Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Why do you guys always have to fight?"

Oliver and Grace turned their attention across the dinner table to their fifteen-year-old daughter. With apologetic expressions, they put their personal quarrel on hold and turned back to their suppers. Annie was right, they were always fighting. It hadn't started this way. For the first couple of years there was seldom a harsh word said between them. Naturally, they had their tiffs but nothing earth-shattering. As time went on, arguments grew louder and then more frequent. More often than not the topics were silly. Right now for instance. They were arguing over plans to redo the master bathroom. Grace wanted the new tiles to be one color, Oliver another. To Annie, it was just another excuse to shout. For the frequency of these matches, they must find some twisted enjoyment in it.

However, this was not the case. Oliver couldn't stand it. He argued with nearly everybody else in the world, he didn't want to with Grace. Yet, it continued to happen. For whatever reason these days, a lot of her habits, opinions, or preferences got on his last nerve.

Grace found herself feeling similar annoyances. She figured this all started after their first big fight. What a horrible day that was. During a meeting with an important associate, Grace had pointed out an error in Oliver's plans. Usually, he welcomed his wife's opinion — this was not one of those times. Perhaps it was because he had spent the entire before perfecting them rather than sleeping. The minute the associates left the meeting, Oliver exploded. Though Grace had seen this rage many times before, it was never directed at her. Not at this velocity. Now that it was in her direction, she did not take it well. That's not to say she crumbled and begged for his forgiveness. Oh no, she got even. Never had he imagined her volume could match his. Plus, she had an advantage: While his voice was much lower, she could deafen him with a screech. Since then, their marriage hadn't seemed the same. Grace didn't feel respected — after all, the words 'your opinion doesn't matter' had flown from his lips. Oliver, too, felt less respect. Only in the ways he was treated.

Neither of them comprehended the fact that they never actually worked out their problems that day. After an afternoon of screaming and slamming doors, they fell into bed without as much as an 'I'm sorry' or hint of resolution. By that point they were tired of fighting and intimacy was the only way to put the matter aside without having to admit one or both of them were wrong.

This quickly became their way of handling every argument (or at least the majority). Any joy had gone from the act, and even worse, the love. That's not to say they didn't love each other. The love just wasn't the same as it once was. Now there was no special way to express it. The mere words became routine and devoid of sentiment.

Annie hated seeing her parents drifting apart. She felt helpless against it. Whenever she asked them if there was anything she could do she was told not to worry and that they would work things out eventually. Five months had passed since the first time she'd heard it. Over a year since the arguments began. Eventually seemed to become more and more out of reach.

Oliver and Grace avoided each other as much as possible after dinner. They didn't want to bicker for Annie's sake but neither of them trusted themselves to remain friendly in the other's company. It was getting to the point where they couldn't control themselves. Even in business meetings, they could be found arguing. For all intents and purposes, they'd forgotten how to be civil to one another.

As usual, later that night the argument was forgotten the moment the door shut. For these minor things, they'd made an unspoken agreement to take turns giving in before falling asleep. Tonight, it was Grace's turn to win. Yellow tiles it was. This isn't to say the loser didn't have their annoyance, but it was no longer a debate.

The next morning, the two woke up with Annie's comment at dinner ringing in their ears. Guilt ran rampant. They came to an agreement not to argue that day. At first, they were able to stick to it. Annie was so pleased to have her parents back at breakfast. It almost felt like old times. Oliver and Grace were cheerful and smiling and the conversation was pleasant. Annie was tempted to fake sick to stay home from school to spend time with them...

When she came home that afternoon, she wished she'd never left. Whatever had happened, it was bad. This was far more than one of their silly debates. Grace was in tears (something she usually avoided during a fight) and the vein in Oliver's neck was throbbing. Even the staff looked shaken. Apparently, it was similar to their first big fight. Grace had stated her opinion on a business matter and Oliver did not agree. This lead to him telling her to keep her mouth shut and keep her mind on her own job.

Oliver hadn't intended to snap the way he had. With so much on his plate recently, he didn't have time to second-guess any decisions. Somehow though, he didn't feel all that bad about his reaction. Her tears angered him more than anything. It was almost as if she was doing it with the intent of making him feel guilty. Of course she wasn't. And deep down he knew it, but sometimes it felt good to explode.

"What the heck happened?" Annie asked with bitterness in her voice, dropping her school bag to the floor. "Everything was fine this morning."

Grace glanced at Annie, not wanting to expose her falling tears even though they were already evident. With a shake of her head and no response, she turned and ran up the stairs. It wasn't fair to drag Annie into this any further. She knew how hard these fights were for her, and with her present emotions, she didn't trust she wouldn't say something to make matters worse.

"What did you do to her?" Annie then asked in accusation.

"I can see whose side you're on." Oliver quipped.

