile.
Then she couldn't help but move to kiss his lips, too. They were so fun to kiss.
And so, a nose kiss turned to a few pecks on the lips. Which then turned to a makeout session. All in the dark living room of the basement.
And without even thinking about it, she inched onto his lap. She was in such an easy position to do it, so it made it effortless.
His hands instinctively went to her hips, holding her while she sat on top of his thighs.
She felt his tongue slip into her mouth, which made her moan quietly in pleasure. His hands held tight to her body, his arms wrapped fully around her in the most protective, affectionate way.
Not wandering, not yet. Respecting her—but holding her close. Telling her without words that he wanted to be doing what they were doing.
They made out hard, hearing nothing but the sound of their lips connecting, and their breaths in between.
And no matter what her brain was telling her—she wanted it to keep going. She wanted it to escalate further. She could feel the heartbeat in her clit—the desperation in her body to keep going.
And she knew that she was not alone, as she felt him beneath her.
At first, she hadn't been able to feel, as she'd been sitting too far back on his thighs. But she'd moved up as they'd gotten closer and their makeout session had grown deeper, and now she could feel...everything.
Wow, he was hard.
She disconnected their lips, feeling hers wet from his mouth as she pulled back to look at him. She smirked, looking down at their laps
His face grew pink—she could see it even in the dark, that he was blushing. He smiled cutely at her, and looked away from her gaze shyly.
All she could do was smile back, watching his usual Fitz self get nervous.
She couldn't help it. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, and wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug for a moment. Not only was he kissable—he was huggable, too. Especially when there was a bulge in his shorts that she wanted to feel beneath her.
She could feel his heartbeat against her chest during their hug. She could hear his breaths, quick and deep, in her ear. And she swore, she could feel the same thing that she constantly felt, radiating off of him, too. She knew she could.
She wasn't quite sure she could grasp it; it was new, and a bit overwhelming in general. So when their difficult situation was added on top of it, it made it even more overwhelming. But she knew what was happening between them. What had already happened.
And she knew that it wasn't going away.
Much like what she felt beneath her right now.
His hands lingered on her lower back, playing with the idea of sliding down further but never fully committing. She gave him a little encouragement, in case he wondered whether or not he should actually let himself do it.
"It's okay," she whispered, moving her lips to his neck. "It's okay, Fitz. You can touch me."
His breathing picked up, feeling her mouth on his skin. His hands slowly moved, but not all the way. He eased his way into it.
There was always a little bit of hesitation, at least from one of them, and at least at first, which he was showing now.
And she understood that. Because almost nothing they did was "right." Based on what everyone else would think, they were always making the absolute wrong decisions—both of them. But somehow, those wrong decisions felt good, and they felt…right.
Which was a confusing mixture of feelings to have. No matter what age, no matter what someone had going on in their life, she was sure it was the most confusing thing anyone could ever feel. So she definitely understood the hesitation.
But despite that, he inched his hands all the way down, and lightly squeezed her ass with both hands.
She let out a breath against his lips, opening her eyes to make eye contact with him.
She wondered if what she wanted to do would be okay, or if it would be too far. But she went for it anyway, because the opportunity was right in front of her. Or more accurately, right beneath her.
Using his grip of her ass to guide her, she rolled her hips against him. It wasn't too bold—she'd done it subtly. But regardless, it made him twitch beneath her. So she did it again.
She hard an audible exhale, and got up the courage to actually look at his face again.
His eyes were closed, and he looked more relaxed than she'd ever seen him. That, in itself, was motivation to keep going. That, and how hard he was beneath her.
It was wrong, but it made her feel so good. Not just because it was contact, and she could now feel his hardened length against her. But because she enjoyed watching him react to something she was doing to him.
He couldn't look at her; it was as if his body said yes, but his mind said no. Which, was a pretty accurate description of how she normally felt too.
So she slowed her pace, pausing to look at him.
He was breathing quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. Looking comfortable, yet uncertain at the same time.
"Should I stop?" she whispered.
He finally opened his eyes and leaned his head forward against her shoulder. And then he shook his head in response.
So she didn't stop.
She ran her hand down his chest, and his abdomen. Keeping it down there, but not moving it for a while. Frankly, she was nervous about it herself, but she was also not sure if he would want her to. He was clearly nervous.
She didn't think it was so much the nervousness to physically go further. She was pretty sure it was just the circumstances, because this would definitely be the furthest they'd ever gone. And perhaps, the fact that his family was away on a trip hit his conscience harder.
Perhaps them being alone this weekend was actually going to make it worse for them, she didn't know.
But she kept her hand there, and started to move it lower. His dick was begging her to, and truly, her body was too.
"Do you want me to?" she asked, slowly running her hand over him through his shorts.
Well, she'd never done that before, and holy shit.
He let out a shaky breath, opening his eyes to look at her. She slowly touched him, but didn't go any further than touching him over his shorts. Not unless he wanted her to. She wanted him to feel just as respected as she felt by him.
"You just have to let me know, okay? I only want to make you feel good, that's all I want. I know...we take things slow—and I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable, or go too far for either of us," she whispered, kissing his neck. "Just tell me what you want, okay?"
She could see that he liked it. But she hadn't heard a word from him, and she wanted full consent if she was going to take this any further right now.
It had been ages since she'd touched a guy. And she was nervous, not just because it had been a while, but because it was Fitz. And everything about Fitz just felt...different.
But she wanted this. So if he did, she was going for it.
She paused, looking at him. Pulling her hand slightly away from him.
And that's when he spoke up desperately.
"Wait," he murmured, looking at her longingly. "No—wait. Please. Please...touch me, Olivia. Touch me."
She nodded and slowly moved her fingers to the waistband of his shorts, sliding under that and his underwear. She knew she'd probably sit and think about how awful of a person she was later. As always.
But right now, in this moment, this was all she wanted to do. To be intimate with him, and feel close to him. And this was by far the closest they'd ever been, because her hand was now wrapped around his dick.
The breath hitched in his throat the second she touched him. He looked down at her slowly feeling her way around.
"Oh—my God," he murmured, keeping his hands on her ass.
Feeling him bare for the first time was nothing short of amazing. As she began to stroke his length, she could feel how long and thick he was. She'd always wondered—how could she not.
It made her eyes widen as her hand moved up and down his shaft.
Oh wow.
She felt the liquid coming from his tip slowly, and she was on that right away. She leaned her forehead against his, watching him react to her spreading it around his tip gently. He licked his lips and let out a pleasured moan.
She was pretty sure his extreme New York accent was the sexiest thing she'd ever heard, but the moan he just let out, looking her dead in the eyes, was making her think twice now.
That definitely made the light throbbing in her clit intensify, feeling his dick in her hand, and hearing him moan.
"Feels...so good," he murmured, his voice deep and breathless.
She smiled, and she knew right away that he wasn't going to last very long, especially given the teasing that had been occurring before this. And although she didn't necessarily want to think about it, she couldn't help but wonder if he'd been truly touched like this in…ages. The way he reacted told her it had been forever.
