Fitz awoke to his alarm from another restless night of sleep. Probably worse than the night before.
And what made it worse, was that he was lying next to his wife.
At least the night before, he'd gotten to sleep alone, since Mellie had still been away at her aunt's house. And of course the night before that, he'd slept with Olivia in her bed.
Her bed was small, much smaller than the King-sized bed he was laying in now. He had been too tall for it. And he hadn't slept that close to someone in years. But he already missed it.
There was nothing better than sleeping next to the woman he loved, that much he knew. He hadn't gotten to experience it until now, at 30 years old, but from the one night it had happened—he knew all he needed to know.
At least with his large King-sized bed, he was able to stay far away from Mellie.
He turned his alarm off, listening to Mellie groan and shift in bed next to him.
He quickly got out of bed, and rubbed his eyes. They felt so tired.
He felt so tired.
He wouldn't be surprised if when he looked in the mirror, there were bags underneath his eyes.
This entire week may be a venti Starbucks drink week—he was already thinking about it.
When he glanced over himself in his bathroom mirror, it was exactly what he thought he'd see. Bags under his eyes—they weren't awful. But they were there. His hair, only getting longer by the day, was starting to really curl up on its ends.
So much for continuing to grow it out for her.
It was particularly crazy this morning, so he wet his fingers and ran them through his curls, at least getting them under control before he went downstairs to work out.
He hoped it wouldn't be weird. He was awful in situations like these, he knew he was, so he figured it would be weird.
He'd try his best. The thought of seeing her made his heart happy. But it was then followed by sadness. He just hoped she didn't hate him. He couldn't bear for her to hate him, even though he could understand if she did.
He felt responsible for everything. She'd handled it all so well, and so maturely. She'd helped him, even during a time when she was hurting—because of him. And that said more about her than she probably even knew.
She was amazing. That would never change. It would probably only get harder for him, actually, as time went on. Because in the day and a half that had passed since they'd ended things, it had only gotten harder.
He found it increasingly harder to act normal in front of Karen, and Mellie, too, despite the fact that he knew Mellie didn't pay enough attention to him to notice anyway. She only paid attention when it suited her needs, or Karen's.
But mostly, it was hard because he loved Olivia, and she was right there. She was so close, but not available. Not for him, she couldn't be.
Who knew how today would go. It was Monday—back to their normal routine. The rest of Saturday night hadn't been normal, it had been weird. They'd eaten dinner together, each with red, puffy eyes and fake, forced smiles on their faces. Because what else could they do?
And yesterday, she'd done her homework downstairs for most of the day. They'd still seen each other, and acted normal because Mellie and Karen were there from the early afternoon to the rest of the day. So they'd had no choice.
But today they'd be alone like normal, for their workout—and during their commutes.
He got ready quickly, mostly because he was anxious to see her.
He saw that a banana had already been taken from the previously full bunch in the kitchen, and he smiled because he knew it was her, of course. He grabbed one too, and ate it before he headed downstairs.
He almost had to remind himself not to nudge open the bathroom door where she always was, to say good morning and kiss her.
But as he passed the bathroom door, he realized she wasn't there anyway.
Her bedroom door was shut, and so was the gym door. Panic began to set in his chest as he walked to the gym, thinking she wasn't up yet. Thinking she didn't want to be up, because she didn't want to work out with him anymore.
He opened the gym door, assuming he'd find it empty. But there she was, sitting on a yoga mat, already stretching. Ahead of schedule today.
She had her legs spread completely out wide, and she was reaching forward with her arms so that she could stretch. Her torso was just about flat on the floor, and it made him think things.
So flexible, oh God.
"Hey," she greeted, not looking up at him.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to look away because Lord knew what that woman did to his southern region.
"Hey," he greeted back, heading to set down his water bottle. "For a second I thought...you weren't going to be in here."
"Why?" she asked, now moving her torso to her right leg and stretching that side of her body specifically. She still hadn't looked at him.
Well, he thought the answer to her question was fairly obvious, but he didn't push it. Clearly she was going to go about this as if nothing had happened. And if that's what she wanted, that's what he'd do. He didn't know how else to cope, truly. So he went with it.
"I don't know," he shrugged, starting to stretch along with her. "Just glad you're here."
"Glad you're here too," she replied, switching to her other leg to stretch.
It was pretty quiet, and it was weird, which was no surprise. Not that they couldn't act normal, but with just the two of them, it was much different. When there was nobody to pretend in front of, it naturally grew weird.
But they tried their best.
