Chapter 18: It's Quite Simple, Really, Isn't It?

They don't sleep.

Fitz switches off the light and they settle back into bed, lost in their own thoughts. He wraps her up in his arms, his front pressed to her back, their legs intertwined. Occasionally he kisses her neck, her shoulder, and it keeps her grounded. Whatever happens, I'm here he's saying. Olivia is unendingly grateful.

Gradually she feels his hand begin to slide along the outside of her thigh, to her waist; sneaking beneath the edge of her top. She knows what he's about to do and when she tenses up, he pauses. I can't do this, she thinks. Not now; not yet.

"Livvie," he murmurs, "It's okay. Relax."

Very slowly, she exhales; at the same time, he covers her lower abdomen with his hand, holding her firmly against him. Suddenly her emotions rise up through her chest, filling her throat, spilling over: a sob escapes her, harsh and unexpected. She tries to stop it, to keep it inside but it's too powerful and there are more coming, now that she's opened the gates. Fitz just squeezes her tighter, unrelenting. Even if she wanted to escape, she couldn't overcome his strength.

He lets her cry, releasing all the tension she's been building since this afternoon. When she begins to quieten, to calm, he turns her towards him and kisses the tears on her face. "Come on," he says softly. "I'll make us some tea."

In the harsh light of the kitchen, Olivia sits at the small table with her head in her hands as they wait for the kettle to boil. Fitz is leaning against the counter, looking casual, but she can feel the anxiety radiating from him. When the water is ready she opts for peppermint tea, unable to face the thought of Googling anything associated with pregnancy right now. He sets down two mugs and takes a seat opposite her. Neither of them say anything for a while. He's waiting for her, she knows.

Eventually she stretches, gazing up to the ceiling. "It's quite simple, really, isn't it?" she says, examining the paint around the light fitting, the single strand of a spider's web which is attached to the shade. She doesn't normally use this bulb; prefers to put on the spotlights beneath the cabinets. Maybe she should remove it altogether, repaint. She tucks the thought away and looks back at Fitz.

"I can have an abortion, or I can have a baby." Her voice sounds distant; lost somewhere, along with the rest of her. "What do you think?"

There's pain etched all over his face. She's never seen it before and yet she still thinks he looks unreasonably handsome. "I… can't tell you," he says seriously. It seems like he's struggling to get the words out; like each one is hurting him. "I don't want my feelings to influence what you do. You have to choose what's best for you, Livvie. Whatever happens, you can't make this decision for me. It's too important. I won't let you."

She listens; weighs up his words. This is his stance on the issue. Everything else is obviously up to her. "Would you leave me?" she asks.

"If you had an abortion? No."

"I meant if I kept it."

He looks shocked. "Definitely not. I won't ever leave you."

"How can you be so sure?"

There's the first crack in her composure; the first betrayal. How does he know? What if he realizes she's not good enough and changes his mind? That's what Edison did, in the end. That's one of the ways he broke her. "What happens if we fall apart, Fitz? What if it turns out we're not the people we think we are?"

"Are you going to change?" he asks, gazing at her, frustration shining in his eyes. It's the first time she's ever seen that, too; normally he's so patient. "Are you going to stop being the beautiful, charming, funny girl who I fell head over heels for in London?"

"I'm damaged-" she protests but he shouts over her.

"So am I! We're all damaged, Olivia!" The volume and force of his words makes her recoil. He reaches out to her, apologizing. "I'm sorry. But it's true. I don't care. I don't. I think you are utterly perfect. Can't you see that?"

She doesn't say anything. Can she?

"Look," he goes on, taking her hands in his, "This has completely blown us both away. It's okay that you feel uncertain but please, please don't do this. Don't second-guess me or the way I feel about you."

"Tell me," she says quietly. "Tell me how you feel."

Will this help, or will it just make her more confused? Either way she suddenly wants to know, to hear him say it. She needs something sure to hold onto.

He looks wary. It's clear he wishes this was happening under different circumstances. "You already know."

"Tell me," she repeats, pleading with him now. "Please, Fitz."

"I can't. Not right now."

"Why not?" Her voice starts to rise. Damn it, why is he so infuriating? "Because you're upset with me? Because this is the worst news you've ever heard? Because I've ruined your li-"

"Because I'm falling in love with you!"

She's immediately silenced, stunned. It's too much to take: his earnest expression, the way his blue eyes are seeing right into her soul. The tears return, gathering on her lashes, and she covers her face with her hands, hiding. She wasn't ready. She's not ready for this - for any of it.

"No, that's not right," he's continuing, his voice soft now. "I've fallen. It's already happened."

She's aware of him coming to kneel in front of her, turning her chair towards him. His hands gently take her wrists, making her look at him again. She's trembling, overwhelmed, her cheeks wet. "I love you, Olivia. I'm in love with you. I've loved you since the moment we met and I always will."

Gazing into his eyes, she believes him - right down to the bottom of her soul.

"Do you think we should keep it?" she asks, barely audibly. She's holding onto his arms for dear life.

"I'm not going to tell you what I think until you've figured out what you want." He brushes his fingers over her face, wiping away her tears. "When you know, I'll be here. I'll support you whatever decision you make. We're in this together, Livvie. I'll still love you whether we have a baby or we don't."