His panting grew stronger, and his arms were wrapped around her as tightly as they could be while still giving her room to do what she was doing. Olivia's other hand was holding back the waistband of his shorts, preparing for him to finish.
He moaned, looking down at her hand in his shorts, her wrist moving up and down more quickly now. When he removed his hands from around her and grabbed the neck of his shirt to pull it quickly over his head, she knew he was definitely close.
But he tried to warn her, too.
"Olivia," he panted, putting his hands immediately back around her.
"Hmm?" she whispered, looking at him intently.
"I'm—" he began, clutching at her jeans. Squeezing her ass hard. "I'm close—I'm close."
"Good," she murmured, rubbing her thumb lightly over his tip.
The want and the desperation in his eyes. It made her even more determined to see him finish. She wanted him to feel good. She wanted to see him unravel.
His breathing started to become irregular, and in turn, she moved her wrist faster. He could barely take it, as he locked eyes with her. She focused mostly on his tip to get him there, which proved to make him pant and moan harder.
"Oh—fuck. Olivia—Liv," he pleaded.
She felt the sudden burst of warm liquid on her hand, as she stroked him through it. Not stopping until he was fully done.
She started to slow her pace, and he literally collapsed his head into her chest. Looking so relaxed now, and so exhausted.
She kept her hand where it was, kissing the side of his head affectionately.
"That just...happened," he whispered, tightening his grip around her.
"Yes. It did," she nodded. Her hand right now was more than enough proof of that.
She pulled back and looked at him, making eye contact before she leaned in for a kiss.
He kissed her back, leaning his forehead against hers after their slow kiss. She felt his breath lightly on her lips as he gradually slowed his breathing.
"Your hand," he whispered against her lips.
"Yeah, I know," she whispered back. "I'll be right back. I'll bring something."
"Okay," he whispered, leaning back against the couch.
He took over for her, holding the waistband of his shorts forward just to make sure those at least stayed cum-free. Otherwise, it was just on both of their skin, and that was manageable at least.
She figured a washcloth would be best, so she headed to the bathroom to wash her hands, and then wet a washcloth for him. When she came back, he gratefully accepted it from her.
"Thank you," he whispered, cleaning himself up.
"Of course," she nodded, sitting down next to him and snuggling in again.
It was dark, so she hadn't really been able to see down there, and she wasn't just going to downright stare at him while he did it, anyway. But she wished she could see, given that what she felt had been fantastic. Still, she forced herself to look away.
And now after his fast breathing had subsided, the basement returned to its previous silence, and the two of them just sat there, cuddling close for a few minutes.
"Don't get quiet on me now, smiley," she whispered into the dark.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I don't mean to be."
She could feel herself beginning to get nervous because of the silence, after doing something like that.
But then he broke the silence with something that made her laugh, like he always tended to do. Not even really trying to be funny, but he just was.
"And…and I'm holding a cum rag right now, which is making me feel a little awkward," he added.
She burst into laughter against his shoulder.
"You know, there are a lot of things that are hard for me to imagine you saying out loud, and 'cum rag' is definitely one of those things," she giggled.
"I don't know…what else to call it," he chuckled. "That's literally what it is, I…okay, yeah, I'm done now. It just needs to go, end of story."
She laughed, watching him get up from the couch.
"I'm gonna…um. I'm gonna go upstairs and rinse off, I think. Let Hank out, get ready for bed."
Yeah, the rinsing off was especially understandable.
"Okay," she nodded. "I think I'll do the same."
"If you wanted…I could come back down after?" he questioned. "Only if…you want."
Her face softened, looking up at him. "Come back down to stay?"
He nodded. "I did..say I'd take you up on that offer about…sleeping in your comfy bed with you."
"You did," she smiled. "Yes, please. Absolutely."
"Okay," he nodded. "I'll be back down in a bit."
She nodded back, watching him leave the basement.
She walked over and shut off the bar light, and then went to rinse off in the shower quickly, too, to start.
After Fitz let Hank out for the last time that night, he went upstairs and showered, changed his clothes, and brushed his teeth.
By the time he went back downstairs, he gently closed the basement door and pushed open Olivia's already slightly-open door.
She was currently in a robe, her twists all wrapped up, with her foot on her bed as she lathered her legs in lotion.
He had to focus on something else, other than the fact that she was completely naked under that robe. He made sure to stand by her dresser, and not go sit on the bed, because he knew if he were to sit there, he'd get an entire beautiful view of under her robe. Oh, how beautiful it would be. But he refrained.
"Hey," she greeted with a smile.
"Hey," he greeted back.
She grabbed what he assumed was a pair of pajamas on her bed, and smiled at him as she passed.
"Oh, I know. This is definitely the sexiest thing you've ever seen, right?" she asked, pointing to her head wrap. She knew it wasn't the cutest look—her long twists all wrapped up on the top of her head under a wrap. But she had to do what she had to do at night, to keep them looking good during the day!
"Um, yes, actually," he nodded as she passed him.
"Ohhh," she laughed, shaking her head. "You know what? Good answer, actually."
"It's the truth," he smiled, as she left the room.
She went to go change into a pair of shorts and a tank top. She never wore a bra underneath to bed, because obviously, she wanted to be comfortable. On the weekend mornings, she always put something more appropriate on before she went upstairs. So this would definitely be the most scandalous she'd ever dressed in front of him. But, she figured her hand had been covered in his cum earlier, so she thought she was just fine.
When she came back, he was stripping his shirt over his head, standing next to her bed in her now dark bedroom. The covers were all pulled back for her, and it made her smile.
"Aww, thank you," she said.
"Mhm," he nodded, watching her get into bed with a smile. She was so cute.
He got in after her, swinging his leg over her so he could hover above her.
"I like your pjs," he whispered.
She laughed. "I know, they're not anything fancy. But they're comfortable."
"They look…comfortable," he whispered, running his finger up her abdomen. He was gentle and he did it slow, but he allowed his thumbs to brush over her breasts. He could already tell she didn't have anything on underneath the tank top, he could feel her nipples beneath his thumbs.
And when he began to see them through the fabric, he had to hope and pray his dick didn't give him away. As usual.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, watching him touch her. He wasn't going to do anything other than what he was doing now, but touching her over her tank top was very enjoyable for both of them.
He leaned down and gave her a kiss, smiling against her lips.
"You tired?" he whispered.
"Yeah," she nodded. "You?"
He nodded back, and gave her another kiss, before settling down next to her. He pulled her close from behind, wrapping his arms around her and resting his hand on her abdomen.
"Goodnight, Liv."
"Goodnight, Fitz," she whispered.
But before they were able to fall asleep, they both drifted off into their own little worlds. Thinking about tonight. Thinking about everything.
Times like this, when they were left alone to their thoughts, was when things really got to them.
In the moment, things were always different. Like tonight, on the couch. In the moment, feelings were always heightened. It was harder to say no to those feelings when faced with an opportunity to be intimate.
Touching him like that—taking that kind of step. It made her feel close to him. And that's all she wanted.