Olivia could tell he was starting to revert back to how he had been when they first met. He'd always been shy, that would never change. But at least as time had gone on, he's grown far more comfortable with her.
And she could feel that slipping away now.
She wasn't sure if it was his own way of coping, if he just truly didn't know what to say, or if he was beginning to shut down.
No matter what, she couldn't blame him. It was hard. She had spent the past two nights crying herself to sleep, which was truly saying something because she hated to cry.
It was annoying, it always gave her a headache afterward, it made her eyes puffy, and it usually ruined her makeup, depending on the time of day.
It made it even worse that she was dealing with it all alone. She hadn't told a single soul, and was beginning to think she truly needed to for her wellbeing. It was extremely hard on her to keep it in, especially given how much of a heartache it was.
It was so bad. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. It hurt more than she could even imagine something hurting.
And it was hard in her position to act normal in front of the Grant family, when she was in love with one of them. So head over heels that he never left her mind. Never.
But considering it was that hard for her, she knew it must absolutely kill him inside. To have to pretend in front of his own family, when she was there living with them. To have to hide it and act normal for his daughter, especially. She didn't know the extent of his feelings for her because they'd never shared that with each other. But she knew he was hurting. She could see it on his face every day. And she'd certainly seen the tears he'd cried a couple days ago, the tears that left his eyes puffy and red. And she knew she never wanted to see those again—it hurt so badly just to witness.
But this is what they'd decided was best. So here they were, living their life how they were supposed to live it. As friends, and nothing more.
After their workout, which ended abruptly on the hour mark, they both headed upstairs without a word to mix protein shakes. And after that, they headed their separate ways to get ready.
Olivia covered the remnants of her puffy, bagged eyes with makeup, making sure her overall appearance was how it usually was and wouldn't lead to any questioning. That was the last thing she needed.
By the time she was finished getting ready, she found the main level empty, which meant Fitz was already in the car warming it up for them. So she said goodbye to little Hank, and headed for the car.
She got in, looking briefly at him and settling down in the passenger seat.
The shine of her necklace caught his eye, and he couldn't help but feel his heart warm just at the sight. She had kept it on. She'd promised she'd wear it every day, and she still was.
It made him feel like she was his despite everything, even though he knew he probably shouldn't feel that way. But he kept quiet about it, anyway, thinking it just wasn't the best thing to bring up right now.
His music softly played in the car, which made their silence a little bit more comfortable as they made their way to Starbucks.
Except for when the song "It's Not Over" by one of his favorite bands, Daughtry, came on.
All Olivia needed to hear was some of the chorus to start feeling annoyed by it. She'd probably heard the song before, considering they were one of Fitz's favorites. But a sentimental song like that hit much worse now.
Let's start over,
I'll try to do it right this time around,
it's not over,
'cause a part of me is dead and in the ground
The last line of the chorus, "but you're the only one, it's not over." really took the cake.
Yeah, so that definitely was not happening today.
She reached forward immediately and pressed the "next song" button on his touch screen display.
He looked over at her briefly, probably surprised because she would normally never do that. His music was usually nice to listen to, but she didn't need any of that business going on right now.
Of course, naturally, the next song that came on was James Morrison's "Nothing Ever Hurt Like You."
Seriously?
So then she reached forward and completely turned down the volume. Probably a bit dramatic, but she wasn't playing today.
He looked at the title of the song, and looked back at the road, his face growing a little sadder than it already was.
He was clenching and unclenching his fingers against the steering wheel—fidgeting like he did when he was nervous or uncomfortable.
"Please..." he began quietly, breaking the silence. "Please don't shut down on me."
She looked over at him. "I haven't shut down on you," she answered. "I was worried that's what you were doing."
"I'm not. I'm...I'm not trying to," he said. "I'm just...I'm not a great talker, and...you make me nervous. It feels like everything is different with us so I just...don't know exactly what to say."
"Yeah," she sighed, looking out the window. She could relate. "Me neither, Fitz."
"This is...all my fault," he said. "I'll never be able to tell you...just how sorry I am."
"Fitz, please stop blaming yourself for everything," she replied. "Okay?"
He looked at her, the pain so prominent on his face, and then looked back at the road sadly.
"Please tell me how I can help. Please tell me if I can," he said.
She shrugged, trying to give him a brave face despite the fact that they were both probably emotionally drained.
"I don't know, Fitz. The truth is, I don't know if anything is truly going to help. I don't know...how to move on from you when I see you every day and I feel what I feel."
"I know," he nodded. "I...I know. I'm so sorry."