"We already have one, Fitz." The palm of her hand automatically comes to rest over her belly. "I don't know if I could… How I would feel if…"

She can't verbalize it again. One utterance of the 'A' word is enough for tonight. "I'm scared," she admits. "I'm scared of so many things right now. I'm scared of losing my identity. I can't just become a mother; I don't know anything about it. And my dad, your wife, my career, my friends… What will people think?"

"That's for them to decide. You need to do what makes you happy. That's it."

"And what makes you happy."

He looks at her for a long time. "What if those are two different things?" he asks eventually. His expression falters for just a second but it's enough for her to see beneath; for her to realize he's been putting on a brave face this whole time when really, every moment of her uncertainty is tearing him apart.

She doesn't answer his question. She doesn't know how.

He glances away, composing himself. "Come on," he says, forcing a smile. He begins to stand up. "Your tea is getting cold."

"Fitz." Her voice makes him pause, one knee on the floor and one bent, like some bizarre proposal. "Thank you. For giving me time. I don't want to decide one way and then change my mind. I promise I won't do that to you."

He swallows hard. "I appreciate that," he murmurs. He cups her cheek in his palm and slowly leans in to kiss her, maintaining eye contact until their lips meet. It's so tender, so heartfelt. He's cherishing her, this man who's in love with her. Olivia feels her emotions starting to build again, expanding in her chest, stinging beneath her eyelids. She takes a deep breath and pulls him into a hug, burying her face in his shoulder.

"I want to make you happy," she whispers. "More than anything."

He sighs and holds her even closer. He doesn't say anything for ages; she can feel him trembling. When he does finally speak, his voice is thick. "You already do."

She knows him well enough by now to decipher the real meaning behind his words. He's saying: you're enough for me, if it comes to that.

He's saying: but it will break my heart.

And that breaks hers.

He finally releases her and gets quickly to his feet, turning away, wiping his eyes. Olivia longs to be able to comfort him, to tell him what he wants to hear, but she can't. She won't; she promised.

They adjourn to the living room, both aware that sleep won't come easily tonight. Fitz flicks through the TV channels and stops at Die Hard. All five films are showing back-to-back.

"I think this will distract us," he murmurs with a slight smile, which she returns. What has she ever done to deserve him?

"Good choice. It's been years since I enjoyed some vintage John McClane."

"Vintage?" Fitz repeats as they snuggle down on the couch. "This movie is pretty much the same age as you."

Olivia pokes out her tongue at him as she draws a blanket over them both. "Well then, I'm vintage too."

"And what does that make me?"

She gazes at him, fighting back a grin. That he can amuse her, make her forget all her worries on one of the most difficult days of her life, is testament to their connection, the strength of their love.

"Ancient," she teases. "A relic."

He laughs and pulls her closer, kissing the top of her head as she settles against his chest. "I must be pretty valuable then," he muses.

"You are." Olivia finds his hand, lacing their fingers together. Her voice is so quiet she doesn't know if he can even hear her. "You're everything to me."

Somewhere in the middle of that sentence, wrapped up in all her feelings for him, the memory - the reality - of her pregnancy resurfaces. For the first time since Dr Roberts asked her that fateful question, she'd managed to spend five minutes happy; blissfully unaware. Now the fear comes back, settling in the pit of her stomach again.

I can have an abortion, or I can have a babyWe already have one, Fitz…

He's remembered, too: he's tensed up beneath her again. From far away they look like two people in love, enjoying a movie on a Friday night. But come closer and there's a huge space between them; they're together but so far apart.

What is she going to do?

What the hell is she going to do?


Olivia wakes the next morning in the pale October sunlight which is streaming into the living room through the uncovered windows. She obviously fell asleep here, on the sofa. She remembers the start of the second film - or was it the third? - but little else. Fitz must have laid her down, covered her up. Where is he now?

Even as she wonders this, she knows instinctively that he's gone.

She lies still for a long time, staring at the dust particles dancing in the columns of light. The familiar nausea is there again but now, for the first time, she can attribute it to something. This is your fault, she thinks, her palm lying on her lower abdomen.

And then: Did I just talk to the baby?

Frightened, she gets up quickly, trying to banish that thought from her mind. She can't humanize this little ball of cells inside her just yet; not if she wants to be able to make a rational decision.

It's already past ten o'clock and she spends the next few hours cleaning her apartment from top to bottom. The place is already fairly spotless - she has it serviced once a week - but as a means of distraction, it's fantastic. She can't escape the truth entirely, though: thoughts come to her at random moments, like in the spare room when she finds herself imagining how she might decorate it for a baby, where the crib might go; or in the laundry, where she pictures hanging up tiny romper suits and little socks to dry.

She leaves after that, freaked out. She takes clothes she can't wash to the dry cleaners around the corner; buys groceries from her favorite deli. She even picks up her prescription for folic acid and takes one - just in case. After dropping everything off at home she goes out again, wandering to the river. She wonders where Fitz is; what he's doing, what he's thinking. Is he okay? She wants to call him but she doesn't know what to say. She's made no further progress since last night; she's still just as clueless.

Eventually, sometime around three PM, she finds herself sitting at her kitchen table with a pen and a piece of paper. She's going to make a list: positive and negatives of each option. She's returning to her basic instincts: to plan, to regain control.

It's more difficult than she thought.

