Fitz held his phone up to his ear, his hand shaking slightly as he spoke to his girlfriend.
"Are you sure this is...are we sure this is what we should do?" he asked again. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
He'd been talking on the phone with Olivia ever since he'd been done with dinner. To calm themselves and talk things out again. Because tonight was the night.
It had all happened so fast, getting to the moment he was at now. Just this morning he still wasn't sure when or how he was going to tell his wife about Olivia.
But recent events had pushed him to the edge, and he physically couldn't take it anymore. Lying about where he was going and who he was going to see weighed on him. Perhaps that aspect of it was selfish — but he didn't want to feel anxious about her not knowing anymore. He knew telling her would come with a whole new level of anxiety, but that was going to have to happen at some point, anyway. She would have to know eventually, regardless.
And no matter when she found out, there would be risks. One thing he'd learned from his job, was that everything in the world had some type of risk. It was his job to think about them, and combat them. Plan. Prepare. Analyze. And although this situation wasn't exactly one he wanted to treat like he treated his work, he'd still gone through all the potential risks in his head.
The things Mellie could do, if she so truly desired to. But with each possible thing she could do, also came a good counter reason not to.
She could potentially try and do something to hurt Olivia. But she knew Karen's love for Olivia was strong. Everyone knew that. That alone would be strong enough to keep her from doing something stupid that would get back to Karen. But it wasn't just that.
Mellie liked Olivia, and had an immense amount of respect for her. Tonight's news may put a damper on that. But it would never erase the things Mellie knew to be true about her and the kind of person she was.
Another thing Mellie could try and do was get in the way of Olivia's education. But if she wanted to keep their good standing in the CITYterm program for Karen's opportunities later, that would mean keeping silent about this was in everyone's best interest.
And aside from Olivia, Mellie could just try and live with the fact that he'd cheated on her, and betrayed her. She could push it aside, because of her desire to keep up the image they had.
Or, her pride would get the best of her and she'd be too proud to do that, knowing what she knew.
He'd laid out all the risks, and refuted them all hundreds of times in his head now. A work routine. But risks were risks for a reason. There was no telling what would truly happen. There was only so much he could try and predict.
But what he did know for sure, was that his wife's intentions were good. Her views on some things weren't always agreeable with him. She didn't treat him the greatest and she definitely had a sassy and jealous side to her. But she wasn't some monster, out to get people. Aside from their relationship, because Lord knew how toxic that had become, she was a kind woman. A kind woman who did everything she thought was right for her daughter.
So, with no clear path as to where tonight would lead, he still knew this was all he had left.
He'd already taken a risk once. He'd told Olivia he loved her, back when he had zero idea as to how he was going to get out of this mess or what he was going to do. He'd taken that risk, and it had paid off. So tonight, he was taking another one.
Olivia wasn't the reason this all needed to end. But he just wanted to be honest for once. He wanted to stop with the lying and pretending. He wanted no more secrets — not with Mellie or with Karen.
Secrets tore people apart. That, he had evidence of.
He just needed to do something, because his attempts recently had been draining. It had taken a long time for him to come to the conclusion that they needed to divorce. So he sure as hell wasn't going to wait another ten years for her to finally see it, too.
He wasn't going to continue to try and have these conversations constantly with zero promise in sight of it actually succeeding, meanwhile hiding from the entire world with Olivia. Not to mention, risking someone else finding out and telling Mellie first.
So he didn't know what else to do. He felt cornered, and he had no other cards to play — especially when Mellie always reverted back to what she knew during their fights. It felt like insanity; Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different outcome.
This was his last card. His last attempt at getting through to her, that things were changing and needed to continue to change. He knew it would produce a different outcome. He just didn't know what kind of outcome, and he didn't know to what extent.
But this gave them their first step toward freedom.
And he knew tonight was as good a time as any to break the news. Karen was away at a sleepover, so there weren't any worries there. Mellie would be home in about fifteen minutes from her late shift. So there Fitz was, talking things out with Olivia as he sat on the living room couch, drink in hand.
Olivia, the kind, amazing, smart woman, who he'd fallen for. The woman who was keeping him together. The woman who cared so much that she had agreed to this plan almost immediately, because she couldn't bear to see him hold so much stress and anxiety on his shoulders, and she knew this would be a big weight off of both of them.
She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve any of this. And he didn't deserve her.
"Baby," she said gently. "If this is our plan, we should stick to it."
"I know, I know. I'm just..." he said, taking a deep breath. "I want to make sure you really want this before I do it. This is...a big step, and it can't be undone when I finally take it. And...if you were having second thoughts, I wouldn't."
"I know that," she nodded gently. "Fitz, to tell you the truth...I don't want this. I'm terrified of what is going to happen, and I'm terrified of how people will look at me differently, and...who this will hurt, once people know. Once she knows. I don't want all this...stress, and worry. But you know what? You know what I did the second I kissed you back last year? I made this choice. Willingly."
He sighed, rubbing his temples. Trying to get the headache to go away, even though that probably was not going to happen.
"And if I made this choice, I deserve to be terrified. I deserve much worse than that. Whatever happens...happens. You asked if I wanted this. This situation...no. I don't think anyone wants this situation. I don't think anyone wants to be having the conversation we're having right now, while we're waiting for your wife to get home. But what I do want is you," she said. "I want you. So...whatever happens...however we get there, in the end, it doesn't matter to me. Because I just want you."
