I have class on Thursday nights from 6-8:50 and it literally crushes my soul every single week when I get home 15 minutes after Scandal begins. I refuse to not watch from the beginning, so I always have to abstain from social media and wait til Friday. Damn you, grad school.

How To Get Away With Murder, though? It has my interest!

Anywayyyyyy…

Chapter 15: (Never Forget That) This Is Real

Olivia was sitting at the dining table in a beautiful kitchen. It was spacious and bright, with modern stainless steel appliances and sparkling granite countertops. It was odd—this place was nowhere that she recognized, nowhere that she'd ever been before, and yet it was just as familiar to her as it was strange. She had the funny feeling that this was herkitchen; that she was supposed to be here, that the sunlight streaming through the big, picture windows illuminated possessions that all belonged to her. She was sitting there, not doing much of anything, slowly sipping a warm beverage out of a mug, and there was a small, curly-haired toddler nearby. He was running around her, chasing something invisible in circles around the table. Her instinct was to warn him not to run, but she held herself back. He was smiling and giggling and having the time of his life, and she didn't have the heart to put a stop to that. He ran up to her knees and she scooped him into her lap as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his laughter filling the room as she tickled him gently. He had golden brown skin and big hazel eyes. This little boy belonged to her, too…

Olivia took a deep breath as her fingers played absent-mindedly with the ends of Fitz's hair. Her fantasy seemed so real, so tangible. She even thought she could smell the fresh scent of baby lotion.

A man appeared in the doorway. He was tall and brown-haired and strong. Fitz. He crossed the room and greeted her with a joyous, spine-tingling kiss. She tugged his bottom lip between her teeth and nibbled on it affectionately, making sure that he knew just how much she'd missed him, before they pulled apart and he took the boy from her arms. Fitz kissed the toddler and tossed him high into the air, spinning him in an exuberant circle before pulling him back into his chest. The child settled against him contentedly, his soft curls tucked under Fitz's chin as he began to suck his thumb. Olivia watched the scene unfold, her heart overflowing with a warmth and tenderness unrivaled by anything else in life. This was what she had always wanted-the baby, the man. They were where she should be and they were who she should be with. They were her everything.

A single, long snore left Fitz's mouth on an exhale, drawing Olivia from her fantasy. She stilled her fingers and peered down at him as he grumbled and shifted against her. She thought for a second that he might be waking up, but instead he calmed and slumbered on. They were lying together on his living room sofa, Olivia on her back while he slept with his head tucked in her bosom, his warm, naked body serving as a blanket over hers, keeping her safe from the chill in the air. Olivia held him close, one hand between his shoulders while the other stroked his hair, cherishing this precious moment with him. She wanted to let him sleep for as long as she could. He deserved to rest, even if her mind was too full of anxiety to allow her body to do the same. She was simply staring at the ceiling, the muted television casting shadows across the room, daydreaming of a world that she desperately wished to live in.

The room was quiet and peaceful, the complete opposite of what Olivia felt on the inside. There was a storm brewing within her, and it was strange and painful, headed by a dark cloud of dread. Time was passing by far too quickly.

Her cell phone vibrated and she instantly reached out to stop it, moving only one arm, afraid that it would disturb Fitz. But he didn't seem to be bothered as she checked the call log before placing the phone on the floor beneath her. Relief filled her when she saw that it was just Harrison calling, but her anxiety returned tenfold when she caught a glimpse of the time.

8:55.

8:55 p.m. It was over. They were out of time. Olivia needed to go home for good. It wasn't going to be possible for her to stay here any longer. She could no longer be with this man who had somehow come to mean so much to her. It was Friday, February 28th, and Edison's plane was scheduled to land at 9:00pm. Olivia never picked him up from the airport, but she still needed to get home before he did.

She could not stay with Fitz anymore.

Tonight she would have to share a bed with her husband.

It felt surreal. For a while, she and Fitz had all but officially lived together in pure harmony. It was easy to forget about Edison when she was with Fitz. It was easy to simply pretend that this day would never arrive. But now, reality was here. Olivia's chest was constricting and her mind was racing. Her heart felt like it was breaking into millions of little pieces. It hurt.

