Sorry it took me a while to update; I had an exam yesterday. But I'm finally done with school - YAY! This chapter is flashbacks/current time. Flashbacks are wedding - month before the wedding - engagement - wedding night (so they aren't in a neat timeline). Hope you'll like... Also, don't freak out.
"Mom, you ready?"
A deep breath – in – out; shoulders back; head high; step out.
"Wow." Zoey is mesmerized. Speechless, for the first time in her life.
"Liv, you look stunning."
"Thank you honey." She kisses the top of Karen's head, and then lays a kiss on Zoey's cheek. "Ready?" And with that they're on their way. It's not the most important day, or the most defining day of her life. No, those, those are yet to come. But this one, this one is magnificent. It's perfect. It's her, it's him, it's them. Dancing, swaying; the city moving beneath their feet. They're surrounded by smiles, by happy eyes. They're surrounded by love. His hand is low on her back; their cheeks almost touching, but no, it's just electricity. His eyes, they tell her everything; they tell their story. And hers, hers tell a story of love, a promise of a life to come. It's a day to look back on with a smile, a memory to make you feel better for a little while.
"Fitz! Fitz!" But the line is dead. There's no one on the other end. No one. Dead. And she can't breathe. No, there's no air. There's nothing there. He's not there. She's dropping the phone and stumbling to the ground. Zoey runs out of her room. Her mouth opening, but her mother doesn't hear a sound. She can't make a sound. No silence. Silence.
The house is quiet. Silent. She's chopping up some carrots. Trying to pass the time. Time until tonight. Time until he comes back. That's all she does – tries to pass time. Time, all this time. He's been gone. Gone for a while. He comes back, but then he leaves; he leaves and she worries. Six months of hellos and goodbyes; of lingering hugs. Six months of trying to breathe him in, trying to live before he leaves. Six months of phone calls; of broken lines; of emails and half-smiles. Six months of being engaged; of wondering every morning when she wakes up alone, wondering – if it was all a dream.
"Honey, I'm home." He closes the door and drops his bag to the floor.
Her head shoots up in the direction of the voice, "You're back early!" She's running towards him, jumping into his embrace. Her arms are wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist; she's burying her head in the crook of his neck. "God, I've missed you."
"I can tell." He's pulling her head away, his hand cupping her cheek, she's leaning into it. And at first it's a soft kiss, but then it's desperate and it's deep; it's what they've missed. She's undressing him and all he can utter is, "Zoey?"
"Mom. Back at five. We've got time." With that they're done talking; words are no longer enough; this is physical, it's primal; essential.
They're coming down from their high; their breathing fast, synchronized.
"I've missed that." They both chuckle; phone sex just can't compare. "Why don't we shower and I'll call mom and we can pick Zo up. She wasn't expecting you until tonight. And I want to witness that surprise."
"I'm sorry, did you say something. Because you lost me after – we and shower."
"Funny. Go, get the water started. And I'll be there as soon as I call mom."
"I'm coming to get you in five." He says with a mischievous grin, before giving her a quick kiss. He slowly drags his fingers across her body, making her shudder, before he smirks again, satisfied by the way she arched her back, and says, "I'll see you in five."
They're walking down a busy street, hand in hand, it's the perfect fit.
"So you liked it?"
"I loved it. It's the best thing you've written… yet." He squeezes her hand in return, because he can't tell her, no there are no words, how much her faith means to him, how important her encouragement is. He's a man of words, he molds them, joins them, plays with them; he creates magic with words; he voices unthought-of ideas, feelings not-yet defined; he reads a mind then writes it – for everyone. He's a man of words, but with her there are no words, no words good enough for her. She squeezes his hand back, then asks, voice weak and cracked, "When do you have to go back?" This breaks his heart every time; but he can't stop; he could choose, and every time it would be her, but he knows she doesn't want him to.
"Not until after the wedding."
Her face instantly lights up, "You're here for the whole month?"
"I'm here for the whole month." He kisses her softly, just to affirm.
"Fitz!" And it's a shriek, a scream, a sound unlike anything. He looks at Liv and drops her hand with a smile, bending down to meet the pair of fiery eyes running towards him. She lunges at him with so much force that it takes him by surprise; she holds on tight, he lifts her up. "You're back." Now it's soft, almost a whisper, "I've missed you."
"Oh, Zo, you have no idea." They stay like that, in their embrace, for a little while. The cars passing, the city bustling – none of it distracting. Liv is smiling. This, them, it's everything, her every dream.
Maybe it was all a dream. Her eyes still closed, but she's no longer asleep. She wakes up and looks around; her mom is sitting on the couch. Her face, her face is a giveaway – no dream; it was real. And all she has is silent tears. Her mom moves over, puts her head in her lap.
"Cy is on the phone. Tyring to find out…" And her voice trails off. It's too soon. Too soon to speak of it; even if all they do is think of it. Instead – silent tears.