He took a shaky breath, sitting there with his eyes closed. "I don't know how you do this. And I'm so sorry you have to. You don't deserve this. Any of this."
"Fitz," she said. "You...put me up on this pedestal sometimes. Telling me...how amazing I am, and what I do and don't deserve. But...I got involved with a married man. A married man with a daughter, in his own house. I fell in love with him, and developed a good relationship with his daughter...and wife, for that matter. I appreciate the kind things you say to me, but...I do deserve this. I deserve everything we've gone through and are going through. Because I made a choice, and that choice was not an honorable one."
"Yes, but you didn't make the choice alone. I made it too. You just...you are dealing with so much else right now. You have so much ahead of you. You don't...you shouldn't have to deal with this."
"Fitz. Are you trying to talk yourself out of this now?" she asked.
He sighed. "No. Yes — maybe. I don't...I don't know."
"You know what our plan is. You know what you want to do, and you know Mellie better than anybody else. Only you know what's best here. So don't let anything else sway what your gut says to do," she said. "I'm with you, always."
He nodded more confidently. He knew. There was no sense in second-guessing now, because they'd made the decision. This was happening.
"I will protect you, Liv. I need you to know that if it came to it, I will do whatever it takes to protect you. No matter what happens," he said.
"Thank you. I know that," she nodded. "And I'll be here. Whether you want to call or not later, I'll be here."
"Okay," he replied. "I should...I should probably go. She should be here in a few minutes. When I can, I'll keep in touch."
"Okay. Good luck," she said. "I love you, Fitz."
"I love you, too. Bye, Livvie," he said. He tried not to let her hear the fact that he was nervous as he said goodbye to her.
He hung up the phone after she said goodbye back, and he took a deep breath. He needed to keep taking deep breaths, because he sure as hell didn't need to freak himself out right now. He'd had enough of that shit for one day.
The drink helped him out a little bit at least. Probably not the best way to keep himself calm, but it slowed everything down inside. And he needed all the help he could get, because even with the liquor in his system, his mind was racing.
He went over his plan again. He wasn't going to just come out and say it immediately. He was going to start another conversation, and see where it led first before he just shouted out that he was in love with someone else.
But his goal by the end of the evening was for her to know.
His plan didn't entail revealing Olivia's name immediately. He assumed though, that he would be asked the question, no matter how she reacted to the news.
The only bit of happiness he felt before Mellie got home was Hank, snuggling his way up onto the living room couch by him.
He wasn't supposed to be on the living room furniture, but Fitz didn't really give a damn at the moment. He just pet Hank's head and scratched behind his ears, wishing for a brief moment that he had a carefree life like little Hank did.
When Mellie got home, she drudged tiredly into the kitchen, putting all her bags down on the counter and looking over at Fitz.
She looked tired. She'd had a long shift that day, that was for sure. She eyed him briefly and then smiled slightly at Hank.
"Uh-oh. Looks like mister Hank is breaking some rules over there," Mellie said.
Fitz didn't say anything, he just looked down at Hank and continued to pet him, debating his best way to begin the conversation.
"Should I be worried about what number drink that is?" Mellie asked coldly, unloading her cooler that she'd packed her dinner in for work.
"It's my first one," Fitz answered quietly, looking up at her.
"Well, would you look at that, good news," she sighed, putting her things away. "Have you just been sitting there all night in the quiet? No TV, or book?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"Oh God," Mellie sighed. "What now?"
"I'd like to talk to you," he said.
"I already told you I'm done with these conversations," she replied.
"You did. But this one needs to happen," he said.
"I don't have the patience for it anymore, Fitz. I'm done," she said annoyedly.
He wanted to say "how do you think I feel?"
But he didn't. Instead, he pressed on.
"This is going to happen, Mell," he stated. "Whether...you want to believe it or not. It will happen."
Now she did turn to him. But she just rolled her eyes and laughed.
"And why would you possibly think that? You're a smart man. And I've told you over and over again, that my mind won't change."
"Yes, you have," he agreed.
"So why would you think my mind would change?" she snapped back, putting her hands on her hips.
"Because mine did. And at one point, I thought the same thing you did. At one point...I was just as stubborn about this as you are, thinking there was no way in hell we could have made the wrong decision."
"Ahh, right. We've always been on the same page. And then because of something K said one night, you all of a sudden started talking divorce."
"Um...yes? Hearing our 10-year-old tell me that she thought we pretended...for her sake? That...she wondered if I was sad because you and I are never happy together? You're damn right that's going to change my fucking perspective. She's the one we did all of this for — so of course I'm going to start thinking twice, Mellie."
"No, you're overthinking, is what you're doing," she replied.
"No. I'm not, not at all."
"You know what, you're right — you're just being ridiculous. And irrational. Those are more fitting descriptions, I think."
"Me? I'm being irrational? Oh my God, Mellie. Listen to yourself! Do you ever hear what you're saying?"
"Are you kidding me? Do you ever hear what you're saying? You sit there and talk about...divorce and...fucking fantasies of love and happiness on the other side, when life doesn't work that way! Life is what it is! We had a child — you make sacrifices for your children, Fitz! You don't spin fantasies! Because we live in reality. And this is our reality," she said, stepping closer to him in the living room now.
