She wondered if he knew that she knows what he had done. She wondered if he knew that she knows he had destroyed their relationship and that there was no way of ever fixing it.
Sitting across from him at the table at the restaurant, she was lost in another world. His lips were moving, his eyes were still glowing, so she knew he was still talking to her. She believed that he maybe was even still in love with her. So how could he have done that to her? To them?
"Liv..." He reached across the table and shook her hand.
Snapping out of it, she looked at him and faux-smiled. "Yes?"
"What's wrong?" He asked. "You haven't touched your food and you seemed a mile away."
You cheated is what's wrong! You jeopardized our whole entire relationship for pussy and there's no coming back from it!
She wanted to scream. In her mind right now, they're not sitting in this restaurant being all proper and eating dinner. In her mind, she's not listening to him talk about Obama's polls- like she gives a shit. In her mind, this place is a disaster of broken windows and destroyed tables and she's screaming at him and people are watching as she calls out his cheating ass.
Being classy didn't mean that she had to sit here with a poker face and pretend that everything was perfect between them because it wasn't. Everything was a lie and she couldn't look at him without wanting to jump at him across the table and stab him with the steak knife that was in his hand.
"What happened Tuesday night?" She asked.
She couldn't keep it in anymore.
And if she had any doubt before, the expression on his face when she mentioned Tuesday night told her everything she needed to know.
"What?"
He was being defensive already.
"Tuesday night, Edison." She repeated. "The night you came back from Long Island."
He raised his eyebrows, his cheating ass still feigning ignorance. "I told you. I spend a few hours with my mother then I was on the road home."
Shit. Forget being classy. If there's two things in the world that she absolutely despises, it's liars and cheaters. And right now, he was both.
"Don't lie to my face!" She slammed her hands on the table and he flinched.
"Liv, you're making a scene for no reason. Calm down. Let's get the tab and get out of here so we can talk about whatever this is in private."
Shaking her head, she chuckled dryly and bitterly. He was treating her as though she was in the wrong. Overreacting for no reason when she knows exactly what he'd done. "I already feel like a fool for trusting you, so do NOT sit here and make a bigger fool out of me by lying to my face Edison!" Her voice getting louder. "Unless you're into the habit of fucking your mother nowadays, explain the goddamn pink lipstick stain and the lavender perfume because I know whose it's not. It's not mine and don't you dare sit here and insult me again because If you do, I swear to you, I will stab you with that knife in front of me."
His jaw tightened, the brown of his eyes now a dark shade of black filled with embarrassment.
"So you don't know how it got there?" Olivia prompted with false humor dripping from her tone. "Okay, well then explain to me why you felt the need to bury a perfectly good dress shirt so deep inside the trashcan. Oh, wait, I got a better one for you. What about all the text messages from Lisa?"
He opened his mouth with an excuse. "Liv, I can explain. It was just one night-"
Just one night.
Yet the text messages she found on his Blackberry just the other day says otherwise.
She'd stomach enough of this already. She wasn't gonna stick around for this shit show. She deserved better.
"I'm done." She said, pushing her chair back and scrambling out of her seat.
He stood up too, grabbing at her. "Liv, listen to me,"
"YOU CHEATED, EDISON!" She burst. "There's no coming back from that. There's no justifying it. You took all that we've built over the past two years and threw it in a flame. It's all ashes now. There's nothing left to be salvage. Nothing to be saved and rebuild. I'm done. We're done!"
Now, they had the attention of all the patrons at the restaurant. All eyes were fixed on them and whispers were going around. For the first time since she found out, Olivia ran out of fucks to give. She didn't care if she was making a scene. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Whatever.
She grabbed their unfinished bottle of wine and raised it to her lips for a long, healthy swig. Fuck being a lady, fuck being classy. He cheated and how she dealt with what he broke was her business alone. So if she wanted to chug on a bottle of wine in some fancy ass restaurant with an audience, that's exactly what she was going to do. She could care less if people judged. She ran out of fucks to give.
"You know what the worst part is?" She looked into his eyes and shook her head. "You climbed in bed next to me that night, told me you loved me and still tried to fuck me knowing what you had done. You're a pig."
"Olivia, please stop this."
"Fuck you." She waved her hand about hoping to get a server's attention. When one came towards her with a tray carrying an expensive bottle of fine champagne, she took it off the tray and smiled, not caring the least bit about whose it was.
"You can go ahead and add that to his tab."
On her way out, she saw a white couple's judgy eyes solely fixated on her and they were shaking their heads at her. "Oh, what are you looking at?" She asked, looking squarely at the older woman. "Bill here has probably been fucking his secretary for twenty-three of your twenty-five years marriage. You don't see me shaking my head at you though."
The husband shut his mouth and the poor older woman went into shock arrest. Guess she nailed that right on the head. Call her petty. Whatever.
She passed another waiter with a bottle opener and took it. It will come handy later.
"Ma'am, you cannot leave this restaurant with that bottle opener. It's a law."
"Sue me then."
She kicked the restaurant's door open and stepped outside into the New York city afternoon. The wind blew her curls back and she breathed in the salty summer air as she flagged down a yellow cab.
As she was climbing in the back of the cab, she saw the manager of the restaurant hot on her heels, yelling something inaudible after her. But she could care less.
...
Across town in Brooklyn, Fitzgerald Grant had just closed down the gym and was on his way to Mike's pub for a well deserved drink. He's had a long week and he figured a drink or two would loosen him up and chase away the stress of the week.
Parking his car in front of the local bar, he walked into the bar and saluted the regular patrons before making his way to the bar.
"Your usual, buddy?" Mike asked upon seeing him.
Fitz nodded his head as he shared his special handshake with Mike. He's been coming to this bar ever since he moved. It's been his little hang out place so it was pretty safe to say that he and Mike had a pretty amicable relationship. Enough for him to know his regular drink order by now.
"You got it, boss. One whiskey on the rocks coming right up." Mike said.
It wasn't until he pulled up an empty stool around the bar did he finally start to feel himself unwind. As Fitz waited for his drink, he let his gaze slide over the very successful local bar. Nothing was out of the ordinary tonight. Old 80's and 90's songs piped in through the overhead speakers and he listened while tapping his feet on the floor. He watched as a few hustlers indulged themselves in illegal gambling, playing an intense game of pool. Other patrons sat at their tables, swapping tales over the famous house special of spicy buffalo chicken wings and beverages. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves and having a good time.
Nothing was out of the ordinary, except for her.
Her with the natural bronze skin that looked soft as caramel. Her with the long, beautiful curly black hair bouncing off her back. Her who looked unapologetically feminine, sophisticated and sexy wearing a black bustier, tribal fitting pencil skirt and sheepskin suede ankle length high heel boots. Her who looked absolutely breathtaking.