She was in love with him. Plain and simple. And ultimately, that had become her weakness in those moments.
But after the fact was always when it hit harder. When how wrong it was began to hang over both of their heads. The afterthoughts were hard.
But nothing about it all ever got easier.
But this was another moment now. Falling asleep together was its own moment, and would produce its own set of feelings. Right now, that's all they could at least try to do, was enjoy it.
Olivia was the first one to wake up. She immediately noticed his strong arm wasn't around her anymore, but she could feel him directly next to her. So she slowly turned in bed, being careful not to disturb his slumber.
He was facing her, on his side, and still completely out. His hand was resting on the sheets next to her. He looked so peaceful, and so handsome.
He was so muscular. His pecs. His abs. All of it, so perfect and right there for her to admire. She was thankful he'd slept with his shirt off.
She put her hand on top of his much larger one, and rubbed it gently, watching him intently.
She was kind of tempted to express her feelings for him out loud, because he was asleep, and she'd never said it aloud before.
But she didn't. She wasn't even brave enough to do that.
So she just laid there and waited for him to wake up, which didn't take all that long.
He still slept in, though, at least compared to when they both normally woke up.
His body started to shift, and he opened his eyes slowly. A small smile began to spread across his face.
"Hi, baby," he whispered.
"Hi," she whispered back.
"How'd you sleep?" he asked.
"Good," she nodded with a smile. "You?"
"Really good, actually. What…time is it?"
"7:30," she answered, rubbing his arm.
"Mmm," he groaned, scooting closer to her. "I should…go let Hank out."
"I can go do it if you want," she offered.
"That's alright," he shook his head. "I gotta…go get ready to head to my mom's anyway."
"That's right," she nodded. "How long will you be gone?"
"Well," he sighed. "At least through lunch, because…she said she was making something. Maybe mid-afternoon or so."
"Okay," Olivia nodded. "She probably feels so lucky, getting to see you today and in two weeks again for Thanksgiving!"
"Mhm," he chuckled. "Yeah, it'll be great to see her today. I don't get to her house enough, we're both always pretty busy."
"Well, I know you'll have a great time," she smiled, leaning in for a kiss. "She sounds amazing, by the way."
He smiled and kissed her back, studying her pretty face.
"Maybe…" he began. But then he really thought about what he was going to suggest. "Ah, never mind. I don't…nevermind."
"Fitzgerald, you know I'm not gonna let that slide," she laughed. "What?"
He sighed, shaking his head. "I just had…an idea. But it's…I don't know. I don't know why I thought about it."
"Last time you had an idea, we ended up on a fantastic all-day date in the city. So hit me again!" she laughed.
He chuckled at himself. "Um. Well, I was just thinking…maybe you could come with? But then I realized that was…probably weird, and it would freak you out, maybe, and…and now I'm freaking myself out—"
"Wait…are you serious?" she interrupted.
"Uh…well, I mean, yeah. I was…serious. But I'm sorry. You do not have to come with, we may be there a while and…and I don't know, maybe it's too much. Maybe it's…weird."
"I don't think so! I've wanted to meet your mom for forever!" she exclaimed.
"Really?" he asked.
"Really," she nodded. "If you want me to, I will absolutely come with you. And if not, that's okay too. I'm honored you asked me to."
He nodded. He couldn't really back out now, that would be…rude. But he also kind of thought it would be fun. Maybe?
Who knows what he'd just gotten himself into.
"Okay," he nodded. "Yeah. You should…yeah. You should come with me."
"Okay," she smiled. "Count me in."
But they didn't have that much time until they had to go, so they pretty much had to get up right away so they could get ready.
Fitz went upstairs to get ready, and Olivia stayed downstairs. She spent almost all her available time doing her makeup even fancier than she normally did it.
There was something so exciting about the thought of meeting Fitz's mom, the woman who had raised him. But as she got ready, she began to feel the nerves kick in, too. This was a bigger deal than both had admitted, and she understood why Fitz had had second thoughts about it.
But she was still happy about it. So she put on a pretty blouse, and dark jeans, grabbing a fancy pair of boots to go with. She, of course, put on her Swarovski necklace, too, as she did every day.
She did her edges, and made sure her twists were how she wanted them. And as she looked herself over in the mirror before she left her room, she had to admit. She looked damn good. Her outfit, her hair, her makeup.
Yep. She was satisfied.
So she grabbed her purse and headed upstairs, only to meet Fitz right there in the kitchen.
He was currently giving Hank a treat, all dressed up in khakis and a dress shirt, too.
He looked sexy, but he was much more focused on her.
"You look fantastic," he said, looking her over.
"Thank you!" she exclaimed. "So do you."
"Thanks," he smiled. "You…ready to go?"
"Ready."
So they got in the car, preparing for the decent drive they had ahead of them. Fitz told her that it was about an hour and a half away.
They chatted on the way there, and she could tell Fitz was a little nervous about it too. She hoped he hadn't regretted asking her to come. But he still held her hand and rested it on her thigh the whole way there.
She knew when they got close. The Hamptons weren't exactly…subtle.
Toward the beginning, there had been more "normal" sized houses, at least normal to her. But as they continued on in what she assumed was his neighborhood in Westhampton Beach, the houses grew gradually bigger.
And not only that, but the space between each house grew bigger, too. The yards were more vast, and the houses were more spread out. She had to hold in a gasp when he pulled into the driveway of the mansion before her.
There was a gate, just like his house in Rye, which was already open. The driveway was brick, and extremely long.
And the house was probably even a tad bigger than his Rye house, she guessed. It was absolutely beautiful.
And poor Jean lived in this mansion all alone? No wonder she loved "day trips" from her son so much!
"Wow. This is beautiful, Fitz," she whispered. She couldn't believe he had grown up in a place like this. Good God.
"Thank you," he smiled, pulling up right next to the house at the top of the brick driveway.
"You told her I was coming, right?" she asked.
"I did. But you may have to explain…you know, UNIS and everything. I don't think she quite understands…the program and everything that you're doing here," he chuckled.
"That's alright," she laughed. "I usually do have to, it's kind of a unique program. So I'm happy to explain!"
"But just beware…she's a talker," he chuckled.
"Perfect! So am I, so I think it'll work out well," she replied with a smile.
He smiled back. "Alright. Ready?"
"Yep," she nodded, as they got out of the car.
When he opened the front door for her, she stepped into the vast foyer, looking around the beautiful home. She kept it cool, though. Or tried to.
"Mom?" Fitz asked, closing the front door behind them.
Olivia heard an audible gasp. It sounded like it came from a ways away, but still on the same level they were on. Who knew, based on the size of this place.
"Is that my boy?" she asked.
He blushed, rolling his eyes at Olivia. She could tell he was embarrassed. "Yes. And someone else, too."
"Oh! Give me a minute, dear, I'm coming."
Olivia could already hear that she was an absolutely adorable woman. She just had to be.
