A/N: Back to the present.

August 24, 2013 – Night of the High School Reunion

Olivia POV

She turned, looking at him, 10 years had barely changed him. He was still beautiful. She could feel that electrical spark that flared when she was in his presence. Smiling tightly, "I'm good, how are you?"

"I've been better, it's great to see you," standing there, he let his eyes wash over her. She was still slim as ever, no glasses, luminescent skin, eyes that glowed with life. "What have you been up to over the past 10 years?" he asked.

"Working in London for a law firm, how about you?" she asked.

"I went to Yale and then went to law school, I'm working for Nichols and Palmers, a law firm in New York," he said.

"Can we go somewhere quieter and talk about what happened 10 years ago?" she asked bluntly.

Fitz followed her, they left the main room and walked off to a quiet antechamber. Olivia shut the door behind Fitz. "I'm so sorry about what happened, my father died of a heart attack three days ago, I didn't even know if I was going to be able to come here. When I left, my father and I made a deal as long as I didn't step foot back on American soil while he was alive, he would leave you and I alone."

Olivia stood there, a broken shell of a woman, wondering if he was married, if he had moved on. "I don't expect you to have waited for me all these years? You're probably married with kids, or engaged or have a girlfriend?" Cringing, she waited to hear his answer.

"I'm single," his husky baritone reassured her. But he didn't come to take her in his arms. "I'm sorry that your father hated me so much because my father had an affair with your mother, that he couldn't bear to have me near you, but I don't think we can go back to the way that things were." Turning, he left the room quietly.

Olivia broke down, her sobs wracking her body. Her heart was breaking again, the door opened slowly, "Oh Olivia," a soft voice said before slim arms held her close. Abby.

"Why does he hate me so much?" Olivia cried out. Her voice cracking as she looked at Abby through blurry eyes.

"He doesn't hate you Liv, he's just weary of getting his heart broken again, while you've been in London the past 10 years, he's been here, waiting for you to return, he would visit Grandma Rose every month, he still hasn't spoken to his father in the past 10 years, he's missed you, I just think he's afraid to show his heart to you," Abby tried to explain.

Olivia softly sobbed in her arms. "Doesn't he think that I didn't go through my own hell, I had my own hell to live through. I haven't been with another man since him in 10 years. I've been a shell."

"Come on, let's go fix your make up," Abby helped her out of the antechamber and they walked down the hall till they found a bathroom.

Abby watched while Olivia fixed her make up with a shaky hand, "I'm going to have to show him that I want him," fire in her heart. She walked out the door with determination.

Walking back into the main reception, she walked into the fray of people. Looking around, she spotted Fitz in a group of men. Quickly, she moved over to stand behind him, tapping him on the shoulder, she grabbed him by the shoulders as he turned and kissed him.

Shocked, he stood still for a minute, then she felt his response, slow at first, then more passionate. The guys standing there started to clap. Pulling back, Fitz stared at her, questions in his eyes, his cheeks flushed, a dark red.

"I have something to tell you, please come with me," she grabbed his hand and dragged him behind her.

Walking back to the antechamber, they'd just been in, she shut the door. "Please let me speak before you leave." Taking a deep breath, she pulled out her purse and started rifling through it, she pulled out a picture, looking at it. Her eyes glimmered with tears.

"This is your son, Fitzgerald Grant the fourth, I could only name him after you, the love of my life," she handed the picture to Fitz. He stood there stone cold frozen and shocked.

Like a robot, he took the picture, he saw a younger version of him that he recognized in the eyes, the curly hair. He was a mixture of him and Olivia. His skin was a blend of his paleness and Olivia's darkness. He continued to stare at the picture.

"Please say something?" Olivia pleaded. Her eyes darted from the picture to him, back and forth, nervously.

"What does he know about me?" Fitz's raw voice asked her.

"He knows that you live over here and that because of his grandfather, that he can't see you, but now that his grandfather is dead, he can see you," Olivia said huskily, tears in her eyes.

"Where is he?" Fitz asked. Still looking at the picture, his fingers traced over the image repeatedly.

"He's back in London, I wanted to make sure it was safe before I brought him over here, I needed to make sure my father was dead and there was no threat of you and I seeing each other," Olivia said.

"My son, when was he born?" Fitz had sunk into a chair now, still staring at the picture.

"April 30th 2004, at 6:26 a.m., he was 9 pounds 4 ounces, he was a healthy baby," Olivia looked at Fitz, unable to imagine how he felt in that minute.

Fitz still sat in the chair, looking at the picture, shock still on his face. Olivia dropped to her knees at his side, "I'm so sorry I wasn't able to share him with you." She laid her head on his lap.

Fitz reached out to touch her hair, stroking it slowly, "I want to see my son," he said.

"He's booked on a flight to land in Los Angeles tomorrow at 1pm, one of my work friends, Nancy is escorting him," Olivia said.

Fitz looked at her, "I know that what happened was out of your control, but my son, Olivia, I've had a son for almost 10 years that I didn't know existed, damn it," he shouted.

"Don't you think it was hard for me to look at him every day and see you and know that I couldn't tell you because my father would have you killed, I curse him every day and now that he's dead, I hope he's in hell, I'm sorry Fitz, I love you," she threw herself into his arms. Sobbing, she held onto him for dear life.

Fitz held her loosely, not knowing what to do, he felt for her, but part of him was still angry. "I need time to think about this," standing up and separating himself from her, "I'm keeping this," he held out the picture and put it in his jacket pocket.

"Fitz," Olivia screamed at him as he stormed out of the room. Falling to her knees for the second time that night, she let out her anger, fear and tears.

Thoughts?