As he drove up the cobbled path toward the driveway, he took a moment to take in the sight—the mountain range just behind the house, the grass that was somehow greener than he remembered it, and then there was the house itself. This was meant to be his dream—their dream—but the dream had long since faded away.

"How long will you be, sir?" His assigned Secret Service agent, Tom, asked, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"A few hours, at most. You're welcome to use the guesthouse."

Tom shook his head, pulling out a book. "I'm okay here for now. Thank you, sir."

Fitzgerald Grant III turned off the ignition and stepped out of his car, closing the door behind him. It was a warm evening for Vermont. Fitz had expected to be assaulted by the cold air when leaving the warmth of his car, but it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Certainly not as bad as previous times. Now that he was no longer the leader of the free world, this was a frequent stop. Although the person who he had hoped to share this house with was far gone from his life, the house itself had become something of a safe haven for him—it was in a quiet, secluded area and not many people knew of its existence.

When he entered the house, his attention first went to the flicker of a fire burning in the fireplace. As he walked further in, he could hear humming coming from the kitchen—someone was cooking. It didn't register in his mind who that person could possibly be. All he knew was that an intruder was in his house, infringing on his space. He rushed toward the kitchen with his phone out, ready to call the police and give the person a piece of his mind, but he stopped abruptly, nearly dropping his phone when he realized that the 'intruder' was Olivia Pope. As he watched her pour something from a bowl into a glass dish, then lean over to put it into the second oven, he was overwhelmed by the scene. Fitz briefly allowed himself to get lost in the dream—him finding Olivia making dinner after he came home for the day; surprising her with flowers and a kiss on the cheek; Karen, Jerry, and Teddy upstairs, playing with their younger brother or sister. Even after four years of not speaking or seeing each other, she still had a hold on him.

'This is how it could have been,' he thought. 'This is how it should have been.'

Fitz was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice when Olivia turned around. When he finally emerged from the thoughts in his head, they locked eyes. He was still reeling from thinking of the possibilities and he froze in his place, just as she had frozen in hers. After a few seconds of staring, Olivia managed to gather herself.

"Hi," she said tentatively.

Her voice brought him back to reality. And as much as he wanted to go to her and kiss her enough to make up for all the time they had lost, he knew that wasn't an option because once he waded through his love for this woman, he was still unbelievably angry with her.

"What are you doing here?" Fitz asked her. He could have caused a snowstorm with the tone of his voice.

"You never changed the locks."

"You didn't answer my question. There's a fire burning and you're cooking, so clearly you've made yourself comfortable. I want to know why you are in my house. I think you at least owe me that much."

Olivia visibly flinched when he said 'my house,' Fitz had been trying to hurt her with that word pairing, but seeing a reaction, however small, didn't make him feel any better.

She looked down, refusing to hold his gaze. "I can leave," she eventually said. "There's chicken and vegetables in the oven, but you can have it. Just take it out after 15 minutes."

"I don't want the damn food, Olivia!" He yelled. She couldn't just pop back up into his life, then dictate when she would leave—not again.

"What do you want?" She asked, looking up at him. "If I had known you were going to be here, I wouldn't have come."

Fitz had a resigned look on his face. When he spoke, his voice was laced with pain. "You left, Olivia. We were going to be together and you left."

"Don't make it sound so simple. You kept saying you were going to get a divorce and you never did. Your marriage was a pretty big barrier to us being together, Fitz. If you really wanted to get a divorce, you would have done it regardless of whether or not I wanted to be with you." She somehow managed to sound detached while speaking these words.

"Did you want to be with me? Did you ever even love me?" He had always been so secure in his love for her, but felt less certain about her love for him.

She looked as if he had slapped her across the face. Detachment was no longer an option. "Did you really just ask me that?"

"I want an answer."

"I really don't think this is a good time to get into this."

"Oh, and when would be a good time then, Olivia? Another four years from now?"

"You clearly don't want to talk. You just want to be angry. And you can do that if I'm not here, so I'm leaving." She began to walk past him, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Just tell me one thing. Was this not enough for you? Was I not enough for you?"

She looked like she was about to protest, but softened when she looked up into his eyes. "You were more than enough, Fitz."

He let her go and took a step back. Now, instead of feeling angry, he just felt sad. "We would have been so good together, Livvie." He allowed himself a brief wistful smile, but as soon as it appeared on his face, it was gone. "I'm going to take a walk. I want you out by the time I get back."

Thanks for reading! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like to read more. :)