Fitz took her coat, which she thanked him for, and hung both of theirs up on the hook by the front door. They began to take off their shoes, as Olivia admired the beautiful archways in front of her. The grand staircase that was there, too. Goodness.
And a moment later, Jean Grant, herself, came walking through one of those pretty archways.
It took all but a second for Olivia to see the resemblance of her son in her. Those eyes—they were piercing blue like his. Her dark hair was curly, it actually strongly resembled how Karen's hair looked.
Olivia would have had to guess she was in her early sixties, but she looked fantastic. And Olivia had definitely been right in her assumption, she was an adorable woman! She definitely looked a lot like Fitz, except she was tiny—even smaller than Olivia. Probably 5'2, if she had to guess.
Fitz must have gotten his height from his father.
Olivia could tell Jean was surprised, as she looked over Olivia. It wasn't a bad sort of surprised, but it almost seemed as though she was in awe.
"Well, my goodness. You must be Olivia," Jean said, giving her the biggest smile and reaching out her hand.
She had said "Olivia" like she was some sort of royalty or something.
"That's me!" Olivia nodded. "It's so great to meet you, Mrs. Grant!" Olivia exclaimed, shaking her hand.
"Oh, please, darling. Call me Jean," Jean assured her with a smile. "It is so fantastic to meet you, too."
"Jean," Olivia nodded respectfully. "You have a beautiful home."
First name basis already. This seemed like a good step.
Fitz, on the other hand, watched the interaction as he finished taking off his shoes.
His mother was a very extroverted person, and she got along well with most everyone. And so did Olivia. But it was easy to see right away that they kind of...clicked.
And it made his heart beat fast, seeing Olivia meet her. Another thing that was definitely new. It felt big, and scary, and already like he was bringing a woman home to "introduce her to his mom."
It hadn't exactly been the reason for his idea, he couldn't technically do that considering he was married. But it kind of felt that way now that it was actually happening. And it was happening, whether he had prepared himself for it or not.
"Well, thank you, dear! Aren't you so sweet," Jean smiled. And then she looked to Fitz happily.
"My boy," she said, reaching out her arms.
"Hi, mom," he said, pulling her in for a big hug. He kissed her cheek and rubbed her back. "How are you doing?"
"Oh, I'm wonderful, Fitzgerald. So happy to see you. And my goodness, this hair!" she exclaimed cupping his cheeks. "How are you? How is everything?"
Olivia was a smiling mess, watching them. Fitz towered over her, so he had to lean down pretty far for her to even hug him, let alone touch his face. It was pretty cute.
"Everything's good, mom," he smiled.
"Oh good," she nodded, patting his cheek.
"Well come on in, you two! Olivia, darling, do you drink coffee?" Jean asked.
"I do!" she nodded.
"She loves coffee," Fitz agreed.
"Oh, wonderful! Well, come on then, my dears. I've just brewed a fresh pot," Jean said, gesturing for them to follow.
Olivia already loved her, and she barely even knew her.
She glanced over the house as they walked, hoping she would get the full tour at some point today because wow. Just wow.
She looked around the fancy kitchen, admiring it. It was beautiful, and extremely large.
And her steaming cup of coffee from that nice coffee pot looked like it was going to be pretty damn good.
"Do you take cream, dear?" Jean asked, pouring her a cup.
"Yes, please, just a little bit," Olivia nodded.
"Fitzgerald? Cream or no cream today?" Jean asked.
"Here, I've got it, mom," he offered, coming to help her with some of the mugs. She had three different ones going on right now, including hers.
Her coffee with cream was, indeed, fantastic. And with that cup of coffee came a lot of conversation, mostly on Olivia's end. Just as Fitz said, she had to do a little explaining of her program to Jean, and what her plans were afterward.
From what Olivia gathered, she was pretty sure Jean had expected her to be younger, or something, and not an adult. Because she had been in awe of her since she walked in the door, and then was very clearly impressed with everything she was telling her.
They sat at the cute little breakfast nook table, discussing over coffee. Fitz sat there, listening intently to everything Olivia said. He already knew it all very well, but he enjoyed hearing her talk about what she hoped to accomplish. He enjoyed hearing her talk about her dreams.
The only thing that was different this time, was that she was telling all of these things to his mother. One of the single most important people in his life.
There was no denying now that this was all very real. He began to wonder if it was such a good idea to bring her here. He began to wonder if that wasn't his finest idea—because now he was scaring himself.
Especially because they had connected right off the bat, and that was not how his mother and Mellie were, at all. It was just a change.
Then again, his mother knew he wasn't exactly in a great spot with his marriage. She knew most everything. She understood, and she gave her opinions. But she also knew Fitz was a grown man who could make his own decisions, and that he was in the position he was in right now for a reason. It wasn't for nothing.
So she tended to give the best motherly advice she could, while not outright telling him to do what she wanted him to do. He knew what her preference would be, most likely. It wasn't that hard to figure out.
His mother liked most everyone, but she wasn't a fan of Mellie.
Olivia though. Yes, she definitely liked her.
Jean gave her the whole tour of the house, which Fitz accompanied them on, because they were all having a conversation as they walked.
Olivia was enamored with the house, he could see it in her eyes. And the best part, for her, was probably when she got to see Fitz's room. The room that hadn't changed much since he left the house as an 18-year-old.
"Oh my goodness," Olivia said, turning the corner into the bedroom.
"Yes, this is Fitzgerald's old room," Jean nodded with a smile. "It will remain unchanged, for as long as I'm alive."
"Unfortunately," Fitz chuckled.
"Oh, you be quiet now," Jean said, patting his arm. "You're my only boy! How am I supposed to have the heart to change it?!"
"Because I don't even stay in it anymore when I spend the night—I stay downstairs. It's a waste of a bedroom, mom," he laughed.
"Oh, like I've got a shortage of bedrooms in this house," Jean said sarcastically with a glare.
Olivia was in a fit of laughter next to them.
"That's...that's a fair point," he chuckled.
"Your mother got you there," Olivia laughed.
"Sometimes he thinks he's clever with me, Olivia, I tell you," Jean said, rolling her eyes at her son. He was just laughing quietly in return now.
"And my Karen likes it! Maybe she'll choose to stay in it eventually!" Jean exclaimed.
"Yeah, I agree with Jean," Olivia nodded. Both women looked at him, and he shook his head with a laugh.
"Okay. I lose," he nodded, accepting his defeat.
"Yes, my dear boy, you do," Jean nodded, leading Olivia into his bedroom.
It was a pretty standard bedroom for what had been a teenage boy. Gray walls, a nice big bed, a dresser and two nightstands, and of course, a bookshelf in the corner. It still even had a good amount of books on it.
It was a nice-sized room, with a bathroom and a closet attached. There wasn't much on the walls except for a few framed posters above his dresser.
Aerosmith.
"Oh my gosh," Olivia laughed. "Aerosmith?!"
"I know. I could truly never figure that one out, Olivia," Jean nodded. "They were big long before he was even born. And you know, their music is quite…loud. And he's not a very loud person, as I'm sure you know."