"You don't have to apologize," she replied. "I don't blame you for anything. We just have to...move on, somehow, and that's that."
"Yes. I know."
The car was silent for a bit longer, as they neared Starbucks. There felt like nothing left to say. It felt like there was so much left unsaid, but at the same time, at this point, what more should they really say?
He cleared his throat as he rolled down his window. "You uh...you want a coffee or a latte?"
"I'll do a regular coffee," she answered.
He nodded, and ordered them both venti coffees with cream. He already knew she needed a venti too.
"Thanks," she said, after they drove away, heading toward the station.
"Of course," he nodded. "Nothing's going to...change our routine."
She mustered up a smile, and nodded at him. "Good. That was...what we wanted."
But there was so much missing from their routine. The kisses they shared every morning. The smiles, and the laughs, and the hand-holding. It was already so much different. The fact that his hand wasn't on her thigh right now made her sad.
She knew it would get a bit easier, because everything was still so fresh right now. Maybe they'd get back into it. Maybe they'd have the friendship they had before it all escalated that one evening in October.
That was what they'd aimed for together, when they were hopelessly wondering how they were going to proceed on Saturday. That's what they'd agreed on—not losing each other and making this work.
That was the only goal they could have.
They both read on the train, sitting next to each other. She remembered last Monday, when they'd decided they were going to play hookey.
It was only a week ago, and yet it felt like it had been an eternity since then. She remembered how happy they'd been. How normal it had felt, to walk around the city hand in hand with him.
She wished she could go back, just to cherish it all again. But instead, here they were today, questioning whether or not they should even fist bump each other as they said goodbye outside of his building.
It was just a stupid fist bump, and yet, it was still another thing she realized she had taken for granted before.
But in the end, he smiled at her, and went for it. Because he wasn't going to let everything be taken from them. Especially not the little things like that, unimportant as they may have seemed.
Fitz watched her walk away for a bit, thinking she had looked so pretty today. So put together and prepared, despite everything she was dealing with. But that was life, and it was what he needed to do, too. Shit went on, and work didn't stop.
He did get a lot of work done, despite the many day-to-day interruptions he always got, and the fires he had to constantly put out.
And despite the fact that his mind was partially on his work and partially on Olivia.
He was starting to bounce his knee under his desk, staring at a document for way too goddamn long—his mind on about 87 different things.
One of them being the fact that he desperately wanted to talk to someone before he exploded. Work didn't stop, that was for sure, but he also couldn't work efficiently if he was battling his thoughts internally—which is what he was beginning to do.
He briefly checked his watch, seeing that it was past noon already, and decided he might be able to catch his best friend on her lunch break.
He'd actually been debating calling her yesterday before Mellie and Karen came back, but he hadn't.
Now he was realizing he couldn't hold off any longer, because it was gnawing at him, and he needed air.
After leaving his office and taking the elevator to the lobby, he quickly buttoned his coat, heading for the glass revolving door that led outside.
The sounds of New York City surrounded him—the chaos outside reflected the chaos he felt inside. How fitting.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, deciding he'd just make a loop around his building because it wasn't all that cold today, and he needed to walk, or pace, or something.
Abby answered within two rings, and he could instantly tell she was eating something.
"Hey dude," she answered, mouth full of something.
"Hey. Is this a bad time?" he asked.
"For you? Never. I'll always answer the phone for you," she replied. "Well—unless I'm having sex. Then I'm sending you to voicemail."
He wanted to laugh. He normally would have—but in light of things, he could only muster a very weak, and very brief chuckle, before he grew quiet again. So he figured he should probably at least thank the woman.
"Thanks, Abbs. I uh...I appreciate it."
"Of course," she answered. "Hey, have you eaten? I've been dealing with fucknuts all morning and decided I deserved an extra-long lunch break. You can come share my salad—it's amazing."
"No, that's...that's alright. Thank you, though, I do know how good your salads are," he replied. "I don't have...all that long, I've gotta go deal with...fucknuts again too. I just...I just really wanted to call you. I just...needed to, I think."
"Of course, what's up?" she asked.
He sighed, burying his hand in his coat pocket as he walked.
"It's...Olivia and I."
Abby grew excited.
"Oooo, I'm all ears," she said.
He cleared his throat and paused. "Um...she and I are...we're done, and I didn't know who else to call. You're the only one that knows, you and David. And...I just needed to talk to someone about it, I don't...I'm struggling. I really am."
He heard Abby gasp as soon as he spilled, followed by her worried voice.