She wasn't ordinary.
His eyes studied her up and down and back up again. She was a vision; sex on a stick; dope (whatever words people use nowadays to describe an attractive woman), but however, it's not what attracted him to her.
It's the fact that out of everyone else here at that bar tonight, she looked the loneliest. The saddest. She was sitting alone almost at the very end of the bar nursing a glass of martini, running her fingers up and down the stem of the martini glass in long, slow strokes completely lost in her world and oblivious to everything and everyone around her.
"I know man. She's fine!" Mike whispered to him only as he slide his requested drink towards him.
Something inside Fitz turned on like a switch and he couldn't help but feel protective of her already. He didn't know where that feeling came from but he didn't want to chase it away either so he shrugged it off as nothing. She was a beautiful woman. Surely he could appreciate that as a red-blooded man. But why did he feel the need to be protective towards a stranger he barely knew?
"Who is she?" Fitz asked.
"Don't know, man." Mike replied, risking a look. "She walked in here three hours ago with a pissed off look on her face and claimed that seat."
"How much has she had to drink?"
Mike shrugged. "I don't know. A few. Enough for her to be real buzzed."
"Hmm..." Fitz mumbled. "You think somebody stood her up?"
Mike shook his head. "No man." He affirmed. "With a body and a face like hers, I can't imagine any man in their right mind that would stand her up."
Fitz couldn't either. Finally taking his drink in his hand, he threw it back in one long gulp before asking for another refill.
...
Growing up as an only child, Olivia has pretty much mastered the art of being the center of attention which means, she knew when the whisper was about her and when someone couldn't stop staring at her. And if she was gonna guess, that guy at the other end of the bar that walked in not too long ago has been staring at her for about five minutes now. Give or take.
Normally, she would be flattered if she wasn't under such a dark cloud tonight.
She could feel his eyes piercing a hole in her body and she wondered if she turned around and took a glance at him what she would see in his eyes. Would it be arousal, desire and want? Or would it be pity and sympathy and faux-kindness. What was her body language saying tonight?
It can't hurt to look. She'd be subtle about it. See what the fuss was about.
Using the glass of martini as bait, she brought the glass of liquid that she'd been nursing for the past twenty minutes to her lips and threw back the clear liquid. The aftermath burned the back of her throat and a quick rush of adrenaline shot down her blood stream.
"Can I get another drink?" She turned her head in search for the bartender.
Instead, his were the first ones that she met. Mesmerizing blue eyes, clearer and brighter than the sky itself. She found herself lost in them across the room and captivated by his handsome face. Lips parted, she watched him. Every flicker, every blink, every twitch of his jaw, she studied him like an intriguing, fascinating puzzle and he watched her right back, almost as if he was studying her also with his penetrating, alluring gaze and for an instant, she almost didn't feel that deep, gutted, unendurable pain that Edison caused her.
He gave her a small smile and she gave him a nod in acknowledgement.
His said: Hi friend...
In return, she bid: Hello... friend?
It didn't take him long after that to walk towards her. She'd had just gotten her refill from the bartender when he walked over to her. He didn't say anything for a few seconds. He just watched her.
"Is this seat taken?" He finally asked.
The first thing that came to mind was; "holy shit! Hotness alert!" His voice was a rich, deep baritone and it sent chills down her spine.
Shrugging her shoulders, she glanced at him and replied; "I guess it is now."
Smirking, he pushed the stool back and climbed on it. "My name's Fitz."
Fitz- she thought. It was nice to finally put a name to his gorgeous face.
"What's that short for?" She asked.
Fitz raised his eyebrows in surprise. That wasn't what he expected her to ask. Normally when you tell someone your name, they usually answer back by giving their name in introduction instead of asking a question. He guessed she was different.
"It's short for Fitzgerald." He replied.
"Anybody ever tell you that it's rude to stare, Fitzgerald?" She asked.
He smiled shyly. "A few times." He replied. "Guess I couldn't help it this time."
"Smooth." Olivia nodded, quite amused. "Does that line always work?" She asked.
"Who says it was a line?"
Taken off guard, Olivia couldn't help the laughter that escaped her lips. It felt good to forget for a little bit and just be. "So you're not trying to hit on me right now?" She questioned with raised eyebrows.
He shook his head. "You'd definitely know if I was hitting on you, sweetheart."
"Oh yeah?"
He nodded. "Oh yeah."
"How come?" Olivia asked.
"Because I would've known your name by now. And there would be less talking between us. Our lips will be put to better use."
"Wow!" Olivia chuckled. "Now does that always work?"
He shrugged with a knowing smirk. "I don't know. How's it doing on you tonight?"
"My name's Olivia."
"Olivia..." He tested the name on his mouth, tasting it and drawing out every syllable in his deep baritone voice. It sounded right. It fit her. "What is a woman like yourself doing alone at this bar, Olivia?"
"A woman like myself?" Olivia asked, confusion creasing her brows.
"Yes." Fitz nodded. "I've never seen you around here before, so I'm curious."
"Hm, I think the better question is, what are you drinking about tonight, Fitzgerald?"
"I've had a long week so I came here to have a few drink and let the stress of the week roll off me." Fitz replied.
The last thing he expected was her rolling her eyes and calling him out.
"Bullshit." She said. "God, I wish men would just stop lying to me today."
Well that sounds personal. Fitz thought.
With an amused smirk, he urged. "Okay then, why don't you tell me what I'm here for, Olivia?"
"I'm not saying you're not here for the reason you said." Olivia said. "It's just not the full story."
"Oh no?"
"No." She shook her head. "Men never come to a bar and drink for the sole purpose of "unwinding". Men come to bars because they're angry or want to get laid. And do you know what's a real good stress reliever?"
Fitz shook his head. This was interesting and he liked where this was going so he figured he'd let her school him a little bit. "Enlighten me."
"Sex." She told him. "Good sex. Nasty-sweaty-messy sex. Yes, you're here to have a few drink and relax but you're also trying to kill two birds with one stone. So to speak."
Fitz was impressed. Would he turn down taking home an attractive woman if he was interested in her? Absolutely not. But that was just it though. Tonight, he was interested in her. He'd very much like to take her home and see where the moment takes them but he had a feeling that she wasn't looking for that tonight. So instead, he decided to feel her out more and rolled a different dice.
"Would you say the same about women?"
"Say what about women?" Olivia asked.
"That they come to bars in hopes of getting laid too." Fitz answered.
Olivia shrugged nonchalantly. "Why not?" She replied. "But we live in a society where everything is backwards and equality's bullshit so we pretend we don't because God forbid we actually are comfortable with our sexuality, enough to want to pick up a hot young thing at a bar for a night, we're not called badass or fierce or brave. We get slut-shamed and called every dirty name in the history of the universe! But if a man does it, they get praised."