"You know, I am still here, mother," Fitz laughed.
"Oh, that's right. Why did you like them so much, Fitzgerald?" Jean asked.
Olivia couldn't stop laughing.
"I don't know," he shrugged with a laugh. "I was a teenage guy—I liked rock. That's…that's all I got for you. You don't have to be...a loud person to like loud music?"
"Well, your taste in rock has subtled out a bit now to alternative rock," Olivia laughed.
"Yes," he nodded. "And expanded to other things as well. But see, I think we can all agree that the posters can...come down now. Right?"
"Absolutely not!" Jean said.
"Why would she do that?" Olivia asked.
He laughed and shook his head. "Well—I tried."
"You can always try. But your room will always remain your room. Just the way that it is," Jean nodded.
"Alright, mom. I'll accept it," he laughed, watching Olivia nod and giggle along with his mother.
"Well, it's about damn time!" Jean exclaimed. "It must be Olivia that's now made this acceptance possible. Thank you, Olivia."
"You're welcome! I'm not sure I did anything, but always happy to help," she laughed.
"Here, come on. I'll give you the rest of the tour," Jean said, smiling at Olivia.
Olivia nodded and followed her out of Fitz's room.
Fitz watched them both walk out happily, and felt a knot in his stomach. And the reason for it, was hard to grasp. He liked seeing them together. He liked it too much. This was how it was supposed to be. This was what a real relationship looked like, and how his mother should feel about a woman in his life.
It made him anxious. More anxious than normal.
He followed them throughout the house, listening to each little story his mother told about it. She brought up his dad, which made him smile, but feel sad at the same time.
She loved to talk about him—because she was still as in love with him as she was the day she married him. He'd been gone for over twenty years, but it didn't matter. She had moved on from his death, because she'd needed to do that in order to heal. But she would never move on from him. He had been her everything.
And when Olivia first saw a picture of him, she actually gasped.
She thought Fitz looked like his mother, which he did. But the family picture she saw of all of them made her do a double-take. It was one of the last ones they had taken before he got sick, according to Jean.
She said Fitz would have been about six years old in the picture, and he was absolutely adorable. His hair was short, just like it was when she'd first met him. Jean looked like a model, and so did his father. She understood, now, why Fitz looked how he looked.
But his father, who would have been about six years older than Fitz currently, looked just like Fitz. He was very tall, and his wavy hair was even darker than Fitz's, probably. He was built the same way, too. The way he stood, his body language—his entire appearance was just so Fitz.
It made her so sad to see them all, smiling in that picture, not knowing what would happen just a year down the road. That Jean's husband, and Fitz's father, would soon grow so sick. Leukemia.
He had been far too young.
But one thing that Olivia got to see, that made her so happy, was something that was framed on the wall near the living room. A blown-up version of an article that had somewhat recently been written in The Real Deal magazine.
It was a look back on what Fitzgerald Grant Jr. had done for his real-estate group in New York City. It wasn't his business, but he had practically built it from the ground up, being hired and told to do what he thought was best with their New York City branch. And he'd done a fantastic job.
It didn't just highlight the work he had done, though. Because it was a look back on his life, and not just his accomplishments, it equally highlighted the entire Grant family.
Olivia was in awe. There was a section written on all three of them, with all of their pictures and a few quotes within. In Jean's section, it highlighted her nonprofit work that she still did. Her dedication to current civic issues, such as low-income communities and housing, the environment, education, and criminal justice reform.
Olivia's opinion on her only went up after reading all of that. For someone with as much money as they clearly had, it was refreshing to see someone dedicating their time and effort to things like that. If only every family with the means to do that in this world, actually did it.
In Fitz's section, it highlighted his work as well, with J.P. Morgan. Being an executive at an extremely large investment banking operations company. The largest bank in the United States, and the seventh-largest bank in the world by assets.
All at the age of 30.
And his picture. Holy shit, his picture.
She couldn't stop staring at it. Each one of their pictures was very sophisticated, yet more personal than just plain, standard headshots.
It all began with his father's picture. He was sitting on a chair, looking at the camera, which had to have been a ways away. He looked like Fitz, because that picture was a much younger picture of him. He wasn't smiling, though. He looked kind of badass, actually.
Jean's was the same, although hers was obviously more recent, so she was older. She was standing up in hers, though, with a suit on as well. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and she was looking at the camera like she was the baddest bitch in town, doing all the things.
She had every right!
And then there was their son's picture. The one Olivia could not, for the love of God, take her eyes off of.
He was in what looked like a tux, sitting on a cream-colored couch, with a wooden frame. He had no tie on, though, and his jacket and top button on his collar were unbuttoned. He had one leg crossed over the other, and both arms resting on the back of the couch. Looking dead at the camera as if he was the most important man in New York City. No smile.
He, too, looked like a badass.
His hair in the picture was longer than it was when she had met him, but a little shorter than it was now. It was strictly styled with product in the picture, so his curls weren't visible. It appeared more wavy than curly.
He looked absolutely fantastic.
"Wow," Olivia noted, scanning the whole framed magazine spread again. "This piece was so well done."
"I know. They did a really good job with it, I think. I'm glad my dear husband's work is still appreciated, even though he's been gone so long. They just did this last year, you know," Jean nodded.
"That's amazing," Olivia nodded. "So I suppose you had to be interviewed for this then?"
"Oh yes. And we had to spend a good portion of a morning at a photoshoot for those featured pictures. They wanted to imitate the picture Gerry had done, all those years ago. They were very clear that they didn't want headshots—not for this type of intimate piece."
"That makes sense," Olivia nodded. "I love those pictures. They all look fantastic."
"Well, thank you, Olivia!" Jean said. "Fitz had to bear with me that day. Photoshoots aren't his favorite thing."
Olivia smiled, looking back at Fitz who was also smiling.
"Yeah. I just showed up, wore what I was told to wear and posed how I was told to pose. I'm not…I'm not really photogenic," he chuckled.
"I beg to differ," Olivia questioned, pointing to his picture. "It looks like it to me!"
"Yes, my dear, I'm afraid you're going to lose on this one, again, too. You look so handsome. Just like your dad," Jean said, smiling at her husband's photo.
Olivia nodded in agreement, giving him a smile.
He wasn't going to win against Olivia and Jean—not today!
Olivia had a great time visiting with him and his mother. She got to hear all the stories about Fitz as a kid, look at more pictures that she had, and got to have a wonderful lunch, cooked by Jean. Clearly, she'd transferred her skills in the kitchen to Fitz.
And she just got to have everyday conversation with them, too. She enjoyed seeing and hearing him interact with his mom. They very clearly had an amazing relationship—teasing intermingled into it, which made Olivia laugh.
She could tell he was her whole world. She had nothing left aside from him and her work, so she understood. It was nice to see, and very cute.
But Olivia couldn't help but notice that something with Fitz seemed a little off. It was like he was happy, but his mind was elsewhere. They'd been fine this morning. He had been the one to invite her to meet his mother for God's sake.
