A splitting headache coupled with the sun streaming through the plantation shutters greeted Olivia as she woke the next morning. She rolled away from the entirely too bright sun and pulled the covers tighter around her. Her body ached and her stomach roiled from the too sudden movements.
The scents of fresh brewed coffee and bacon wafted through the air, which meant that Fitz was still there and apparently making breakfast. She rolled over again and buried her face in the pillow, his pillow; the pillow where he'd spent the night.
She screamed into the pillow, kicking her feet against the mattress for good measure. Was she really so weak that this man who'd nearly destroyed her was able to completely override any and all resolve she had?
As soon as they walked into the house, Fitz's lips found hers again. This time, however, the kiss was slow, thorough, and totally familiar. Like slipping on a well-worn pair of jeans that fit just right. His fingers brushed the top of her décolletage and caused tiny bits of electricity to run everywhere he touched.
Her stomach was tight in anticipation, she wanted more. How? When just moments ago she wanted to be far away from him. That wasn't true, and she knew it, but it sounded like she'd at least attempted.
He held her away from his body, taking time in tasting her mouth and nipping at her full lips. Olivia moved to step in closer, but as she moved, he moved. It was infuriating and clever, and he knew that.
With staggered breaths, he released her mouth and trailed kisses down her chin until he reached the hollow of her neck. He bit and sucked alternatively. He knew her. He knew all of her spots, all the places that drove her wild and threw her off kilter.
She equally loved and hated that fact.
She allowed her fingers to move through the curls at the nape of his neck while his hands made short work of unbuckling the halter of her dress. Once her strapless balconette was exposed, he lowered his head and let his lips and tongue travel along the tops of her perky mounds.
"Tell me to stop now, Olivia. Tell me you don't want this."
Olivia trembled in his grasp and shook her head. She couldn't push him away, not when her body was yearning to feel what she hadn't felt in many, many months.
"Tell me you want me."
"No," Olivia shook her head and reached up to pull his face back to hers. She kissed him soundly before moving her lips along his jaw. "No, talking."
She pulled back and grabbed his hand leading the way down the darkened hallway to the bedroom. The storm had finally made its way to shore and lightning lit their faces as they undressed, the rumbles of thunder adding to her unsteadiness.
She ignored his plea and pushed him down to the edge of the bed. She pulled up the hem of her dress and straddled his legs. She reclaimed his lips and sent her fingers through his hair once more.
"Are you drunk?" Fitz struggled to get out as she tormented his lips with her teeth. Fitz grabbed her head between his hands and held her away.
"Olivia, stop. Tell me this is what you want, or this isn't going any farther."
Olivia struggled for a moment in his grasp, but relaxed as he ran his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks.
"Not until you tell me what I need to hear. Do you want me? Do you want this?"
"Why do you need to hear the words? Can't you tell what I want?"
Fitz shook his head and held her gaze in his. "I need to know that this is real."
Olivia moved her hands to his biceps and pulled her body closer to his allowing him to feel her heat and her to feel his hard length against her dampened center.
"Feels pretty real to me."
Fitz let go of her face and moved gently moved her from his body. He stood beside the bed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.
Olivia looked up at him from her sprawled location on the bed—part in wonder part in fear.
"Do you not want me?" she asked in a small voice he'd never heard her use.
"I want you every moment of every day with every breath I have, but we've screwed this up enough. You and I have definitely screwed this up and I'm not willing to take a chance on the face that you'll regret this in the morning. So, until you can tell me that you want this, and me, and not as a sometimes thing, then I'm not taking you to bed."
"I want you to make love to me."
"For how long?"
Olivia stood on trembling legs and walked over to him. "For tonight."
He gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "One night's not enough." He bent and kissed her lightly, gently.
She grabbed his shirt tightly as he broke the kiss knowing he would try to move away. "Don't go. Please. I can't give you what you want, but please don't leave tonight."
Olivia stared up at the ceiling as her head continued to pound.
He'd stayed and they'd slept. He hadn't tried to do anything else; he hadn't kissed her again. She was annoyed at first and horny, but in the very bright light of day, she was glad she hadn't.
