A/N: ***WARNING*** Parts of this chapter contain some racial slurs and innuendo. There is also some violence depicted. If these scenes offend your sensibilities please skip. Never want to offend. Enjoying the reviews. Here we go!
Chapter 7. My Family, My Family
Present Day Wisconsin
"Olivia, I am so sorry to hear about Ella. It's devastating to lose a child, especially so young", Anneke Grant says empathetically.
"Thank you, Mrs. Grant", Olivia says with sorrow, looking down at her plate.
Fitz kisses her hand again and Olivia smiles at him wistfully.
"Are you okay, babe?" Fitz asks with concern and love in his voice. Although it has been over a year since Ella died, he knows how painful the death of her goddaughter continues to be for her.
"I'm fine", she smiles at him weakly, then pecks him on the lips.
Although Fitz has always been kind and considerate of the feelings of others, Tristan is intrigued by the level of intimacy he shares with Olivia. As he eyes the couple, Tristan glides his tongue across his lips and shifts slightly in his chair as he watches Olivia's full lips connect with his brother's thinner lips.
"Mrs. Grant, Fitz and I have presents for everyone. You can open them whenever you like."
"That's so thoughtful of you, Olivia. I know my son did not do any of the shopping", she smiles politely.
"I did", Fitz pipes up. "Livvie dragged me all over Phoenix for days shopping for Christmas presents."
"And you loved every minute of it, babe."
"I did", pecking her on the cheek.
Gerry rolls his eyes discreetly. His son and fiancée's display of affection at the dinner table is unsettling to him.
After dinner the family retreats to the parlor for drinks and to open their presents. The room is beautifully decorated for the season. The 20-foot-tall Christmas tree stands gracefully in the corner to the right of the massive fireplace. The white lights twinkle brightly against the brass and crystal ornaments that have been hung meticulously on the branches. The tree is topped with a lighted praying angel dressed in an antique white gown. Fresh green garland is draped across the fireplace where two vintage lanterns filled with pine cones, candles, and greens sit at either end of the mantle. The scent of cinnamon wafts through the air as holiday music plays softly in the background. The men make their way to the bar to replenish their tumblers with the family drink while Olivia sits on the sofa, not daring another glass of wine because she is exhausted. Mrs. Grant sits in the occasional chair adjacent to the sofa.
"This is an absolutely beautiful room, Mrs. Grant. The decorations are breathtaking. Frankly, the entire house is beautifully designed. I love all of the architectural elements."
"Thank you, dear. That means a lot coming from an architect. However, every year I have to cajole my husband and Tristan to chop down a tree for Christmas. I'm sorry to say that each year they seem to grow less and less enthusiastic about doing it."
"Fitz says it's tradition for everyone to open one present on Christmas Eve."
"Yes it is. When Fitzgerald and Tristan were little boys they were always too anxious to wait for Christmas Day to open their presents. So Gerry and I would allow them each to open one present. It was the only way we could get them to go to bed. Over time it just became a family tradition."
"Unfortunately, my parents didn't have that tradition. I always had to wait until Christmas morning to open my presents, but I like the tradition. Maybe we will continue it with our family", she looks across the room and smiles at Fitz.
Anneke Grant touches the pearls around her neck.
"Well let's not break tradition", Tristan says. "Let's open our presents."
After each person has opened one gift the conversation shifts subtly to the engagement.
"Olivia dear, your ring is absolutely beautiful. My son has excellent taste."
"Thank you, Mrs. Grant", smiling demurely.
"He does have good taste", Tristan chimes in, looking at Olivia as he swirls the ice in his drink. "That ring looks like it set you back a pretty penny, brother", Tristan says as he leans against the fireplace, the perfect position to surveil the scene unfolding in the room.
"Tristan! Don't be crude", his mother admonishes.
Gerry walks from the bar to his oversized leather chair with another tumbler of scotch. He sits and crosses his long legs and Olivia smiles, wondering if Fitz picked up the habit of crossing his legs from his father.