She couldn't really put it together, not while they were there with his mother, at least. So when they started to say goodbye and grabbed their things, she knew she needed to ask him as soon as they got in the car.
Fitz pulled his mother in for a big hug in the entryway, telling her he'd see her soon and that he loved her.
"I love you too, honey, thank you for coming," she replied. And Olivia saw her whisper something else to him, although she couldn't hear what exactly it was. But she looked away, and began to put on her boots so that it didn't seem like she was trying to eavesdrop. And she really wasn't trying to, it wasn't her business. But she heard Fitz responding to her quietly, too, both with a shake of his head and with a few quiet whispers.
Jean pulled back then and headed toward Olivia next. And she opened her arms for a hug.
Olivia smiled and hugged her back, surprised that she was actually getting one. She felt honored.
"It was so good to meet you, dear," Jean said, squeezing her tight. "You come back anytime, okay? You are always welcome here."
"Thank you so much for allowing me to come," Olivia nodded. "It was so good to meet you, too!"
Jean rubbed her back and pulled back, giving her a smile.
"Your necklace is beautiful, by the way," Jean said, pointing to it. "I noticed it earlier and thought it was just perfect for you. A reminder of where you want to be!"
Olivia smiled, touching her necklace and nodded. "Exactly right."
Jean Grant had it all right. Except...she didn't know that her son was the one who had given it to her. If Olivia ever said "uff da," this would definitely be the time to use the expression.
Fitz stood behind them awkwardly, looking almost nervously at them, and then at the ground. Olivia knew it wasn't just about the damn necklace. Something had seemed off for a while. And she was almost positive that his mother had noticed it too, hence the whispering. She wasn't totally sure that was what it was about, but she thought it was a fair guess.
So when they finally got settled in the car, she had to ask.
"Hey, is everything okay, Fitz?" Olivia asked.
"Huh?" he asked back, looking over at her. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. Why…wouldn't it be?"
"I don't know. I just thought maybe you seemed a bit off," she shrugged. "Did I say or do something?"
"No, God no," he shook his head. "Everything is okay."
Hmm.
"Okay," Olivia said hesitantly. "You can always talk to me. If something's not okay, I would...like to know."
That conversation sounded familiar. Only it had been the other way around last time.
He nodded back, but didn't say anything in return. He just slowly moved his hand over to her thigh, giving it a light squeeze. He opened his palm, waiting for her to slip her hand in his, like she always did.
So she did, hoping to show him that she was right there for him. She didn't want him to shut himself off. But she also knew everyone needed some time to think, or process—she knew that from experience. Although, she didn't know if that's what he was doing right now, or if there was something on his mind that he did need to think about or process. She just thought she'd let him be for a little while and revisit later when they were home.
But the drive was kind of quiet. So that left her with nothing to do but think.
She started to grow nervous. What if she had done something? What if he was regretting today, or regretting more than that? She couldn't say she would blame him. It wasn't a good position to be in at all for either of them, she thought about it every day. Had the trip to his mom's done it—had it gone too far? Was it ever going to go "too far"?
Her mind was a whirlwind of chaos in the car, thinking about everything that could be wrong. Which had the potential to be a lot of things, honestly.
When they got hot come, he immediately went to go let Hank out, and she stopped by the top of the basement stairs.
"I'm going to go change into some comfier clothes, okay?"
"Okay," he nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna go…do the same."
"Okay," she replied. "Afterward…why don't you come downstairs, okay? Maybe we can talk?"
"Um…yeah. Yeah, okay," he nodded slowly. He went up to his room, knowing she was right and that he needed to go down and talk with her. He couldn't push it aside, especially when he had been so adamant that she tell him what was wrong over a month ago. He had been in her exact shoes, he knew that she was likely worried if she had asked to talk.
His mind raced as he picked out a random outfit. His mind wasn't busy just with the aspects of today and this weekend. Not just from having Olivia meet his mother—although that was certainly a large part of his thoughts.
He regretted that. He wished he hadn't invited her, as awful as it was to think. But it was freaking him out now, and that had been entirely his fault.
He changed extremely fast, just putting on a T-shirt and shorts. But he wasn't paying attention to his clothes at all.
He was thinking about seeing his mother hug her, like she was family, or something. Exactly like he wished that she was.
Thinking about the fact that his daughter and wife were still away, not even aware of what had been going on at home. Regardless of how he felt about Mellie, the thought still made him feel ashamed—something he was quite used to feeling by now. And the thought of Karen made it worse.
Thinking about what he now felt for Olivia, and what that meant for him in his personal situation. A situation that didn't feel easy to get out of. A situation where he had to put others before himself, because his feelings weren't the top priority.
But he had put himself in this situation. He had done this all to himself.
He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he walked back down to the main level, and then toward the basement. He felt a buzz in his pocket while he was halfway down the basement stairs, so he shakily pulled it out and looked at the text he had received.
It was a text message from Karen—a response to the message he had sent her earlier, asking how she was, and if she was having fun.
It read:
We are having so much fun, dad! What are you and Liv doing for the weekend so far? Are you having fun too?
He read it over and over, thinking about the answer to that question.
They'd fucked around in the basement. They'd slept together. She'd met his mother.
And it made his heart beat even faster. It wasn't just the text from his sweet daughter that had done it. It had all been building up for a while—a product of things that had solely been his fault. But with everything today, and that message he kept reading, it pushed him too far, over an edge he hadn't reached in a long time.
He reached out and put his palm to the wall of the stairwell, making his way slowly down the rest of the stairs. Trying to calm his heart rate and slow his breathing, as he began to feel dizzy.
He tried. He tried so hard, but it couldn't be controlled. It wasn't something he could always help.
His breathing began to pick up more as he reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Olivia. Olivia—" he said, trying to get her attention. He needed to sit down, he needed to so badly.
He made it to her door alright, because it was his closest option, anyway. It was already slightly open, and the second he pushed it open further, he felt bad, because she was in the process of putting on a pair of joggers. He saw her body in just underwear and a bra. But he didn't have the mental capacity to even think about it right now, he just apologized nonetheless.
"Sorry. Sorry—I…I'm sorry—" he got out.
"Fitz, it's fine. Your tongue is...routinely in my mouth and my hand was down your pants yesterday, so I think you're alright to see me in my underwear," she laughed.
Oh God, that comment didn't help at all.
His breathing then really started to get out of control, and he had to reach out to the door frame for support because he was dizzy.
She turned to look at him now, and from the moment she saw him, she knew something was so extremely wrong.
"Oh God. Fitz—Fitz, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice panicked.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and tried to stop it. But he couldn't. He couldn't do it.
"Oh—fuck," he whispered, clutching the doorframe. Because he knew it was happening now—in front of her. He didn't even have the chance to feel embarrassed about it, because he had enough going on in his head right now.
Olivia finished putting on her clothes so fast, immediately rushing over to him. "Fitz? Fitz. What's wrong, baby, please tell me. Please tell me."
"Bed. Bed—" he murmured, holding so tightly to her hand.