"I do not spin fantasies, and this doesn't have to be our reality," he said. "It could be so much better than this — for all three of us. You do make sacrifices for your kids, yes...but you don't have to sacrifice your own...happiness? You don't have to sacrifice your whole life?That's not right either, and it's not good for any of us."
"We aren't sacrificing our whole lives?" she questioned. She looked at him like he was insane.
"Yes, we are!" he exclaimed, standing up.
"See, okay, you know what I want to know? I want to know why this isn't enough for you now. I want to know why you think this is us sacrificing our whole lives. You've got the perfect life, Fitz. Don't you realize that? Our daughter has a good head on her shoulders. She has two healthy parents — married parents. We live in a beautiful house in a beautiful town, a perfect distance from the city. She goes to a wonderful school, and has endless opportunities ahead. Money's never been an issue and never will be. This is the life so many dream about. And it's not fucking enough for you?"
"No! It's fucking not! I want her to grow up in a healthy, happy environment. A healthy environment is a hell of a lot different than two healthy parents creating an environment that they pretend is a happy one," he said.
She rolled her eyes, completely disregarding what he had said.
"And yeah. I want to be happy too, Mellie. Forgive me for not wanting to...to settle anymore in my own life with a woman I don't love and who despises me. I want..."
"What? What do you want, my sweet Fitz? Please tell me all of your fairytale hopes and dreams," she said, inching closer to him as the conversation grew more heated.
He was growing angrier by the minute, trying not to let her get to him. It wouldn't help the situation if he let that happen. But she was relentless. And it was getting real old.
But she was giving him an in, too. This was exactly the kind of chance he'd been waiting for, and she'd given it to him. If he was going to do it, this was going to be the time to drop the bomb. But his mind was racing; racing too fast for him to say anything at that moment. So of course, she had a hay day with his brief silence.
"Oh, look, you got shy on me again. Come on, honey, don't stop there. Let's hear it! You've got me all interested now!" she exclaimed.
"Stop," he said firmly, looking at her angrily.
"Oh, good, he speaks again. Come on, I want to hear it, Fitz. What is it that you want so badly? What is it that you don't have — that you need? What's your fantasy?"
All he had to do was say it. All he had to do was say her name.
"It isn't a fantasy," he said firmly. "For any of us."
"You just don't quit, do you," she said, locking eyes with him and crossing her arms.
"I never will. Never."
"Why? Why are you so difficult? You never used to be this difficult? Even if K somehow...adapted to our divorce, what is it that you think would be so much better for you and your life? Sit by yourself every day because you're afraid to talk to anyone else? You haven't even been able to answer the question!"
"I wouldn't be alone."
"Oh, right, right, well K would be there half the time, of course," she said sarcastically. "But the other half? I just want to hear the elaborate plan you seem to have been creating in your head all this time. It's so curious to me, baby, truly."
"Even if I had absolutely no plan at all for my life, it would be better than this," he replied angrily.
"Well that's just pathetic," she laughed.
He was so mad now, firing back at her without a second thought.
"Your version of life is pathetic, not mine. All I want to do is stop pretending, for all our sakes. I'm...I don't want to pretend anymore. I'm done, I want something real."
He was so close to saying it.
"We have a family. That's what's real! Pretending is what's real, because everyone does it! You keep spinning these fantasies about things you want but nobody ever actually has!"
And that was it for him. He'd held off before, but now it was coming out of his mouth before he could even stop it. He wanted to scream at her, that she was so close-minded and just plain wrong.
And he did scream at her. But it wasn't about her close-mindedness.
"I have something real! Stop telling me it's a fucking fantasy and that nobody ever actually gets it — because I already fucking have it!" he screamed.
Hank jumped off the couch and trotted away from the living room, probably afraid of all the yelling going on.
And then Mellie's facial expression changed yet again. He'd hit another point that he'd not yet reached with her, and he knew it.
Because she looked completely and utterly confused. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked at him strangely.
"What the hell does that mean?" she asked rudely.
No going back now.
He sighed, meeting her eyes again. They were standing so close to each other, having just been yelling at the top of their lungs.
But now the room was silent. Both of them were quiet, as her question hung in the air.
He knew he couldn't stay silent for long. Because she was standing there confused, and waiting for an answer.
"I already have something real," he repeated quietly, looking straight back into her eyes.
She took a deep breath and looked at him more questioningly again.
"You're lying," she said, shaking her head.
"I'm not," he said. "I'm not lying, Mellie."
"Are we on the same page here?" she laughed. "You're telling me...you've been...fucking around? Is that what you're telling me right now?"
"I'm telling you that I'm in love with someone else," he replied. "I'm saying that what we have is real."
She looked at him in awe, and shook her head. "Are you...playing some sort of weird joke?"
"No," he said firmly. "I'm telling you the truth, because you deserve to know. And I've kept it a secret for too long."
She was in utter disbelief. She stood there, shaking her head at him.
It was a similar reaction he'd gotten from Abby. Disbelief, that he would do something like this. That part he could have expected. But what would follow, he wasn't sure.
"So...you're telling me that you have...a mistress?" Mellie asked.