"Oh no, Fitz. How come? What happened? I thought...I thought this weekend just you and her would be good?" Abby asked.
"This weekend...was awful," he replied.
"What? What happened?" Abby asked worriedly.
"A lot of things happened," he answered. "Things that hadn't happened before. She...met my mom. Other things. It was too much. It kept building...it's—so real. It's still so real. Everything keeps changing. It was...all my fault—it backfired on me and I fucking freaked out, which was the last thing I needed."
"What? Did you...have an attack?" Abby asked, the worry so prominent in her voice.
He sighed. "Yeah."
"Oh, Fitz," she replied sadly. "I wondered how...this would impact you."
"I know," he admitted, running his fingers through his hair.
"Well are you okay? How are you doing? Have you had one since then?" Abby asked.
"No," he shook his head. "I'm fine. I mean—I'm...I'm not, really, I'm not going to lie to you. But you don't have to worry. I don't want you to worry, Abbs, I just...wanted to talk, that's all."
"I'm already worrying."
"Please, don't, Abbs. I brought this all on myself."
She sighed. "Okay, wait a minute. Let me just...I'm processing. So, okay—she met your mom?"
"Yeah, and...she loved her. They both...loved each other. I shouldn't have...invited her—that was so stupid," he sighed.
"I think it's kind of sweet, actually," Abby replied. "Could Jean...tell?"
"I don't know," Fitz answered. "I hope not—I mean, she asked about...my anxiety, I guess, she could see I was off, I think. I just kept...seeing them together, and...it scared me. It felt like that's what it was supposed to feel like. It felt real—and that was new. It just scared me, which is...embarrassing. But I've never had this before, I don't...I don't know what I'm doing, Abbs."
"Oh dear," she sighed. "I was not expecting this at all. I really thought you two were..."
"No," he shook his head. "We're not. We...can't be."
Abby sighed again. "Fitz, can I ask you something?"
"Yeah," he nodded, deciding to stop walking for a minute while he talked to her.
"How come you're running from that? How come...you realizing it's getting real, and things are changing, means things between you and her have to end permanently?" Abby asked.
"Because I'm married, Abby. I'm married, and I have a child, and...she lives in my house. She's not...she's not even in college yet. It was never going to work anyway. We both knew that. I think...we all knew that."
"That is bullshit, Fitzgerald," Abby replied. "I know you. You wouldn't have started something with her if you didn't think there was something there. It was real to begin with, Fitz. I sure as hell know you weren't just looking for a piece of ass—or you would have been screwing her months ago. That's not you."
"Yeah, well I was wrong, Abby. I was wrong to start something. It was...irresponsible, and shitty. There's no denying that."
"It was, Fitz. But guess what—you did it. Because your marriage is dead and there was something between you two. There is something between you two. You can't just completely disregard that. How...do you feel about her?"
He sighed, shaking his head as he adjusted his grip on his phone. He'd prefer to disregard that right now, actually.
"That doesn't matter."
"'It doesn't matter'—my ass. Tell me," she said again.
It would be the first time he told someone. But he knew Abby would never rest. She wanted all the facts—it's how she was; a very typical lawyer. So he mustered up the courage, feeling his hand start to shake as he held his phone up to his ear, letting out a quiet sigh.
"I'm...in love with her."
She was silent for a moment while she took a deep breath.
"And does she...know?" Abby asked.
"No," he answered with a sigh.
She sighed back. "Fitzgerald."
"Hm."
"You've never loved a woman in your life, and now that you do—now that someone came in and made you feel. Truly feel. Now you're feeling like you have to run from it?"
"What am I supposed to do, Abby? I can't...Liv and I can't do this anymore. We couldn't take it. Clearly, we couldn't take it, and it ended up causing more harm than good. I don't know...what to do. I thought I would know, and I don't, that's exactly what I told her. I don't have the answer, and I have no plan."
"No, Fitz, you're missing my point. I'm not saying you should keep screwing around on your wife behind her back. You're right, that probably was only going to lead you down a much worse path. What I'm saying is you need to figure out what you want. You're talking about having a plan like this is some sort of risk prevention strategy at work. Guess what Fitz, when you love someone, the world's not going to give a shit whether you have a plan or not. It doesn't work like that—you don't choose who you love. It's chaotic, and it hurts, and it has no regard for your life. So sure, you should have a general idea of what you're going to do. But having some written out, step-by-step plan on leaving your wife, getting her to cooperate, explaining everything to Karen, going through a divorce—that's not all going to go how you want it to go. That's not all going to go according to some well-rehearsed plan, Fitz. What you need—is to figure out what you want. That's half the battle. So what do you want?"