"Fitz just gave it to me last week, actually. He didn't have a ring when he proposed last month in the Gelateria." Remembering the day, she smiles again at her fiancé.
"I told you, babe, I hadn't planned on doing it that way", walking from the bar with a drink in his hand and sitting on the sofa next to Olivia. "But the time just felt right." He lifts her left hand and kisses the ring. "I love you more than anything, Livvie."
Across the room Gerry scrutinizes the couple from his chair and takes another long sip of scotch.
"I love you too, baby", pecking his lips when a yawn escapes her mouth.
"Somebody's tired", Fitz says, smiling at his fiancée.
"I'm sorry", looking around the room with her hand to her mouth, trying to suppress another yawn. "It's been a long day. If you all don't mind I think I'll go up to bed now."
"Of course, Olivia. It has been a long day, dear", Anneke chimes in. "We will see you in the morning for Christmas breakfast."
"I'll come up with you", Fitz says, springing quickly to his feet.
Gerry rolls his eyes again. His overly attentive son has begun to grate on his nerves.
"That's not necessary, babe. Stay down here and visit with your family."
"Actually", says Gerry. "I wanted to discuss a few things with you, Fitzgerald. You don't mind, do you Olivia?"
"Not at all. I'm sure you have lots to catch up on."
Fitz walks Olivia to the foyer, envelops her in his arms, and gives her a long, deep kiss in front of the grand staircase, which is nothing short of stunning. It is truly the centerpiece of the home and an example of creative workmanship. Whoever designed it really wanted to make an impression on anyone entering the home. The curved, solid oak handrails are supported by a series of ornately decorated wrought iron balusters. The arched staircase descends to the center of the two-story foyer and ascends to the upper landing that leads to the six bedrooms.
"Fitz, this is one of the biggest staircases I've ever seen in a home. It's absolutely beautiful. It's such a unique design."
"It is pretty amazing. My father designed it when he had the house built. He wanted the house to have a grand appearance and be a unique expression of the old world style of Sweden. He worked with local metal smiths to fabricate the wrought iron panels."
"Well, it certainly gives the house a grand appearance. I'll have to talk with him about the design before we leave next week. I might have to borrow his ideas for one of my projects", she winks at him.
"I'm sure he would love to talk to my architect fiancée`about the design of this house. The staircase is his pride and joy."
"I can see why, but I would get tired of climbing these steep stairs every day, Fitz. Like right now I am so tired I don't know how long it'll take me to get to the top landing", she smiles, looking up the stairs.
"I can carry you", he smirks.
"No you won't. I've seen the number of scotches you've had to drink tonight. I don't want to end up at the bottom of this beautiful staircase", not bothering to stifle another yawn.
They kiss again before she makes the long trek up the grand staircase.
"I won't be too long, okay?"
"Take your time, babe. I'm going to take a hot shower and go straight to bed."
Olivia climbs the long, steep staircase to Fitz' bedroom. She looks around the room and smiles, thinking this is the room in which a young Fitzgerald spent a lot of time. She wonders how many girls he sneaked into his bedroom. She'll have to ask him, or maybe she'll ask Tristan tomorrow. He might be in a giving mood since it will be Christmas she thinks, smiling to herself.
This is a beautiful house but it's also a drafty house Olivia shakes her head as she digs through her suitcase to find something warm to sleep in. She finds one of Fitz' long-sleeved Harvard tee shirts and walks into the bathroom to shower. After a hot shower she dries off quickly and pulls on the tee shirt that stops just above her knees. She yawns again and wonders how long Fitz is going to be downstairs as she walks into the bedroom drying her hair with one of the plush, white towels. She gasps when she sees Tristan standing inside the doorway, looking like Fitz but not looking like Fitz.
"Tristan, you startled me", grabbing her chest. "Is everything all right? Is Fitz all right?"
"Everything is fine, Livvie", he says, sneering at her.
Olivia's antennae go up because Fitz is the only person who ever calls her Livvie.
"You should go, Tristan", she says guardedly.