"Girlfriend," he corrected.
She shook her head, looking at him with the kind of smile that wasn't happy. The smile that displayed a sense of disbelief. And she paired it with the kind of slight chuckle and scoff that you could hear the pain behind.
"So...for months, you've been talking to me about divorce for Karen's sake. When in reality...you just have...a secret whore that you want to be with?"
"Watch your mouth," he said firmly. "No. I want to get a divorce for all of our sakes, especially Karen's. She and I weren't even together when Karen said what she said that night. She isn't the reason. But yeah, Mell, I'd be lying if I said I don't want to be with her freely out in the open. I do."
"You son of a bitch," Mellie spat at him. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? We have a fucking child together, Fitz. And this is what you do when times get tough?" she yelled.
"I didn't intend for it to happen. It was not something I planned. I pushed it away for months before it happened, and so did she. I didn't do it for any reason other than the fact that I fell in love with her, and she fell in love with me," he said calmly.
"Oh — so is that supposed to make it all okay?" Mellie asked angrily.
"No," he replied, shaking his head. "What I did will never be okay. But I don't regret it."
She looked at him disgustedly, shaking her head. And then an awful idea seemed to hit her, because her eyes got wide and her look of disgust grew stronger.
"Oh my God, has she been in our house?" Mellie asked.
He swallowed nervously, but nodded at her.
"Yes."
Mellie's eyes widened further and she looked at him like he was the worse person she'd ever laid eyes on.
"Who is it?" she asked firmly. She could barely get her angry question out after hearing that this woman had, indeed, been in their home.
He prepared himself, taking a deep breath as he looked at her.
"Who is she?" Mellie asked again angrily.
He was about to reveal her identity, but Mellie's anger had just about boiled over, and she interrupted him.
"It's her, isn't it?" Mellie nodded. "All these years, you told me there was no reason for me to dislike her. All these years, and all the fights we had every time you went to see her. And here she is, causing more problems in our marriage."
There was only one woman she could have possibly been talking about.
"Abby?" Fitz questioned. "Oh my God, Mellie. Abby is not the cause of any of our marital problems. That would be us, and us only. It's been 11 years, you need to let that shit go. She hasn't ever done anything to you, and I have not been seeing her, my God. She's like...my sister."
"Bullshit," Mellie shot back.
"It's not bullshit —"
"Looks like she's got some explaining to do to her husband, too. Clearly you both don't care that you're fucking married."
"It's not Abby. Why the hell would I tell you I'm done pretending and that I'm seeing someone, and then lie to you about who she is?"
"Then who the fuck is it?!" Mellie yelled.
Fitz took a deep breath and fidgeted with his hands in his pockets. He was definitely nervous now. But he needed to be calm when he spoke her name. He needed to be calm and collected, because he hadn't done a good job of that so far.
"Olivia, Mell," he said quietly. "It's Olivia."
If he thought he'd seen confusion on Mellie's face before, he had no idea what he was in for. She looked at him beyond astonished now.
"What did you just say?" Mellie asked.
"You heard what I said," he nodded calmly.
"Oh...I heard you. I'm simply wondering if I'm crazy or if I heard you correctly," Mellie said. "Olivia...Pope?"
"Yes," Fitz nodded. He wasn't shying away now. He was standing there in front of his wife, fully in his truth.
For the first time.
"You...can't be serious."
"Oh, I'm very serious," he nodded.
"Olivia Pope. The girl that...lived in our basement for half a year?" Mellie began, thinking deeply. "The girl that you took into the city every single fucking day, but barely said a Goddamn word to? The girl that...our own fucking daughter loves and looks up to?!"
He sighed. "Yes."
It happened before he even saw it coming. He could see the angry look she had on her face. He could see the immense pain and betrayal behind those eyes, after hearing the true identity of the woman he had gone behind her back with.
But he didn't see her hand come up.
It happened quickly. She slapped him across his left cheek; hard.
He wasn't expecting it, but it was sure quite a slap. His head whipped to his right, and pain immediately radiated across his face. A strong, stinging pain. That was going to leave a mark.
But he didn't touch his face or say anything, he just turned back to her in full acceptance that he absolutely deserved that, and continued to listen to her scream at him.
"An 18-year-old girl?!" Mellie screamed. "In our own house?! The house our daughter lives in?!"
"I'm not proud of it," Fitz admitted. "It shouldn't have happened this way. We both knew that."
"An 18-year-old girl," Mellie said again, in disbelief. "You are...12 years older than that girl."
"She's not a girl, she's a woman," Fitz said. "And don't stand there and act like Olivia is anything less than an intelligent, accomplished, adult. Don't act like she isn't one of the most put together, mature women you know. What was it that you said to me, just a couple weeks ago? 'Don't you dare act like age means a damn thing.' Right? Or does that only apply to situations and people you want it to apply to?"
She opened her mouth in awe at him and shook her head. He honestly thought he was going to get smacked again, but he didn't.
"You've got to be kidding me right now. You're going to stand there defending your decision to fuck her in our house — under the same roof our daughter lives? Really?"
"That didn't happen," he shook his head.
"What didn't? What didn't happen?" she asked angrily.
"I didn't fuck her in our house," he replied.
