Wedding Day
The air inside the wedding venue was thick with joy and celebration. Laughter and soft music filled the space, bouncing off the high ceilings, and the hum of chatter from Olivia's friends and family surrounded her. Olivia stood in front of a full-length mirror in the bridal suite, adjusting her veil one last time, her heart pounding in her chest. This should have been the happiest day of her life, but a part of her felt like she was suffocating under the weight of all the unspoken words.
Her mother squeezed her hand, beaming. "You're going to be so happy, Liv. You deserve this."
Olivia forced a smile and nodded, but all she could think about was Fitz, the voice that had haunted her since that phone call months ago. She'd tried to shut it out, to remind herself that she was making the right choice with Michael—safe, stable Michael who adored her, who never made her question where she stood. But every time she closed her eyes, all she saw was Fitz's face, the raw pain in his eyes when she'd told him she was moving on.
Suddenly, the sound of a commotion filtered into the bridal suite. Raised voices, the sound of something breaking. Olivia turned, confusion knitting her brow. Then she heard a familiar voice, slurred and angry, cutting through the noise.
"Where the fuck is she?" Fitz's voice echoed through the hallways, rough and frantic. "Olivia! Livvie!"
Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she pushed past her mother, her dress rustling as she hurried out of the suite. She found him in the lobby, leaning against a table that had been knocked over, a bottle of whiskey clutched in his hand. His suit was wrinkled, his tie hanging loose around his neck. His eyes were wild, red-rimmed, and filled with a desperation she'd never seen before.
"Oh my God, Fitz," she whispered, stepping toward him, her voice trembling. "What are you doing here?"
He spun to face her, nearly losing his balance, and pointed a shaking finger at her. "You—you're really going through with this?" he spat, his words slurred but laced with fury. "Marrying him? You don't even love him, Liv! You can't do this!"
The room had fallen silent, all eyes on them, but Olivia barely noticed. She rushed forward, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward a side room, away from the prying eyes of her friends and family. "You're drunk, Fitz. You shouldn't be here."
"Yeah, no shit, I'm drunk," he muttered as she shoved him into the room, shutting the door behind them. "I had to be drunk to stop myself from coming here earlier, to stop myself from—God, Liv, what the hell are you doing?"
Olivia spun on him, her hands shaking, her face flushed with a mix of anger and something else she didn't want to name. "What am I doing? What the hell are you doing, crashing my wedding like this? Are you trying to ruin everything?"
He stumbled closer to her, swaying slightly, his expression raw with pain. "No, you're the one ruining everything, Liv. You're ruining us! You're throwing us away for a life you don't even want!"
She pressed her hands to her temples, feeling like she was going to explode. "What us, Fitz? There is no us anymore! You made sure of that! You left me, over and over again!"
He let out a bitter laugh, swaying toward her, the whiskey bottle slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. "You always put it all on me, don't you? Like you weren't the one who kept pushing me away every time things got real. Like you didn't run right into his arms the moment things got tough."
Olivia's chest heaved as she fought to keep her composure, her nails digging into the fabric of her dress. "You don't get to do this, Fitz. You don't get to show up here and act like I'm the one who ruined everything! You left me, over and over, because you were too scared to love me the way I needed!"
"Bullshit!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the small room, the sound bouncing off the walls and crashing into her like a wave. "I loved you, Liv. I still love you. I always fucking have, even when it scared the hell out of me. But you never let me in! You never let me be what you needed!"
She recoiled, his words hitting her like a punch to the gut, tears streaming down her face. "You don't get to say that now," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You don't get to come here and ruin everything just because you're scared I might actually be happy without you."
"Happy?" He took a stumbling step closer, his hands reaching out, grabbing her shoulders. "You think you'll be happy with him? You think you'll be happy waking up next to him every day, pretending he's enough, when you know—you know, Liv—that it's me you'll always want?"
She tried to shake him off, but his grip tightened, and she looked up at him, tears blurring her vision. "You think it's easy for me?" she shouted, her voice breaking. "You think I don't know what I'm giving up? I know, Fitz. I know better than anyone. But I can't live my life in this cycle with you anymore. It's killing me."
He shook his head, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You're lying to yourself. You're lying to him. And you're lying to me. Because I know you, Liv. I know how you look when you're in love, and I see it right now, on your wedding day, when you're looking at me."
She let out a strangled sob, the words ripping through her like glass. "Why are you doing this to me?" she cried, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "Why can't you just let me go?"
His hands slid up to cup her face, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the anger radiating from him. "Because I can't, Liv," he whispered, his voice breaking. "Because I love you more than life itself, and I've always loved you, and I'll be damned if I let you throw your life away on someone who'll never love you the way I do."
She stared at him, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding in her chest. And she knew, in that moment, that he was right. That she was lying to herself, pretending that she could be happy without the mess and chaos of their love.
"Goddammit, Fitz," she choked out, her hands clutching the front of his shirt. "You ruin everything. You ruin me."
He leaned down, his forehead resting against hers, his breath mingling with hers. "Then let me ruin you," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "Let me be the mistake you keep making, over and over, because I can't stand the thought of you being with anyone else."
She closed her eyes, feeling his breath on her lips, and everything inside her shattered. "I hate you," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I hate that I still love you. I hate that you're right. I hate that you always have been."
"Then don't marry him, Liv," he pleaded, his voice raw and desperate. "Don't do this. Please."
She shook her head, her tears falling freely now. "I... I don't know how to stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don't know how to leave him."
Fitz pulled her closer, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "You don't have to know how. Just don't do it. Walk out of here with me. It's not too late."
Her heart pounded in her chest, and she felt like she was on the edge of a cliff, teetering between what was right and what she wanted, between safety and the wild, uncontainable love that had always been between them.
And then she made her choice.