"My big brother sure knows how to pick you girls", he says with a slight slur.
"You're drunk and you should go", Olivia says more forcefully this time while reaching for her robe which is thrown across the chair.
"You're one of the beautiful ones though, Livvie", closing the door and walking into the room.
"Fitz will be up here soon", she says nervously.
"No he won't. He's downstairs drinking and smoking cigars with that asshole father of ours. They're talking about you, Livvie - you know that? You know they don't like you. You know they're just pretending and Fitz is too damn stupid to see it. Father always says women like you are only good for fucking. We don't marry people like you."
"Get the fuck out of here, Tristan."
"I'm not leaving until you give me what you gave my big brother earlier. I saw how you wrapped those beautiful lips around his dick and made him cum. You're going make me cum like that too, Livvie."
Olivia's eyes dart around the room looking for a weapon, anything she can use to fend off this animal. Tristan walks toward her with lust in his eyes and Olivia begins yelling for Fitz.
"He can't hear you, Livvie. This old barn has walls thicker than Fort Knox."
Olivia runs toward the bathroom and Tristan is on her in two long strides. He grabs her by the hair and pulls her head back, trying to kiss her.
"Kiss me", he growls. "You kiss that fucking asshole brother of mine. You let him paw you at the dinner table like the whore you are."
Olivia slaps him hard across the face, which only angers him.
"You black bitch. You think you're too good for me? You don't think I'm as good as the golden boy? I'll show you."
Tristan slaps Olivia hard and she falls to the floor. He lunges on top of her and starts to rip off his brother's Harvard tee shirt. Olivia kicks and punches Tristan, trying to get away from him.
"Fitz! Fitz! Somebody help me", she screams as she digs her fingernails into his face.
"You fucking bitch. You're gonna pay for this like Sabrina."
He wraps his strong hand around her throat and pushes down his pants, revealing his flaccid dick.
"You're gonna suck me the way you sucked that stupid ass brother of mine."
Olivia spits in his face and screams at the top of her lungs for Fitz to help her.
XXX
As a father Gerry Grant wants the best for his son and in his mind Olivia Pope is not the best for Fitzgerald. However, as a man he admires his son's courage and can appreciate why he is so enamored with the woman. After all, she's beautiful, smart, and seems to love Fitzgerald as much as he loves her. Hell, he has had his share of exotic women in his lifetime but he always knew where to draw the line. Fitzgerald, however, never knew the boundaries which has always gotten him into trouble.
Fitz stands in front of the fireplace watching the embers dance inside of the fire box. He's feeling on top of the world tonight. He hasn't been home for the holidays in years so he's ecstatic that his first return home is with his fiancée. He takes a sip of his drink.
"Fitzgerald, how long has this been going on with you and Olivia?" His father asks.
Fitz turns to look at his parents and begins to speak.
"We've been together for over a year now, father", smiling brightly.
"And why is this the first we're hearing about her? Why do we find out on Christmas Eve that you're engaged, Fitzgerald?" He mother queries.
"This past year has been a whirlwind for us, mother. I must admit we've had some ups and downs but I always knew we were meant to be together. While I hadn't planned to propose when I did, I knew it would happen", speaking from his heart. "I'm in love her mother."
Gerry listens intently to his son speak passionately about his love for Olivia. He shakes his head in disdain. He doesn't plan on going through this shit again with Fitzgerald.
"Fitzgerald …" His father begins, standing from his leather chair, holding a half-empty glass of scotch. "You can date her back in Phoenix, but marry her - never. I won't have it. We won't have it." Gerry booms.
Fitz' eyes widen. He's shocked by his father's declaration.
"She's beautiful, Fitzgerald", his mother begins, standing from her seat as well and walking toward her son. "Some of them actually are. I can see why you might be attracted to her."
"What?" Fitz eyes his mother and father carefully, not quite sure of what he is hearing.
"Fitzgerald –"
"What the hell is going on here?" He demands angrily, not liking what he is hearing.
"She's not the right woman for you, Fitzgerald", his father booms again.