"I'm supposed to believe that?!" she exclaimed.
"I did not...fuck her...here," he said again. He at least wanted that much to be clear, because that was 100 percent true.
"Ohhhh, my oh my, well look at you! That makes up for it then, doesn't it?" she asked. "What are you going to tell me next? That you've never fucked her?"
He looked at her with a straight face, but said nothing.
"Yeah. That's what I thought," Mellie shot back. "You wanted me to believe from the get-go that you were actually pissed off that she was staying with us? That she was such a hindrance to your everyday routine? All while you and her were secretly doing God knows what. In our own house, Fitz. Our own house."
"I was never pissed off, and I never said any of those things. Nothing ever happened between us from the get-go," he said, shaking his head. "But it still happened, and it wasn't right. I know that. We know that."
She shook her head at him in disgust. "All those weekends I left with Karen. All those late-night shifts that I had. All those nights you watched your little show with her, alone in the basement."
He, again, said nothing.
"It's...funny," she began, giving her fake, pained chuckle again. "Men look at me nonstop when I'm out and about. When I'm at work. Everywhere. Men like me; they respond to me. But I've never once strayed, because we had a fucking deal, Fitz. We do what we need to do for her. And that sure as hell didn't include fucking other people. Let alone 18-year-olds who stay in our home. Do you know...how many men I could have had throughout our marriage, Fitz, if I was a cheating bastard like you?"
He swallowed hard again, raising his eyebrows at her.
"Too many to count. But they could never have me. Because I have a family. Or so...I thought I did. Turns out my shy, quiet husband is just as slutty as the rest of them," she said quietly. "Turns out...the man I thought I would never have to worry about...proved me wrong."
He elected to, again, not say anything to that, so they stood there in silence before she spoke up again.
"How long?" she asked quietly.
He exhaled quietly. "Does it matter?"
"Yes, it matters. Answer the damn question."
"Last fall," Fitz answered honestly.
"Oh, wonderful, and how long before that were you thinking about her? How long before that did you two want it to happen?" Mellie asked.
He cleared his throat. "Since...a couple days after we met," he answered honestly again.
Mellie scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief.
"I never...would have imagined this. I never would have thought to be worried about you, of all people, and the 18-year-old girl I brought home. I never would have imagined that you would be so disgusting," Mellie said.
"She has a name," he said.
"I...brought her into our home. I practically wrapped up a smart, pretty little whore for you and tied a bow on top, didn't I?" she asked.
"Do not talk about her like that," he snapped. "Attack me all you want — but leave her out of it."
"Aww, look at you. Defending her. The girl I thought...you really never spoke to," Mellie said, looking like her mind was wandering off. "Oh, but you've spoken to her alright. You've done much more to her than that, haven't you, baby."
"That's enough," he nodded.
"No, see, the pieces are beginning to fall into place. It's all starting to make sense to me now. Why she left. Why you can't bear to sleep in our bed anymore, let alone have sex with me. Why...you can't stand it when I call you stupid little nicknames. Someone else has been calling you baby...huh, baby?" she asked quietly.
There was pain and betrayal written all over her face.
So he stood there and took in all of it. He deserved every bit of this conversation. Every insult, every rude comment, everything. He swallowed hard, looking down at her. Meeting her pained eyes.
"I can't believe...you had me fooled for months," she said quietly, looking at him in question. "You had us all fooled."
"I didn't want that to be the case anymore. We want...we wanted you to know. Because you deserve to," he said, looking down at her. "And you deserve to feel it too, Mell. You deserve to have something real, too. And K should be able to see that. She should be able to see us both happy. She should know the truth too. Because right now, she knows we aren't happy."
She looked at him in disbelief, shaking her head.
"You needed to know this, but...it's not about her, Mellie. She's part of the reason I'm happy and...going to be happy. But she's not the reason you and I need to be done. This is between you and I, and nobody else. It always has been. And we've been lying for way too long. It's time to be done. It's...time to move on. We will all be better off because of it."
He saw the tears threatening to spill out of her eyes and the pain on her face as she looked at him with anger.
"Get out."
He wasn't expecting that. At least not at the moment.
"What?" he asked.
"Get. Out," she said again firmly.
"Mellie," he began, watching her shake her head again at him. "Can we just — "
"Get the fuck out of my house!" she screamed, at the top of her lungs.
He flinched, hearing her voice that loud and that strained.
He lingered there, looking down at his wife. The pain and the anger in her eyes, much more visible now, as the tears spilled out.
He had caused that.
He let out a quiet breath, and tore his eyes away from her, making his way to their bedroom to pack a bag.
Mellie sat down on the couch and put her hands up to her face; he saw it out of the corner of his eye as he made his way upstairs.
He mindlessly packed a bag, rummaging through all his clothes, and everything in their bathroom.
He hoped he had everything he could have needed, but he had no idea. He had no idea how long he was supposed to leave for, he had no idea where he was going to go. But this would just have to do.
He passed by the living room with his bag slung over his shoulder, seeing Mellie on the couch hunched over, Hank next to her again now.
No other words were exchanged before he left that house.
He got in his car and didn't think twice as he pulled out of the driveway. The only thing was, he had no idea where to go. He was just thankful he'd only had half a drink and was perfectly fine to drive.
