Author's Note: First time writing, but always a reader. This story is about forgiveness. Not everything is as it seems and I ask that you read with an open mind. This was heavily inspired by one of my favorite books.

"I can't do this anymore."

Olivia lifted her head from the stacks of paper in front of her and she frowned. In front of her stood her boyfriend of nearly three years, Curtis Pryce. "Can't do what?" she asked. The confusion on her face was more than apparent.

"Be the only one in this relationship." Curtis responded. His dark eyes were wide, pleading. "I love you, Olivia, but I don't think you love me. Do you love me?"

She studied his frame. His shoulders were bowed and lines gathered around his eyes and mouth. Quite frankly, he looked tired. Olivia didn't have to wonder why. Matter of fact, she was wondering why it'd taken him so long to get this point. The more she'd tried to open up to him, the less it seemed to work. For nearly two years, she'd been promising herself that she'd try, but she knew she hadn't.

"I do," Olivia answered. It was true. She did love him, but she didn't know if she loved him the way he wanted to be loved. She knew she'd been holding him at arm's length. Abby, her best friend, had tried to warn her that if she kept this up, she'd die alone, but she was used to being alone. She did well alone.

"The sad part about this, Liv, is I think that you think you do. And maybe on some level you might, but I can't keep sitting around waiting for you. I want to get married, I want to have kids, and you barely let me even touch you," he explained.

Olivia blinked, realizing for the first time since he'd come into the living room that he was carrying a suitcase. He was leaving. This wasn't a chance to talk it through, this wasn't an ultimatum. This was the end. Part of Olivia felt melancholy at the thought, the other part of her was just fine. Well, mostly fine.

You barely let me even touch you. The words stung. They felt pointed. Precise. The exact thing he knew to say to hurt her. "This is because we don't have sex more?"

Curtis looked taken aback. He shook his head. "It's not just sex, Olivia. It's the lack of intimacy. It's like you have this force field around your heart. You won't let me hold you. You barely even let me hold your hand. I just want to be with you and —"

"And you are!" she defended. She was fighting, but she didn't know for what really. It just felt innate to fight. To argue. It felt safe. A feeling she didn't have often and hadn't truly known since that fateful night all those years ago.

"I'm not and it's fine. I thought I could be the one to heal you, but I've realized that I'm not. Maybe I was wrong to think I could fix you to begin with."

Olivia opened her mouth to speak, but stopped short. Anger simmered below the surface. He thought he'd be the one to heal her? Ha. No one could heal her. She wasn't broken any more. She was fine. Just fine.

"So he just packed his stuff and left?" Abby asked across the conference table.

On the other side, Olivia nodded. "He said he was sick of trying to heal me. He said he couldn't even touch me." Venom filled Olivia's mouth. A day later and she was still affronted. He thought he could heal her? She didn't need anyone to heal her.

"Heal you? I thought you took him with you to see your therapist. To discuss how to be in a relationship with someone who's experienced —"

"We did. He did." Olivia interrupted, voice low. They were still at work. She didn't need other people to know what had happened. She barely wanted the people who did know to know.

"Then I don't get it."

"I don't either, but I don't want to keep talking about it. I'll probably die alone at this rate. I just really thought I was doing it with Curtis. He's the longest relationship I've ever had with a man if you don't count my father. He was good to me. I didn't worry about him," Olivia said. She took a deep breath in and leaned against the conference table. Her elbows ached against the wood. She hadn't slept last night after Curtis left, but rather drowned her feelings in one too many glasses of red wine. "We should probably talk shop now. The new associate starts today, doesn't he?"

Abby nodded. "We should, but we should also table our discussion for now. I'm worried about you. I think you should set up a time to talk to your therapist this week, though. I can go with you."

"Thanks, Abs, but I'm sticking to my regular therapy schedule. I don't need Curtis to heal me and I don't need my therapist further up my ass. Now, can we please get back to these depositions?" She looked down at the stack of papers in front of her, shuffling through some of them in search of nothing at all. Her mind was still stuck on Curtis; still stuck on his accusations that she lacked intimacy. She combed through the three years she spent with Curtis. They'd held hands. They'd had sex. Why wasn't that enough for him? What more did he want from her? What else was she supposed to do for him? He said he'd understood.

"Liv, are you—"

A knock on the conference room stopped Abby from finishing her sentence. They both turned their heads to find the firm receptionist Rhonda - a short, somewhat pudgy, blonde - standing in the doorway.

"Hey you two," Rhonda called out. "Just wanted to introduce you to our new associate. Thomas Grant," she stepped aside, motioning for Thomas to step in.

Olivia stood, ready to extend her hand to this Thomas Grant, but instead had to force her knees not to buckle. Her eyes met his and she could feel her stomach retch. It'd been nearly five years since she'd last laid eyes on him. Back then, he'd gone by his first name, not by his middle.

"Olivia," Fitz spoke. "Wow, I didn't know you worked here. Long time no see." He held out a hand for her to take.

She let out a sardonic laugh and bypassed his outstretched hand, nearly blazing a path to her office. Abby's muffled heels pounded the ground behind her. When Olivia reached her office, she let the door fall shut behind her. Her heart constricted inside her chest and she fought hard to keep her breathing even. This was not happening. He wasn't here. No. He was where she'd left him, hundreds of miles up the coast. Hundreds of miles away from where she'd been broken beyond reassembly. He'd seen it and he'd done nothing. And she'd thought he was her friend. Try as hard as she might, Olivia could feel her spirit pulling away from her body. She was floating. Hovering. Trying to stop herself from going back to that night. The bed. Her hair stuck to her bottom lip. His knee digging into her thigh, breath hot against her ear. The sound of the door handle turning and Fitz's voice, "Shit man, my bad, I didn't know you were busy."

A knock on her office door jolted Olivia back into her body. The cool wood of her office door was a nice reprieve to the heat that engulfed her body and the strangely cold sweat that dripped down her back.

"Who is it?" she called, taking a step back.

The handle turned and the door moved forward, prompting Olivia to take a step back. It was Abby.

"Hey, what the hell happened back there?" Abby asked, stepping inside and letting the door fall closed behind her.

"That's not Thomas Grant — the new associate. That's Fitzgerald Thomas Grant III."

"Holy shit. The California governor's son? Why's he going by Thomas Grant? He'd be partner in a second if Kiefer knew who was. "

Olivia nodded. "He didn't like to be trapped under his father's name. Yeah, we went to law school together. Well, before I left Yale and transferred to Georgetown."

"Okay, that can't be why you had that reaction back there. You went from looking like you'd seen a ghost to Usain bolting it out of there like your suspicions were confirmed." Abby said. "Did you two date or something?"

"I thought we were friends. We flirted here and there. Made out a few times, but I was wrong about it. I was so wrong about him."

"I'm not following you here, Liv."

"He was there the night — the night I was attacked. He apologized to Jake for interrupting us."

AN: So what did Fitz do?