"Bullshit."

The journal slapped onto the mahogany desk with the thundering force of his suppressed rage. His eyes flitted to hers and noticed a spark. Said spark only drove his anger further and his hands clenched into white-knuckled fists. The days of blaming himself, wondering where he had gone wrong, times that he had fucked up, and being labeled "boring" were gone. Olivia wouldn't make the mistake of crossing her husband again. A tick had developed as he gnashed his teeth and released a harsh breath, she had pushed him too far. He had spent the latter part of the week studying her journal. Her words struck him deeply and she seemed to pen them without remorse. Clearly, Olivia didn't have any intention of ever showing it to him. And if she had, Fitz was angrier to consider it.

"Bullshit," He growled again.

He witnessed her flinch and arms crossed tightly over her chest. Fitz could see her gearing up for a fight. Her lips were twisted unhappily, and shoulders straightened to pose intimidatingly. He pointedly rolled his eyes. There was a time when he might have bowed over and would chalk it up to not wanting to waste time fighting. Now, he was ready for a fight. Each disparaging word picked at him. Snatching the journal off the desk, he thumbed it through his favorite passage. The passage that had made his throat constrict and burn with thick emotion. Grinding his teeth, he rolled his neck to subtly express his anger.

"I overheard Tom telling Fitz how he fucked his date this weekend," Fitz paused for effect.

Across the desk, he made eye contact. His piercing cerulean eyes seemed brighter with his anger. Redness had crept up his neck and flushed his cheeks. The veins in his arms were thick and more evident. He could feel her ears roaming over him. He could see her breaths were becoming quicker. Was she… fucking serious right now? His eyes practically bulged.

"Are you… fucking aroused," He practically spit out.

Her full lips parted. She emitted a soft breath and sucked in a deeper one. It sounded like a hiss as if she were stung. Her fingers twisted the fabric of her blazer, but she remained silent. Angrily, Fitz' eyes dragged over her lithe form. He attempted to take in the smaller movements that she attempted to hide. He tried to understand what she was thinking but she did well to keep a neutral expression. This entire process was maddening. He clenched his fists tighter and whirled away to from her. Revulsion flipped his stomach and Fitz felt his heart ram faster in his chest. Taking a deep calming breath, he slowly puffed the breaths out hoping to bring calmness. When his anger did not secede, Fitz decided not to push it away. He was entitled to his anger. Wasn't he?

He turned to face her again. His voice was steady even if he didn't feel it. His gaze snapped back to the journal. He repeated the first line again and continued to the second, "He told Fitz that he fucked her against the counter. His fingers probably left bruises. He held her down and made her scream. He spanked her. I wish I was embarrassed but I—"

He paused and gulped, "I was wet."

Fitz dropped the journal angrily back on the desk. "Is that how you feel," He asked accusingly, "You rather fuck my best friend than me?"

Shaking her head, Olivia's hand slid into her pants and retrieved a hair ribbon. She pulled her loosely coifed curls into a simple plait at the nape of her neck. He was not understanding. She attempted to steer her frustrations away from his misunderstanding and into her hands. Twisting her hands, she dropped them by her sides and shrugged off her blazer.

"By all means, take your fucking time," Fitz snapped.

"Don't speak to me that way," Olivia bit back.

Olivia was willing to accept that his anger stemmed from her actions, but she couldn't take it all back now. She had needs and desires. If she continued to keep them buried deep, what good would come from it? Her sexual desires were just as important as other components of their marriage. Frankly, she had grown exhausted of keeping it all buried. The journal had been an outlet of expressing her most intimate thoughts, acting out her fantasies, writing them all down and reading them later purely for masturbation purposes.

She should not have mentioned Tom. It was a line that she never should have crossed, but Tom was feeding her husband ideas and Fitz had just… laughed. He had laughed and encouraged his friend to give whatever the woman wanted, but other than a longer night of sex he had not indulged in rougher sex.

Olivia begged for "harder." He fucked her harder.

She asked him to hold her down. And he did, but his grip was never tight.

His hands were large, calloused and strong. He never showed her his true strength. She never felt the pressure that she desired pressing into her wrists. The mattress never bowed beneath his weight, and his finger prints never lingered the next morning. Olivia knew what he was thinking.

"What is bullshit, Fitz," Olivia asked pointedly.

"I am not going to abuse my wife, Olivia."

Of course.

'Of course,' She thought angrily.