The pros of having an abortion are straightforward - her life continues as it is now - but the cons are frightening: the procedure itself, of which she knows almost nothing; how Fitz will feel, how their relationship might change. She might lose him, the love of her life, and that would devastate her forever. And if they do make it through, in ten years' time when they decide they want to start a family, what if they can't? What if this is their only chance? And Fitz will be fifty then. Their child will only spend thirty good years with its father. Is that fair?

The pros of having a baby are difficult for her to see, having never considered it until yesterday. Does she even like babies? None of her friends have one; she's never even had to look after an infant before. And yet, when she imagines how cute her and Fitz's baby might be, how small and soft and wriggly, she can see the appeal. She can picture Fitz holding their little bundle, making him or her laugh, walking around the apartment in circles to try and soothe their cries. How hard can it be, really, with two of them? Fifteen-year-olds do it; single parents do it, living on benefits. At least she and Fitz are fortunate enough to have each other, and money to support themselves.

But the cons of being pregnant, in their current position - well, she's gone over all of these a thousand times already. She would have to hide until Fitz was divorced, and even then they couldn't disguise the fact he was still married when they conceived. Could they spin a good enough story to keep the media on her side? Could she convince her father to support her, to be involved with his grandchild, when she knows he will fundamentally disagree with her behavior and her decisions?

And beneath all of this lies Edison Davis: the man who took all her self-confidence and tossed it aside, like it was nothing. The man who convinced her, for a long time afterwards, that she was unworthy of love. The man who, when she finally fought back at the end, told her he didn't really love her anyway; he never really had. He kept her around while she was useful to him, while she was compliant; but when she started to break free, to become successful on her own, he did everything he could to crush her - and when that didn't work, he let her leave without a word. He didn't even care enough to fight for her.

He abused her, emotionally. She's talked to countless women since who've described the same relationships, the same signs. They were all oblivious at the time, including her. It's only looking back that she can see him for what he was: a vile abuser. A disgusting human being she wishes she'd never laid eyes on, let alone fallen in love with. She still hates herself for that; for her failure. Why couldn't she see what he was doing to her? Why did she ignore her friends' warnings for so long? Why is she still letting him get to her like this, two years later?

She leaves her list on the kitchen table and curls up on the sofa, fighting back tears. Why did this pregnancy have to happen now? Fitz was finally helping her heal: with time, she could see there was an end in sight, a future in which she would be whole again. He told her he loved her last night and she believed him, which is huge. Why can't they just stay here for a while, in this happy place? Why does she have to make this life-altering decision right now, all by herself?

What she really wants, what she needs, is her mom. She would know what to do; she would give the best advice. Sudden, overwhelming sadness sweeps through her; she misses her mom so intensely it hurts her chest, her whole body. She hugs her knees and sobs, feeling like she's being torn apart. For years after her death, Olivia used to think life isn't fair. She couldn't accept the randomness of it, the fact her mom was in the wrong place at the wrong time: crossing that road in the rain; the truck driver who braked just seconds too late. A million moments beforehand could have altered that one, but they didn't. It happened: she died instantly.

Since she's grown up, Olivia has come to understand. Life isn't fair, but it's all a matter of chance. Some people get to bury their parents in old age and some don't. Who gets to decide? Certainly no-one on Earth.

Right now, though, she feels twelve-years-old again: alone and abandoned in this world where everything is against her. She would give anything to speak to her mom again, to ask her what she should do. How can she have a baby and become a mother without the guidance of her own?

Her phone rings. She can barely control her shaking hands enough to pick it up. Her vision is blurry with tears but she can see it's Fitz. She takes several deep breaths before answering with a cautious: "Hi."

"Hi." He sounds just as nervous. "I'm outside your building… Can I come up?"

"Um… sure." Olivia stands, sniffing and wiping her eyes.

"Are you okay?"

She exhales a laugh. "Not really."

There's a pause. She can hear him climbing the steps, saying hello to Leon at the concierge desk. She doesn't know why they're both still on the phone when he's almost with her in person, but something about it is comforting. They're connected; together, even while they're apart. It's exactly what she needs right now.

It's only when she opens the door to him that they both hang up, their arms falling to their sides in perfect synchrony. His gaze travels over her face and his look of concern, of love, when he realizes she's been crying is too much.

"Don't," she tries to say, but the word comes out as a sob. She steps backwards, away from him, holding out her hands to keep him back. She'll break down if he holds her. She'll be ruined.

Fitz is too fast, though; too strong. The door is slammed shut and she's in his arms before she can stop him.

She falls apart.

She cries like a wounded animal; like a child who's lost her mother. His presence, his body and his smell and the soft wool of his sweater against her face, just make her sob harder. Help me, she's begging. Make it stop hurting, please.

He carries her into the living room and they're back on the couch again. She curls up on his lap and he rubs her back as she trembles, wave upon wave of despair rolling over her. Every so often she starts to recover and then it hits her again, another tsunami of emotion which she just can't deal with.

"What's wrong?" he keeps asking, kissing her forehead, holding her close.

It's a long time until she can breathe evenly enough to speak, gulping in air between words. "I just… I really… want my mom."

More tears escape her but she's calmer now, the worst of it over. She can feel Fitz's heart beating beneath her cheek and she focuses on it, the slow and steady rhythm. She doesn't dare look at him, afraid he'll tip her over the edge again.

"Oh Livvie," he murmurs. "I'm so sorry, baby."