Tempers begin to rise and the raised voices drown out the holiday music.
"Who are you people?" Fitz looks between his parents. "I don't know either of you right now. When did you develop these racist sentiments and how can you justify them?"
"We are not racists", his mother protests vehemently. "We have supported many of their causes for civil rights. Every year we donate to the NAACP. We are Christians, Fitzgerald. We have always helped the less fortunate. It's the Christian thing to do. But that doesn't mean we have to socialize with them, and God forbid, marry them!"
Gerry nods in agreement and takes another sip from his tumbler.
"Oh my god, mother! Just because you donate to the NAACP doesn't mean you're not a racist, a bigot. "I like your Christ. I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ." Fitz says, shaking his head.
"Excuse me?" Gerry growls.
"Gandhi", Fitz says, glaring at his father. "It's about the disparity between Christ's teachings and his so-called followers. I think the quote applies to you and mother." He shakes his head again and stares down at the floor. This is all so unexpected.
"You will not talk to your mother like that. I told you, Anneke, it was a mistake letting him go to that damn liberal East Coast school after he - "
"Gerry!"
"But you always indulged his every whim. Ever since he was a goddamn kid you entertained his fanciful ideas."
"So are you saying this is all my fault?"
"Damn right it is. We'll be the laughing stock of the whole damn town. Our son, the brilliant surgeon marries a goddamn –"
"Don't you fucking say it, father." Fitz says slowly with venom in his voice. If you say it I will knock your goddamn teeth down your fucking throat."
Fitz balls his fists and glares at his father, daring him to say the unacceptable. For the first time ever, Gerry Grant is afraid of his son.
"Fitzgerald, son", his mother intervenes, trying to diffuse the situation. "There's no need for violence."
Fitz turns his back to his parents and takes another long sip of his scotch. How could he not know this about his own parents? He shakes his head in disbelief. Everything is falling apart.
"Son, I'll try to be delicate", his mother says slowly, clasping her hands in front of her chest. "Is it – well is it about the - sex? I've heard -"
"Mother! You will not talk about Olivia in that manner", he shouts.
His mother's mouth flies open, shocked by the tone her Fitzgerald is using with her.
"Mother", he says more softly, closing his eyes, trying to get ahold of his emotions. "I love her. Can't you understand that? I love her more than I ever imagined I could ever love another human being. She is everything to me. Please don't do this. Don't try to reduce what we have to just sex."
"Have you ever thought she could be after your money? After all, you are a renowned surgeon", his father posits.
This only gets fucking worse, Fitz thinks.
"Mother, father, I am a grown man and will make my own decisions. I'm going to marry Olivia and if God is willing I hope to have many children with her one day."
His mother gasps.
"Fitzgerald! Now I know you have gone mad. Our family has been pure since our great-, great-grandparents settled here in 1865. We'll have no more talk of babies!"
"Yes mother, I am mad. I have fallen madly in love with Olivia Pope and there isn't anything you or father can do about it. Hell, there isn't anything I can do about. I couldn't stop loving her even if I tried."
"Why can't you ever find an appropriate girl? I'm sure there are plenty of fine women in Phoenix", Gerry interjects. "What is it about you and these …?" He shakes his head and walks over to the bar and pours another drink.
"She is the appropriate woman for me, father", Fitz says sadly, resting his arms on top of the fireplace mantle and staring down at the floor, fighting back the tears threatening to spill over. He feels immense sadness as he wonders how he's going to explain all of this to Olivia.
"Mother, father I cannot stay here knowing how you feel about Olivia – the woman I am going to marry. We will be leaving your home in the morning."
"There's no need to be rash, son. This is your home too, Fitzgerald. We can all pretend to be polite for a few more days."
"That's just it, father, I don't want you to pretend. I want you to love Olivia because I love her - because she makes me happy – happier than I can ever remember being in my entire life. I don't want your false politeness. Olivia deserves better than that."
"You talk some sense into him, Gerry", Anneke says in a huff as she walks from the parlor. "I'm going to bed. All of this talk has given me a headache."