"How can I choose a side if I don't even know what you're fighting about? I just know Mom doesn't cry unless she's really upset."

"She was-"

"'The one who started the blasted fight' — I know."

Oliver's brow furrowed. "Enough of this. Go to your room and work on your schoolwork until dinner is called."

"Fine," she said, walking back to where she dropped her bag. After picking it up, she hurried upstairs.

What was happening to her family? This was the question on Annie's mind as she sat in her room. Homework wasn't going to be done with so much on her mind. She never expected being part of a family to consist of constant happiness. She herself had more than a few arguments with each parent, but this was ridiculous. A pencil could roll off the desk and Oliver would figure out how to blame Grace. Grace would then list off every reason why it wasn't her fault and cleverly rid herself of any blame. More often than not, Annie found both at fault. When a fault was wholly one or the other, she knew which one was telling the truth. While she knew next to nothing about today's fight, she already sensed it was Oliver's doing. What was next, she then wondered.

Dinner came and Annie found herself alone at the table. While this wasn't a first, eating alone didn't happen often, therefore she knew this fight would go on through tomorrow. Most likely Grace was avoiding Oliver and vice versa. Worry grew when Drake informed her that Oliver had gone out for the evening. This bit of information was unsettling. If he went out past 4, he told everyone. Typically, evening outings were with the whole family.

Much to her relief, Oliver returned a couple of hours later. Her concern caused her to run to him once she'd heard the car rumble up the driveway. There was no doubt he'd been drinking. He wasn't so much tipsy, rather stoic.

"Where's your mother?" he asked upon his entrance.

"I don't know..." Annie answered. The truth was she knew Grace hadn't left her room since the afternoon. She didn't want Oliver finding her while he smelled of liquor. The last thing this argument needed was the addition of alcohol. She thought fast. "Before you go and find her, could you please help me with some homework?"

"Should have been done hours ago."

"I know, but no one has been here to help me with my arithmetic."

"You've never had much trouble before."

"I'm having trouble now. I can't show up to school tomorrow without my equations done."

Running a hand down his face, Oliver replied, "All right, but let's not make a night of it."

Annie rushed to her room and hid her already completed math homework and grabbed her textbook. She stalled for as long as she could, hoping Oliver would sober up. It wasn't clear if he was drunk, but she didn't want to take any chances. Once she saw Oliver's frustration with the problems an hour and a half later, Annie let up. As far as Oliver was concerned, she miraculously understood the questions. Before he left, he asked again if she knew where Grace was, and again Annie said no. His first guess was the bedroom. He went down the hall, ready to put the afternoon behind them. A couple glasses of scotch really did the trick.

Grace was indeed in the bedroom when he arrived. She was laying down on the bed with a blank expression on her face.

"Grace?" he said as he entered.

Snapping out of deep thought, she replied in a monotone. "Hello."

"Wondering where I was?" he asked in a somewhat taunting tone.

"Not really."

"Oh," he said, surprised. "I was at the bar."

"Sounds fun." The blank expression made a reappearance as she broke eye contact.

"And you don't care that I was gone?"

"Why should I? Any time we see each other we're at each other's throats."

"We're just going through a lull."

"A lull?" she said as she sat up. "Oliver, a lull is when we barely say a word to each other and when life has become mundane and boring. We have a serious problem here. For some reason we're fighting, and we need to do something about it before our family completely falls apart."

"Oh, come on, Grace. You're being melodramatic. So we're fighting... we'll get bored of it eventually."

"I can't believe you're not more concerned about this. We aren't playing a game. I can't speak for you but I hate arguing. I can't go on like this."

He now moved closer, eventually reaching the bed. Sitting down beside her, he took her hand and began kissing her neck. "Then let's forget about today."

Grace remained still for a few seconds as he continued caressing her neck and cheek with his lips. Then, she slid away from him and stood up. "You know something? I don't enjoy this anymore."

Aggravated, Oliver asked, "What's gotten into you tonight?"

"Some sense, apparently. Can't you see that our marriage is on the line?"

"You're still being dramatic."

"Damn it, Oliver. I'm not being dramatic. Listen to me. We need to work this is out. Our fights haven't stopped. They've gotten bigger and more frequent. The more I think about it, the more I realize we resolved a single argument. The minute we're alone we pretend to put it behind us. Obviously, the bitterness still lingers which is why we find more reasons to quarrel."

Hearing her reasoning, Oliver knew there was some truth to her words. However, there was no way he was going to give her the satisfaction of being right at this moment. "You're over thinking this."

"All right, so you're completely fine with the yelling and screaming and crying? You're fine with going back and forth 'winning' arguments after sex that no longer means anything?"

"I'm not saying I like how things have been. I'm saying that it won't go on forever."