He was taking in everything she was saying—everything about explaining it to Karen and divorcing Mellie, and it was overwhelming. He was looking around at the busy streets of New York, listening to his best friend tell it to him straight, like he appreciated when she did. But it was still difficult to hear, because if he knew what he wanted, he wouldn't be in this position right now. Clearly.
"I don't—I don't know, Abbs," he replied. "I don't...this is all so new to me, I still feel like I have no idea what I'm doing. And I'm supposed to know. I'm supposed to know, and I don't."
"You're telling me you don't know what you want for yourself?" Abby asked.
"It's not just about me Abby. I can't only think about me. If I only ever thought about me—I would have been out of that house a long fucking time ago."
"No, you can't only think about you, you're right. But how long can you keep doing this?" Abby asked. "Have you thought about that?"
"Of course I have," he said. "But...Karen. I can't..."
"You can," Abby said. "If you want to—you can. Don't tell yourself you can't. Regardless of your relationship with Olivia, you will never be truly happy in that house. And can you be the absolute best dad you can be for Karen when you're unhappy, Fitz?"
"I think I've done a pretty damn good job raising my child—if you're trying to say otherwise," he replied, his tone getting a little bit angry.
"Absolutely you have, I'm not saying you haven't," Abby replied. "What I'm saying is...is this what you want? Knowing what you know now...is this the life you really want, and think is best in the long run?"
"I don't...I don't know," he answered honestly. "I don't know."
"And I think...therein lies your problem, Fitz," she said.
He sighed as he leaned against the building, and then decided to continue to walk again as he verbalized all his thoughts to her.
"I don't know what to do," he said quietly, returning his free hand to his pocket again. He probably sounded like a broken record. But that didn't change the fact that he still didn't know. He didn't even know how to begin to go about making a decision like this.
"I know," she nodded gently. "And I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry you're in this situation."
"It's my fault I'm in the situation I'm in," he answered.
"Why do you keep saying that?" Abby asked. "This is nobody's fault. What happened happened, and that's that. I certainly doubt she thinks it's your fault, based on what I know of her."
"She...doesn't. She's...too kind," he answered. "She handled things...far better than I did on Saturday. I was...such a mess, and she was caught completely off guard. But she...helped me—when it happened. She's amazing. She's so amazing, Abby."
"And how has she been doing?" Abby asked.
"I don't know," he admitted. "Everything is still so fresh, we haven't talked about it much since Saturday. But I know she's hurting."
"God, I feel awful about all of this," Abby said. "I'm so sorry, Fitz. And I don't mean to be...harsh about it. But you're my best friend, so I wanted to be honest with you. Because I just want what's best for you, and because I love you. I just...I haven't ever seen you happy, Fitz, not with...her. But...when I met Olivia, I did see it. I saw you with her, and I heard you talk about her, and I just...I knew. Because I could see even then, that you loved her."
He sighed, switching his phone to his other ear.
"I'm glad you were honest, I always want you to be. And I love you too. You're right. You're...right, I just...it doesn't feel that easy to me right now," he said.
"I know," she replied understandingly. "I know. It isn't easy. But...do you want to know something?"
"Hm?" he asked.
"I'm still rooting for you," she said. "I know you can't do this—what you and her were doing. You can't be with her right now—it didn't work and it probably shouldn't have happened. But...that doesn't mean you and her are over, Fitz. I don't care what you did, I really don't. You're such a good man—this didn't change that. You deserve to be happy. I don't know what's going to happen, only you can control that. But I just want you to understand that you don't have to be over, if both of you don't want to be. All it starts with, is a choice. But right now, it's one that only you can make. So just know...I'm still rooting for you."
He let out a deep breath and smiled slightly.
"Thanks for that, Abbs. Thank you."
"David and I are always here. If...you need someplace to go or people to talk to, you know we've always got you. Always."
"I do know that, and I appreciate it. Thank you," he replied quietly. "I don't know what I'd do without you guys."
"Go crazy, probably," Abby said.
"Yeah," he nodded, letting out a slight laugh. "Wouldn't...interrupt your salad eating, either."
She laughed back. "Shit, I forgot about my salad."
"I'll uh...I'll let you eat," he replied. "Thanks for talking with me. Thank you. I needed it. I needed to hear you."
"You're welcome, Fitz," she nodded.
"I'll talk to you later, Abbs."
"Yes. Please call me later this week. Text too. Any time you need."