It's the first time he's called her 'baby' since they found out about the one inside of her. Strangely, it doesn't hurt. Fitz moves beneath her, reaching toward the coffee table to pass her a tissue.

"Thank you," she whispers, finally gazing up at him. He smiles and she feels a hundred times better already.

"I wish I could make your pain go away," he says seriously. "I'd do anything."

"You're definitely helping." She wipes her eyes, her nose. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess."

"Don't be."

He presses his lips to her hair and hugs her close again. They're quiet for a while. Olivia tries to picture Fitz holding her in this position when she's much more pregnant: he would put his palm on her skin and feel their child moving, nudging him with its foot, saying hello. She can't imagine what it would feel like to have something growing and wriggling inside of her. How can one human body produce another, in just nine short months? It's mind-blowing.

"What have you been doing today?" she asks him, because her thoughts are making her feel uneasy.

"Running. I ran for miles, much further than I usually go. Central Park looks beautiful today. The leaves have almost all turned now. I was thinking how much I wanted you to be there with me; for us to be able to take a walk together."

Olivia raises her head and looks at him. "I want that too. So much."

"And if you decide to keep this baby…"

"… That will be even further away." They consider each other. "It's so complicated, Fitz."

"I know."

"I've been trying to make a list, pros and cons."

"And?" He looks like he doesn't really want to know the outcome.

She shrugs slightly. "I still don't know what to do."

"That's okay." He seems to have relaxed a little. "You've got time."

It doesn't feel like that, though. Every hour which goes by without a decision just makes her feel more and more unsure, more out of control.

"Are you still going to that party tonight?" he asks.

Shit.

"Oh god. I'd completely forgotten," she admits. It's a fundraiser for several local charities; she accepted the invitation months ago, promising to attend and raise their profile. In other words, it's not something she can back out of. "I guess I have to."

She looks at the clock on the coffee table and sees it's already half four. Fitz follows her gaze. "I should probably leave you to get ready soon," he says.

"You probably should." She snuggles into him even more, though. Everything seems better when he's here. Being alone is when she feels the most scared.

She realizes she should tell him those things, share her feelings - so she does.

"I'll always be here," he responds softly. "Always."

That word has new meaning for her now, since last night. 'I've loved you since the moment we met and I always will.'

She just wishes, more than anything, it was enough to make up her mind.


Stephen calls on Sunday evening. Olivia has spent the whole day alone again. She went swimming (Google told her that was fine) and then walked to the library, where she tucked herself away in a corner with a book for most of the afternoon. She's seen more pregnant women today than she can count, as well as parents with young children. Have there always been this many, or are they just coming out now to taunt her?

She's watched them all with fascination. Different shapes and sizes, different stages of pregnancy, different fashion choices. There's a couple she passes on the street who look to be about her age: the girl has an obvious baby bump beneath her coat and the guy is intermittently kissing her while she laughs. They look just as happy as she is with Fitz and she thinks: maybe.

Maybe that could be us.

And then comes the fear, the magazine headlines calling her a home-wrecker, a whore, and she turns away. Maybe they could do this - if it was simple.

"Hey Liv," Stephen says when she answers. She's reluctant to speak to anyone, honestly, but she hasn't contacted him since London and she feels like a bad friend. "How are you?"

"Hey. I'm okay, how are you?"

They chat for a while, making small talk, until he finally verbalizes what she knows he caught onto within the first minute of their conversation. "There's something wrong, isn't there? Is it Fitz?"

She sighs. Does she tell him the truth? He's known her for such a long time; maybe he can help. Before she can even consider the consequences, she's saying the words: "It's not Fitz. I'm... pregnant."

He's silent for a long moment. "Oh my god. Congratulations."

He means it as a question; it brings tears to her eyes, that he can read her so easily. "Oh Stevie, I'm so confused. I have no idea what to do."

"Have you told Fitz?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

Her voice cracks: "He told me he's in love with me."

"But what does he think?"

She shakes her head, even though Stephen can't see her. "He wouldn't tell me. He said it has to be my decision."

"So… what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I'm scared. Either way, my life is never going to be the same, is it?"

"No," he agrees. "Oh darling, I wish I could help you somehow."

"Do you think I could do it?" she asks quietly. Do you think I'm good enough?

His reply is instantaneous: "Of course you could. You would be an amazing mum, Liv. You're always amazing, at everything you do."

"But I don't know anything about babies-"

"Who does, really? And you don't have to know everything right now. You've got loads of time to learn."

She exhales. "I guess."

There's a pause. "Do you love Fitz, too?"

Olivia can't answer that. Stephen can't be the first to hear those words aloud.

"Okay," he continues patiently, "Let me ask you something else. Do you remember what I said to you, that night we had dinner in London?" When she doesn't speak, because her throat has tightened up, he goes on: "'He's the one, isn't he?' And you said…"

"Yes." The sound is so faint it's barely there. She's struggling to keep control of herself.

"I could see it even then," Stephen says gently. "You were already falling in love with him."

"But that doesn't mean we're ready to have a baby," she protests. "We barely know each other."

"I think you know him well enough by now to have figured out the kind of man he is."

"What if I'm wrong?" This is why talking to Stephen is good for her: he gets right to the crux of her problems. "What if my judgement is wrong again? Edison-"

"- Was a piece of shit. You have to let it go, Olivia. He's not in your life any more. This isn't his baby."