And it was a strange way to feel for someone who wasn't her husband.

It had been bad enough the previous week, when Fitz had custody of Teddy and Olivia had been forced to spend her nights at home. She and Fitz still found ways to see each other during the day—they'd snuck in moments on lunch breaks and while Teddy was participating in afterschool activities—but nights at home without him had been incredibly lonely. They were sure to be insufferably painful, an unfathomable kind of torture, now that Edison would be home for the foreseeable future.

Tomorrow would make three weeks since she and Fitz had begun their affair, and Olivia could now admit that he was the most important person in her life. He was her closest friend, her biggest supporter. He was the person who she wanted to share little details of her day with, the person who she wanted to see first in the morning and last before bed. He was the center of her world, and she knew that she was his. This affair between them, it had evolved into more than just sex—maybe it had never even been just sex in the first place. Fitz had made himself a permanent place in Olivia's soul. She had feelings for him. They were strong and vibrant and they kept her heart beating joyfully even when he wasn't near. She couldn't—or wouldn't—identify them yet, but she had enough sense to know that they were there. There was no use in trying to pretend that they weren't.

No matter what she felt for Fitz, however, he would never be the man that she was married to.

Olivia didn't know what Edison's return was going to do their relationship. She was confused, torn between the things that she carried in her heart for Fitz and the obligation she felt towards the man she had chosen to marry. She questioned the fact that she once thought that she believed in the sanctity of marriage, but now she was freely, happily betraying her husband with hardly a sense of remorse. Could she continue to do that with Edison at home? Would she feel more guilty, more ashamed of herself, when she had to lie next to him each and every night? Would she be able to look him in the eye, to lie to his face and continue to cheat on him? Would she be able to carry on with her relationship with Fitz, knowing that she would have to return home to Edison?

She didn't know.

Olivia stared back up at the ceiling, her fingers playing in Fitz's hair again, very aware of the fact that the clock was slowly ticking. 8:56…8:57…

Edison would be calling at any second to let her know that he'd landed. And after that it would take him forty minutes to gather his luggage and grab a taxi home. The drive home from Fitz's apartment would take Olivia twenty minutes. She needed to get there, replace the toiletries and clothing that had permanently been at Fitz's, change her clothes, and pretend that she was sleeping. Edison was used to her going to bed early. He would be suspicious if she were still awake so late. She needed to get going. Now.

But it seemed like such a shame to disturb Fitz. The look on his face as he slept was so…calm, peaceful. Like he didn't have a care in the world. Olivia watched him for a few moments, taking in the gentle rise and fall of his head against her breasts. She didn't want to be the one to drag him back to reality.

8:59.

"Fitz," she murmured, scratching his shoulders affectionately. He loved it when she scratched his back—it was one of the countless tidbits she'd learned about him in the last few weeks, "Fitz!" her voice grew stronger, "Fitz…"

He stirred and raised his head to look at her, hair tousled from the work of her fingers, eyes blinking away sleep. He hadn't just been dozing; he had been soundly asleep for the last twenty minutes or so.

Olivia's throat was too tight. She met his gaze but didn't—couldn't—say anything more, her eyes telling him everything she didn't have the words for. He simply looked at her for a moment before he bowed his head, his lips finding the curve of her breast and claiming it.

"Livvy," his voice was low, gravelly from sleep. He adjusted himself so that he could leave a trail of delicate kisses all the way up her sternum, up the length of her neck, straight to her lips, which he wasted no time in drawing into a deep, possessive kiss.

Olivia closed her eyes and poured her heart and soul into that kiss, her hands grasping the back of his head to hold him in place as she opened up beneath him. Her back arched, their mostly naked bodies fitting together perfectly as her every nerve became attuned to the flurry of softness, of wetness, of lips and tongue and various other body parts moving together as one. His hands snuck up her sides to cup her face, and in that moment it seemed to Olivia that he would never let her go.