Fitz couldn't help but smile. She was a feisty little one and he told her so.
"Color me feminist or passionate. Whatever floats your boat."
"I'm gonna buy you another drink and in return, you're gonna tell me why you're so pissed off. Deal?"
"Sure." She replied.
Fitz called for Mike and a refill of both their drinks were brought to them.
"Why are you drinking tonight, Olivia?" He asked.
"Because men are pigs." She replied.
Raising a concerned eyebrow, he prompted, "Care to elaborate?"
"You ever been cheated on and lied to, Fitzgerald?" She asked.
At the sudden change in his eyes, Olivia shook her head. The look in his eyes then was exactly what she didn't need at the moment. It was a mixture of something she couldn't quite put a name to and it made her shiver. She didn't want his pity or his sympathy.
"You know what, forget I said anything." She said.
"Okay." Fitz nodded. "We don't have to talk about it."
"Okay."
Mike kept the refills coming and Olivia was more than happy to drink them in order to numb the pain and forget.
...
Two hours later...
"How'd you get here?" He asked.
Olivia chuckled bitterly. The irony of this question wasn't lost on her. How did she get here indeed. How did she go from being in a relationship she thought was solid and stable and good; to finding out that her boyfriend was nothing but a two-faced lying-cheating-ass bastard, piece of shit. How indeed.
Olivia snapped out of it. She knew it's not exactly what he was asking but her mind went there anyways. So she shrugged. She was drunk and sweating and this bar suddenly felt like an oven operating at 450 degrees. She didn't freaking know! She doesn't really remember getting to this bar. All she remembers is breaking up with Edison's cheating ass and storming out of the restaurant pissed as hell with a bottle of the most expensive champagne they had and she vaguely remembers the manager of the restaurant yelling after her to pay for it. And then in response, her telling him he can go fuck himself as she hopped into a cab.
Then the aforementioned cab took her here to this local bar, where she proceeded to drink her sorrows away alone until he joined her. And now, she was talking to him.
"I don't know." She replied truthfully.
Fitz sighed. She doesn't know how she got here. Could this night get any more bizarre? Seriously.
"Alright, I'll drive you home."
Sadness threatened to swallow her whole. Olivia didn't know where home was for the night. She sure as hell wasn't gonna go back to the shared apartment she had with Edison. It was too late to make a drive to her parent's cottage in the Hamptons. And sure, she could crash at her best friend Abby's but that would require talking about what actually happened between her and Edison and that was the last thing she wanted because she didn't have the energy to feel emotionally drained yet. At this point crashing at a crappy motel was her best option.
So she swallowed the lump in her throat, daring the sadness to go the fuck away because she didn't have time to be bawling her eyes in front of a stranger. A pretty hot one at that. She's always been told from a very young age that she could be a great actress and often times, she used that natural skill to her advantage. Tonight was one of those time. Olivia raised her eyebrows at him before bursting into a fit of drunken laughter.
"What's so funny?" Fitz asked.
Assuming she was as drunk as she was acting, everything was funny to her.
"You thinking that I'll go anywhere with you." Olivia replied.
Frustrated, Fitz threw his hands up in the air, shaking his head in disbelief. "Listen, I'm trying to do something nice for you, so can you please not give me a hard time?"
"I'll take a cab." Olivia retorted.
"No way." Fitz shook his head. "Nope. You're not taking a cab."
He didn't know what it was about her, but for some reason, he wanted something from this woman. He wasn't sure what that something was though. But for tonight, he felt the need to protect her and be there for her however he can; knowing already how much she was probably hurting deep inside. He can relate to that kind of vulnerability. Just wanting to numb it all after being hurt. He wanted to be there for her. Perhaps that was what he wanted from her. To just be a friend.
But drunk as she was right now, she was infuriating and sarcastic and she made him tick in a way no one has been able to in his entire life. That made it actually kind of hard to be a friend to her.
"One, you don't tell me what to do. No one tells me what to do. Two, after tonight, my trust in men in general has diminished to pretty much nothing- so, you're barking up at the wrong tree. And three- I don't know what three is but I'm taking a taxi."
She was determined and he was persistent. See how that was not going to work?
"Hm," Fitz nodded, his ears turning cherry red. How could he want to shake her and kiss her at the same time?
So goddamn infuriating!
"Hm, what?"
"Hm- I don't care what you want." Fitz answered. "You've had a bit much to drink and I don't trust some random cab driver to take you home."
Olivia groaned. Even drunk, it had to have been the sexiest thing Fitz had heard in awhile.
"You know, for a cute guy, you mister, are really working my goddamn nerves!"
Fitz scoffed. Cute... What fuckery. She called him cute! Baby ducks are cute!
He'd like to think of himself as: handsome, irresistible, hot. That's just to name a few. But cute? Nah!
"You're not exactly my favorite either right now."
"I can take care of myself." Olivia told him.
"Oh I'm sure you can." Fitz replied. "But you're not getting into some stranger's cab and that's final."
Olivia threw back the rest of her drink because she was seriously a second away from strangling him to death. Who does he think he is telling her what she can or cannot do?
"Why's that?"
"You're drunk and things happen to drunk people who get into strangers' cars."
After his statement, Olivia couldn't help but chuckle.
"What's funny now?"
"Do you happen to watch law & order or any of those other cop shows by any chance?" She asked.
Fitz shrugged. "Maybe. So what?"
"So what?" Olivia smirked. "That is seriously the cutest thing ever!" She teased.
There she goes calling him cute again. What the hell about him says cute?
"I can promise you that some psycho serial killer is not going to gas me out in the back of his filthy cab and try to castrate my every organ for 'scientific' purposes." She was laughing before she added, "Though your concern is very touching, I do not need an escort or a bodyguard for that matter."
Honestly, was that supposed to make him feel better? She might think it's hilarious but to him, it wasn't. Those freaks really do exist somewhere out there in the world and he wasn't in the mood to go home tonight and read about her in the newspapers the next morning. That would be too much of a heavy weight on his conscience.
So he tried one more time. Begging this time. Puppy dog-eye, pouty lips and all. "Come home with me, Olivia. You can crash at my place and leave when you sober up in the morning. Please."
She said nothing.
"Please."
One minute passed... His blue eyes still begging her to reconsider.
"God, you're persistent!" Olivia broke. "Let me see your wallet."
Fitz was so confused. Why did she need his wallet? "What?"
"Let me see your wallet." Olivia repeated again, extending her hand impatiently.
"Why?"