Those last words make her choke up. She and Fitz really do have a baby, already. It's not just a positive pregnancy test and a grainy picture on a screen: it's their baby.

"What do you think I should do?" she asks, desperately. She needs someone to tell her. If it can't be Fitz or her mom, it may as well be her friend.

"I can't say, sweetheart. You need to take some more time, to talk to Fitz again and find out what he wants."

"I think I already know."

That's a lie: she's known exactly what he wants to do from the moment he looked at her in the kitchen and wondered aloud if what made them happy might be two different things. Ever since then she's been able to see it in his eyes: that he's in so much pain, waiting for her; knowing she's contemplating the alternative, unable to speak his mind because he's afraid the weight of his feelings will bowl her over. She's never known anyone be so totally selfless before.

"Has this ever happened to you?" she asks Stephen, trying to block out that image of Fitz - the man who so desperately wants their child.

"What, have I found myself unexpectedly knocked up? No."

"You know what I mean."

She waits.

"It has. Once," he confesses.

Olivia wasn't expecting that. "What happened?"

"She said she was having an abortion; I agreed with her decision. But Liv, that was a completely different situation. It was years ago. I'd only slept with her a couple of times; we weren't in a relationship, nor were we ever going to be. It couldn't be further from what's happening right now between you and Fitz."

She's quiet while she absorbs his story. "Do you regret it?"

"No," he says honestly. "Sometimes I wonder, what if? But I wouldn't say I regret it. Anyway, it wasn't really my choice."

"I feel like this isn't mine. It should be ours."

"Then talk to him," Stephen presses. "You love each other. You're in a relationship which sounds like it's going to last. Fitz is a good man, he'll stick by you either way - I'm sure of it. So this isn't a question of your judgement, Olivia. The only decision you have to make is: do you want to have this baby with him, or not? And if not, then can you go through with an abortion?"

An abortion or a baby.

It always comes back to that, in the end.

She thanks Stephen for his help and hangs up. There's a missed call from Fitz, about twenty minutes before, and a text: Can I come over? I'll bring pizza.

Yes please, she replies. I'm starving.

This is it. She is going to make Fitz be honest with her, no matter what. She's tried and tried, but she just cannot do this on her own. She needs him more than ever.


It's been the strangest two days of Fitz's life.

Ever since Olivia uttered those fateful words in the dark, her small body shaking in his arms, his whole world has been turned upside down. He's so happy he might burst, and so terrified he doesn't know how he can cope with her indecision much longer. What if she decides she can't do it; what if she asks him to go to the clinic with her, to hold her hand? How could he possibly survive that?

He would, because he loves her - but it would destroy him. He'd never be the same again.

The truth is, he wants Olivia to have his baby more than anything he's ever wanted before. He's ready. It feels like he's always been ready. He's just been waiting here, for this to happen, all his life. And how can he tell her that, when she's so fragile, so afraid? How can he be honest? If she keeps the baby because of him, she will regret it forever and he can't do that to her. It would ruin her, and their child. She has to want it, and he has to stay silent and hope that she will. Hope against hope against hope.

He's tried to be there for her but it's hard. They've barely been in contact and he's actually glad, because that means she hasn't decided yet; that means she hasn't asked him what to do again. He's managed to get through most of the weekend without her: exercising too much; drinking far too many last night with Henry, until he became too intoxicated to even worry any more. He was still nursing the remnants of his hangover, his guilt, when they went out for a late lunch today with a couple of other friends. They sat beside a family, the young woman pregnant, her husband trying to feed a very cute toddler. Watching them made Fitz ache right down to his bones. This could be him and Olivia: a perfect picture of family life. Nothing in the world would make him happier.

He excused himself early, citing worsening nausea - which wasn't a lie. He lay on his bed all afternoon and wondered what to do. The only thought that kept coming back to him was: I need to tell her. I can't let that life slip away from me; not if there's the slightest chance she might want it too. He tried to push it down, to ignore it, but it fought against him until he had his phone in his hand and he was calling her.

It was engaged.

A moment's relief, and then the internal struggle was back on. Five minutes later, he was in his car on the way to pick up pizzas.

He's outside her door now, waiting nervously before he knocks. How can he say it, without coming across too forcefully? How can he keep himself together long enough to speak?

She looks beautiful when she answers. He thinks she might have been crying again but it doesn't matter. She is perfect.

"Hi," she says with a shy smile, taking the boxes from him with a kiss on his cheek. He wants to hold onto them, to protect himself.

"Hi."

He follows her through the living room, into the kitchen. "I called you," he says, stating the obvious.

"I know." She puts the pizzas down on the table and turns to him. "Sorry, I was talking to Stephen."

There are two possible options: either she hasn't told her friend about their situation and instead has been laughing and joking with him, or she's confessed their greatest secret. Both turn Fitz's blood to ice. His heart hurts, like it's been stabbed.

"What?"

He can see she knows instantly that she's made a mistake but in the heat of the moment, with all these crazy emotions jostling inside of him, he lets anger and jealousy come to the fore.

"So when I tried to call you, to find out how you are, to tell you that I-" He can't say it. Not now, not like this. "You were on the phone to another man? Did you tell him what's going on?"

She looks shocked, and ashamed. "Yes," she admits.