She didn't want him to.

She wanted him to fight for her.

But they eventually they had to break apart, and Olivia opened her eyes to find that tears were already streaming from them.

Damn it. She had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. She was never this emotional with Edison. It was only Fitz who managed to do this to her.

"Oh, Livvy," he did what he always did; tender fingers swept across her cheeks, wiping her tears away. He'd told her once that her tears were going to kill him, and the current expression on his face made her wonder if maybe that were true.

She forced herself to stop crying. She'd known that this moment would come. She needed to get it together.

"I have to go," she told him with more determination than she felt. He looked deeply into her eyes.

"No," he said simply.

"I—I have to. It's getting late."

"Run away with me, Livvy. To Vermont."

Olivia smiled. In the weeks since she'd first referenced it on Valentine's Day, Vermont had become a sort of running daydream between them. They would talk about a life where the two of them could live freely together, their respective spouses a thing of the past, with Teddy and Fitz's two older children in a house big enough to fit them all. It was always in Vermont. And Olivia always insisted that they make jam. She was confident that Fitz would learn to like it.

But that was just a dream. They were living in reality. Olivia told Fitz as much, and he frowned.

"I have to go," she said again.

"I don't want you to."

"Me either," Olivia cupped his cheek, liking the feel of his slight stubble beneath her palm, "But you won't be lonely. Teddy will be here tomorrow."

"He's not the same—I love him and I'll be happy to see him, but you know that he is not the same."

"I know."

Her phone vibrated again, loudly rattling against the hardwood floor. Olivia glanced down at it to see Edison's name displayed on the screen. So he had landed. Something heavy, like a rock, settled in her stomach. And she knew that Fitz was reading Edison's name too, because he suddenly tensed before he sat up and moved off of her, scooting down to sit at the end of the sofa by her feet.

"You have to go," he said then, looking at her as though the gravity of the situation was hitting him for the first time.

"Yes," she sat up too and inched closer to him. He lifted his arm, willingly allowing her to settle against his side even though they both knew that they should be getting dressed. He tilted his head to rest atop hers, and for a moment they just sat together.

"Is this the end?" he asked suddenly, turning to look at her. In all of their intimate late-night discussions, they had never talked about what would happen when Edison returned home. Olivia raised her head and met his gaze.

His eyes were full of such pain and sorrow. She had never seen him look so sad before, and it was crushing her heart all over again. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, pushing back the tears that threatened to resurface. Fitz was the most incredible person in her life. The last thing she wanted was to see him hurting.

But shouldn't she ought to be worried about hurting her husband more? Wasn't that the way it was supposed to work?

Olivia didn't answer. She didn't know how.

Seeing that she was incapable of a response, Fitz smiled sadly and pressed an affectionate kiss to her lips.

"I'll text you," he murmured, "Every morning and every night. We're friends, remember?"

"We're not friends," Olivia told him quietly, and he nodded.

"We're not friends," he agreed, "But I'll still text you."

"Okay," Olivia whispered, because she would miss it if he didn't, "I promise I'll respond."

He smiled and kissed her forehead.

"Good," he said, "Maybe we can talk on the phone when we both have the time?"

Olivia nodded, and he continued.

"And…I know you probably won't want to come over as often—"

"I do want to come over as often," Olivia blurted out before she could stop herself. Fitz squeezed her waist affectionately.

"You won't be able to come over as often, then," he corrected himself, eyeing her to see if she had any objection to that. Olivia remained silent. Much as she wished that he were wrong, he was right, "But whenever you can, Livvy, you just show up here. You're always welcome. Always. Even if Teddy's here—"

"I can't come over while Teddy's here," Olivia interrupted. Fitz frowned.

"Why not? He should get used to seeing you outside of school."

Olivia ignored the slight flutter in her heart when she thought of Fitz wanting to introduce her to Teddy on a personal level. It was inappropriate.

"He's seven. He'll tell all his friends. I'm his teacher. I'm married."

Fitz was silent for a moment, and Olivia knew he couldn't argue with that.