She was freaking out inside, because she had never seen him like this, or anyone for that matter. But she listened to what he said, leading him to her bed quickly, but carefully. Luckily, it wasn't all that far from the door.
By the time he sat down, he was breathing so hard and so fast that he was almost wheezing. He leaned his head down, squeezing her hands on his lap tightly.
His heart raced, and he started to feel extremely short of breath. The dizziness began to hit him harder despite sitting down, and the numbness in his fingers began to take over.
She was terrified, because she had absolutely no idea what to do. She had never experienced something like this in her life, but it didn't take long for her to realize he was having some sort of attack. She remembered something he had said to her on the train once. Something he had said to his daughter before she played at her piano recital:
"Take a break. Take a breath."
He did his deep breathing techniques, tried to unclench his muscles and relax his body, kept his eyes shut, and pictured his happy place.
All he could do was try to divert his attention, so he thought about his daughter. He thought about Olivia, who was currently trying to help. Her voice felt distant to him, but he still heard her beautiful voice. Telling him the very thing his father used to tell him when he was a kid, and needed to hear it.
"Hey, hey. Baby. Take a break. Take a breath. Right?" she whispered, rubbing her thumbs over his hands. "Breathe, Fitz. Breathe."
She did her best. She tried so hard to help, not knowing if it was effective or not, because she'd never witnessed something like this in her life. She was about ready to take out her phone and call 9-1-1, it was that scary.
But slowly, it began to die down. He was listening to her, trying to actively slow his breaths. Although he felt like he was going to faint, he knew he wouldn't. He never did, when this happened. His body made it feel as though he was going to, but he always had to remind himself he would be okay.
No matter what, it would end. Every anxiety attack always ended.
He realized he was gripping Olivia's hands so hard, so he eased up, and began to feel his fingers again as the numbness slowly disappeared.
He was still almost wheezing. But he got a hold of that within a few moments, too. Gaining his full control back.
He slowly opened his eyes, still feeling his heart rate coming back to its normal rate.
He sighed deeply, moving his hands to her comforter to brace himself on her bed.
He was alright. He was okay.
"Maybe everyone…is right. Should be on that…stupid medication," he muttered to himself quietly. Although, he knew it couldn't prevent attacks. It could help. But it had always pissed him off more than it helped him. It hindered his mind, and he didn't like that at all, especially not with his job—he needed a completely clear head for that. He preferred to deal with it on his own, because he'd learned how. Even when things got really bad, which no matter what, could still happen. Sometimes it still got the best of him.
Olivia looked at him with fear. "What medication? Fitz, what just happened?" she asked shakily, rubbing his thighs. He could see the worry so prominent in her eyes.
He sighed, looking down at his lap and closing his eyes again. "Anxiety. I have…anxiety."
Her heart absolutely sank.
"Oh, Fitz. I didn't…I didn't know that," she whispered.
"I know," he mumbled. "I'm—embarrassed of it. Didn't tell you—on purpose."
She wasn't sure her heart could sink any lower, but she was wrong.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," she whispered. "Fitz, I'm…I'm so sorry. I should have put that together. If I would...if I would have known that..." she trailed off, thinking about all the stress and anxiety this had probably caused him.
She'd known he got nervous about things. But she didn't know just how nervous he got on the inside. He seemed to handle it well on the outside, but of course, she would never truly understand how he dealt with it internally. Because it was something she didn't have to deal with herself.
"Not your fault. My fault. Just didn't…want to tell you," he whispered. "Should have...told you. My fault."
"Shh, it's okay. This isn't your fault," she assured him. "It's okay. I'm…I'm just so sorry. I…did I cause this, Fitz? Is this what was wrong today? Did we go...too far? Did this happen because of me?"
He looked at her pretty face, and didn't know what to say. It wasn't her. She wasn't the sole reason. But it was things that revolved so much around her. And telling her no outright would be a lie.
"I…" he began, struggling to find words. "I just…"
"Oh my God," she whispered, putting her hands up to her face. She could feel the tears forming, and she knew they were going to come out. "This was me. Us. Our relationship, is what...has led to this. This makes you anxious."
"Everything makes me anxious, Olivia. Everything," he said, shaking his head. "It's not…it's not just one thing."
"This—what we're doing—is a pretty big thing, Fitz," she said worriedly, looking up at him.
He sighed, looking stressfully down at his lap, and nodded. "I...I know."
"And it's been hurting you this badly the whole time?" she whispered. The hurt was prominent in her voice. Because it was painful knowing she had been a part of what had caused his pain. A big part.
"It...it hurts you, too. It's not...it's not just me," he reasoned quietly.
She leaned her head on his lap, sighing and feeling the tears falling down her cheeks slowly. "The negatives really do outweigh the positives for us, don't they?"
He looked sadly down at her, trying to find words, and not being able to find the right ones. But she wasn't done.
"I mean, no matter what, we're going to hurt people, Fitz. It could be us, it could be us and others. Someone's always going to get hurt, no matter...what we do," she whispered.
He shook his head, looking at her in pain. "I think we just…we just went into this too fast, without...a plan. It's been such a big change…just keeps changing every day. It's getting—so real. I don't know…what to do. My fault. This is all my fault—everything. Don't know…what to do."
He could see her beginning to cry, and it made him want to cry. He felt the lump in his throat. Because it had all been too much. Everything—the conflict they both felt, the intense feelings, both positive and negative. The large changes. It had been too much.
They sat there for a few moments, holding onto each other. She knelt on the floor, with both hands in his lap. And he now held her hands again, leaning down toward her. Still not feeling 100 percent like himself, but he was fully in control again, and everything had subsided.
"We can't…we can't keep doing this can we?" she asked quietly, her voice strained.
The thought made him panic. But so did his feelings for her. In every scenario, he was going to feel panicked.
"I don't…" he began, feeling a tremble in his voice. "I don't know. I don't…I don't know what to do, Livvie. I thought…I would have a plan by now. I'm supposed to have one, and…and I don't. I've failed. Clearly I've failed as…as a husband, and a father. And I've failed you. Because I don't…I don't have an answer right now, and I'm supposed to."
He was beginning to feel the tears now. He was ashamed, and sad. Feeling as though there was no good option in front of them.
She sniffled, looking up at him. "I think we both know what needs to happen, Fitz. I think we've known it this whole time. And I think we should have had this conversation before now."
He exhaled, and felt pain shoot through his chest. "I don't want it to happen. I don't…" he sighed, wiping his face. "Just…give me a second, okay. Let's just…one second."
"Baby. We both know," she said, tears streaming down her face.
He watched her crying in front of him, and the tears started to fill his eyes, too.
Because she was right. He did know.
"I put you in…the worst position. I…am so sorry…for doing that," he whispered. I was wrong. I should have never…kissed you that night. I should have never…involved you. Because this isn't fair to you. I should have had…a plan to begin with. I shouldn't have gone in…blind, and that's entirely my fault. This…I am so sorry, Olivia."