Betrayal washes over him. How could she do this? How could she turn to someone else instead of him?

"I don't understand," he breathes, desperately trying to calm himself down. He can't remember the last time he felt so angry and it's scaring him.

"I'm sorry," she says, pleading with him. "I just- I needed some advice, from someone who knows me."

"I know you!" he yells. He runs his hands through his hair, despairing. "At least I thought I did. It was supposed to be you and me in this together, Olivia!"

"It is." She has tears in her eyes and he feels nothing. "You do know me. You know me in ways no one else ever will. But there are things you don't know, events which happened before I met you."

"So this is about Edison?" he sneers, because he can't help it, and she explodes in front of him.

"Of course it is!" She comes towards him, shouting, enraged. Maybe it's catching. "My every insecurity is because of that man! How dare you belittle my feelings? You know nothing - nothing - about the ways he hurt me."

"Because you haven't told me!"

She's right in front of him now. They're both breathing hard, fighting themselves and each other. Olivia holds his gaze for several moments and he can see her deflating; the fury dissipating. Suddenly she just looks sad, and Fitz feels absolutely terrible. She sits down on one of the kitchen chairs and he follows suit, waiting. This is it, the final mystery; the key to understanding Olivia Pope.

"He was charming," she begins, her voice quiet. "A politics grad, a few years older than me. He took me on nice dates, made a fuss of me. It took me a long time to fall in love with him, but I did. I was finishing my degree at Yale, getting more and more involved in women's rights. Edison… didn't like that. He didn't say anything at first but I could tell.

"My friends never liked him, but I always told myself they didn't see the sweeter side of him, when he rubbed my back or bought me flowers. He still took me out, introduced me to his friends, showed me off. I guess I was his trophy, although I didn't realize it then.

"The problems began when I started to become successful; when we went to parties and people knew my name, not his. I hated his attitude but it made me more determined. I thought about breaking up with him several times but he always convinced me to stay. He was very… manipulative."

She sighs, fidgeting with her hands. It's clear to Fitz that she doesn't like this part of the story at all. "One night I was due to speak at an event by Amnesty International. Just a ten-minute presentation, but it was huge for me. Do you know what he did?"

Fitz shakes his head. He can't imagine.

"He cancelled it. He called the organizers with two hours to go and said something more important had come up." She's smiling, still in disbelief two years later. "We were going for dinner… with his parents. Can you believe that? The worst part was that he didn't even realize what he'd done was so wrong. My career, my ideals, my beliefs meant so little to him that he had no idea his behavior would hurt me. He said he loved me, but he fundamentally did not understand me. He didn't even know who I was."

She wipes away her tears. Fitz reaches out for her hand and she lets him take it. "I told him it was over that night. He could see I was serious, that he'd lost me for good this time. And so he said…" She swallows. "He said he didn't want me anymore, anyway. That he'd decided a while ago I wasn't good enough for him, I wasn't 'wife material'. He told me, perfectly honestly, that he'd never really loved me; that I was too 'complicated', too 'messy' to love.

"And that was it. I left, believing every word he'd said. I haven't seen him since."

She doesn't cry again. Maybe she can't, anymore.

Fitz stands and walks around the table, kneeling beside her so he can hold her close. "Livvie, I'm sorry you went through that. I'm so sorry. But listen to me." He draws back and looks at her, gazing straight into her dark brown eyes. "This is the most important thing I will say to you: your dreams are my dreams. Your happiness is my entire world. I believe in everything you do and I always will. I'll be your greatest champion because I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone; a thousand times more. You are the love of my life, Olivia."

Her expression, so scared, softens.

"Don't project another man's failings onto me," he goes on, willing her to trust him. Yes, what happened to her was horrible but if she can't get past it now, then what hope do they have? "That part of your life is over. He's not the one who's here, holding you. I'm not him. I'm never going to hurt you. Why can't you believe that?"

Something in her changes then. He can sense it; can see it in her eyes, in the way she sits just a little straighter. "I can," she says softly. "I will. I promise."

"You are worthy of love, Olivia. Say it."

She smiles. "I am worthy of love."

"Again."

"I am worthy of love."

He smiles too. It is so good to hear those words aloud, to see a little of her self-confidence returning.

"Thank you," she tells him solemnly. "Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for… everything. I'm so lucky to have you, Fitzy. I don't know what I'd do without you."

She kisses him and he savors her for as long as he can, trying to stay in the moment. But there's just one more thing he needs to do now, one more thing he has to tell her… One more obstacle they have to find their way around, together.

"Shall we eat?" she asks a minute later, running her fingertips over his face. "It's probably cold by now."

But he won't let her pull away. "Olivia." His voice falters and he can see she realizes the time has come.

"You want this baby, don't you?" she asks steadily, not breaking eye contact.

She knows. Oh, thank god.

His pause makes her speak again: "Just say it, Fitz. Let's not hide from each other anymore."

And with her permission, his dam finally breaks. "I really want this baby," he confesses, almost tripping over the words in his hurry to get them out. "I want this adventure with you. I want us to be Mommy and Daddy, to love and cherish this tiny human life we've created. I want to look after you when you're pregnant, to get excited with you about baby names, furniture, color schemes. I want to get up in the middle of the night to feed my son or daughter; to watch him or her grow and develop every single day. I'm ready, and I think we're ready too, as a couple. But if you're not… then I can't force you. I would never do that."