She sighed. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't know you from here to there. You're as much of a stranger as a cab driver would be. So if I'm gonna be going anywhere with you at all- and your home of all places, and spending the night also, I wanna see your fucking wallet." She explained. Snapping her fingers, she smiled. "Fork it over, cutie pie."
Cutie pie?
Just... no.
Nope.
"You are something else." Fitz shook his head as he reached for his wallet in his back pocket.
He handed it to her and watched as she searched through it. A few credit cards, his driver's license and three -hundred something dollars in cash. And a Trojan condom.
Olivia flashed it at him with raised eyebrows. "Really?"
He shrugged. Blushing. "Better safe than sorry."
Olivia rolled her eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, cutie pie."
Snatching the wallet from her, he put it back in his pocket. "Satisfied?" He asked.
Olivia nodded. "Sure, Mister Grant."
Fitz swallowed hard. He couldn't help but think that his name sounded sexy on her tongue even though she was an insufferable pain in the ass at the moment. He stared at her full lips and all he could literally think about was fucking that smart mouth of hers with his tongue, his cock- anything to see if she would still be as sarcastic and sassy afterwards.
He blinked, snapping at himself. She just got out of a relationship, you asshole!
"Can we go now, please?"
Gripping the edge of the bar, she stood up on wobbly feet and she pushed her curls from her face. Then, with a smile on her lips, she looked up into his beautiful shade of blue eyes and nodded. "Yeah. But I'm not fucking you."
With his expression of nonchalance in place, Fitz fished out his wallet for his credit card and proceeded to pay for their tab as if he was not a tad bit fazed by her comment. Smirking, he retorted back; "Well I guess It's a good thing you're not my type hunh, fireball?"
Olivia rolled her eyes as she followed closely behind him out the door.
Right before they got into his car, Fitz could've sworn he heard her mumble something along the lines of: "I'm everyone's type, boo."
And he knew then from that moment on, that she was going to be trouble for him but for some reason, that didn't freak him out one bit.
...
"Do you want something to drink?" He asked as he put the keys in his lock.
Once inside the loft, he flicked on a dim light and the place lit up. Olivia was too drunk and too tired to take in his decor but as far as she could tell, his place was pretty neat for a guy.
"Yeah. Some water would be nice." She replied.
"Alright." Fitz nodded. "Make yourself at home." He suggested while pointing at the black leather stool behind the granite kitchen island.
After washing his hands under the western kitchen sink, he dried it with a clean towel before he reached into his fridge and grabbed two bottles of water. Pushing one of the bottles towards her across the counter, he said, "Drink up."
Then he was back in the fridge again, pulling out bread and other ingredients.
Olivia frowned, her lips forming a curious line around her bottle of water. "What are you doing?" She asked.
"Making a sandwich." Fitz replied. "Do you mind?"
Olivia shrugged. "It's your house." She mumbled. "You want some help?"
She wouldn't be much help really, considering she didn't know A-Z about cooking but she hated the feeling of being useless and plus she figured it was the polite thing to do.
"No." Fitz declined.
Rolling her eyes, she huffed childishly. "Fine. I take it back. I didn't even wanna help anyways."
So she sat behind the stool, completely useless and watched him as he began preparing the stove for his meal. While he waited for the pan to heat up on the stove, she watched some more as he started chopping off tomatoes, mincing up garlic and dicing up sweet peppers and sweet onions with expertise knife skills.
Olivia couldn't help but notice how the muscles of his arms flexed with every movement.
He was attractive. Stunning even. Annoyingly so, but attractive and stunning nonetheless and it pissed Olivia off that she noticed. She couldn't believe how watching him perform such a domestic task was turning her on beyond her control.
She shouldn't be undressing him with her eyes like this after having just broken up with her cheating ass boyfriend of two years. But she was. She was eyeballing the fuck out of him like he was the last man on earth and she wasn't sure what that said about her as a person.
"See something you like, pretty?" His deep baritone snapped her out of her drooling haze.
She had been too oblivious to the fact that he might feel her eyes literally undressing him. And now that's he's caught her in the act, he was being cocky about it.
"Don't flatter yourself, cowboy." She scoffed. "You ain't my type either."
He was smirking. And he looked too goddamn smug for her liking. But why was she tingling in places she shouldn't be?
Maybe it was those silky, thick curls that she's been fantasizing about running her fingers through all night. Or maybe, it was the color of his piercing blue eyes that captivated her the moment they met hers, and maybe it was and how those same blues twinkled with a beaming glow when he smiles. It could quite possibly be his cute little dimple that were barely noticeable unless he really smiled. Perhaps it was those yummy muscular arms.
Oh hell! Who was she kidding? It was everything! And she was drunkenly heartbroken!
"What's so funny?" She asked annoyingly and rightfully so.
Fitz lifted his head from the wooden cutting board and glanced at her sideways with his smile forever in place.
"You're pretty feisty for a little lady." He replied.
Twice tonight... twice he's called her feisty.
Feisty, fireball, little lady- Olivia thought. Bitch I'm grown!
"Well you're pretty smug and annoying." She retorted.
He just shook his head; that same stupid, sexy, smug grin on his face.
She wanted to both slap it and kiss it off his face.
"What?!" Olivia snapped.
He chuckled. "Nothing." He said, shaking his head. "First I'm a cowboy, now I'm smug. See where I'm going with this?"
Olivia shook her head. "Nope."
"Hm," He sighed. "It's this really fascinating ongoing pattern."
Olivia took another sip of her water. She needed to do something to keep herself distracted. "Yeah?" She questioned.
Fitz nodded. "Yep."
"And what pattern might that be?" She asked.
Pointing his sharp chef's knife at her, he grinned again. "You fireball, are a bad boy lover." He replied.
Olivia nearly choked on her water. It's official. She hates him.
Composing herself, she twirled an unruly curl around her index finger and smiled. "So you have me all figured out already, don't you?"
Fitz shook his head, "On the contrary, ma'am," He said, "I never claim to have women figured out. Especially New Yorkers."
Smart- Olivia thought. She could take lessons from him because she likes to think of herself as a pretty good judge of character, but every time she thinks she has someone figured out, they turn out to be a bigger disappointment than the last.
Fucking Edison-cheating-ass-Davis!
"You're not from New York." Olivia stated.
She could tell because he didn't look like your typical New Yorker. He had this air about him- as if he was still trying to fit in with a new crowd.
"Nope ma'am. I'm from California." He said.
Aah, California! Of course.
A few things came to mind when she thought of California and cockiness was front and center. It's no wonder.
"Why New York?" She asked curiously.
Fitz shrugged. "I needed a change of scenery."
Something about the way he said it told Olivia that it was as much- or rather as little from him as she was gonna get. Having gotten the memo, she didn't press or push him for more.