With a shaky breath, she looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. "It was a mistake to try and move on. I don't want to marry him, Fitz. I never did."
The relief that washed over his face was palpable, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her like she was the only thing keeping him afloat. She buried her face in his chest, clinging to him as if he might disappear, and for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe that maybe, just maybe, they could be enough for each other.
Fitz held Olivia in his arms, feeling the trembling of her shoulders as she clung to him. Her face was buried in his chest, the fabric of his shirt growing damp from her tears. But he didn't care. For the first time in years, he felt like he could breathe, like the weight that had been crushing his chest was finally lifting. Her words still echoed in his head—I don't want to marry him, Fitz. I never did.
He tightened his grip on her, pressing his lips against the top of her head, inhaling the familiar scent of her hair. He'd missed this, missed her, more than he could ever put into words. And he knew—he knew—that this moment meant everything, that it was the beginning of something new, something they both needed.
"Hey," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "It's going to be okay, Liv. I promise."
She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him with red-rimmed eyes, her lips quivering as she tried to smile. "I don't even know what happens next, Fitz."
He cupped her face with both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tear stains on her cheeks. "We'll figure it out, okay? Together. No more running, no more bullshit. Just you and me."
Her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, her breath coming in shaky gasps, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The noise of the party outside, the memories of their past mistakes—none of it mattered right now. All that mattered was that she was here, with him, and she wanted the same thing he did. A future—their future.
But then the door to the small room slammed open, hitting the wall with a crack, and Fitz turned sharply, his arms still wrapped around Olivia as he faced the intrusion. His heart plummeted when he saw Michael standing in the doorway, his face a twisted mask of confusion, hurt, and rage.
Michael's voice came out as a low, dangerous growl. "What the fuck is this?"
Olivia jerked out of Fitz's arms, her eyes widening with panic as she looked between the two of them. Fitz felt a flare of protectiveness surge through him—he had been in enough fights to recognize the tension crackling in the air, and he stepped slightly in front of her, shielding her from the brunt of Michael's anger.
"Michael, just let me explain," Olivia started, her voice wavering.
But Michael's eyes were locked onto Fitz, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You're the one who should be explaining," he snapped, his gaze flicking to where Fitz's hands had been on Olivia's face, his eyes narrowing with accusation. "You show up drunk at our wedding, and now this? You're unbelievable, man."
Fitz met Michael's glare head-on, feeling his own temper flare. He wasn't proud of how he'd crashed the wedding, but he also wasn't going to let Michael dictate how this ended. "She's not going through with it, Michael," Fitz said, keeping his voice steady, but he couldn't help the bite that slipped into his words. "And deep down, you know why."
Michael's face twisted in disbelief, his eyes darting to Olivia, searching for something—some reassurance that he wasn't about to lose everything. "Olivia, tell me this isn't real. Tell me you're not—God, tell me you're not leaving me for him."
Olivia's breath hitched, and she reached out a hand, but her fingers fell short, trembling. "Michael, I—"
Fitz cut her off, his patience snapping. "She doesn't have to say anything," he bit out, stepping closer, the anger that had been simmering under his skin spilling over. "She's been pretending for months, trying to convince herself she could love you the way she loves me. But it's never been enough, and it never will be."
"Shut the hell up!" Michael barked, his face flushing red. "You don't know anything about what we've had, about what we've built together. You have no right—"
"I have every right!" Fitz shot back, his voice rising, the tension between them taut like a wire about to snap. He could feel Olivia's hand on his arm, trying to hold him back, but he shrugged her off, too far gone to stop himself. "Because I'm the one she's always come back to. I'm the one she called when she couldn't sleep, the one she couldn't let go of. You think you can just erase that?"
Michael took a step closer, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had gone white. For a moment, Fitz thought he might take a swing, but instead, Michael's voice came out as a low, bitter hiss. "You think you're some kind of savior, huh? You think she's better off with you? You're a wreck, Fitz. A fucking mess. You'll ruin her."
Fitz's jaw clenched, and he could feel the heat of his own anger, the way it threatened to spiral out of control. But then he glanced back at Olivia, saw the pain in her eyes, and he forced himself to take a deep breath, to let the rage simmer down. "Maybe I am a mess," he admitted, his voice rough, but quieter. "But she loves me, and I'm not letting her go. Not this time."
Michael's shoulders sagged as if Fitz's words had struck something deep inside him. He turned to Olivia, his expression crumpling with hurt. "Is that true, Liv? After everything we've been through, after everything I've done for you... you're really going back to him?"
Olivia's voice broke as she answered, her words coming out barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry, Michael. I never wanted to hurt you. But it's always been him. Even when I tried to move on, even when I tried to convince myself I could love you the same way... it's always been him."
Michael looked like he'd been punched in the gut, and Fitz couldn't help the flicker of guilt that twisted in his chest. But then Michael's face hardened, his eyes going cold as he looked between them one last time. "You deserve each other," he said, his voice flat, empty. "Good luck, Liv. You're going to need it."
With that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving the door swinging behind him. Fitz stared after him for a moment, the silence stretching out, heavy and oppressive. He took a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair, feeling like he'd just been through a battle.
Olivia let out a choked sob, burying her face in her hands. "God, what have I done?"
Fitz pulled her back into his arms, holding her tightly, feeling her tears soak through his shirt. "It's okay," he murmured, his own voice rough with emotion. "We'll get through this, Liv. I promise. No more lies. No more pretending."
She clung to him, her whole body shaking, but he could feel her starting to relax against him like she was letting go of the weight she'd been carrying for so long. And as he held her, he knew that whatever came next—no matter how messy, no matter how hard—they'd face it together.
Because this time, they weren't running away.
AN: I think I have one more chapter to conclude this "one-shot". Don't forget to leave a review if you wanna see more. :)