XXX
Anneke climbs the grand staircase and walks toward her bedroom when she hears screams coming from Fitzgerald's bedroom.
"Fitz! Fitz!" Olivia screams.
Anneke pushes open the bedroom door and is horrified when she sees her younger son with his hand around Olivia's throat and tearing at her clothes.
"Get off of her!" his mother runs into the room screaming.
"Get out of here, mother! She's gonna give me what she gives Fitz."
"I said get off of her", beating on her son's back with her small fists.
"Why do you care what happens to her? You don't even like this black bitch."
Anneke runs from the bedroom, to the top of the grand staircase, and yells for her son and husband.
"Fitzgerald! Gerry! He's gonna kill her!"
Fitz' eyes grow wide and his heart sinks to his stomach as the tumbler slips from his hand, crashing to the hardwood floor. He runs from the parlor and up the staircase, two steps at a time.
"Somebody help her!" Anneke screams again.
Fitz and Gerry reach the top of the grand staircase where Anneke is gasping for breath.
"My god, he's going to kill her", she screams, pointing to the bedroom.
Fitz and Gerry rush into the bedroom where they see Tristan holding his penis and choking a half-naked Olivia on the floor.
"You son-of-a-bitch", Fitz growls, running over and pulling his brother off of his fiancée. He grabs Tristan by the collar and throws him against the wall, pummeling his face until blood spurts from his mouth and nose. Tristan slumps to the floor and Fitz stomps and kicks his brother over and over and over.
"Stop it! Stop it!" their mother screams. "You're going to kill him."
"He deserves to fucking die", Fitz snarls as he continues to stomp and kick his brother.
"Go take care of Olivia", Gerry growls, pulling Fitz off of Tristan. "I'll handle this."
Anneke grabs the comforter from the bed and covers Olivia as she lay on the floor trembling and gasping for air. Gerry unbuckles his belt and slides it from his pants loops and begins to beat Tristan. He brings the thick leather belt down onto his son's back over and over and the young man hollers like a wounded animal.
"You disrespect this house again?"
And the thick leather belt lashes onto Tristan's back again.
"You do this ungodly thing in our home?"
The blood-coated belt comes down again onto Tristan's back.
"I should have put this dog down years ago", Gerry snarls, looking over at his wife. And the final lash tears through Tristan's shirt and his blood splatters onto the walls.
"Father, please. This is all Fitz' fault. You know he never should have brought her here."
Gerry grabs Tristan from the floor and throws him into the hall.
"I want your no-good ass out of this house tonight. Now git!"
A beaten and battered Tristan runs down the long staircase and out of the front door into the frigid Wisconsin night.
"Olivia, baby. Talk to me, baby", Fitz implores cradling Olivia's head in his arm.
"I called for you, Fitz. I screamed. I did", she says disoriented.
"I'm so sorry, baby. I'm so sorry", he says with tears streaming down his face.
"Why, Fitz? Why would he ...?" She asks hoarsely.
"Get her onto the bed, Fitzgerald", his mother urges him.
Fitz carries Olivia to the bed, puts her under the blanket, and lays next to her stroking her face. His mother walks quickly from the bathroom with a cold compress and places it onto Olivia's forehead. She gasps when she sees Tristan's fingerprints around the young woman's neck.
"Olivia, dear", Anneke starts. "I am so sorry. I don't know why Tristan would do such a thing."
"Fitz, get me out of here. Get me out of this house now", Olivia says weakly.
He nods.
"You don't have to leave -" his mother starts.
"Enough, mother! Please leave while I get Olivia dressed", his hands shake violently.
"Where are you going?" His mother asks carefully.
"I have to get Olivia to the hospital", Fitz says half to himself, shaking his head.
"What are you going to tell them?" His mother asks anxiously.
"The truth."
XXX
Fitz carries Olivia down the grand staircase and out to their rental car. He turns on the car to warm it and locks the doors before going back into the house to gather their belongings.
"Fitzgerald, where are you going? Don't leave tonight", his father pleads.
