She was sitting in her cream-coloured sofa, a cup of Earl Grey tea in her right hand, curling up, it seemed, so as not to be noticed, so as not to be caught out by the emptiness of the bleak, lonely living room which was bearing witness to her former days spent crying. She realised that although she could not quite fathom why and how their friendship had begun, she knew it had started that night on the pier at two o'clock in the morning. She could remember their entire conversation perfectly because by interrupting her despondent monologue he had somewhat set the cat among the pigeons. He had behaved both as he should not have and should have.

"Gregory, what are you doing here?"

"You haven't answered my question, Olivia," he said patronizingly.

"Am I entitled to a lawyer? Can I keep silence? Am I going to prison? Actually, I think I already am…"

"What are you talking about? Why have you been crying? Has something happened these last few days?"

"Don't tell me your wife hasn't informed you about the big news yet," she smirked.

"Which news? I've been away for over a week, business trip in Manhattan. I've just come back from the airport, one day earlier than scheduled, a surprise for Annie. But she wasn't home. I guess she's staying at Maria's, engrossed in some girly talk, as always.
So to answer your question, I decided to take a walk on the beach. I've missed the Californian air and wind so much, unbelievable. Now, you know everything about my whereabouts, what about yours?"

As Olivia was not willing to answer, Gregory continued his inquiry: "Look, I heard what you said, about the sea and AJ and the cruise… What the hell were you talking about?"

"As though it affects you, as though you care…"

"Don't you think I can ask my ex-wife what's wrong with her? You're here on the beach at two o'clock in the morning. You used to do that quite a lot, but you were always drunk then and you're quite sober tonight, I can see that…"

"I don't want to talk about this with you, or with anyone else, not tonight. Please leave me alone and go back home, you must be awfully tired."

"You care about me but I can't care about you…," he replied, his head dangling on his right side.

"Don't look at me as though this was the secret of our relationship. Because it isn't. The truth is I cared about you but you didn't care about me. There is a huge difference between the words 'can' and 'do', you know… I have just experienced it once too much. If you really want to know my whereabouts, here they are: AJ dumped me earlier this week," she exhaled, short of breath.

"AJ dumped you? After what? A few months? I told him he would never change. Another woman I guess? But who could be more goddess-like than you in his eyes?"

"You don't have to rack your brain too much, Gregory. We've known her for over twenty years. She's your son's mother-in-law-to-be," Olivia answered, with an as-a-matter-of-fact lilt.

"Bette! What the hell? Now you told me, I knew she had a crush on AJ when we were younger but I would never have thought she was still… well in love. And AJ who claimed his devotion to you…"

Gregory was becoming very garrulous, as if he did not believe so much as a word of what Olivia had just disclosed. It hurt Olivia to hear him talk like that. He was twisting the knife in her fresh wound, one of the very few lesions he did not cause. She had to stop him. She had to take over.

"I didn't look before I leaped because I had nothing to lose; that was what the self-assured Olivia thought. Once bitten, twice shy… But what about being "twice bitten"by the same man? Should I become even more bashful? Should I just shut up, leave town and never come back? No, I can't do that, not now that my children and my grandson are everything I have, are the only people who mind me…"

"Don't be silly, you've got some good friends…"

"Who?," she jeered, "Bette?... I don't resent her, but things will never be the same again between us… Alex? Elaine? God knows where they are. Please stop trying to help me comprehend why and how I've become such a destructive force for others and for my own self."

Gregory did not know how to put his following question, so he did not venture immediately. Olivia was exhausted, with no word left to utter. Silence was now golden and speech more grey than silver. Gregory Richards, the long arm of the law, was embarrassed, confused. He should have been contended, gleeful even to have been right about AJ Deschanel… once again. But Olivia's reaction… Her plea to be left alone while she should have been comforted reminded him of how he had been there for her when AJ broke her heart the first time. He had known what to say and not to say, how to make her feel special, not only because he was in love from top to toe but also because he wanted her to perceive that not all 'malekind' was as carefree as Armando Deschanel Junior.

Gregory had changed her root and branch, and now he regretted his move, like a sculptor who becomes increasingly dissatisfied with his oeuvre because of the discrepancy between his promising initial inspiration and the unsightly result his hands have provoked. He should not have made her so vulnerable, so fawn-like over the years. She was so strong back then. Now she seemed so frail, so fragile. Although he would never acknowledge it, what was bothering him most was the certitude that he was not meant to rescue her this time. He was not as free as he used to, he was married and he was happy.

"Maybe," he suggested at last, "Maybe we should try and be friends…"

Olivia did not move; she looked like she did not hear what her ex-husband had just proposed. She seemed to be in another world, in another place, in another time, in another dimension, all of them populated by phantom limbs, all skin and bone.

"Friends? You and me?," she so feebly articulated that he was not convinced she had yet come back from her other dimension. "What do you mean? Friends like each other's confidant, like another Olivia and Bette couple? You continually and adamantly refrained from confiding in me when we were married, why should it be different now?"

"Because I feel we have nothing to prove to each other anymore, we are no longer committed, so to speak. I think it could benefit both of us. We have known and watched each other for so long. We can feel it when something's wrong. I'm tired of pledges, and I believe you're weary of them too. I'm not afraid of having a 'talkative relationship' with you, not anymore."

"Why don't you unburden your heart to your legal other half?," she bitterly eructated.

"Because she simply can't be my friend; she is my partner both from a marital and a professional point of view. She won't understand; it would never occur to her that Gregory Richards may need a female friend. But things are different between you and me. We obviously failed as spouses; we could have been astounding lovers if we had wanted to – I think we would have fared better as lovers than as spouses for that matter. But we've both been driven to such extremes that friendship seems to be the happy medium we both need. I definitely can't pretend you don't exist, you can't act as if I've never been born. So what do you think?"

"I don't know," she genuinely retorted. "I guess we could give it a try. What should I be afraid of? Being humiliated if you are making a fool of me? I'm at my lowest anyway, and seen from below," she British-humouredly reflected, "your idea might turn out to be very therapeutic. So ok, let's the new broom sweep clean, no matter what the witch, or the black cat."