She looks taken aback. Has he said too much? He just couldn't stop himself, once he'd started.

"You've been thinking all of that," she murmurs, "for two whole days, and you didn't say anything?"

"I couldn't. I didn't want you to feel like you had to keep the baby, just for me. That would be a disaster for all of us."

All of us. Like there's three of them, already.

Olivia looks wary again. "Let's eat and talk."

They share out the pizzas and she shows him her list of pros and cons. Fitz reads it carefully. Everything she's written is completely understandable.

"What's worrying you the most?" he asks.

"Hurting you."

He glances at her, surprised. That's not on the list. "I'll be okay. It won't change the way I feel about you. We can have a baby later, when you feel ready."

"But what if we can't?"

He's thought about this too. Maybe that's just the risk they'll have to take. "Then we'll deal with that when it happens."

She sighs, nibbling at her crust. "I'm scared I'll never get over an abortion. A lot of women say they think about it every day afterwards. What if I regret it? What if it tears us apart, no matter how hard we try?"

Fitz knows he has to be honest with her, even though it pains him. "It might. But having a baby you don't want a hundred percent will do that too, and that will be much worse."

She's quiet for a while, thinking as she eats. "We need a plan," she says eventually. "I need to know exactly how this will work if we decide to keep it. What will happen with your divorce, when we'll reveal our relationship, my…"

She gestures to her abdomen again. She seems to have trouble saying 'pregnancy'.

"We need to write the narrative before anyone finds out, Fitz. We need to be in control of it at all times. Do you think it's even possible we could pull this off?"

"Yes," he says truthfully. "At the end of the day, it's just journalists and stories. You're in human rights; they can't paint you as a bad person, it won't stick. And if you're happy, if we're happy, then who cares?"

"I care. Maybe that's selfish, but I do. I can't help it. I don't want the whole world to hate me."

"Why would they do that? We fell in love, Livvie. I was already separated. Sure it's fast, but when you know, you know - right? We don't have to say any more than that. We don't have to give them your due date. We can be vague, pretend you're not as far along as you are."

She's gazing at him, thinking hard. Is he convincing her? God, he hopes so.

"I… don't know," she says at length. She pushes her plate away. "I'm still struggling. I want to say yes, I want to see what you see, but I can't. I'm not ready."

"Then that's okay." Fitz stands up. He understands, but he needs to get out of here because otherwise he'll be on his knees, begging her to keep their child.

"You're leaving?"

"I have to. You need more time."

She walks with him to the door. It's obvious his sudden departure has unsettled her. "I miss you," she says, hugging him.

"I miss you too. Will you… call me, when you're ready?"

She nods, wiping tears from her eyelashes. It feels like they're saying goodbye.

"I'll see you... later," she whispers.

"Bye, Livvie." He kisses her forehead and then he's gone.

The next time they see each other, her decision will be made - and his life will be changed forever.


Monday afternoon finds Olivia sitting on a street bench a few doors down from a doctor's clinic. It's in a busy part of town with several stores and coffee shops nearby, so she doesn't look suspicious. She realized last night, after Fitz left, that she didn't even know what an abortion would involve. She went online and the words she read were running through her mind all night, keeping her awake: surgical termination, mifepristone, products of conception. It sounded terrifying. She needed to find out more.

And yet, as she lay staring at the ceiling, she couldn't stop thinking about Fitz's description of their little family, too. She woke up this morning scared, but for entirely different reasons than before. Now she's scared because she can see herself pregnant: she's spent all morning daydreaming about how she would style herself and wondering whether her favorite designer labels do maternity wear. When she closes her eyes she can see Fitz holding their tiny newborn baby, a look of total love lighting up his face. The more she imagines it, the more real it becomes; the more real it is, the happier that makes her feel.

As it turns out, the only thing scaring her today is the fact that she's not actually scared at all, anymore. And now she's here, trying to cross the threshold into this private clinic to discuss the possibility of ending his dream. And hers, too?

Maybe.

She shakes her head. She just wants to be armed with all the information before she finally decides and that has to be soon, because this uncertainty is killing her. The problem is, she's run out of courage: she used it all up to get here, knowing how Fitz feels, and now she's stuck outside. She has been, for almost an hour. She's almost too late for her appointment for it to matter, but she can't move either way.

An abortion or a baby.

She's at the crossroads, right now.

"Liv?" She turns. It's Abby, coming towards her, coffee in hand. "Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I'm just…" Olivia can't think of a good excuse. Her office is ten blocks away, her apartment beyond that. She shrugs slightly and Abby, clearly sensing something is wrong, takes a seat beside her.

"Is everything okay?"

Olivia leans forward, resting her head in her hands. Should she confess? It didn't turn out so well when she told Stephen, but what else can she do? She looks sideways, gazing at her best friend who looks so concerned. Then she sits up and leans in close enough to whisper it.

"I'm pregnant."

"What?"

"Ssh."

"Sorry. I meant, what?" Abby whispers. It's makes Olivia smile.

"You heard."

She looks totally stunned. "Are you sure? Tests can be wrong."

"I've seen it, Abs. There's a little black and white dot in my uterus… it has a heartbeat." And it hits her then, for the very first time: she doesn't want to end this life, despite all the problems she might come up against. She doesn't want to kill her and Fitz's child. She can't.