"Are you fucking crazy? Do you think I would let Olivia stay here after what just happened? After knowing how you feel about her?"
"Tristan is gone. He won't be back", his mother protests.
"And neither will I."
"You're going to turn your back on your family for that woman?" his father yells.
"You should expect a visit from the police", Fitz says as he storms out of the house.
XXX
Fitz rushes into the emergency room carrying Olivia in his arms. She hasn't said a word since they left the house and he is a nervous wreck. For a man who has operated on the brains of thousands of children he feels completely inadequate.
"Patient experiencing acute shock, STAT", he yells as he hurries into the emergency room.
The emergency room staff jump quickly into action, placing Olivia onto a gurney and wheeling her to the back to be examined.
"Sir, are you a doctor?" Dr. Fabrice, the emergency room doctor on call asks. He's not sure what he is dealing with as he eyes Fitz' blood-covered clothes. He doesn't know if this is a domestic violence case or something else.
"Yes. Dr. Grant. Neurosurgeon. Phoenix Children's Hospital." He says quickly, running a hand through his hair.
Fitz knows the protocol. He knows he has to give the intake staff an accounting of what happened to Olivia.
"We'll have to call the police, Dr. Grant. And we'll get you some ice for your hand and a set of scrubs to change into", Dr. Fabrice says before walking to the back to examine Olivia.
Fitz changes into the scrubs and tosses his bloody clothes into the trash bin in the hall outside of Olivia's room. Olivia has been admitted for overnight observation because she is still in shock. He sits in Olivia's hospital room, in the dark, shaking his head as he watches her sleep. He cannot believe what has happened because none of it makes any sense. It all feels like a bad dream. How could Tristan do this? How can he explain it to Olivia when he doesn't even understand it himself? He doesn't know who his family is any more.
"Fitz", Olivia calls out softly.
"Livvie." He rushes over to the bed and kisses her lightly on the forehead. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."
"I want to go home, Fitz", she says weakly.
"We'll be back home tomorrow. You need to stay here overnight, okay?" He looks into her frightened eyes and tears well up in his eyes.
She nods and turns away from him. After a few moments she speaks again.
"Why would you take me to that house, Fitz?"
He walks around the bed to look into her eyes.
"I didn't know, Liv. I swear, I didn't know."
"How could you not know?" She closes her eyes and the tears roll down her face. "Please leave."
"Livvie ..."
XXX
It's Christmas Day and surprisingly the airports are fairly busy as they walk in silence through Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport to retrieve his car. In the underground parking garage Fitz sits in the driver's seat for a few minutes trying to figure out what to do next.
"Take me home Fitz - to my apartment", she says quietly, looking straight ahead. She can no longer bear looking at his face.
His body tenses and he grips the steering wheel tightly. She hasn't stayed at her apartment in weeks. He's grown used to sleeping with her at night and waking up with her in the morning to start their day.
"How can I make this better, Liv? Tell me what to do and I'll do it." The tears roll down her face again.
"I screamed, Fitz. I called for you."
"I'm so sorry", he says softly, looking down at his hands. The shame and anger are building in him.
"I was so scared, Fitz and you weren't there. He wanted to kill me. The hate in his eyes - I'll never forget his eyes. When I look into your eyes all I see is him."
"Damn it!" He yells, banging his fist on the steering wheel.
They drive to her apartment in silence.
XXX
"Can I call you later?" He asks sadly, standing outside of her door.
"Not tonight. I - I just need some time alone to think", she says softly.
He nods and leans in to kiss her on the cheek and she recoils, and his heart shatters into a thousand little pieces. After she slips into her apartment Fitz leans his head against the door frame and lets the tears fall. The old woman across the hall looks through her peephole and shakes her head.
XXX
Fitz sits in his office at Phoenix Children's Hospital reviewing charts for upcoming surgeries in the New Year. Since their vacation was cut short and he hasn't heard from Olivia, he's trying to distract himself from thinking about her every minute of the day. It's been almost a week since they returned from Wisconsin and she hasn't contacted him nor has she responded to his phone calls or text messages. He's getting anxious because he doesn't know where they stand. He doesn't know what she's thinking. He prays he hasn't lost her.