"I'll stay connected," he assured her.
"Alright, thank you. Have a good day," she said. "Don't kill any fucknuts."
"I'll try," he chuckled. "You either."
"No promises! Bye, dude."
"Bye."
He hung up and sighed, looking around at the busy street. A part of him felt better, simply because she knew now, and because he knew he could always talk to her. She had good advice, and saw it from a different perspective than he did.
He knew it could be hard to see things that were often right in front of you, when you were in a situation, yourself.
The only problem was he already knew everything in front of him right now. But that didn't make him feel any more prepared to potentially decide anything.
Of course, the option of leaving his wife had occurred to him, it had occurred to him many times before now. But it never felt like a viable option. If it did, he would have done it by now.
But then what would this all be for? They had agreed, and that agreement had never faltered on either end, not for a decade. It had never even been a question, really. They were married, end of story—that was how both of them had always looked at it.
Leaving Mellie, leaving Karen, leaving the house he had built and the life he had built in Rye—that was a large change, one that didn't feel possible. It just didn't, it went against everything they had planned.
And it was all centered around Karen, and of course, some fear. Fear of how it would impact her. How she would adjust. What she would think and how she would feel. Potentially not seeing her every day. That was a completely different life right there.
He wasn't happy. He knew he wasn't—he hadn't ever been with Mellie. But his happiness wasn't his first priority, and never had been. Not since the day he sat with Mellie in her apartment bathroom at 19 years old, looking down at the positive pregnancy test she held in her trembling hand.
So the "choice" Abby had discussed never truly felt like an option to him. His thoughts of it were brief and passed quickly. To him, it was a sacrifice he made daily for Karen, and he hadn't known any differently for as long as she'd been alive.
But Abby was also right. He was in love with someone else, and he didn't get to choose to stop that. It was going to be something he lived with for a long time—how long, he didn't know.
All he knew was that it wasn't all it was cracked up to be, not so far. It was strong, and different, and chaotic, and it made him more anxious than usual.
And most of all—it hurt.
Olivia's day was long, and painful. Her friends made it better, especially because she felt obligated to be her happiest self in front of them to avoid questioning. And she succeeded with that, at least.
But she knew she was in desperate need to talk to someone, or this wouldn't go well for her. The pain would deepen, and she would bottle things up, which she knew wasn't good.
So after a pretty quiet commute home with Fitz, she quickly went down to her room. Mellie was picking Karen up on her way home, so it was them alone in the house, which she did not want to think about.
She shut the basement door and then her bedroom door, and texted to see if Shawn could FaceTime.
Shawn would have been long done with school, it was just a matter of if she was busy or not. And luckily, she texted back fairly quickly, saying she'd call in a second.
At first, Olivia answered with a smile and played it off. Because not only did she have to tell Shawn the most recent events with Fitz, she had to explain how it got to be what it was. Shawn knew nothing as of now, and that was a lot to spill in one FaceTime session.
And it started to look like it was going to be downright impossible, when Shawn started to tell Olivia about her current fling with Marcus Walker, and their next plans for a date.
Olivia held strong and supported her best friend, because she knew how much she liked him, and how long she had liked him for.
But when Shawn segwayed into joking about bringing a "city boy" home on a double date, she couldn't hold it together any longer.
Olivia looked down at her desk, feeling the tears rushing out this time. Crying almost felt like second nature to her now, despite how much she hated it. It was certainly all she'd done the past couple days, that was for sure.
"Liv? You good?" Shawn asked.
Olivia shook her head, still refusing to look up at her laptop camera. "No. I'm not."
"Oh, Liv. I was...I was just playing about the double date thing!" Shawn exclaimed. "I can't get too ahead of myself, anyway, Marcus and I aren't even, like, dating dating yet. And it's me—I'll probably fuck some shit up or somethin'. You don't have to find no city boy, anyway. You don't need no man if you don't want one—because let's be real, they still suck."
"I already...found one," Olivia whispered, wiping her face. "But I can't...have him."
She got up the courage to look at her best friend, whose face was extremely confused and surprised. But then a look of understanding began to cross her face. The look practically screamed "are you talking about who I think you're talking about?"
Olivia nodded solemnly and wiped her face, getting the stupid tears under control.
"God, I'm sorry. I can't...stop with this shit. It's annoying," she said, grabbing a makeup wipe from her desk. The makeup just needed to come right off at this point.
"Liv," Shawn said, watching her wipe all her makeup off. "Are you serious?"
"Yeah," Olivia nodded quietly.
