His world teeters on the edge of destruction as she explained what occurred a fortnight ago. His heart rammed in his chest and palms slowly secreted wetness further illuminating his discomfort. As she reviewed the details of her affair, he admittedly could not breathe. The white noise offered by the overhead fan of their bedroom only drowned out some of her speech. Nevertheless, the charged words continued to make its presence in his mind long after she had rolled away and went to sleep. He sucked in a hollow breath. His wife, his beautiful, enigmatic wife was an adulterer.

In some sick and twisted way, he understood that it was atonement for his sins. The sins that had led to their marriage, created three children and bonded them for nearly twenty years. Now, he could not bear to rest his hand on her hip as he had for so many years. He could not touch her. His privilege to touch her without restraint had been stripped from him. She admitted her affair, citing the lack of intimacy in their marriage but he could not agree. Had she forgotten that he only breathed, lived and participated in life because she (and now their children) was all he ever needed? Swallowing thickly, he leaned forward and rested his lips to the base of her skull. The wispy curls of her hair tickled his lips as it had every night for so many years. Gulping, he pushed away his pride and placed one final kiss to the back of her neck. She grumbled in her sleep but sunk further against him.

"Good night, Livie," He murmured and moved away again to rest on his back.

The following morning was filled with familiar shouts from their children. The clashing sounds of their stampeding feet bursting through the kitchen door only exasperated his headache. Groaning, he rubbed gently at his temples and inhaled another deep breath of his coffee. The fragrant brew enraptured him and he tentatively placed his lips to the brim. His son bumped into the table and tipped the steaming cup down the front of Fitzgerald's pressed white shirt. He sighed heavily and raised a hand to quiet his son's desperate apologies. His lips twisted into a pained smile and he clapped his son on the back.

"It's just a shirt, kiddo. No big deal," He replied tightly.

The searing coffee had begun to sink into his skin. He cleared his throat and exited the kitchen. His children's bickering followed him down the hall. As he reached the grand staircase, he was winded. Resting against the bannister, he briefly reflected how his life was turned upside down. Taking a breath, he began his ascent up the stairs. A nagging and persistent pain drummed in his chest but he locked it away. The symptoms of a broken heart were not congruent to his schedule today. His emotions would need to be tightly shut away until he could find ample time to grieve. Twisting the doorknob, he stopped suddenly upon hearing his wife's phone conversation.

"White – I am wearing white," She murmured demurely and her lips broadened into a cheeky grin.

Clearing his throat, he made his presence known as he moved further into their bedroom. Olivia made short apologies over the phone. Clicking the top small button, her lively phone shut down and locked. She tossed the iphone onto their bed and continued dressing. Fitzgerald was flabbergasted. Were they truly going to pretend that he had not just walked in on her cheekily flirting with whomever. His eyes roamed over her lithe frame. Since his arrival, she had slipped into a classical black pencil skirt and was wrestling the shirt over her shoulders. He swallowed thickly noticing the ornate white bra that she had chosen. He imagined that her panties and garter likely matched. Swallowing again, he sighed and shook his head. He took a seat on the bed and rubbed his temples. He could not continue to pretend that this wasn't affecting him – affecting them and their life. He made a cutthroat decision.

"What," She snapped clearly annoyed.

Squaring his shoulders, he began undoing the buttons of his shirt. He felt a deep sense of contentment knowing that this charade would not carry on for much longer. As the shirt slid from his shoulders, he folded it in half and tossed it atop the hamper. Ignoring her, he entered their adjoining washroom and brought a cloth to his reddened chest. The coffee had scathed his skin but he doubted it would mar or scar him. He dapped with the cold clothe at his skin careful to not aggravate the tender flesh. He practically jumped when her hand wrapped around his waist. Her body was flush against his back. Her peaked nipples strained against her shirt and brushed his back. His position stiffened and he turned on the faucet to wash out the rag. Her hand tightened around his waist and drifted slowly to the buckle of his pants. His eyes bulged in surprise and temper flared when his traitorous body responded to her touch. Gently, he grasped her wrist and removed her person from his. Facing her, he noticed the evident shock on her features but remained silent. His features were etched stonily. His lips were pressed into a firm line and eyes closed briefly to will his erection away.

"Baby," She purred and broke his focus.

Her hands outstretched to touch him again but he stepped back and away. Her brows rose quickly in recognition of his rejection. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders, he recognized the pose – she was readying for battle. Shaking his head, he wryly smirked and ran a hand through his hair. How could his beautiful, enigmatic wife possibly defend this? He had seen her work. When she stood in a courtroom, there was not a single person who dared not watch her. Her energy was entrancing. It had been what drew him to her immediately. He had sat across the room, staring at her, completely bewitched by her vigor and dumbfounded when the judge asked him to cross-examine the witness. Her sexy smirk and quiet comment that he should stop staring at her ass and cross-examine the witness made a fool of him, but how couldn't he be a fool for her? He had been a fool ever since.

"Livvie," He attempted but his voice was too gentle. He wanted to convey his convictions without swaying at his point.

"Olivia," He repeated his tone firmer and hand slipped into his pocket to grasp the rubber band. He twisted it between his fingers and maneuvered it into various shapes. The shapes held his focus and he felt stronger twisting his emotions into the rubber band while leveling with her.

"I know my name, Fitz," She teased and smirked.

"I am sure that he does too," Fitz choked out angrily.

He clenched his eyes shut in embarrassment. He had vowed to take the high road and not bring up her affair. It was the demise of their relationship, but he was an adult. He could discuss the state of their marriage without bringing up the one thing that plagued him. At least, he thought that he could. His raw emotions were overpowering him. They fluctuated from anger to pain to anger to disbelief. He was still reeling from the sudden twist of emotions that he nearly missed her agreement.