Fitz goes to the dojang to spar a few rounds with his trainer to release his anger and tension. After suiting up in the locker room he walks over to the area where Mike, his trainer, is standing.
"I was surprised to hear from you today, Fitz. I haven't seen you around here in a while. That can only mean one of two things, either work or a woman has been keeping you away from this place. I bet it's a woman, right?" Mike smiles knowingly.
"Let's just get to it, Mike", not feeling like small talk today.
Trouble in paradise, Mike thinks to himself.
As Fitz begins to spar with Mike, his brother's face flashes in his mind and he takes his anger and frustration out on Mike, kicking Mike until he falls to the floor. He kicks and kicks Mike until Big Jim, the grandmaster, runs over and stops him.
"Easy tiger", Big Jim says, pulling Fitz off of Mike.
Mike looks at Fitz in horror.
"Mike, I'm so sorry, man. I didn't mean ..."
Mike nods.
"Hit the shower, Fitz", Big Jim commands.
"Shit", Fitz yells in the locker room, punching his locker with his wrapped hands.
XXX
It's a new year but Olivia doesn't feel like anything has changed since she returned from Wisconsin. She hasn't seen or talked to Fitz since the night he brought her home, and that has been over a week. They didn't even spend New Year's Eve together, although he left her a message expressing his love. He didn't think saying Happy New Year was appropriate under the circumstances.
Olivia is tired of staying holed up in her apartment thinking about what happened at Fitz' parents' home so she decides to go for a run in the park. She needs some fresh air to clear her head. For the past week all she's done is cry. Tristan scared her and hurt her physically. She hopes the police catch his ass soon. But she is also hurt emotionally because of the ugly things he said to her and what she learned about Fitz' parents' beliefs about race - about her. And she no longer knows how she feels about Fitz. Can he be like the rest of his family? After all, they were a family unit with shared values and beliefs. Olivia runs until her chest burns, until she can no longer outrun her thoughts so she heads back home.
"Psst", Mrs. Teller beckons her over. Olivia rolls her eyes. She really isn't in the mood for Mrs. Teller's nosiness today.
"Hello, Mrs. Teller. I'm sorry I don't have time to talk this afternoon. I have a lot to do."
"No you don't, so come on over here and talk to me for a minute."
Olivia rolls her eyes again and walks over to the old woman. Her parents taught her to always respect her elders, but Mrs. Teller is testing this rule today.
"I saw that you came back early from your Christmas vacation, Olivia."
"Is there something you need, Mrs. Teller?" Not interested in discussing the matter with the woman.
"Where's that handsome boyfriend of yours, or should I say fiancé? Don't look surprised, Olivia. I know everything that goes on in this building. I haven't seen him around here lately."
"Is there something else you want Mrs. Teller because I don't want to discuss my personal life."
"He's a good one, Olivia. Don't let him get away."
"Have a good day, Mrs. Teller." Olivia turns to walk to her apartment.
"He was just here. You missed him by 10 minutes. He's looking just as sad as you are. He pushed a note under your door, too. You better read it", she yells as Olivia unlocks her apartment door.
When Olivia opens her door she sees the envelope on the floor with Fitz' unmistakable scrawl on the front. She picks up the envelope and turns and looks at Mrs. Teller. The old woman gives her an I-told-you-so look, pulls her shawl tightly around her shoulders, and then closes her door.
Olivia wonders how the woman who never seems to leave her apartment knows everything that goes on in the building. She sets the envelope on the coffee table and takes a long, hot shower. After a relaxing shower she walks into the kitchen and pours a glass of wine and walks back into the living room with the glass and wine bottle. She sits on the sofa staring at Fitz' handwriting on the envelope then pours herself another glass of wine. She reads the letter on her third glass and the tears begin to flow so she reaches for her phone.
"Fitz, we need to talk."