III

"Justice!" Olivia let her phone fall from her hand, landing with a dull thud on the grey sofa. Heart pounding, she rushed across the room, heels clacking on the wooden floor, and threw her arms around her son.

"Where have you been? Where's Bailey?" she demanded, pulling back enough to look at him. She searched frantically behind him, her jaw falling when she saw her daughter entering the room with one of the last people she had ever expected to see standing in her living room in Woodstock, Vermont.

"Ho — Wha—" She had to pause, clearing her throat as she did and shaking her head. "What is happening?"

"It's kind of a long story," Bailey replied, sheepishly.

Olivia's gaze fully landed on her daughter, taking in the men's suit jacket she wore wrapped around her almost like a blanket. She watched as Bailey unwound the material from around herself, handing it to Fitz, before maneuvering out of her winter coat.

"I think the short version will work for now, Bailey. I'm sure the president —"

"I have all the time in the world." Fitz raised a brow at the look that Olivia threw his way upon his interruption. "I've heard the story once already, but I'd like to hear your version as well."

"My version?" Olivia frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and glowering at the man who had dared to interrupt her.

"Your version that explains why you would keep an envelope with my name on it and pictures of our children inside, but never tell me."

She froze at his words and the accusatory tone in his voice - a tone he had every right to use in that moment. Words were slow to come back to her, the guilt she had long ago buried returning with a vengeance in the face of his blue eyes.

"I think I would rather hear Bailey and Justice first and then we can talk." She swallowed, gesturing toward the grey sofa behind her. She perched on the matching grey wingback, watching as Bailey took a seat on the sofa, patting the cushion beside her for Fitz to sit.

Bailey took over telling her story, explaining to her mom about the Christmas project they had been assigned at school and her desire to know her dad. She explained her reasoning that had led to checking the attic, making special note that Justice had voice complaints every step of the way - deciding that he would only be involved if Bailey dragged him into it. She described her journey to the library and her search of Olivia that had eventually led her to Fitz. Ending her explanation, she turned to Olivia and asked:

"Was I right?" She raised a brow, in that moment looking so very much like Fitz that Olivia's heart hurt.

"Yes," Olivia whispered, clearing her throat once more before speaking in a steadier voice: "He is your father."

"Why didn't you —"

Olivia sighed, twisting to look at Fitz and speaking directly to him:

"I wasn't happy, Fitz. I was happy with you, but I wasn't happy playing First Lady. Dressing up for others, smiling and talking about recipes. I thought about leaving before I ever found out about Justice and Bailey. For a moment, I thought about an abortion. Returning to my old life. But I couldn't do that, so I left. And I ended up here. Raising two wonderful kids and still living my own life - not one that had become a show for the country."

"So you left? Without talking to me? You chose not to communicate, Liv. You could have at least told me that we were having kids. I would have —"

"I couldn't stay and you couldn't leave. That's something you would have never understood." Olivia shook her head, glaring at the man. The last thing she wanted was to argue in front of the twins.

"And in the years since? You could have sent a letter, made a phone call, anything. I should have known before my daughter showed up at a lecture! You didn't even have the decency to tell me you were okay, Olivia. You just up and leave." His eyes were dilated, nostrils flaring as he worked himself into a familiar tizzy - one that almost always seemed to be brewing somewhere below the surface when they were together.

"You are not going to guilt trip me with that. You honest to God expect me to believe that the president couldn't get any information he wanted on me?" She tilted her head, folding her arms over her chest.

"I tried —"

"Clearly not hard enough," Olivia snorted, rolling her eyes. "What's done is done. These two are not going to watch us yell at one another. I had enough of that myself as a child and I'll be damned if my children experience it. I'm not going to tell you that you can't know them. They went through a lot of trouble, and risked being grounded for life —" Olivia eyed the two in question, feeling a slight sense of satisfaction at their wide-eyed expressions. Clearly, they had thought she wasn't going to punish them. "—to find you. I'm going to go cook something for dinner. Stay, talk to them, or leave. I don't care. We can discuss how to move forward after they go to bed."