"I deserved that," Olivia agreed quietly.

Her hand reached out to touch him again and he jerked away more fiercely than intended. The evident shock was written clearly across her face. Her lips were parted in surprise and brow knitted to express her discontentment. He shook his head in apology and both hands slid through his hair to calm his temper. Sighing heavily, he turned and walked away. The many emotions were overtaking him and he refused to argue with her. He could not argue with anyone when he could not think straight. Per usual, she followed him huffing indignantly.

"Not now, Olivia," He commented and moved into their closet.

He began rifling through his shirts. He had a meeting in two hours one that he could not miss. If they began arguing now, he would never make it out of here. He pushed the dark shirts away and snatched a white shirt off the hanger. Tugging the shirt over his shoulders, he quickly began to button it up. He attempted to exit the closet but she blocked the doorway. He repeated his earlier sentiment: not now. She was undeterred. He attempted to step around her but she followed his step blocking his exit. Clenching his jaw, he angrily began twisting the sleeves of his shirt flipping it to rest at his elbows. Grinding his teeth, he finally huffed and threw up his hands in defeat.

"You want to do this now." He argued, "Fine, let's do this."

Grasping her wrist, he tugged her into the closet and slammed the door shut behind her. They stood silently. His heavy breathing broke the silence. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a harsh breath. He moved toward the door but she grabbed his arm. Yanking his arm away, he stood in front of the door with his back to her. It was cowardice but he could not face her as she detailed her affair again. He massaged the sudden lump in his throat and bitterly swallowed.

"Why," He choked miserably, "Why did you-"

His sentence broke off unable to continue.

"Sex," She supplied simply.

He turned around slowly reeling in disbelief. What? Sex? He must have misunderstood. Had his wife turned into a deviant that required sex more than what they were having? In retrospect, he realized how silly that idea sounded. He would have appreciated more sex too. In fact, he often dreamt of whisking her away for the weekend and never leaving bed. Between their personal work schedules and their children's hectic schedules, they were engaging with each other barely three times a week. There were moments when he had grown restless but he never strayed. His hand developed callouses from many 3am showers jerking determinedly into his own hand.

"You don't touch me anymore," She softly acknowledged.

His eyes bulged in surprise still disbelieving her explanation. His temper grew with each passing word. Instead of communicating her desire to him, she had sought another. He was stunned beyond measure. Nevertheless, he was determined to listen to this. If only to fuel his own desires and close the book on this chapter of his life.

"Did you hear me," She asked patiently.

"Ye-yeah. Yeah, I heard you," He acknowledged croakily, "Is that it?"

He winced. 'Is that it' was certainly not eloquent or how he should had staged the question. He bit his lower lip to stop further discussion. She determinedly continued, her hands clasping and twisting displaying her anxiety. He wanted to reassure her. His hands itched to cover hers but he resisted. Nothing good would come from it now if he touched her.

"No," She challenged, "You don't touch me like you used to, Fitz."

"Our schedules—" He began but she cut him off.

"Are shit," She finished, "But you've lost the spontaneity. This will—"

She huffed, "This goes against every principle I ever argue for, but—"

She paused clearly anticipating a comment from him but he had none.

"Fine," Olivia snapped, "Our sex life is boring. I am bored. You're boring." She continued on harshly, "Our sex is to maintain contentment. There's no passion or spontaneity anymore. We rarely touch outside of the bedroom. Yes, I know that I have complained about your previous wandering hands in public and aggression when you're jealous. I know that I asked you not to touch me sexually in front of the kids, friends, and family and—at work, jesus!" She exclaimed and released a heavy breath.

"What happened to that? I might've admonished you after Abby caught us that one time but I was never asking you to stop. What happened to the man that would 'stop by' for lunch?" She asked pointedly.

His brows knit in confusion, "We just had lunch together yester—"

She cut him off and exasperatedly explained, "I want to be the main course! Not go to a restaurant. Hell, I'll even settle for dessert. And restaurants – you used to finger me under the table. Where did that—"

He broke her dialogue, "You cheated on me because I stopped fornicating with you in public and fucking you over a desk." He asked angrily.

"No," She countered determinedly. Her teeth gnashed and she clenched her eyes shut to take a steadying breath.

"No." She repeated firmly, "I sought someone who wants me, who makes me feel wanted, who…"

She exhaled, "I waited for you. My whole life is you. I can't breathe because I am waiting for you to—

"I want you," He burst out angrily. "I wait for you. I watch for you. You think I don't want to dedicate myself to our marriage? You don't think I want to touch you, spend more time with you, kiss you whenever I want?"

His cheeks flushed as he angrily lashed out, "I love you. I'm in love with you. You're the love of my life. My every feeling, my every touch is controlled by the look on your face. I cannot breathe without you. Fuck, I can't sleep without you. I wait for you. I watch for you. I—"

He choked.

Clearing his throat, he continued, "I exist for you."

"You think I don't want you," He shook his head sadly, "I belonged to you."

"Fitz," She breathed and reached out for him.

He stepped away and his back hit the closet door, "We were in this together."

"Fitz, I-I am—" She tried but the words dissolved on her tongue.

He nodded curtly and turned to open the closet door. Stopping in the frame, he murmured, "I'll be home late." He refused to argue with her any further. Grabbing his briefcase from beside their bedroom door, he stormed downstairs, kissed their children 'goodbye' and left.

Standing in the center of their closet, his scent wafting from his clothes and filling her, Olivia realized what a cataclysmic mistake she had made.

Thank you for reading.

Constructive criticism welcome.

Warnings: BDSM, adultery, NSFW.

Future chapters will contain (very) explicit content.