He began by driving around Rye, wondering if he should hop on the train to the city or just head right to a hotel in Rye.
But he didn't want to be alone. And he didn't want to burden anybody else. So he called the one woman he knew would pick up the phone for him no matter what. The one woman he knew he could never be a bother to. And the one woman who didn't need to know everything in order to help.
She helped by just being her.
So after he hung up with her, he headed neither to the train station nor to a hotel in Rye. Instead, he began his drive, one that would take a little while.
He was fairly calm. Calmer than he anticipated he would be.
But to get through the drive, he put on music that reminded him of Olivia, and he didn't think about or focus on anything except the lyrics, and the road.
And he drove.
When he pulled into the long driveway, he felt a sense of relief. The sense of relief and content he always felt when he arrived there.
He let himself in through the front door, and the scent of home filled his nose. Not only that, but a comforting voice filled his ears.
"My boy?" the voice asked loudly.
He could tell she was hurrying to the front entryway.
And he took a deep breath. "Mom."
She came into the entryway, wearing a silky pair of pajamas and a worried look on her face.
She took in the sight of him, still in his full suit from the work day, and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
And overall, he probably didn't look the best, so he was thankful for the dim lighting in the entryway.
His dress shirt under his jacket having once been perfectly ironed this morning, was now pretty wrinkled. He knew his eyes had slight bags under them from lack of sleep. He'd had an attack this morning, and having an attack always seemed to take a physical toll on his body; he looked more stressed, more tired.
Not to mention he was pretty sure his left cheek was still beet red from being slapped just about out of his shoes earlier.
"Oh, Fitzgerald," she said, coming immediately to hug him.
He smiled slightly and wrapped his tiny mother in a huge huge, leaning down to kiss her cheek.
No matter what, it was always good to see his mother. It was always good to give her a big hug.
"Sorry for the late call," he said, patting her back affectionately.
"Oh, nonsense. It's never too late for you," she said, pulling back to look at him. "You're always welcome to stay here and you know it. This will always be your home."
"Thanks, mom. I...really appreciate that," he nodded.
She grabbed the sides of his arms and studied him head to toe.
The way mothers always studied their children. With concern, worry, and a little bit of curiosity.
He hadn't told her much on the phone, only that something had happened, and that he wondered if it would be too much trouble if he were to spend the night there.
"How bad is it, my dear boy," she stated quietly.
He sighed, looking around the grand entryway of his childhood home. "I'm not sure, mom. I'm really...not sure."
She nodded silently and started to take his duffle bag from him. "Well come on then, we'll have some coffee, you and I. Decaf, of course, because from the looks of you, you don't need any more caffeine."
"Yeah, that's...probably a fair assumption," he agreed. "Mom, you don't need to take my bag, I've got it."
"Oh you shush," she said, taking his bag anyway. "Go on and sit in the breakfast nook, I'll be there in a minute."
He sighed, watching her take his bag not down to the basement, where he usually slept with his family. But up to his old bedroom.
In typical Jean fashion.
He removed his shoes, coat, and suit jacket, leaving them in the entryway before he headed into the breakfast nook.
He was met with another wave of comfort as he entered the kitchen and sitting area. Home.
The feeling could never really be replaced, or described. It was just good. And he needed that right now.
She came back down, and started to get their coffee ready. She brewed a fresh carafe of decaf for the two of them. And only when she sat down next to him at the table, in the good kitchen lighting, could she see him better.
All the stress, anxiety, worry, and sleep deprivation from this past week. He honestly felt better now than he had all week, but he knew all the signs still lingered. Everything was written right there on his face, and in his body language.
Her hand came up to his cheek, as she examined the only red spot on his face, clearly not there by happenstance.
"She struck you," Jean said, looking over his cheek.
He chuckled lightly, removing her hand gently from his face.
"I deserved it," he said quietly, squeezing his mother's hand. "I deserve much worse than that, mom."
He took a sip of his coffee and she studied him worriedly.
"You're not sleeping," she stated.
"No I am not," he agreed, clearing his throat.
She sighed, giving him a sad look.
"When was the last time you had one?"
She didn't need to specify any more than that, he knew exactly what she was asking.
"This morning," he answered.
She looked at him even more concerned. "Related to what happened tonight?"
"Yes," he nodded, as his mother continued to run down the list.
"Meds?" she asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
"Have them, not on them," he answered.
"That needs to change, Fitzgerald," she said seriously.
Sounded like Olivia.
"I'm...working on it," he nodded.
She nodded gratefully and locked eyes with his tired ones.
"Where's Karen?" she asked.
"At a sleepover," Fitz answered. "Otherwise tonight wouldn't have happened. I mean...it would have, just...not tonight. Not with K there."
There. Now her mother had all the facts.
Well. Not all of them. But that was the thing about his mother. She understood that not everything was something he wanted to talk about. She understood that some things were better left unsaid and untouched. Despite that, he often felt like his mother knew most things anyway. Mothers almost always did — especially, his, because he had naturally always been very close to her, as she was his sole parent.
He would tell her. He wasn't sure when, but he wanted her to know the truth and he would prefer it be sooner than later.
"And...how are you feeling about what happened tonight?" Jean asked.
He sat there in thought and swallowed.