Caught up in their conversation, Olivia hadn't realized that he was through with his cooking. It wasn't until the smell of simmering tomato soup and bacon grilled cheese penetrated the air and the pungent odor hovered in the kitchen that her stomach started to grumble. It smelled like home.
With a ladle, he scooped two spoonful of the soup into a bowl and pushed it towards her across the table.
With the sandwiches in another large bowl, he joined her around the counter and sat next to her.
"Mangia."
Whatever that even meant. Olivia tear into a piece of a perfectly grilled sandwich and dipped it into the soup. At the first bite, her eyes rolled, and a delightful moan escaped her lips as a burst of flavor awakened her taste-buds.
The tiny hint of cilantro and dill and garlic blended perfectly with the rich-tangy, creamy soup.
She was in heaven.
"Where'd you learn how to cook like that?" She asked as she dipped another piece of bread into the soup.
Meanwhile, Fitz took a huge bite of his sandwich and swallowed quickly. "That's a tale for another day." He replied. "But when you grew up like I did, certain things just become second nature."
Yet again, he wasn't gonna elaborate.
And if anything, that made Olivia more curious. She wanted to know what he meant by "growing up like he did." Maybe he had a rough go of it growing up. She didn't know him well enough to say but she wanted to know.
What can she say? She has a soft spot for the underdogs. Even the ones that are attractive beyond legal levels and have dreamy blue eyes and smug grins.
...
"I can take the couch." Olivia said as she finished helping him dry the last of the used dishes.
Fitz shook his head. "It's not that comfortable." He told her. "You can take my bed."
Shrugging, Olivia let it go. She wasn't gonna argue with him. If he wanted to give her his bed, then she wasn't gonna refuse. At this point, she just wanted to close her eyes and forget that this whole day happened.
With the lights turned off and the doors securely locked, she followed him down what she presumed was his bedroom.
His bedroom decor wasn't much. Besides the normal dressers and tables, he had a huge closet and an adjoined bathroom in the room. His huge King sized mattress was big enough to hospitalize three people. It looked warm and comfortable and her body was basically screaming to make contact with it.
"Um, do you need a change of clothes or something?" Fitz asked.
"Yes." Olivia replied.
He marched towards the dresser and opened the third drawer, pulling out a grey shirt and a pair of boxers.
"You can change in the bathroom." He offered as he handed her the clothes.
"Thanks." Olivia smiled at him before she disappeared in the bathroom.
Closing the door behind her, she locked the door and stood in front of the mirror at the sink. She felt as though the mirror was mocking her. She looked like a hot mess with a broken heart in a stranger's bathroom. How fucking cliche was that?
She fought tooth and nail with her emotions as she continued to stare at her reflection in the mirror. She wouldn't let the tears fall. She couldn't. Not yet at least. She couldn't be the weak one. She didn't do this. And quite frankly, he wasn't worth it.
With that in mind, she sighed and wrapped her curls in a haphazard bun on top of her head. Deciding to get rid of the alcohol stench on her, she opened the faucet and allowed the water to heat up before she started stripping off all her clothes.
...
The boiled water felt delicious against her skin and she closed her eyes as the steam enveloped her. She still didn't cry. She couldn't because if she did, she would never stop and she couldn't bear the thought of having Fitz comfort her. He'd already done enough. He didn't sign up for her sad-pitiful parade. He didn't need that.
But that still didn't stop her from replaying her whole entire relationship with Edison over in her head. What more could she have done right to prevent this from happening? How was she not enough? Did she not stroke his fragile ego enough? More importantly, how could he claim to have loved her and yet didn't even think twice before sticking his dick in some other woman when the opportunity presented itself?
She knew it wasn't her fault but still she couldn't shake the thought that maybe if she hadn't been so closed off with walls built up, he wouldn't have felt the need to seek whatever was missing in their relationship with someone else.
Now she found herself wondering what the other woman looked like. What the other woman had that she was lacking. Did she know know about her and that her and Edison had been together for two fucking years? Was she married? Did she have kids? Did she have bigger boobs, softer hair, prettier eyes? Was she white, latina, or was she black like her? Did his mistress fuck him better than she did? Did he tell her he loved her too?
What had he promised her for her to willingly accept The Other Woman title?
A thousand other series of questions swamped her head full and she slammed her hand on the tiled walls of the shower as tears filled her eyes. She fucking hated him. She hated him for doing this to her. For making her doubt herself as a woman. She didn't deserve this and she would never forgive him for making her feel like shit.
"You have too many walls, Liv." He'd always say.
Walls or not, he should've at least had the fucking decency to come to her like a respectable human being and hash it out with her. He should've kept it real with her. And yeah, maybe she would've still been heartbroken but she would've let him go and her dignity would've stayed intact.
Olivia blamed herself also. She should've known that's who he always has been. And she would've caught it way earlier if she didn't listen to all the white noise of people telling her how much of a perfect match they were for each other.
She never bought into the illusion of soul mates, happily ever afters and forevers. She always thought that those were sappy stories told to kids at a young age and truthfully, it wasn't fair. Life doesn't really work that way. Relationship is work and she believed in loyalty, respect and being your own person and not letting that relationship change you as a person. Or at least she did.
She loved Edison. She mightn't said it all the time like he wanted her to, but she did love him in her own way. She showed up when he needed her, she respected his opinions even when she didn't always agree and she continually rooted for him to thrive. She wasn't overbearing or high maintenance and she never asked too much of him.
Maybe that was it. Maybe she didn't ask enough of him. She never would have because that's not the kind of woman that she is. She could never rely on him like he would have wanted her to. She values her independence way too much.
But she loved him.
And what did that get her? Betrayal.
So maybe those walls were hard to knock down for a reason.
...
Stepping out of the shower fifteen minutes later, she noticed the basket of clean towels and took one to dry off.
She got dressed in record time before slipping out of the bathroom.
When she opened the door, he was just standing there, startling her nearly to death.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Fitz apologized.
"It's okay." Olivia replied.
"Okay." He nodded.
Fitz marched towards the bed and turned on the nightstand before turning off the overhead light in the ceiling.
Pulling the covers back, he got into bed and under the covers comfortably.
"What are you doing?" Olivia asked.
"I'm starting to think you can't tell when something is obvious." Fitz said.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Olivia cried. "We never said anything about sharing a bed. I thought you were taking the couch."
"I said the couch wasn't comfortable." Fitz reminded her. "So if I wasn't gonna let you sleep on it, what makes you think I'm gonna sleep on it?"
He had a good point.
"Don't be a smart ass." Olivia growled.
"Look, the bed is big enough for the both of us." Fitz said. "You stay on your side, I'll stay on my side. Does that sound fair to you?"
It did and Olivia was willing to compromise.
"With a pillow in between."