She'd spend the last four months convincing herself she was better off without him. It would have been a colossal mistake to jump into bed with him again as if they'd merely been apart for a few days and not divorced for four months.
"Are you hungry?" his voice rang out from the doorway startling her slightly from her reminiscence.
She turned to see him standing in his boxers and undershirt with a tray laden with orange juice, toast, eggs, bacon and green for her, coffee for him.
She nodded and sat up in bed. He placed the bed tray over her legs and perched on the edge of the bed beside her. He picked up the glass of orange juice and two small blue pills handing them to her.
"I figured you'd probably need these."
Olivia smiled gratefully and greedily took the pills and juice from his hand.
They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, the scrapes of forks and knives the only sounds filling their once comfortable space.
"Thank you for this," Olivia said not looking up at him. "And, I'm sorry about last night, I shouldn't have—I'm just sorry."
Fitz's fork paused on the way to his mouth. He shrugged, but she didn't see, before he spoke. "You were drunk."
"I wasn't that drunk."
"You weren't sober."
"True. Thank you for staying. You didn't have to do that either."
"You asked me to stay."
"So why wouldn't I? I love you."
"Don't do this. Can we not do this? Let's just enjoy our breakfast and go to this tennis game."
Fitz set his fork down and it rattled against the bone china plate. "I love you. I don't care if you don't like hearing it. I don't care that you'd rather not hear it. It's the truth and it always will be."
"You and I are through, Fitz. It's over. We gave it our best shot."
"We did not give it our best shot. You gave up. You gave up on us as soon as things got a little hard."
Olivia moved the tray from between them so she could put some distance between them. As soon as she did, however, Fitz moved with her, crowding her space.
"I tried! I tried to make it work. Tried to look past you not coming home some nights. Tried to forgive you for sleeping with Amanda. I was willing to let some shrink mess around in our lives and try to fix us. Try to fix what you broke."
"You stopped talking to me! You stopped being in this marriage."
"So that made it okay to screw someone else?" Olivia yelled.
"No, it didn't. I made a mistake. I know that. I tried to make it right, I tried to earn your trust, but you were so unwilling to give a little. You shut me out, Liv."
"What did you expect me to do? Run back into your arms? I was a fool to think a relationship that started with infidelity would find a 'happily ever after.' I was a fool to think I would somehow be the exception not the rule."
A loud knock at the front door echoed through the house. Olivia started to turn and make her way towards the door when Fitz caught her elbow, halting her exit.
"This isn't over," he leaned over and said softly into her ear, his voice deceptively calm. "We will talk about this, you and I."
Olivia turned to look at him, sadness radiating through her entire being. "I'm done going round and round with you about this, Fitz. Just let it go please."
"You're asking me to do something I just can't do.
Every time she was around Fitz she felt like Sisyphus. No matter how hard she tried, every attempt at getting this man out of her mind and heart was futile.
Olivia crossed the open floor space and answered the door to find a smirking Jerry on the other side.
"Good, you're still here. I was worried you'd bailed on me and left without saying goodbye."
"I'd never do that to you, Jerry."
"Well, you sort of missed brunch, so I just assumed, but there's always still tennis."
Olivia's stomach roiled at the thought of running around the court in the late August heat, but she put on the best smile that she could muster. "Can't wait."
Jerry cocked his head to the side. "You're a terrible liar and if you feel anything like I feel this morning, you'd rather sit and watch than participate. You should see Karen; she's in worse shape than either of us. Mom was furious with her last night, but what could you expect?"
"Karen got drunk?"
"Karen got beyond drunk," Jerry replied stepping into the house, sniffing at the air like a hound. "Is there still bacon left?"
Olivia laughed and shrugged. "Check the kitchen, Jer."
Jerry took off across the house and stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when he saw his father.
Fitz gave a small smile a nodded at a plate at the end of the counter. "Plenty of bacon left. You want some eggs? I can fix you some if you'd like."
Jerry shook his head. "I thought you'd left."
"No. Your mother invited me for the weekend. So here I am."
"Yes," Fitz responded with a tone and finality that made Jerry leery to say anything more.
Jerry nodded awkwardly, but sat down at the breakfast bar unwilling to let good food go to waste.