"Fine, then. But still…you're always welcome here. Whenever you want to come—whenever you can come. I want you in whatever way I can have you, Livvy."

Olivia nodded even as she thought to herself that she didn't just want to have Fitz in whatever way possible—she wanted to have him in every way possible.

But that just couldn't happen.

She sighed, a feeling of dismay settling in her chest. She was trapped, a woman with no escape. Never before had she wished that she hadn't married Edison—not like she did now. She wished that she had met Fitz first. They could have flirted and dated and fallen in love like a normal couple. Everything would have been perfect. Edison would never even have been in contention.

Now, she was a married woman. It was true that she could get a divorce, but divorce…it was a big word. Just a few weeks ago she hadn't had even the slightest doubt that she would be with Edison forever. The idea of divorce—she thought about it, but it was still something that she could hardly wrap her head around. She wasn't ready. Not yet.

"I'll come whenever I can," she whispered, but even as she said the words she had the sinking feeling that everything would change the moment she returned to Edison. She didn't want it. She dreaded it. The last few weeks with Fitz had been absolutely amazing, and she wanted them to stay exactly how they were. She took a deep breath, "I hate this."

"Me too," he said sadly.

Even though she knew that she shouldn't, Olivia closed her eyes and sank deeper into his side. This was the last time they would sit like this, and she wanted to remember everything about how he felt, about how he smelled, about how he made her feel. She wanted to remember so that she could close her eyes on lonely nights and pretend that she was with him. He sighed and leaned his cheek on the top of her head, and neither of them spoke for a long time.

Then Olivia's cell phone vibrated again. It was Edison. Again. She couldn't ignore him this time. With a sharp, almost unbearable pain in her heart, Olivia pulled herself from Fitz's grasp and reached for the device, forcing herself to answer just before it went to voicemail.

She was leaving.

Fitz almost couldn't believe it. This was it—the night he'd been dreading. Sometimes when he was with her it was so easy to forget that their moments were stolen, that their time was limited. In the last three weeks she had shown him so much of who she truly was. Fitz had seen her at her highest and at her lowest—at her happiest and at her most vulnerable. He had heard her laughter and seen her tears. He had learned her favorite things, her secrets, the little nuances that made Olivia Davis the incredible woman she was. If he never got to be with her again, he would look back on these last three weeks as the happiest time of his life.

As he sat on the end of the sofa, listening to her talk to her husband, Fitz knew that legally, she might belong to Edison, but he—Fitz—was the one who held her heart. It was there in the way she kept her wedding ring carefully hidden, in the way she smiled at Fitz like he was the one who lit up her soul and complemented him like she was his missing half. He had her heart, and in a perfect world that was all that would matter.

But the thought was little consolation as she hung up on Edison and turned to face him with a weak, watery smile.

"I have to go."

He knew. She'd repeated it many times, like she was trying to tell herself as much as she was telling him.

Fitz took a deep breath and reminded himself that he had known this was coming. He had known that she wouldn't be able to stay with him forever. And, as much as the thought of Edison putting his hands on her made him want to yell and punch things, she was clearly upset. Her little frame looked so vulnerable on the other side of the sofa, shaking from the effort of holding back her tears. He needed to be strong for her. He needed to help her get her things together and reassure her that everything really would be okay.

Even though he wasn't really sure about that himself.

He wasn't sure what Edison's return would do to their relationship. There obviously wouldn't be any more sleepovers, but would he and Olivia get the chance to be together at other times? Would he see her at all outside of days when he needed to pick up Teddy from school? Fitz had tried not to, but he had gotten so accustomed to her presence in his house. He would miss her so much. He wished that he could get rid of Edison, that the other man would somehow mysteriously disappear or that Olivia would decide that she needed a divorce. He wondered if she thought about that sometimes, but he hesitated to ask. He'd told her before what he truly believed: if she wanted to change or end her marriage, she was going to have to come to that decision on her own. It couldn't be something that their relationship was indebted to.