"What are you? Twelve?"
"You didn't have to take me home. I told you I could take care of myself but you insisted."
Fitz rolled his eyes. "Oh, you're welcome by the way."
"Whatever!" She stomped back in the bathroom like a spoiled child and returned with her retrieved bra.
There was no way that she was going to get into that bed with him bra-less.
"Can you turn around?" She asked, reemerging from the bathroom.
"Why?" Fitz asked.
"Cause I'm about to put a bra on." She replied. "Unless you wanna watch." She added sarcastically.
Fitz rolled his eyes again. She's so freaking frustrating!
"You have nothing I haven't seen before." He said.
He heard her scoff before she turned around, facing away from him and at the bathroom door.
And of course she always has some smart remarks. She always had to have the last word.
"I have everything you haven't seen before." She mumbled just before she pulled his shirt over her head.
Just in time for Fitz to see the tattoos that covered her back.
Indeed she did.
...
When they lie in bed a few minutes later, a pillow in between them to keep the distance appropriate, Olivia looked up at the ceiling with wonder.
"Who was she?" She asked.
In the bathroom, there was still a bottle of pomegranate shampoo on his shelf and she was pretty sure it didn't belong to him. So unless he had an imaginary friend, or he happened to wash his hair with pomegranate shampoo, (which she doubted he did because his hair smelled like chestnut and french vanilla bean) there was no clear explanation for that.
"Who was who?" Fitz asked; oblivious to her question.
"The pomegranate girl." She said.
Fitz chuckled. Hah! Pomegranate girl. Classic!
"She wasn't the one."
"Hm." Olivia mumbled. "Did you hurt her?"
Fitz took a pause. He didn't really know how to answer that without feeling... He just didn't know.
"We both hurt each other." He replied. "Some wounds deeper than others."
Then they were both silent again.
Fitz could tell that Olivia was overthinking everything. Blaming herself, wanting answers to try and justify it. He knew because he knows what it feels like to be betrayed in the worst way possible by someone you used to love. He knew because he's been there and the experience isn't the least bit pleasant.
"Hey, fireball?"
Olivia smiled in spite of herself. Why was that nickname suddenly growing on her?
"Hunh?"
"Don't think about it too much?" He suggested. "It wasn't your fault. We make our choices in life all on our own and it's not your place to take the burden of others on your shoulders. He cheated. He broke your trust. He hurt you. That's on him. That's his cross bear." He declared. "Don't beat yourself up over it because there was nothing you could do about it. It's not something you did or didn't do. The truth is, he just didn't love you enough. And I'm so sorry about that but that's not your fault either. It's gonna hurt- maybe not now, or tomorrow but it will eventually. Betrayal always does. You're gonna be pissed off for a while so if you need someone to just kick it with between now and then and know a hundred-percent that they won't judge you, I'm here."
At that, Olivia reached between them under the covers and grabbed his hand. He obliged and quickly entwined their fingers together.
Fitz gave her hand a tight squeeze and turned his head to look at her. "You'll be alright, fireball."
He saw her smile in the dimly lit room. This time, it wasn't a sarcastic smile to throw him off. Though with sad eyes, her brown orbs still gleamed and her teeth still showed. It was a real smile and she looked like the most beautiful woman in the world to him at that moment. The best part about it, is that she was so natural at that moment. Makeup free and pure.
"You're good people, Ace."
Both smiling, they said nothing but it wasn't lost on either of them that they could be nice to each other if they wanted to.
"How do you know when someone is the one?" Olivia asked.
Fitz shrugged. "You just do."
"But how?"
"Because they'll see the good, the bad, the ugly and still want to stick around. Because you'll fight to the death for them. Because nothing will make sense when they're gone. Because everything will hurt less and you'll find yourself laughing a lot at the stupidest things that are complete and utter bullshit but it won't matter because they'll be the source of your happiness and joy. Because they'll be your best friend."
Olivia cried silently in her heart for the little girl inside her that wants to believe in that kind of love. And she also cried for the woman that had just gotten her heart broken into a million pieces.
"Do you really think that kind of love exist?" She asked.
"I don't know, fireball." Fitz replied truthfully. "But I like to believe that it does."
Silence engulfed them and Fitz simply let those last words settle between them because there were peaceful. Finger intertwined, Olivia's eyes grew heavier by the second as she watched the overhead fan spin in unabating circles. Minutes later, she was lulled to sleep faster than she ever would have anticipated. She blamed it on the softness of his sheets and pillows.
...
Sometime around dawn, Fitz stirred awake by the sound of blue birds singing in the early morning sky and the sight of the silver moon penetrating through his curtains. Sighing, he swallowed the dryness in his throat with a hankering for a glass of water.
But he couldn't get up if you paid him in gold and diamonds because wrapped around him was a certain little curly haired goddess that was stopping him from going to get that glass of water he was so in desperate need of. With her legs thrown over his thighs casually, her head rested on his shoulder and her hand lay flat against his heart, mimicking the rise and fall of his chest.
Looking down at her, Fitz couldn't help the smile that threatened to split his face in half. She looked absolutely beautiful and so peaceful. Then he remembered the pillow that was supposed to keep them from being entwined as they were right now and he had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep the laughter that wanted to boom out of him.
An unruly curl fell on her face and he gently reached to push it out of her face, subconsciously placing a kiss on her forehead in the process. She stirred a little bit in his arm and his chest went into overdrive. He didn't want her to wake up and pull away from him. So he wrapped his arm around her and began drawing invisible circles on her arm with his fingers; hoping to lull her back to the land of dreams. Her lips parted as she scratched her nose with her fingers curled in a claw. Fitz swore it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. Then she started making soft little purrs of approval at the contact of his fingers on her flesh. And damn if that didn't stir his dick awake too. He tried his damndest to ignore those little noises she was making as he continued his soft caresses, reveling in the feeling of her body pressed against his and her warm breathing against his neck. Water be damned.
/
Olivia knew the moment he woke up but instead of feeling embarrassed of the position they came to be inconveniently some time in the middle of the night, she scoot closer in his arm and settled relaxingly in his warm embrace. She felt so comfortable and safe cocooned in his arms that the thought of moving was worse than death. And when he pushed her hair out of her face, a small smile graced her lips. Now, he was drawing little circles on her arm and she couldn't think of anything more heartwarming and comforting.
Days later...
Living off her hotel mini bar was starting to not work for Olivia. She's managed to shut the world out for a full seventy-two hours but she knew that sooner or later, she was going to have to face the sound of the music. And she really didn't want to.
