Pain is a funny thing. Everyone experiences it differently. Everyone copes with it differently. Some people drink. Others eat. Some clean or retreat within themselves. But everyone, everyone has a coping mechanism because everyone experiences pain. Some will never know the pain of love lost and others learn far too early. Some know the pain of seeing lives cut far too short and others may never experience that horror. People break bones, break promises, break hearts.
Pain is a horrible thing; a heartbreaking thing. Pain can change you. Pain can steal the light in her eyes. But its a funny thing because pain, pain is never the same.
4 Years Earlier: Boston, Massachusetts
"Liv, please," Abby pleaded. "You have to come with me."
"I can't, Abby. I can't go back there."
"Oh come on, Liv."
"How am I supposed to go there and not see him? You and Stephen will be just fine without me."
Olivia slumped down in her desk chair and closed her eyes. It was almost summer. Last year, she and Abby had gone to Santa Barbara to intern for the summer at the firm her friend Stephen worked at. Olivia enjoyed working there. She was good, great actually, at her job and she liked all the people she met but then... Fitz. Fitz. She couldn't go back. What if she saw him? What if she didn't? There was no way she could be so close to him and not see him. Even though they were thousands of miles apart she had to constantly stop herself from running to him. She wouldn't, couldn't, go.
"Liv," Abby said softly. "At least come to the party tonight. You have been miserable for almost a year. You need to do something fun."
Olivia sighed and looked up at her friend. Abby looked genuinely concerned for her and Olivia felt guilty for making her feel that way.
"Okay"
She rifled through her closet desperately. They were leaving for the party in five minutes and she hadn't picked an outfit. Every article of clothing she selected was too something. Too prudish, too slutty. Too tight, too loose. Too much like something Fitz would love. Crap, she thought. Quit thinking about him! She shook her head and quickly selected her favorite pair of dark wash jeans.
Reaching for a tank top, her hand hovered over Fitz's sweater in her closet. She gingerly reached out to touch the fabric and let out a quiet sigh. The memory was vivid. They sat on top of a hill on a rare chilly Santa Barbara night discussing hopes and dreams, plans for the future, trading silly stories. All it took was one miniscule shiver and he had handed his sweater over. No questions asked. No arguments allowed. Insistent that she take and keep it.
In the days after she left Santa Barbara it had been a comfort. A silent reminder that he loved her. In the days after he left her it had been self imposed torture. She would put it on only to break down in tears. Now, now it stayed in her closet. A hidden reminder of her pain.
She shook her head again, almost violently this time, trying desperately to rid her memory of the way he had looked at her. The pure love that radiated from him. That look in his eye that said I want to kiss you until you forget your name. Forgetting him was, however, proving to be a near impossible task.
She stepped back from the closet and threw her outfit on quickly. A quick glance in the mirror and she left, trying to convince herself it would be fun.
"A shot of tequila, please," Olivia yelled to the bartender.
"Make that two."
Olivia turned her head and rolled her eyes when she discovered a strange man standing beside her giving her a grin.
"No one should be drinking tequila alone. Tequila is what you drink when you want to feel no pain."
"Do I know you," she replied coolly.
He smiled at her widely and stuck his hand out. "Not yet. My name is Jake."
"Olivia."
"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl." He smiled at her again and she suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for being rude to him. He seemed nice.
"Listen, Jake, I appreciate the offer for company but I'm really not interested in..."
"Whoa," he said cutting her off, "It's just a shot. Come on, I'm a good listener."
"One shot."
The bartender placed two shots of tequila in front of them,along with two slices of lime and a salt shaker. Jake handed him cash before Olivia could even reach for her wallet. She looked up at him to protest but he was already holding his glass up waiting. Olivia smiled and picked up her glass. She shook some salt onto the back of her hand, licked it up and tossed back the shot, finding comfort in the burn at the back of her throat. She quickly bit into the lime and tossed it into the glass, setting it down.
Jake smirked and she realized he was impressed with how easily she had taken the shot. She signaled to the bartender for another round and quickly paid him before Jake could. They took the second shot and he turned to face her.
"Impressive."
"Thanks."
"So tell me about him."
"W-what," she stuttered.
"Tell me about him. The guy who broke your heart. No girl as beautiful as you comes to a club and stands alone at the bar drinking tequila unless some guy broke your heart. So tell me about him."
Olivia looked up at him and then turned, motioning to the bartender for another shot, and turned her gaze down to the bar top.
"He's in my head all the time."
"So," Abby said as they walked back to their rooms later that night. "Who was the cutie you were talking to?"
Olivia looked at her for a second with a puzzled look on her face. "Who... oh. Jake."
"Yes. Jake. Tell me all about him. Did you make out? Do you love him? Are you going to do it?"
"Abby," she said through laughter.
"What come on, Liv. You're miserable. You hide it well but I know you. Its been almost a year and you're miserable."
"I'm not ready. It still hurts."
"You know they say the best way to get over a guy is to get under someone else!"
"Abby!" Olivia stared at her friend for a minute with her mouth agape before dissolving in hysterical laughter. She calmed down after a few minutes and just shook her head at the redhead.
"Thanks, Abs. I needed that. I'm going to bed. Night."
4 Years Earlier: Santa Barbara, California
"Mr. Grant, thank you for agreeing to this. I know it might seem strange, a solo marriage counseling session, but I believe it will be beneficial for you and your wife."
Fitz sat down on the couch in the therapist's office and sighed softly. He and Mellie had been going to therapy for almost a year now. The first woman, after 2 monthly visits no less, had essentially deemed them a lost cause and suggested divorce. Mellie then insisted that she was a quack despite her impressive credentials and demanded they get a second opinion.