What Fitz did know was that Olivia was a woman of principle. She was a woman who had—until three weeks ago—taken the institution of marriage very seriously. She believed in her wedding vows, she believed that she should love and cherish Edison until death do them part—even when he wasn't a good husband to her. Fitz knew that it was hard enough for her to cheat on him while he wasn't around; when he was home, Fitz suspected that it would be even more difficult.

But he wouldn't push her. Her dedication to the man she had chosen to be her life partner was one of the many things he loved about her. He only wished that he could have been that man.

He walked her to her car. The late-February night was bitterly cold, but they walked slowly anyway, hand-in-hand, each trying to prolong this final moment as much as possible.

"Your hands are cold," she observed quietly as they approached her silver BMW. Her hands were clad in dainty cream-colored gloves, but his were bare. Truthfully, Fitz wasn't aware of whether or not they were cold. He couldn't feel much of anything besides the dull ache in his heart.

"They're fine," he assured her, "It's only for a few minutes."

"Here," she covered his one exposed hand with both of her gloved ones and rubbed firmly, then brought it to her lips so that she could blow warm air on it.

"Really, Livvy, it's fine," Fitz insisted as they stopped walking in front of her driver's side door. She turned to face him with wide, somber eyes, and he knew that her preoccupation with his hands was something she was trying to use to distract herself. He pulled his hand from hers and used it to cup her cheek, "We're fine."

Or at least, he hoped so.

She nodded, and Fitz let his eyes sweep over her form one more time. Soft, bouncy curls held back by a headband; gorgeous brown eyes; sweet, plump lips; slender figure hidden beneath a long houndstooth coat…Even with an aura of sadness about her, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Fitz took a second to try and commit every single detail about her to memory before he leaned in for a kiss.

It wasn't what he'd intended, but the kiss turned very heavy very quickly. It was desperate, passionate, almost frantic, her hands travelling over every inch of him before finally locking around his neck. She leaned into him, kissing him with all of her emotion, and Fitz responded by pushing her backwards, trapping her body between her car and himself. He wrapped his hands around her waist, keeping her secure as he ravaged her lips over and over.

"Fitz," they finally stopped kissing, but they didn't move away from each other. Fitz kept his arms around her and pressed his forehead against hers, their faces centimeters apart as she whispered his name brokenly. There were tears in her eyes, and Fitz was surprised to discover a few drops clinging to his own lashes as well. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried, but the thought of spending what could potentially be the rest of his life without her was too much to bear.

He blinked and one escaped, rolling down his cheek until she reached up to stop it, wiping his tears the way he had so often done for her.

"You're crying," she said hoarsely, and there was a lump in his throat that was impossible for him to swallow.

"I love you," he didn't even think about the words before he said them. He just couldn't keep them to himself anymore. After tonight, he might never get to be with her. He might never get to hold her in his arms like this again. He still wasn't sure if she was ready to hear it or not but, before he let her go, he needed to make sure that she knew how he felt.

She stared at him, her eyes wide and glossy with unshed tears, her mouth opened into a perfect, surprised 'O.'

"I love you," Fitz said it again, louder this time. There would be no questioning later as to whether she had misheard him. And now that he'd said it once, he wanted to keep saying it. He wanted to climb to the top of his building and shout it off of the roof until he was sure that she knew that he meant it. He leaned in and claimed her lips once, twice, three times softly. She didn't respond, didn't move, "I love you, Livvy. So much. I know that I shouldn't and that this wasn't supposed to happen, but I need you to know. I've loved you since the moment I first saw you, okay? I love you, Olivia. I. Love. You."

He finally stopped saying it, but she remained silent. Speechless. For once in his life, Fitz couldn't read her expression. He wondered if she was panicking, if he had put her on the spot. He raised one hand and let his fingers tangle in her hair.

"You don't have to say it back," he assured her. He could still feel the depth of her feelings for him even if she wasn't yet ready to admit them, "I just…I wanted you to know. In case time goes by and we can't be together and you start to think…start to think that maybe you just made all this up. That maybe it wasn't real, or you were imagining how intense we are. You weren't imagining things, Livvy. This is real. We are real. I love you."

