"I don't know what you want me to say," my voice was strained, weary. It's been a long time since I heard myself sound this way. I kept my gaze downcast so that she wouldn't see the pain in my eyes. Of course, it hurt to see her show up to the WHCD with Jake, her fiancé. No matter how much I tried to prepare myself for that moment, the acute sharpness of the heartbreak still resonated. I was a seasoned politician though, so I smiled, shook their hands and welcomed them as I politely as I welcomed many other guests.

I reminded myself that she returned because her father was dying. That's it. That's all.

I steered clear of them all evening. I weathered nervous looks from Cyrus, Mellie, Andrew and even Karen, my date for the evening. I knew for the most part they were all afraid of what her appearance would do to me; whether the six months of therapy healing techniques would suddenly be undone and I would revert back to the destructive version of myself. I was determined to make them, especially Karen, proud of me. I could do this. I could do this.

And then she asked for a moment alone. Why did she have to do that? Why couldn't she have just left with her soon-to-be husband and allowed me to go back to my prison? It would have been better for everyone, wouldn't it?

After exchanging superficial civilities that really didn't address how either of us were feeling, we embarked on several minutes of coded silence. I stood with a wide gulf between us waiting for her to respond.

"I…I…."

As usual she had difficulty expressing herself to me. I always found that odd. I was the person she claimed to be in love with but she could never communicate her feelings to me. Why could she tell everyone else what she was feeling but never tell me? I forced myself to dismiss the thought and concentrate on the present. In the past I would try to infer what she meant to say; I would look into her eyes and somehow I would know but apparently the truth and what I convinced my mind to believe were two entirely different things.

It appeared she changed her mind on what she originally wanted to say. "You're divorced," she now said in a low voice but I could still hear the shock of the revelation. It was understandable; I had been threatening, promising to divorce Mellie for five years and let everyone, including her, talk me out of it.

"Yes, one month now." It seemed as though she recently found out which didn't make sense as it had been the main headline in every newspaper, magazine, telecast and social media site for months. Maybe she had purposely kept herself secluded from any news related to me.

I could have told her that Mellie was happy with Andrew and they had a plan to announce their relationship after a respectable period of time. But then I knew she would recognize it as the plan she created for us so long ago. I didn't have the energy to entertain all those memories. What would be the point of it anyway?

I took a seat on the garden bench and waited patiently as more silence ensued. I refrained from looking her directly in the eye, thinking perhaps it would put less pressure on her. We needed to get this conversation done and over with.

She didn't sit next to me and somehow I was relieved. Did I change that much? How could I not want to be as close to her as possible? It was a tricky thing to want something so bad but force your mind to reflect on the reality of permanent consequences over temporary benefits. I didn't want to fall backward again. I had worked hard to come out of my hole of misery. I wanted to move forward. I needed to move forward for my own sanity.

I could tell she was struggling to find her words but eventually they poured out. "I want to know why?...Why aren't you angry at me? Why have you accepted this…..this life!...Why didn't you come looking for me?" Her tone was indignant but desperate. I knew it embarrassed her to say so much. She rarely let me see the vulnerable side to her; she kept it well hidden behind. She always wanted to be so strong, confident and bold. I wish she would have believed me when I told her I adored all parts of who she was; every flaw and every achievement. But she never did.

I couldn't contain my look of disbelief. She wanted me to be angry. She wanted me to chase after her. She wanted me to drag her back here. What was this, a twisted game she played to test my love for her?

I felt a headache coming on. I was frustrated. I thought I had done the right thing. I heard her when she told me she didn't need protecting; she didn't need a hero. I heard everything and I understood it. I understood that my place in her life never required such grandiose gestures of salvation and any attempt to display them would be rejected by her anyway. She wanted to save herself. And I did not interfere with that.

Now I was being chastised for not coming to her rescue. But how do you rescue someone from a life they've chosen to secure their happiness only to forcefully bring them back to a life of heartache? I shook my head as doubt over my own actions or lack thereof started to take over. Would things have been different had I looked for her, forced her to come back? I seemed to never do what she wanted me to do and she was never willing to tell me exactly what she wanted. So much confusion and misdirection; a lack of communication, expended energy with nothing accomplished.

I finally stood up and looked at her. Did she always look this small and fragile or was it my skewed perception? She should be happy now; she could have a life and no longer have to hide a relationship in the shadows under the looming threat of exposure. Why wasn't she happy? Even from the wide berth of distance between us I could see her eyes brimming with tears ready to fall at any moment. She thought me indifferent; that I no longer loved her; that I no longer cared. She was so wrong; my love was never that shallow. I loved her now as much as ever; I loved her enough to let her go.

I took a deep breath, wanting to choose my words carefully. "Li….Olivia," I started and then cleared my throat. She was no longer my "Livvy"; I didn't think I had the right to call her that anymore. Her eyes widened at my correction, she recognized my refusal to use the endearment.

I didn't address it. I just continued speaking, "Everything you said….that was me when you first left, seven months ago. I was angry and I didn't want to accept it. I was…." I stopped short because I didn't want to discuss who I was back then. She didn't need to know that. "But what have you been begging me to do for years?"

She looked away as if she didn't want to face the answer.

"You asked me over and over to let you go. And I did. I let you go. I wanted you to be free of all this...of me and all the burdens that came with my life. I was always your 'damsel in distress' needing, waiting on you to save me, making you sacrifice pieces of yourself to keep me here. I couldn't do that to you anymore. I wanted you to be happy….You don't realize how hard it was for me to see that dead look in your eyes, knowing I was the cause. To hear you speak of unfulfilled promises, broken dreams and sleepless nights, knowing it was all because of me. It was selfish to keep you tied to me. I felt like I was destroying you…..I had to…." My own voice was breaking from the emotions of admitting I failed her in this relationship.

I was determined to get it all said. "I had to let you go. I didn't treat you the way you deserved. I failed you….I loved you and I had to let you go."

Tears were burning my eyes; I could barely see. This was our goodbye. It had been delayed for seven months but it was happening now. It was a good time for it; I wouldn't have accepted it before. I would've fought her on it; I would've made her feel guilty for leaving me and she would've caved to please me. We had done that dance before; it was a horrible cyclical process that in the end still left us saddened and no closer to reaching what had been our goal.

I gave her a fleeting smile, the one that told her everything was going to be alright.

I knew there was more she wanted to say but I also knew she wouldn't say it; that was her way.

I turned and started to walk away. I didn't get a few steps before I heard Jake's voice behind me saying, "Olivia, there you are."

I didn't turn around. The Secret Service fell in line with my step and we continued to walk to the car.

I knew Jake heard our entire conversation and was likely waiting in the wings for the opportune moment to show himself. Jake was still an asshole but I couldn't blame him for loving her and giving her everything I couldn't.

It had already been arranged for Karen and Teddy to spend the weekend with Mellie so I sat in the back of the car alone; reprimanded by my thoughts. I was being taken back into that large foreboding house; back into the life I shaped for myself; back into my own world. The sacrifices people made to put me here, keep me here were great; too high to pay. The least I could do was set them free and serve out my sentence alone. It was penance for the greatness I sought to achieve.

(A/N: I applaud any of you who endured this one-shot. It kept rolling around in my head and I had to get it out. As I previously warned, I know most of you didn't like it and it was completely different from what others have written about what happened after the finale. But this is just my version. Anyway, now I can get back to my updates, edits and reviews. Thanks for entertaining my rambling thoughts again.)