Getting up and out of bed, she wrapped a robe around her and made a brief call to the hotel's room service for something edible to eat before she disappeared in the bathroom with her mobile cell phone in hand. She turned on the smartphone and she was bombarded with a cacophony of notification alerts. Her heart clamped up and her stomach roiled when she read his name on the screen. In the past eighteen hours alone, he's called her about twenty seven times and left her sixteen voicemails.
Why was he even bothering to call her? They had absolutely nothing to be civil to each other about. He did what he did and she said her piece about it. What was there left to be said? She thought she made it more than clear that she wanted absolutely nothing to do with him when she stormed out on him at the restaurant?
"Shake my damn head." Olivia murmured as she squeezed toothpaste onto her brush.
She started brushing her teeth, looking at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She looked like last week's trash with her disheveled curls entangled together like the Spider's Web.
"I'm literally garbage." She chuckled to herself.
And just then, the phone started vibrating and chirping incessantly on the sink. Looking down at it, she saw his number popping up on her screen again. Cursing him seven days to hell, she wondered if it was possible to get a restraining order against him for calling her phone too damn much.
That couldn't be healthy.
So she decided to pick up. It was the only way she'll find some peace of mind.
"What?" She answered around her toothbrush.
"Oh Liv, thank God. I was starting to get worried. I've been calling you for the past few days and you haven't been answering."
Even his voice made her want to crawl out her skin and run.
"That's cause you don't pay my damn bills." She replied blatantly and purposely rude. "What do you want?"
"Liv, I'm really sorry about what I did." He said. "I never meant to hurt you like that-"
Oh for God's freaking sakes! What did he think his little half-assed apology was going to do for her? It wouldn't change the fact that he betrayed her and disrespected her in the worse way possible. It wouldn't make the hurt that he caused her to disappear. And it certainly wasn't gonna bring her back.
"I'm coming to drop off the keys and getting my things out of the apartment today. I'd really appreciate it if you could not be there when I'm doing that." She cut him off.
"Olivia-"
"After what you've done... after the way you've disrespected me and drag your feet all over me like the piece of paper stuck to the bottom of your shoe, I don't wanna hear dick from you other than 'Yes Olivia. I can do that'." She really didn't want to have to raise her voice at him and exhaust her energy on him but the anger and hatred she felt for him was still aflame and he wasn't helping much by adding gasoline to the flame. "Let's try again," She huffed. "Edison, I'll be coming to grab my things at the apartment and dropping off the keys, would you be so kind and respectful enough to not be there when I showed up."
He said nothing for about five seconds.
Then she heard him sigh deeply before he asked, "At what time will you be stopping by?"
Olivia thought about it for a minute. She had to get one of those storage rooms and she had to rent one of those U-Haul trucks to transport her things to the storage unit temporarily while she went hunting for an apartment that was at her taste and price range.
"Three o'clock." She replied.
He sighed again. Even that was annoying. Olivia never expected that there could ever be a day when she wished someone would just stop breathing and existing all together.
"So that's really it for us, Liv?" He asked. "We're not gonna try to work it out?"
Fuck's sake. She was literally seconds away from pulling her hair out.
"There's nothing to try to work out." Olivia replied.
Then he was silent for a full minute. And for a second, Olivia thought that he finally took a hint and hung up.
But as always the disappointment that he was, his voice echoed in her ears again. "What are we telling people?" He asked.
Confused, Olivia raised her eyebrows, forgetting that he couldn't see her. "What?"
"We hang out in the same group circle. I have a reputation to uphold so when they ask why we aren't together anymore, what's our story. What are we telling them?"
Had she gone deaf or had he really just asked her that?
"What?" She asked again, making sure she heard him right.
Is somebody listening to this shit too or was this some nightmare she was in and would be soon waking up from? Because this couldn't be reality. His reputation... Oh sweet baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph and everything that's holy! He had the nerves, Lord... the audacity to ask her what they were going to tell his friends about his cheating ass when they asked why she wanted to rip him to shreds and feed him to the wolves. Lord Jesus, fix it because If she ever sees him again... Hmm. Why hadn't she slapped the fuck out of him before storming out of that restaurant when she had the chance?
"Edison?" She said.
"Liv?"
"Do me one last favor..."
"What is it?"
"Dig a deep hole somewhere far in the desert and go fuck yourself!" Then she hung up the phone in his face before he had the chance to apologize to her one more time.
888
When she had stopped by at the apartment to get her things, she worked efficiently, being as steadfast as possible because she didn't want him to come home thinking she had finished grabbing all that she needed only to find her there. Olivia wasn't sure she'd be too pleasant in that scenario.
She had managed to load up everything into the rented vehicle in less than two hours. And it wasn't until she was circling around the mostly empty room, taking it all in- closing that chapter of her life in the book so to speak- that everything just started hitting her all at once. It was really over between them and she was very at peace with that decision. As a woman, she felt it was necessary that she was able to look herself in the mirror in the morning and not see a fool for staying with someone who could stab her in the back the way Edison had. Maybe in time she'll be able to forgive him for his betrayal but she would never let herself forget either.
She lit up a flame at what was once their stove and burned all their pictures together in a large stainless bowl. And in a box that she marked returns sitting in the living room floor was all the jewelries and gifts he'd ever given her with a little note that read: "Give them to Lisa. She's good at taking my leftovers." It was petty of her. She knew that but she didn't feel any remorse over it and she certainly would not be losing any sleep over it.
And it wasn't until she was locking the door behind her and slipping the spare key under the mat for him that she let the tears fall down her cheeks. They weren't tears of sadness but they weren't tears of happiness either. She felt free though.
...
The full effect of the break up hadn't hit Olivia until two full weeks later when she'd finally settled into her new apartment in The Upper East-side. She thought that after cleansing herself of everything Edison and changing her phone number, any and all remnants of him would be gone out of her life. She thought he would just disappear like magic into thin air as if she didn't give him two years of her life. But he didn't. He lived in her memories and those were the hardest to deal with and get rid of.
One morning, she woke up and looked at herself in the mirror and just completely broke down in ugly, horrible sobs. She couldn't believe she was that girl. The type that was so closed off with glaciers build so tightly, nothing could penetrate through. The type that could drive her ex-boyfriend into another woman's panties.
She coped during the day but it was the nights that were lonely. Having not slept alone in a very long time, she would feel the coldness next to her in the middle of the night and wrap herself around the blanket and just cry all over again. And when she could shed no more tears, she would turn on Netflix and have a marathon of F.R.I.E.N.D.S while binging on red wine and popcorn.
She felt like she was losing her mind when she started entertaining the thought of adopting twelve cats. She hated those stupid freaking commercials. You know the ones that come on with the beaten animals in cages? The one where they play the saddest fucking song in the entire world and put little subtitles of what the dog or cat is saying or thinking? The one where the camera zooms in real close on their eyes and you can see... more like feel their sad eyes poking a hole into your soul and suddenly, you find yourself needing a damn box of kleenex tissues? Yep. That's exactly the one.