"We're real," she finally spoke and her words were barely audible. She blinked and a river of tears spilled and stained her cheeks, "I know, Fitz. We're real."

"We're real," Fitz repeated one more time, hoping a time would never come when he would question it himself. She looked at him with wide eyes full of sorrow.

"I won't forget it, Fitz," she promised.

"I won't forget it either, Livvy."

It wasn't supposed to have gotten emotional. It should have been purely physical. All sex—no intimacy and definitely no bonding. The Olivia of three weeks ago had been hot for Fitz. She had been sexually needy, aching for the endless bouts of explosive, cataclysmic release he could provide for her. She had been touching herself, pretending that her fingers belonged to Fitz, for years and years. She had been in an exquisitely torturous state of longing for him, and she'd thought that indulging in her desire for him would help ease the tension that simmered within her. She'd thought that she simply needed to get him out of her system.

Right? Had that been what she was thinking?

It all seemed so ridiculous now. The notion that she would ever, ever be able to satisfy her thirst for Fitz, the notion that she would ever be able to get him out of her system was absolutely ludicrous.

She hadn't counted on the emotional aspect. That wasn't supposed to happen. She should have balked, should have put an end to things the moment she found herself pouring out details relating to her feelings about her miscarriage—details that even her husband wasn't aware of. She should never have let it come this far, but she hadn't been prepared to stop it. She had never even imagined that it could come this far.

Three weeks ago, she never could have fathomed that leaving him would be this painful.

I love you.

He had surprised her. At first, she wasn't even sure that she had heard him correctly. It was the last thing she'd expected him to say. But he'd repeated it, effectively eliminating her inclination to doubt herself.

I love you.

If someone had asked her beforehand, she would have thought that maybe his I love you would scare her. That it would freak her out and send her mind racing into a jumble of panicky thoughts and feelings. And it did, a little bit, but it also felt…natural. Good, as if that was something he was supposed to say to her all of the time. As if him loving her was supposed to be allowed. And, even through the miserable fog that had become her emotional state, there was a part of her that still soared high. He loved her. He'd said it. She was as important to him as he was to her. He really, truly loved her.

That meant something.

And it made leaving him all the more painful.

She cried her way home, tears blurring her vision to the point where she contemplated just pulling over. She needed a minute to sit and cry, to get all of her tears out so that she was able to see again. But she didn't have time. It had taken her far too long to leave Fitz's house, and if she wasn't careful Edison was going to get home before her. She didn't have a reasonable excuse as to why she was not in bed like she'd told him, as to why she was arriving home—in tears—so late on a Friday night.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she pulled into her driveway and found that her house was still dark and empty. Edison hadn't arrived yet. She parked in the garage and quickly gathered her things, exiting the vehicle and entering her home.

It was funny—it didn't feel like home. Olivia paused in the foyer and looked around, her eyes roaming over the crystal chandelier and the marble flooring, the modern décor and the wide spaces. The mansion that Edison had purchased to raise the family that they would ideally create was beautiful, but it had never been what Olivia truly wanted. Sure, Edison had tried to make it more appealing for her—installing her whirlpool tubs and the backyard swimming pool, giving her an entire bedroom to transform into a library—but it was still…lonely. It was too big and too empty. When they first moved in, Olivia had hoped that that would all change once they filled it with children, but now…children with Edison was something she could hardly even imagine.

With Fitz, on the other hand…Olivia could see them together, filling a house with half a dozen children. They would live in a smaller, cozier, more intimate place, and it would be home. It would feel like the place where Olivia belonged.

Olivia snapped out of her haze and made her way up to the master suite. She moved quickly, unpacking her bag, putting away clothing and shampoo and makeup, things that she had taken to Fitz's apartment nearly three weeks ago and never brought back. She changed into her pajamas and stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth. She'd managed to stem the flow of tears, but her eyes were red and her face was puffy, a dead giveaway that she'd been crying. She washed her face rigorously, hoping to scrub away all evidence, before she dimmed the lights and climbed into bed for a pretend sleep.