"Him?" Shawn asked, in awe.
And without specifying a name, "him" was still so obvious. Olivia had never mentioned any other guy here in New York, aside from Huck, who was gay, and Stephen, who had a girlfriend he loved very much back in Scotland where he was from. The only other guy was one that Shawn had sworn she'd never bring up herself, because she had seen immediately that there was something there. She had heard it firsthand, actually.
"Yeah," Olivia nodded again, letting out a sniffle. "Him."
"You're...for real, right now?" Shawn asked.
"I'm for real," Olivia nodded.
"Oh my God, Liv...I didn't even..." Shawn trailed off.
"I know. I'm sorry...I didn't tell you. It's just...not something I'm proud of. But now...it's over, and I'm having a really tough time, even though I know it needed to stop. I just...needed to talk to you," she said quietly.
"Oh, Liv. Why didn't you shut me up about Marcus? My God—I am so sorry, Olivia. Now I feel like a complete asshole."
"Oh, Shawn, no—don't be sorry, it makes me happy hearing you talk about Marcus. I'm just—a fucking wreck right now because this happened this weekend. I know how much you like Marcus—that has nothing to do with this. I always want to hear about you and him," Olivia said, giving Shawn a smile.
But Shawn didn't smile back. She looked sad, and that was a rarity for her best friend. Always happy, always sassy. Not now, though.
"Liv, girl, how did...what did he do? What did he do to you?" Shawn asked, almost angrily, now.
"Oh—no, no," Olivia shook her head. "He didn't do anything. He's...he's an angel. He's just...unavailable."
But before Olivia could explain further—explain what happened this weekend, she had to explain how it all happened. All from the beginning.
Which was hard. It was hard to relive those happy moments—their flirting, their fun times, their "firsts." They didn't have all that many firsts, but there were a few to recount.
It was difficult, but some things at least brought a smile to Olivia's tear-soaked face. Because it was him.
But she grew more sad when she had to explain how it ended. That it was necessary, of course, because it should never have happened, to begin with. It was wrong, and awful.
But neither of those things made it any easier to end.
"Liv," Shawn said, wiping her eyes now too. "I am so sorry. You fooled me, you really did. I never suspected this. But I understand why you wanted to keep it quiet. Like I told you—it's safe with me. I'm just so sorry, Liv. I'm so sorry about this. This shit...it doesn't sit right with me."
Olivia gave her a brave smile and nodded, sniffling. "Thank you. And thank you for never...pushing the subject. You called it from the beginning, before I even accepted what was going on between us, myself. But you...allowing me to tell you when I was ready—I appreciate that a lot."
"Ain't no need to thank me for that," Shawn replied. "I didn't want to push you on something you didn't want to talk about. I'm just...sorry it came to this. I don't think I can be mad at anybody in this situation. But...his wife don't deserve him. I said it. I don't know a lot, but I know all I gotta know. And they don't have a marriage. They have...a contract. That's what that shit is."
"Who you're supposed to be mad at...is Fitz and me, Shawn. We were the ones who did wrong here, no matter what," Olivia said. "Now...we deal with it."
"Nah—I said what I said. This shit doesn't sit right with me. I never seen you like this in my life. I never seen...I mean, you and Russ last year...y'all weren't like this. This is so different, Liv, and I don't know if I can explain it. But I just know it is."
Olivia sniffed, wiping her face again.
"I love him," Olivia said. "You're right, this—with Fitz, was much different. Because I'm in love with him."
Shawn put her hands up to her mouth, looking with wide eyes at her camera.
"Oh—shit."
Olivia nodded. "Yeah."
"Fuck. You got me crying up in this bitch right now," Shawn sniffled, putting her hands over her eyes.
"Please don't cry, Shawn," Olivia said, letting out a little laugh. "I've done enough of it for the both of us the past few days. It's so stupid—I hate it."
"It is stupid," Shawn agreed. "I'm just fucking pissed off now. You sure I can't come up there and at least kick someone's ass?"
"I'm sure," Olivia nodded, giving her a smile. "You can kick mine, though, and get me back in line, because apparently, I need it."
Shawn sighed, shaking her head. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Stop saying you're sorry—now you're starting to sound like him," Olivia laughed.
"Well, it's true," Shawn said. "Look, girl—it sounded hard, and complicated. So maybe this is for the best right now. I'm not sayin' I don't think you two are going to end up together. 'Cause I'm telling you right now—y'all are. I don't care, I said it. But...still sounds like homeboy's got some shit to deal with on his end. That ain't your job, that's his."