"I feel...nervous. I feel guilty. And I feel...worried," he admitted. "But I also feel a weight off my shoulders. I feel lighter. And I feel...hopeful."
Jean nodded at her son.
"Do you want to talk to me about it?" Jean asked. "Mother's give the best advice, you know."
"Yes," Fitz nodded. "And...no."
Jean chuckled lightly. "A very fair answer. I only wanted to ask. You know I won't meddle too much. But you also know I want to hear how you're doing, and am always here if you want to talk."
Fitz nodded. "To be honest with you, mom...I want to tell you. I want to talk to you about it. But I'm afraid of what it will do to you to know."
She tilted her head at him. "Fitzgerald. You are my son. My boy. There is nothing you could ever do that would make me think less of you. I know the man you are. A good man, with a kind heart. Just like your dad. I'm not saying that you can do no wrong, or that you don't deserve a good scolding sometimes," she said, pointing at him. He smiled. "But I'm saying nothing will ever change the man that you are."
"I can definitely do wrong," he agreed with a nod. "And...I did. I did something that I'm not proud of; something you wouldn't be proud of either."
She nodded, looking at him curiously. "And would you take it back, if you could?"
He studied her, and slowly shook his head. "No. I would not."
"Then I wouldn't focus too much on what you've done. We've all done things we aren't proud of, Fitzgerald," she said. "And just because we do those things doesn't mean we don't deserve happiness. It doesn't mean we can't have that."
"That's all I want," he whispered. "It's...it's all that I want, for everyone. For Karen, for Mellie, for me, for — "
He cut himself off, before saying the name of the woman he loved.
"It's all I want," he continued. "I made a few mistakes along the way, things I probably should have done differently. But...I can't say I regret anything, because these past few months have shown me the happiness I can have. That we can all have."
"And you will have it," Jean nodded. "You will get there, son."
"I hope so. It's just...easier said than done, mom," he admitted. "You don't know everything that's...happened. You don't know...how screwed up things really are in my marriage. In...my whole life at this point."
"I don't know everything," she agreed. "But I know enough. More than you probably think I do."
He looked at her skeptically, but she looked right back at him as if to say "try me." So he chuckled lightly and nodded.
"I won't doubt you on that," he said, taking a sip of his coffee.
She laughed and put her hand on his. "It's good to have you home. Even under the circumstances. And...even though I'm not at all happy that she hit you."
"Mom, I will be just fine. The mark will fade by tomorrow," he chuckled. "It's good to be home. I missed you, I always do."
"You better," she said, pointing at him. "I missed you too. However long you need to stay, dear, you are welcome to."
"Thanks, mom. I'll get out of your hair tomorrow. I'm not sure...what my plans are but I'll figure it out," he nodded.
"Do you think...you're going to go back home tomorrow?" Jean asked.
He shook his head. "I don't see that happening. The only thing is Karen is supposed to be back at some point tomorrow, so..."
"So it's complicated," Jean stated.
"It's all very complicated," he agreed.
"Do you have other people you can talk to about this? Other people in your corner who...you trust?" Jean asked.
Abby. David. Olivia. Thank God.
"Yes," he nodded.
"Good," Jean said. "That makes me feel better. How about my sweet Karen?"
Fitz sighed. "She's alright. She knows...certain things about what's going on. She doesn't know everything, but she knows enough. She's afraid to talk too much about it, I know that. But at some point, hopefully soon, we can all have a conversation together about things. She deserves that."
"I agree," Jean nodded. "There are always things you want to shield from your child. Everyone does it. But...she's smart, that one. I don't think keeping too many things from her will lead down a good path. Especially if she's already catching on."
"I know," Fitz replied. "I know. I just need...her other parent to feel the same."
Jean nodded, giving him an encouraging look.
"She will, son. She will," Jean said.
He nodded back gratefully. "Thanks for all of this, mom. I really...needed this, I think."
"Always, Fitz," she replied. "You always have my support. You're always my number one. No matter what. You know that."
"I do," Fitz nodded. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. I love you," she said.
"I love you too, mom," he replied.
He never would have imagined he had it in him to talk to his mother over a whole carafe of coffee that evening, given his tiredness and everything he'd been going through, but he did. Clearly he really did need this.
"Alright. Why don't you load up our mugs in the dishwasher. You need some sleep," she said, scooting her now empty mug toward him.
He nodded and went to put them in the dishwasher.
He adjusted his shirt, retucking it into his dress pants. His sleeves were rolled all the way up, and his tie was loose at his collar. He desperately needed to get out of those clothes — he'd been in them since 6:30 this morning.
They both went upstairs together, heading off to their separate rooms. Her, to the grand, large master bedroom. And him, to his old bedroom.
"Alright. I'll see you in the morning — I'll have coffee brewing by seven," Jean said.
"Sounds good. See you in the morning," he nodded.
"Mhm. Now you don't stay up too late," she said, pointing at him. Almost like she knew he was going to be up, talking to someone before he slept.
"I won't," he laughed. "Night, mom."
"Goodnight," she said, eyeing him.
He closed his door quietly and shook his head.
Freaky female psychic powers.
The first thing he did was strip down and out of his dress clothes — thank God. His mind wandered as he put on something more comfortable to sleep in from his duffel bag.