God, she loathed that commercial!
For some fucking reason, it always came on when she was feeling the crappiest and stuffing her face with food. It's like they planned that shit for her to see it in the exact moment when she was feeling the loneliest and most vulnerable. That way, she's absolutely compelled to make the call and demand to be sent all of them animals so she could nurse them to health. Ain't that some shit though?
Yes. She'd become that girl. And whoever came up with that commercial should be shot!
...
When she grew tired of the loneliness, she decided to visit her parents at their cottage in the Hampton where they'd retired to live their blissful lives a couple of years ago. As soon as her mother opened the door for her, the sadness in eyes was so vivid that the older woman took her in her arms instantly, rocking her back and forth at the door until she let out a loud sob.
They eventually went inside the beautiful stone home and sat on the couch in the living room. She lie on her mother's thighs and the older woman soothed her by running her fingers through her hair like she had done for her all her life.
Their cook, Mrs. Robinson brought in hors' d'ouvres and tea for them a little while later and Olivia ate in silence with her knees folded to her chest.
"How's dad and where is he?" Olivia asked.
"Your father's fine." Her mother replied. "He went with Mr. Robinson to the golf course. Something about needing to get away from me."
Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What? Are you guys okay?"
Her mother dismissed her with a wave. "We're fine. He's just coming up for air from the pot of gold."
"Oh." Olivia said confused. Then she gave it a second for what her mother said to settle and she visibly shuddered; slamming her hand over her eyes to block the images that conjured from that statement out of her head. "Jesus, mom!" She exclaimed. "Where's your chill?"
"I have none." Her mother replied. "Now, stop deflecting. What happened Livia, honey?" Maya asked.
Olivia shrugged. A bittersweet smile forced across her lips and she stopped a tear in it's track from falling. "It didn't work out, I guess." She replied, barely on an audible whisper.
"Oh sweetie." Maya pulled her against her chest again and she cried again until her eyes were puffy and hurting. "I'm so proud of you baby girl."
Olivia was downright confused. What was there to be proud of? She ran every potential good guy out of her life with her walls someway, somehow. How could her mother be proud of that?
"Why?" She asked. "I'm just a stupid girl with a bunch of stupid walls that drives everyone away."
Her mother chuckled into her hair as she soothed it back. "You're your own person, Livia." Her mother said. "Those walls honey, they're up for a reason and you're not stupid. One day, the right person that's for you is gonna come along and their love for you is gonna be the wrecking ball that cracks those walls and crumble them down. The others tried and fail. Edison tried and fail. They weren't for you."
"Hm," Olivia pondered her mother's words over for a few silent minutes, "What if I'm not even into guys?"
"Oh Mon Dieu, Olivia. Don't be ridiculous." Her mother chastised.
Pulling out of her mother's arms, she sat up again and looked at the woman who gave life to her. "I'm serious, Ma." She blinked. "What if those walls are build up because they're resistant to the male gender. What if I'm having an epiphany and my subconscious is trying to tell me something? What if my one true love in life is really a woman?"
"You're not gay, Olivia." Her mother dismissed the thought blatantly and reached for her cooling tea on the glass table.
"You don't know that!" Olivia protested.
Her mother rolled her eyes at her dramatics. "Do you find girls attractive?"
Olivia shrugged. "Yes. This is New York, mom. I see a bunch of badass, attractive Queens all the time."
"And how do they make you feel?"
"The shrink thing doesn't work on me, mom!" Olivia complained.
"Well you're being ridiculous!" Maya said. "Do you think about the female genitalia?"
"Oh my God!" Olivia smacked her hands on her face and groaned loudly. "This conversation is officially over!"
"You're not gay." Her mother sang.
Just no!
"Now that we've established that..." Olivia puffed out a sigh, "I'm just a fuck up then. That makes me feel so much better."
Her mother smiled sadly at her. "I wish you could see yourself the way I see you." The petite woman cried, her voice cracking with emotion. "You're such an amazing human being and you know what you want in life, Livia. I wish that I knew that about myself when I was your age. If I could go back in time and be in my twenties again, I would have given anything to be half the woman that you are now. You're not a fuck up. You just don't settle, and I'm infinitely proud of you for that."
Olivia was so grateful for her parents. Honestly, she could say that she definitely lucked out with them because her mother wasn't one of those parents that sat around and literally judged her for her shortcomings. And she wasn't always harping and hounding at her throat every second of the day to produce grandbabies for her to spoil. Both her parents were pretty laid back people and she knew that no matter what she did, she could always come back to them and they would love her just the same.
So while she was going through this period of self-pity in her life, she was so thankful for having hit the jackpot with a mother as caring and loving as Maya Pope.
Taking her mother's hand in hers, she entwined their fingers together and looked at the petite woman across her with a smile. She was her role model, her doppelganger... her ride or die. "You're my one true love, Ma."
"Oh honey..."
They hugged again for the longest time and surely, Olivia started feeling significantly better than when she walked into the door, a broken mess. It still hurt. Healing would take time but eventually she'll be okay.
At that exact moment, a pair of blue eyes flashed in her head and she couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips.
"You'll be alright, fireball." He'd told her and today for the first time in weeks, she started to believe it.
She'll be just fine.
"Fuck!" She cursed.
"What is it?" Maya asked.
"Dad's gonna be pissed. He really liked Edison's cheating ass."
Maya scoffed. "Please. Trust me, your father won't miss him one bit. He respected the fact that he knew his politics but other than that, your father always thought that he was too conservative, too boring. He supported the relationship because he thought that Edison made you happy. It's all we ever really want, baby. We want what makes you happy. We're always team Olivia."
Olivia smiled into her mother's shirt and sighed as she wrapped her arms tighter around the petite woman. "I missed you, momma."
"I missed you too honey."
"Will you make me your famous homemade mac n' cheese then?"
Her mother smiled, kissing her forehead. "Of course, baby."
...
Olivia spent the rest of the afternoon with her mom and Mrs. Robinson in the garden. It was a beautiful afternoon in the Hampton and they just enjoyed the beautiful day together, stuffing their face with delicious dishes and one too many cocktails.
By the time sunset came, Olivia was kissing her mother and Mrs. Robinson goodbye with the promise to visit again soon enough.
"Give your father a call. He misses you. I'm sure he'll be gutted that he missed you today."
"I will." Olivia promised. "I love you mom."
"Till the sun don't shine baby girl." Her mom replied.
And with that said, she climbed into her awaiting taxi, ready to experience the world with a new face. But first things, first, she needed a friend by her side.
She just hoped the offer still stood.
Part two coming up soon!