"I need to get hold of Fitz."

"Does he know?"

"Of course. But I didn't tell him I was coming here and now I don't know what to do."

"Call him. I'll wait with you."

Abby is staring at her like she's never seen her before, watching her dial Fitz's mobile and then his office, when the former goes unanswered. She leaves a message as Maya Thomas, telling his secretary it's urgent and asking if she can please interrupt his meeting, just this once.

"I can't believe this," her friend keeps saying, until Olivia has to stop her. "Sorry. I'm just so shocked."

"How do you think I feel?"

Abby hugs her then. "I can't even imagine."

Her phone rings. "That's him."

"I'll be over here." Abby gets up and wanders a little way down the street, pretending to be interested in the window of a bookstore.

Olivia is so nervous as she answers the call. "Hi."

"Hi. What's wrong? I'm in meetings."

He actually sounds annoyed. She inhales, filling her lungs with cold October air, and forgives him. She knows how hard this has been for him.

"I'm at… a clinic." Olivia forces herself to say it. Be brave, just for a little bit longer. "An abortion clinic."

"What?" His voice is almost non-existent. She thinks she can hear him falling apart.

"I was only coming for information, I swear. I would never have made that decision without you."

He takes several deep, steadying breaths. "Okay. So, why are you calling?"

"I've been outside the front door for the last hour and I can't go inside because… Because our baby is growing inside me, Fitz. It's getting bigger every day until it's an actual human being. That's… amazing. It's a miracle. And I haven't been able to walk away from here because if I do, I'll never come back. That will be my decision made."

He doesn't speak for several moments, clearly trying to work out what she's trying to say beneath all of that. "What do you want me to do?" he asks eventually. He sounds tired, like he was awake the whole night too.

"I just need you to tell me again. Tell me what you think we should do."

"Liv… This isn't my decision." He's choking up, the words getting caught in his throat. "I can't do this."

"Just say it, Fitz. Say it and I'll agree with you. I'm ready."

There are tears filling her eyes, falling onto her skin. This is it. This is the decision she's making, with the man she loves by her side. This is the moment everything she's ever known begins to change, forever. And it is scary - but she knows she won't ever regret it.

"Wait there," he says hoarsely. "Don't move, I'm coming for you."

"Your meetings-"

"Fuck them."

She laughs, breathless with anticipation, butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach. It's a well-known feeling around him: everything they've done together has been crazy, unexpected; ridiculous even… And it's all worked out well so far.

She sends Fitz her location and Abby reappears, looking a little sheepish. "Well?" she asks.

"He's coming to pick me up."

Olivia can't even hope to hide her smile.

"What are you gonna do?"

"I'll tell you soon. I need to see Fitz, first."

"Okay." Her friend is eyeing her suspiciously, trying to figure her out. "Well, I have to get back to the office. You know where I am if you need someone."

"I do. Thank you."

They hug again before Abby leaves. Olivia sits back down, her mind swirling with this new life she's just entered into. She wants to go shopping for baby clothes; to buy a book about pregnancy and read it cover-to-cover in one sitting. But more than anything, she wants to see the love of her life and make him as happy and excited as she is right now.

He's there in five minutes. She gets into the passenger seat, reaching over to kiss him. "How are you?" she asks softly. He doesn't speak, just drives off again. "Where are we going?"

"Somewhere more private."

The tension in the car is palpable. They're both lost in their own thoughts. Olivia's hand is resting on her abdomen and every so often she catches Fitz glancing over, taking note. Is he picturing her in a few months' time, too? When she has a little baby bump sitting beneath her shirt, when their secret is out in the open? When he gets to put his arm around her in public and tell the whole world she's his girlfriend, and they're going to be parents?

He drives for about fifteen minutes, all the way to Randall's Island. They finally pull over on the side of the road, overlooking the river. There's no one else around. He takes off his seat belt and turns to her.

"Livvie."

She gives him the most serene smile. "Yes."

And it's not a question, but an answer.

"I haven't said anything yet."

"Go on, then."

He pauses, his gaze searching hers, making absolutely sure he hasn't read this wrong. "We're going to have a baby," he murmurs, his voice full of emotion.

She nods; she's already crying again. "Yes. Yes, we are."

The biggest smile she's ever seen breaks over his face, the one he's been trying to hold back since the news first passed her lips three days ago. He pulls her into his arms, holding her so tightly she thinks he might break her - but that's okay. She just laughs softly and nuzzles his neck.

"I can't believe it," he says. He moves back to look at her again and there are tears on his lashes. "What made you decide?"

"Lots of things. But mainly you."

He frowns. "I didn't mean to-"

"Don't worry, baby." She takes his hands, reassuring him. "I want this. It was our decision. I'm sure."

A smile finds its way back onto his lips. "I feel like the luckiest man in the world."

"I feel like the luckiest girl."

Olivia kisses him again, harder this time. When they eventually break apart, she falls into the blue of his eyes without even trying. "I love you too, Fitz," she breathes. "I'm in love with you, too."

They're the truest words she's ever said and they mark the beginning of the next chapter of her life, wherever that might take her - and her brand new family.


TBC

A/N: I have to say thank you, to the vast majority of you. Your support has been incredible, no matter what your feelings about my story line. I hope I've made you happy; I know I am. I'm so excited to keep telling this story and I hope you'll be there too. Happy Holidays!