"That was Cy." She looks up, his naked form outlined by the moonlight. She knows what he'll say; she knows what's coming her way. She doesn't want to hear it. No, right now is too good; too perfect. "I have to go back."
"We just got engaged."
"They need me back. They just bombed the orphanage." She looks away, because in that moment all she sees where he stands is – absence. She looks away because her eyes can't hide; her eyes can't lie. She looks away. She can feel the bed shifting on the other side. She can feel his breath on her bare back. She can feel his hand; his fingers gently brushing against her cheek, putting away a loose strand of hair. "Livvy." It's soft and it's deep; his voice, her everything.
She's looking away. He's whispering. His lips brushing against her ear. Whispers. The love, it's all so clear. "Livvy, look at me." She turns around, slowly; her body shifting; but her eyes, they still hide.
"I don't want you to go."
"I know. And I don't want to go."
"But you're going anyway."
She gets out of bed and pulls his shirt over her head. She makes her way to the bathroom, locking the door; sliding her back against it, until she's on the floor. She wants him to stay; but he should go; she has to let him go. She can hear him breathing on the other side; she can hear his mind; racing, struggling.
"I can't ask you to stay. I know you'd do it. But you'd resent me for it. You would. One day. And you, you are great. You need to be out there. Because your writing, it's magical. It changes the world; it changes minds. It's powerful and influential. It can save lives."
She's trying to stand up. She needs to see him. She needs to find him. But she's sedated. She's groggy and her legs wobbly. Her mom looks up. "Liv, honey, you should sit down."
But she can't. No, she can't just sit. She can't just wait. She can't do – noting. She can't live with nothingness. So she's up, trying to make her way. To the window. She needs to look up; she needs to see the stars. She needs to know he's alright. But then there's a sharp pain and she's bending over her growing belly; her hand clutching into a fist, her face grimacing. She's trying to speak. But there's nothing. Just stars, stars before her eyes and then darkness, nothingness.
"OK. Close your eyes." She does. He lifts her up and she lets out a loud laugh.
"Are you really going to carry me in? That's so corny."
"Shush. You're my wife. And it's good luck. And frankly, we've had crap luck; so I want to do this right." She opens her eyes and looks up.
"We've had the best luck. We ended up… We got us." He smiles. But then there's a flash of panic on his face.
"Crap. The card. It's in my pocket." She's laughing again.
"You could just put me down."
"No. We just got married. I am doing this."
"Fine. Which pocket?" And she's grabbing his ass; her eyes playing with his, teasing.
"Tux." She slips her fingers in and pulls it out. She slides it into the lock and pushes open the door. Candlelight. Hundreds and hundreds of candles; the room of dancing flames.
"Surprise." She's looking up, at him, his eyes, the red fire reflected in the dark. And then she's kissing him, they're stumbling. Falling into the future.
They're lying on the bed. The candles slowly burning out – one by one. She gets up and doesn't bother putting anything on. She finds her clutch and takes a deep breath. She's sitting on the bed, clutch in hand, looking at him. He reaches out playfully, his hand making her way to her breast.
"I have something for you."
"I thought we said no gifts." There's a hint of panic. It's adorable, charming. She's pushing the clutch in his hands, nervously smiling.
"Just open it." And he does. And he just stares at it for a while. His eyes affixed, wide; but then, then they disappear in a smile as he lifts it up.
"We're pregnant." And he's kissing her, like it's the first time, like it's the last time – like there's no time. They're kissing. The time ticking.
He's standing next to the window, the lone candle still flickering in the dark. She walks up to him and wraps her hands around his body; resting her head on his back.
"What you thinking."
"I'm not going back. After this time. This is the last one. The last three months." She lifts her head up and he turns around, reading her mind. "You're not asking me. I'm staying. I want to stay. This, this is more important. Being here with you, it's more important than saving the world."
"Are you sure? Because you don't have to… We can, you can still be away. We can figure out a way to-"
"No. This, us, our family – it's all I need. I hate leaving. And I hate being away. As much as you hate staying behind. And, it gets more difficult every time. So this, this is the last time. Three months and then I'm done. The story will carry on. But, I, I'm done."
"Two more days and I'm back. Two more days and we can pick out baby names, we can pick out onesies and color schemes; and I can massage your swollen feet. I can come to your appointments and hear the heartbea-" There's a loud noise. There's heat. There's fire and light. Falling. Free falling. There's fire. And there's light. And the light. It's swallowing him up. He's disappearing. All he can hear si screaming. Somewhere. Far away. She's calling his name.
"Fitz! Fitz!" And then the line is dead. There's no one on the other end. No one. Dead.
So keep the pitchforks at bay, it's still not done; no one's gone; haven't killed anyone, yet. I'll try to update tomorrow, save you guys the wait. Also, just in case anyone cares - they got married on the same rooftop where they got engaged.
Thanks for reading and reviewing and let me know your predictions and guesses – I'm curious.