"No," she shook her head. "It isn't fair, Fitz. But you know what?" she cried. "You don't need to apologize, because I'm not sorry it happened. You're just…not mine to have, and we've known that all along. You belong—to someone else."
He shook his head, tears streaming down his face now. He found it so hard to look at her.
"I can't just come in, and…and steal you away from her—someone you've stuck it out with for ten years for a reason. It wasn't my goal—and it's not my place. It should never have happened. But it did. And now—we have to deal with the consequences of it. Just like we've been doing...already."
"No—I can't lose you," he said, wiping his cheeks. "I can't do it. I can't."
"And you won't," she cried. Her lip trembled as she looked at him. "You won't lose me. We'll figure out something…that works. Something that isn't...what we have now."
He shook his head, bringing his shirt up over his face to wipe the tears away. He was so embarrassed to be crying right now. He hadn't cried in years. "This is all…my fault. Everything. I cannot tell you—how sorry I am. I…you are my best friend. My best friend. You mean…the world to me, Olivia."
"You mean the world to me too, Fitz," she whispered, looking up at him through glossy eyes. "We'll be okay. We'll be just fine. I don't blame you for anything, it takes two to tango. I was in this...just as much as you, and I've known the position that you're in. I did this willingly too, none of this is...solely on you. We both made a mistake, and...that's that."
It was so hard for her to agree with what she was saying to him. But at this point, she didn't feel like she had any choice. She didn't ever want him feeling anxious because of their situation again, because what she'd witnessed earlier had been the scariest thing she'd ever seen. And because she knew the world was against them already. Maybe this was God intervening and letting them off "easy." So far, they hadn't hurt anyone but themselves. And with this weird of a situation, that was a blessing.
It was as if everything she'd felt this weekend, how far they'd gone and the things that had happened, didn't matter anymore.
In the end, how could this work? That was the bottom line.
It was November. After ten years of this, she wasn't sure how she could rationally expect him to drop everything after a decade, for a woman he'd known for a few months. It wasn't just a matter of him deciding to leave. There were a lot of things that had to be considered, not just his own feelings. Even though his own feelings were quite strong.
It just wasn't plausible. Nothing about their relationship was plausible, easy, or right. And with everything that had happened, it was clear it was time to call it quits.
He sighed, squeezing her hands in his lap. Both of them, with tears running down their faces.
"How do we go back?" he whispered. "How do we go back and pretend this didn't happen? How are we supposed to...to do that?"
"I don't know," she sniffled. "I don't know, Fitz. Just like you, I don't know."
"I'm so sorry," he said, pulling her up toward him. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm so sorry," she whimpered back, allowing herself to be pulled onto his lap and in for a hug.
The second her head hit his shoulder, she began to cry harder. He wrapped his arms around her, and she let her legs wrap around his body as they sat there on the edge of the bed.
"I'm so sorry," he cried again, hugging her tighter than he thought he had ever hugged anyone.
"Stop...apologizing. Everything will be okay," she cried. "We'll be alright, baby."
That felt like a plain old lie.
And she probably didn't have the right to call him "baby" right now, or ever again. But she wanted to enjoy this moment with him. It might be the last time she ever hugged him—she had absolutely no idea. She had no idea what anything was going to look like for them now.
They sat like that for a long time. With the apologies coming out, and the pain radiating off of both of them. But also knowing, that there would perhaps be a sense of relief, at least to their consciences. Whether or not that would make a damn difference in the grand scheme of things now, they didn't know. But regardless, the "right" thing to do, would be to do exactly what they were doing; being done.
But after all of that, they needed some space. Some time to think and process, just as Olivia had been thinking about earlier. Only earlier, when she'd been thinking about it, this isn't exactly what she had in mind.
This was much worse.
She hadn't anticipated this weekend would go this way. Not at all. When they'd joked that the weekend of November 15 would go down in her personal history books, she didn't know this was why.
When he finally went upstairs and left her alone, she closed her door, and sobbed quietly on her bed. She let the tears come out openly, and for as long as she needed. Because while she knew they were doing what was right, it hurt so badly. And she knew it would hurt badly for a long time.
Fitz didn't handle it much differently. He had to go let in Hank, the poor dog who had taken to sniffing each individual item in their backyard because he'd been out there so damn long.
He seemed unbothered though, at least. More time outside wasn't exactly a bad thing, Fitz just hoped he hadn't been too cold.
But then he went upstairs immediately, feeling the tears still running down his face. Now he truly felt lost. He knew this was what needed to happen, he'd technically known that all along. But he'd never wanted it to. Those things were very different.
But he couldn't have it both ways. He couldn't feel guilty, and like he needed to stop what he was doing, but also feel like he wanted to be with Olivia and only Olivia. That wasn't going to work—clearly it hadn't worked. She had a life to live too. She deserved so much better than him. So much more than what he had to offer her.
He clutched onto the railing as he walked upstairs to his bedroom, feeling the tears cloud his vision.
He started to feel nauseous, too, as he thought about everything that had just happened. He didn't know why. It could have been from everything starting to sink in, or as part of his anxiety. It could have been from the fact that something he'd never felt before had just been stripped from him so quickly, and it was hitting him harder than he thought it would. He could have just been extremely overwhelmed, or it could have been a mix of everything. He didn't know, but he made it to his bedroom and to his bathroom, bracing himself against the doorframe first.
He made it just in time to the toilet before he got sick.
He threw up everything, probably. Breakfast, his mom's lunch—everything he had, and more. Until there was nothing left. All while the tears still came down.
He flushed the toilet and rinsed out his mouth, but that was all he had the energy to do before he sunk back down against the bathroom wall, putting his hands up to his face.
His eyes caught the prescription bottle near his sink. The medication that he didn't even take. His overprotective mother had asked him about it today—quietly in a whisper before he and Olivia left. She was curious about if he was handling it okay, or if he'd tried any new medication.
She and Olivia had both noticed he was off today, and his mother had been able to generally pinpoint what it was. She knew him better than anyone. She could see when he was feeling more anxious than normal.
She'd been right.
He sat there now, against his bathroom wall, feeling embarrassed as he wiped his steady tears away. After he'd just thrown up everything there was to throw up.
He felt so many different things aside from the embarrassment. He felt pain. Anger. Uncertainty. Anxiety. And a deep, deep passion, for someone that he couldn't have.
"I love you…I love you," he sobbed, leaning his head back against the wall. Talking to the woman who couldn't hear him. And saying the phrase that he feared he'd never get to say out loud to her.
"I love you."
Well, I hope you are all still in one piece.
I did warn you that it would not be easy. But as I've said, they will learn. This is just a very difficult, but a very real situation, for two people that are truly good at heart to be in. Canon Fitz and Liv had their stuff to figure out, too. ASA Olitz will do the same!
And while anxiety does not define who you are and can be handled well, it is still no light subject. :(
I promise. It will all be okay! With a storyline like this, has to come some trust.
Lots will happen in the next chapters.
Read on, and please stay safe, friends.
~T
P.S. Fitz's featured magazine picture is up on my Twitter and Tumblr.