"No," Olivia agreed. "It isn't. And I can't get in the way of it, either. So...you're right. We both know it's for the best, we knew that all along. Just...sucks when I still see him every day. I've been thinking about that a lot more this past weekend."
"Thinking about what?" Shawn asked.
She sighed, rubbing her eyes.
"I'm staying in New York next semester. But I can't live here anymore," she said. "I love it here, Rye is so much better than I expected it to be. It's going to be so hard for me to go and...I don't want to leave Karen. Or him. But I can't stay here—that much is obvious. Even if...we weren't done, I would have needed to leave. And now...neither of us are going to be able to move on seeing each other every day. That's not going to work."
"Oh, Liv," Shawn sighed. "Yeah. I get you. That's...that's probably the right decision to make. But I know it must be hard."
"It is," she nodded. "I have some time to...put in my preferences for dormitories, but...once I do, and...I know what I'm doing, I'll have to let the Grants know, and...my mom too. She knows that was my first choice, to begin with. She...won't be surprised. But the Grants will be, I think."
Shawn grimaced. "If...it's what you need to do, then you do it. I think...that's the best choice."
"It's my only choice," Olivia nodded sadly. No matter what, she knew that it was.
Like she'd told Fitz, she wasn't really sure what could help right now. It didn't feel like there was much that could ease the pain they'd brought on themselves.
But this was something that, in addition to it being the right thing to do, would also ease the pain in the long run.
It would be hard—because not seeing each other every day would also be difficult. But if they were really going to be able to move on, this would help.
Olivia was happy she told Shawn—it was a weight lifted off her shoulders, in a way, and she knew she had someone to talk to about it now if she needed to.
Her best friend. Someone she trusted.
She couldn't wait to see her in a little over a week for Thanksgiving break. Her flights were already booked.
But for now, on that Monday evening, she needed a little cheering up. She needed her favorite girl.
And luckily, her favorite girl wanted some guidance with her history homework, anyway.
So she went upstairs, passing happily by Fitz, who was making dinner, and Mellie, who was sorting through the mail on the kitchen island.
Her happiness was fake, of course.
But she tried her absolute best to make it real in front of Karen when she got upstairs to Karen's room.
They listened to music—the playlist Olivia always played when they were together. A compiled list of clean pop Olivia had liked when she was Karen's age, a mix of Karen's favorite songs now, and any other songs they decided to add along the way.
And one of those songs hurt. Apparently the world had it out for her today with song choices, ever since this morning.
As soon as it started to play she almost regretted introducing Karen to the Pentatonix, and wanted to turn it off. But she didn't, because the song was beautiful. It would forever remind her of Fitz now—no matter which of the multiple versions she heard.
"Hallelujah."
Karen hummed along while she was writing.
Olivia had homework of her own she could be focusing on, but right then and there, she was focusing on the lyrics of the song.
The lyrics that she could never fully interpret herself. Full of biblical references, but many references to sin, sex, and love, too.
There were both good and bad "hallelujahs" and each were important. That was always what Olivia had gotten from Leonard Cohen's meaning behind it.
The song just felt personal now—some of the lyrics hitting harder than they probably should.
She remembered the lines Fitz had sung to her in his car. The lines about a woman becoming a man's weakness—physically and emotionally—as he had fallen in love with her. Thus—tying him to the kitchen chair, breaking his throne and cutting his hair. She would think about that a lot.
And she would especially think about the lines in the third verse. Love is not a victory march.
Yeah, it certainly didn't feel like one.
No, Leonard Cohen had been right when he wrote the many interchangeable verses to the song. It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah. That sounded more accurate. Cold and broken.
With everything so fresh, that was exactly how she would describe how she felt. She knew they had made the right decision. She didn't regret it. She even knew it would get better, because time did heal.
But that didn't mean she wasn't hurting now. She could hide it as much as she wanted in front of Karen and Mellie, and even Fitz to an extent. She could hide it in front of her friends in New York, and to her mother over the phone.
But no matter what was "right," or what needed to happen—inside, she was feeling like that verse.
Broken.
Alright, friends. I hope you are all staying safe and healthy.
And just know, it's going to get worse before it gets better. Some patience may be required. But as I've assured you—there's no need to worry. The decisions they must make are just unfortunately not light ones.
Both definitely have some things to figure out. And at least, both have friends they can turn to about it. That is most definitely a step in the right direction—confessions, confessions...
Next chapters will be telling.
As always, stay safe.
Read on,
~T