True to her word, once the twins were in their rooms (and, undoubtedly straining to hear what was being said a floor below them), Olivia met Fitz back in the living room. They both sat on the sofa, bodies angled toward one another, and glasses of white wine in their hands.

"I never meant to hurt you," she began, taking a gulp of her wine. "That year…it was awful. We finally got to say our piece and admit that we were together. That part was great until hostess became my one and only function. That wasn't for me. It will never be for me. I had already planned to leave. I love you, but I wasn't about to lose myself in pursuit of that love. When I found out that I was pregnant, I panicked. Suddenly, leaving wasn't as easy. If it was just me, you would have eventually accepted my need to do more. With a baby in the mix, you would have never accepted my walking away."

She paused, taking another sip of her wine and readying herself to continue.

"I had an appointment scheduled. I thought I could go through with it and return to my normal life. Then I saw the ultrasound. The one that Bailey found in that envelope. I couldn't go through with it after that. I knew then that I wanted those babies and I knew that there was no way I would be able to stay in D.C. —"

"—We—"

She shook her head, holding a hand up and pausing whatever he had been about to say.

"No, Fitz. You don't always see the whole picture — I am not criticizing you," she was quick to interject at the look that passed across his face. "I couldn't let you walk away from the presidency, if that's what you ended up choosing to do, and resenting me later. And I couldn't come back to the White House and play First Lady without resenting you. One of those things would have happened if I'd told you about the twins. I had to leave."

She watched as Fitz bowed his head, the crease on his forehead deepening as her words sank in. She sipped at her wine, letting the full, tart flavor settle over her tastebuds as she waited for his remarks. Remarks that were taking significantly longer than she ever remembered to come. If she didn't know better, he was thinking about what to say next - possibly avoiding an argument.

"I want to know them, Livvie." He turned to look at her, head tilted and blue eyes piercing, and her breath hitched in her throat - both from his look and hearing that nickname. "I want to be their father."

"I won't stop you," she assured him, glancing out the window and to the SUV sitting in front of her house, headlights on and, she presumed, still running. Snow continued to fall, coating the street, sidewalks, and the running vehicle. "Go ahead and tell your backup to come in for the night. All the hotels in the area are bound to be full. I have a guest room and the couch."

"You want me to stay the night?" Fitz raised a brow, tilting his head.

Olivia rolled her eyes, standing from the sofa. "Don't read too much into it."


Bailey was awake by the time Olivia made her way downstairs, wrapped in a silk robe and yawning. Olivia stood at the bottom of the staircase for a moment, listening as her daughter's voice drifted from the living room.

"I tried softball when I was little. I wasn't very good —"

"She's been up for the last hour. I don't think she's really let him sleep." Justice's voice came from behind her, causing Olivia to jump ever so slightly.

"And you aren't in there?" Olivia turned around, looking at her son.

"It's Bailey's show," Justice shrugged, leaning against the railing.

Olivia frowned. "You can help me get a few things out of the attic then."

Inside the attic, Olivia was quick to locate a box in a corner and open it to the photo albums inside. How Bailey had overlooked this box during her illicit snooping session, Olivia didn't know. Armed with two sizable albums, she turned to Justice who was loitering near the exit.

"Want to share why you're not so keen to talk to your dad?" Olivia tilted her head, hugging the two photo albums to her chest as she stared down her son.

"You didn't tell him about us. There has to be a bigger reason than what we heard last night. I'm not going to be as blinded by him as Bailey." Justice shrugged, reaching a hand out to take one of the photo albums from Olivia's arms.

"No, there isn't." Olivia shook her head, letting Justice take both albums from her arms. "You're young - you don't understand it. Most people my age wouldn't understand it. It wasn't a normal situation. He was the president of the United States. We had an entire country watching us. I had to do what was best for everyone no matter how it hurt."

Justice frowned, remaining silent for a moment as he appeared to consider what Olivia had said. Finally, he asked: "Mom…do you still love him?"

A small smile made its way to Olivia's lips as she took barely a second to consider her answer.

"I never stopped."