What he'd told his mother earlier had been true. He certainly didn't feel great. He still felt nervous, and anxious. But there was a reason he overall had been feeling okay tonight. Because there was a weight completely gone. There was uncertainty about what would happen going forward. But there was no more worrying about how Mellie could find out. No more worrying about sneaking around.
That was completely lifted. And he was on his way to no more lies at all.
He hadn't been in contact with Olivia since before he talked to Mellie, so he knew he had to at least keep her up to date on what was going on. He knew she must be waiting patiently and nervously to hear back. He certainly would be if he were her. Hopefully soon, they could talk in person so he could explain everything in detail.
He pulled out his phone and dialed her number, knowing he should speak quietly for his mother's sake. He didn't want to disturb her attempts to fall asleep.
The phone barely rang once before she picked up.
"Hello?" she greeted.
"Hi, Livvie," he answered.
"Hi. How are you? What happened? How did it go?" she asked quickly.
"Well, it went...um...it went interestingly. But...she knows everything, Liv. She knows now, and that's the main thing," he said.
"Oh God...okay. Okay," she responded. "How did...she take it?"
"Not great. Not...not well at all," he nodded. "But we expected that."
"Right. Yes," she sighed nervously. "I'm sorry you had to...do this alone, Fitz."
"Don't be. That's how it should have been. She's my wife. My responsibility."
Olivia was quiet for a few minutes before she spoke up again. "So...how long did you guys talk? What she did say? Are you just...in the basement now?"
"Not exactly, no," he answered. "We talked for a little while. She wasn't expecting it at all, which...I knew would be the case. It caught her completely off guard, and she was angry. She said...a lot of things. But all her anger was directed toward me, not you. Which, I also expected and I'm glad about. And then...she kicked me out, so...I'm at my mother's."
"What?" Olivia asked.
"Yeah," he said. "That's why I didn't call sooner. I probably should have called when I was driving here I just...it had all just happened and I needed to gather my thoughts and...focus on the road."
"I understand, Fitz. All that matters to me is that you're okay," she replied.
"I'm alright. I talked to my mom for a while. And you know how she is."
"A talker, yes," Olivia nodded.
"Yeah. I didn't disclose anything about you yet. She doesn't know everything but...she knows some things. I always feel like she knows anyway, but...I'm not sure."
"Oh my God," Olivia whispered. "Fitz, I'm so sorry."
He sighed, adjusting his phone to his ear. "I'm...I'm not, Liv. I'm not. I'm nervous, and I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen. If there was any time you'd think I was going to fucking freak out or...be triggered or something...it would be now. But I'm not. For the first time, I feel...free. She could have forced me to stay at the house. She could have said it was no big deal as long as we...I don't know, hide the truth from Karen, or something. She could have done about a million other things that she didn't do tonight. I would rather have her...get pissed at me and kick me out than any of those other things. Because...I deserved everything that happened tonight, and those were her real instincts and emotions. They were real. They weren't pretend. And...that's what I want. I want her to choose real, and tonight she did. So...maybe I sound crazy, but...I have more hope, after tonight. I have more hope that everything awful that happened tonight will be the breakthrough that we needed."
"It doesn't sound crazy," Olivia said. "I understand. I feel terrible about it all. But I know in my heart this is what needed to happen."
"Yes," he nodded in agreement. "Me too."
"So you're doing okay then? You're feeling okay about things?" she asked.
"I'm alright," he nodded. "Stressed. But alright. Now how are you, is the more important question?"
"Oh, I don't know about more important," she said. "I'm doing okay. I was just worried about you, and...how things were going."
"I know. I'm sorry about this. I'm sorry that you have to feel this way. I'm sorry about everything," he replied. "You don't deserve it."
"You don't either," she said. "And if you say you do — then so do I. We're in this together."
He sighed, wanting to fight back at that. Because it was different. It just was. She could handle things just as well as anybody else could — if not better. But this wasn't her responsibility to deal with and she still did. But he knew she wouldn't have it if he argued with her, so he let it go.
"I miss you," he said quietly. "Feels like it's been forever since this morning."
"I miss you too," she replied. "Do you know what your plans are for tomorrow?"
"No," he answered. "I'm not sure. I want to give her space. But...Karen's supposed to come home, so...I'm not sure what Mellie will want to do."
"Yeah, I get that," Olivia replied. "Well...Greta has plans tomorrow with friends. I'm not sure what time, but if for some reason you were able to, you could come here. I always love to see you and I'd like to. Especially...right now."
He smiled. "I always love to see you, too. How about we both keep each other updated then. Sound good?"
"Sounds good. You want to...try and get to sleep?" Olivia asked.
He sighed. "Probably. I wouldn't want my mother finding out I'm staying up past my bedtime."
She started to giggle, which then made him laugh too.
"We definitely don't want to upset Jean," Olivia agreed. "I know it's hard, but try and sleep. And...maybe we'll see each other tomorrow."
"I hope so," he nodded. "I hope you get some sleep, too. I love you, Olivia. So much."
"I love you too," she replied. "Goodnight, Fitz."
"Goodnight."
He hung up the phone and plugged it into his charger. Thank God he remembered to pack that.
And then he tried his best to fall asleep, using hopeful thoughts to get him there.
Go ahead and read the next part!