Fitz paced his apartment restlessly, unable to get over the powerful sense of loss that hit him as soon as Olivia, the love of his life, drove away. Part of him still expected that she would come back, as if she had only gone out to run errands and would return any minute now. The other part of him was reeling with despair. She hadn't just run to the store—she had gone home to her husband. She wouldn't be coming back tonight or anytime soon. Edison was coming home, and he would get to kiss and touch her in the way that Fitz wanted only himself to do. And the worst part was that Fitz had no right to stop it. He had no right to feel the things that he did—the anger, the jealousy, the heartbreak…those weren't things that he could act upon. He couldn't bring Olivia back, and it was devastating.

He hadn't counted on this. Three weeks ago, Fitz had been a man enthralled, a man captivated, mesmerized by a beautiful woman. He had been falling far and fast for Olivia and he hadn't been able to stop it. He also hadn't taken the time to consider what it would be like—what it would really, actually be like—when she left. He had always known that this day was coming, but he had pushed that knowledge deep inside, as if by ignoring it he could somehow prolong the inevitable.

He didn't know what to do now that she was gone. His bed sheets still smelled like her, his kitchen was full of memories with her, and a pretty, feminine red scarf lay overlooked by her on his coffee table. She was everywhere—in his apartment, in his head, in his heart.

He decided to go for a run. He needed to burn off steam somehow. It was cold outside, but he threw on running clothes and headed out anyway. He ran, and ran, and when he thought he might be getting tired he pushed himself and ran some more. He needed to be completely and utterly exhausted. Otherwise, he was going to lay awake all night, wondering what Olivia and Edison were doing. And he would drive himself crazy because he knew what he would be doing if he were in Edison's shoes—he would have his hands, lips, and tongue all over Olivia all night long. Fitz had never wanted to punch something, to destroy something as badly as he did at that very thought.

When he finally allowed himself to return home, he paused at the place on his street where Olivia's car had been. It was the place where they had stood, reluctant to leave each other, and he had told her that he loved her. He felt good about having said those words, like a burden had been lifted off of his chest. Of course, he would have liked for her to say them back, but she hadn't and that was okay. She needed time to get used to the idea of him loving her and Fitz wouldn't push her. In the meantime, her actions spoke more than enough.

He returned to his apartment physically exhausted but no closer to erasing Olivia from his mind. He took long, hot shower before he got into bed. He tried to think about other things—about Teddy, about work, about Karen and Gerry—but it was no use. His mind kept wandering back to Olivia, envisioning her in bed with Edison, her cuddled up to Edison the way she used to cuddle up to him. Part of him knew that he was probably being ridiculous—Olivia had mentioned multiple times that Edison was not a cuddler, that their sex life left much to be desired, that Edison could return home from a business trip with nothing more than a chaste kiss hello, but Fitz couldn't help but conjure up the worst case scenario.

His night was long and sleepless. And it was the first of many.

Please tell me that you still love me. In all fairness, I did mention that we still had a few hurdles to get through—this is one of them. We see that Olivia clearly has feelings for Fitz, but she can't quite articulate (to herself or to Fitz) what they are or what they mean. She's also a woman with (cheating aside) pretty solid principles, so even though she wants Fitz she's going to suffer through a lot of guilt initially, and the idea of divorce is going to take some getting used to for her. But we love her anyway, don't we?

Someone asked if it's going to take like 10 chapters for Olivia to be done with Edison. I'm thinking…eh, not 10, but we'll have at least one more. I'm thinking that the next chapter may be shorter, though. I was initially going to make it the end of this chapter, but it's not finished yet and didn't really seem to flow well with this anyway. It also doesn't flow well with what I have planned for after, so it may just be it's own little shortie. We'll see.

Also, forgive me if you think this chapter was a little too much/repetitive with all the feels. I wanted to get their emotions down and hopefully I did that in halfway decent fashion.

I would love to hear your thoughts. Compliments and constructive criticism are always appreciated.