True to form she blamed the first doctors opinion solely on him. According to his wife, he wasn't participating properly. She was probably right. But how could he participate in a charade? It was all ridiculous. Everything was so incredibly ridiculous.
"Doctor," he said quietly, "can I be frank with you?"
"Of course, Mr. Grant."
"I don't love my wife."
"And why is that?"
"Honestly, I don't think I ever did. Mellie is a beautiful woman. Smart. Ambitious. But I don't feel love. We got married because we were supposed to. Because I am a Grant and we marry lovely DAR WASP women. Because my father and her father set us up and it seemed like the logical next step. But love... I don't think love is very logical, Doc."
"What is love then, Mr. Grant?"
"I don't know for sure. I used to think love was a fairytale. Something reserved for little girls in princess crowns."
"And now?"
"I think love is the look in her eye when she says I love you too or the way her lips curl when she smiles. The way... the way her eyes light up when she sees something awe inspiring."
"Not to be presumptuous but is there a particular she?"
"Yes. Did you know I tried to divorce Mellie last year?"
"No. You never told me that."
"Things between Mellie and I were never perfect but they weren't bad when we first got married. But after awhile... it just... I realized I wasn't happy. And then I met her."
"Who is her?"
"Olivia. She was here for 3 months interning at a law firm. We became friends but I very quickly realized I had feelings for her. Real serious feelings. I loved...love her."
"So what happened?"
Fitz sighed and sat forward, rubbing his hand over his face and through his hair.
"The accident."
"Mellie's accident?"
He nodded sadly.
"Yes. I had the papers delivered to her house because she refused to divorce amicably. She left, in a rage, to come find me and she crashed. She could have died."
"But she didn't."
"She didn't. But she could have. I felt so incredibly guilty and selfish. I vowed forever to this woman and she almost died. I felt responsible."
"Why?"
"Because... I was so desperate to be with Olivia and mad at Mellie for not being reasonable that I just sent her papers. I knew she'd get mad but to almost die..."
He covered his face and let the sobs that had been threatening to release flow free. He had so much guilt. He felt responsible. For Mellie's accident. For Olivia's pain. For everything.
The doctor just sat there, watching him, occasionally scribbling notes. After a while, Fitz was able to collect himself, taking several deep cleansing breaths.
"If you don't love your wife and you want to be with this Olivia, why are we here?"
Fitz sighed then. It was a long sigh. The kind of sigh one releases when the weight of the truth is bearing down and life seems unfair.
"I am a coward."
"Why is that?"
"Mellie...she waited...until our parents arrived at the hospital. To suggest therapy. All of those eyes on me. I felt compelled to agree."
"That's how you came to see me?"
"Yes."
"And how did Olivia take the news?"
"Not well. She was so upset. She... thinks I lied to her about my marriage. I so badly wanted to tell her to wait for me. I couldn't do that though."
"Mr. Grant. I think the best advice I can give you is to first and foremost forgive yourself. You did not cause your wife's accident. A man texting while driving did. Secondly, you need to decide what you want. Marriage is about a lot of things. Compromise. Partnership. Friendship. Trust. But off the record, I personally think it should be deeply rooted in love."
Fitz shifted on the couch and looked at the therapist, considering his words carefully. He leaned back and released another sigh but this time it was almost one of relief.
"I don't love my wife."
Fitz laid in bed that night, tossing and turning. His mind was a jumble of words and moments. His history with Mellie, his time with Olivia, the doctors words, they all floated around in his head.
His mind finally landed on Olivia and the sound of her voice when he had told her how he felt. That had been true love. The lurch of his heart when he saw her. He sat up quickly in bed, clicking on the light and grabbing his laptop.
Dear Olivia,
There are a thousand words I could use to tell you how sorry I am and how much I love you but I know they are worth nothing unless I can back them up with actions.
One day, I hope to be the man you deserve. And maybe then, I will be able to show you just how real my feelings are. In the meantime, I want you to know that you are an incredible woman and I am hopelessly in love with you.
Always yours,
Fitz.
He reread the email a hundred times but when it came time to hit send he couldn't. His finger hovered over the mouse pad but no movement was made. What if she didn't love him anymore? What if she didn't want him anymore? What if she had moved on? A million questions and he didn't have a single answer. He wasn't even sure he deserved an answer.
He closed the laptop and signed heavily, hoping for sleep to take over so he could stop thinking. Eventually he slept but it was haunted with visions of Olivia in the arms of another man.
4 Years Earlier: Boston, Massachusetts
Olivia rolled over in bed and stared at her phone, trying to will it to ring. She felt like she couldn't breathe. Like the walls were closing in on her in her tiny room at Harvard and the closet was staring her down. You're going crazy, she thought as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed to stretch.
She made her way over to the closet and gingerly opened the door. Fitz's sweater was staring her in the face and she couldn't stop herself. She reached out and pulled it on, wrapping herself up in the soft warmth. Somehow, and she didn't know how considering how often she wore it at first, it still smelled like him.
Climbing back in bed, she pulled the covers up and curled into a ball, giving herself the freedom to truly miss Fitz for the first time in months. After crying for what she could only imagine was hours she drifted off to sleep, thoughts of Fitz and his wife reconciled and happy filling her head.
A/N: Do you hate me yet? I know a lot of people don't like Jake but I promise he's not a contender for her heart or anything. I just needed a guy for that scene. He may pop back up but he's a plot device. Olitz is end game and I promise, they ending will be happy. I won't depress you for too much longer. Like maybe 3 more chapters. :) I want to show how they cope with being apart before I can bring them together. Let me know what you think. Reviews make me happy.