He was not considering that she was very pointedly asking him to do the things described in her journal. She was providing written consent, and he was still refusing to acknowledge this was her will. She was not only frustrated but she felt invalidated. He clearly had not considered that herself discovery had not occurred over night. This was the buildup of several years. Reaching across the desk, she grabbed the journal and thumbed through the pages. She found the passage she sought and sat in the leather wingback across from his desk.

"I watched Fitz roll up his sleeves this morning," Olivia began quietly and cleared her throat shifting in the seat. In her mind, she could see the slow movement of the sleeve releasing from its gold cufflink and sliding across his forearm. She could imagine the way the white pressed shirt crinkled, flipped and folded along his arm to cuff at his elbow. His sun kissed skin was burned in her mind and thick muscles quickened her pulse.

"I watched him, and I was wet," She punctuated the word.

"His strong hands entice me. I wish I could feel their true strength against my body, but he won't. He won't show me what he is capable of. I have seen him lift both of our children with ease or haul the saddles when we visit the stables. I have seen him…" She choked and cleared her throat shifting again.

"I have seen him move our furniture with ease. And I want those hands on me. I want those hands gripping my thighs, holding me down, around my neck," Her eyes jump up to meet his eyes.

And he's terrified.

Her hands clapped the journal shut and she stood. She wouldn't continue and tear them further apart. Grinding her teeth together, she gathered the journal and other books to her chest. She could tell that hearing it aloud, in her voice had not persuaded him. Olivia couldn't read him at all now. Had it been worth it? Had telling him the truth, revealing this part of herself been worth pulling their life so far apart? As she opened his office door with her hip and disappeared into the corridor, Olivia wasn't sure that it had been.

Weeks past in bitter, heartbreaking silence. Predictably, the silence only grew the distance between them. Olivia began to resent Fitz, and in return, he had too. Even their children had begun to see something was amiss. Their mornings were no longer filled with their typical routines. Every other day, Olivia was beginning to sneak out earlier to avoid her husband. On the opposite day, Fitz would do the same. They had tried their best to dance around each other hoping to not run into each other. It was precarious and exhausting. He had permanently moved into the guest room or their children's rooms when he could not sleep which was more often than not.

When she could not sleep, Olivia had traveled across the street to Abby's house. Her best friend's home had become a sanctuary and she was deeply grateful. She had finally confessed the truth to Abby – her marriage was breaking down one day at a time. Worst of all, Olivia could not devise a solution. She admitted that she and Fitz did not have strong communication skills. In the past, they had fought bitterly and made up with sex. Their passion had held them together. Falling and staying in love had always been easy but talking about the harder aspects of their life always seemed to fail them.

They always say the solution came when you weren't looking for it. Olivia had been actively looking for the solution, but it couldn't come from her. She was too focused on looking for a solution to her problem that she stopped looking for to solve their problem. Fortunately, Abby was always capable of seeing the larger picture when Olivia was too narrow-minded.

One bright afternoon, Abby had entered Olivia's office with her iPad tucked under her arm and closed Olivia's office door. Olivia hadn't looked up too engrossed with the case file in front of her. Abby hadn't bothered to interrupt her politely. Instead, she had slid the iPad beneath her nose and tapped the screen to turn on. The page had a list of various sex therapists. Olivia couldn't help it – she burst out laughing. There was no way that Fitz was ever going to detail their sex life to another person.

"You're hilarious," Olivia deadpanned.

Abby rolled her eyes, "You're an idiot, Liv. You're going to lose him."

The reality check snatched her attention and she finally met Abby's pointed look. As much as she hated to admit when another person was right – Abby was. Now, she would just need to convince Fitz. She supposed the first step would be finding a way to begin speaking to each other again. Abby was already making her way out of the office when she called after her.

"Abby," she asked, "Do me a favor?"

Abby smirked, "I just did."

"Another." Olivia pried, "Can you watch the kids on Friday?"

Her friend nodded and disappeared through the door. She dropped her head into her hands and closed her eyes considering her plan of action. Olivia's door opened again, and she chuckled, "What now, Abby? A sex toy consultant?"

His deep, dark laugh answered, "I thought I had already helped you with that."

A/N:

I know, I know - I am sure several of you are frustrated with Olivia's behavior. I don't blame you, and honestly, she isn't supposed to be the "likable" character right now. I can only promise you that this story isn't going to be about blaming Fitz nor will it be entirely about Olivia's affair. This story is a journey focusing on how a marriage changes, how important communication is, and highlighting the importance of female sexuality.

I'm posting previews, discussions, answering questions, and photo edits on .c-o-m. I hope you'll check me out there too!