Grace stared at him, appalled by the continued lack of worriment. A few more seconds passed. Then shaking her head, she said, "You're right, it's not going to go on forever."

Turning away from him, she strode to the door. Just before she reached for the knob, Oliver rose to his feet. "Wait a minute, where are you going?"

"We can't fight if I'm not here." Opening then slamming the door behind her, she was gone.

"Grace!" he called after. Half expecting her to be waiting for him outside the door for him to come running after her, he sat and waited. When a minute passed, he felt a twinge. He convinced himself that she was being stubborn, so he slowly walked to the door. When he opened it, Grace was nowhere in sight. His breath halted at this realization. "She wouldn't..." he said aloud.

"Grace!" He called again as he ran down the hall and down the stairs. At the bottom, she still wasn't to be seen. He went for the door. Once it was opened, he saw the DuPont leaving the gate. There was no use in trying to catch her with this much of a head start.

Oliver slumped against the door frame. What had he done? That was his first thought. His second was innocence. He merely tried to move past the argument. Trying to work it out would have been no good as his words from earlier hadn't changed. Eventually, he concluded that she would be home sooner than later, she had no luggage with her. What's more, she would never leave Annie. So what was he afraid of? This was only another dramatic display.

Chapter Text

Now it was Grace's turn to end up in a bar. Truth be told, she'd never been in one by herself. Barely with other people. Why she had wandered here was beyond her, aside from the fact that she needed nothing more than a large drink. One drink turned into two, and two turned into four. The bartender seemed concerned by her state, so he watered down her drinks immensely. She didn't notice and kept ordering. What was her hurry? She wondered. She didn't know where she was going to sleep tonight. One thing was certain. She wouldn't be sleeping at home.

A man had been watching her all night. He wasn't much older than her. He'd had a couple of drinks himself. She looked familiar, but in his fog, he couldn't pinpoint where he might have seen her. The nagging curiosity eventually gave him the courage to approach her. He started with a casual 'hello', and then asked if she wanted to move away from the bar and join him at his table. Against her better judgment, she agreed.

Grace was so intoxicated she wasn't aware of what she was saying to this man. Unfortunately, she was telling him all he needed to know about her vulnerable state of mind. She poured out her soul as he bought her two more drinks. She told him about her troubles with her husband and about their latest fight. The man listened, which Grace decided was a Godsend. She couldn't vent like this to anyone at home. Oliver was the sole subject of her venting. It wasn't appropriate to discuss these matters with Annie and she had to be careful with what she said to the staff. Friends outside the house were scarce. The wives of Oliver's peers wanted little to do with her given her past social standing. Even after five years of marriage, they couldn't accept the fact that she was no longer Oliver's secretary. Well, at least not primarily. She still worked for him, of course. It was the best way to spend time with him, and she did enjoy working. Being married gave her flexibility though, so she wasn't tied to him as she had been on his payroll.

By last call and closing, Grace was barely able to walk. While she hadn't drunk any hard liquor, the amount of wine she consumed had no choice but to go to her head. Unsure of where she was sleeping that night, she let the stranger, whose name she learned was Victor, recommend a hotel.

Victor was a few years older than Grace, but quite a few years younger than Oliver. He had thin dark hair that covered his entire head. He dressed smartly and had a certain charm about him that made Grace feel safe in his presence. When he asked her if she wanted to stay with him at his apartment, she couldn't help but say no.

Had she been of sound mind, she would have realized the incredible risk she was taking. She would have realized that Victor wasn't offering a couch for her to sleep on, but rather to share his bed. Had she been of sound mind, she would have left the minute she realized what he meant. Had she been of sound mind, she wouldn't have taken him up on any further suggestions...

Lying awake the next morning, she tried to process all she had done. Cheating on Oliver was never her intention when she left the house. She was angry at him, and he had been quite nasty… but did he deserve this? Should anyone find out, he'd be a mockery. At the same time, she had to admit it was nice to have a passionate encounter with someone that wasn't prefaced with an altercation. It didn't have the same intimacy as she had in the past with Oliver. It was different. It didn't feel like a routine. It was spontaneous and caring... a care she deeply missed from Oliver. Gone were those days. Would they ever return? She didn't know. If he were to find out about Victor, she needn't worry about sharing a bed with him again. This thought made her shudder. Despite how terrible things were between them, she still loved Oliver. She was angry. What happened with Victor wasn't genuine... was it? No, it couldn't have been. His concern for her was attractive, but in a sober light, she knew drunken care wasn't enough. She knew it was time to go home and try her hardest to forget the affair.

After parting ways with Victor, apologizing and explaining a thousand times over for her actions, she went home to Oliver. Maybe today he would want to work things out. Given what she had done, this would be the day he had a change of heart, causing her guilt to become unbearable.

When she got home, however, she saw Oliver had no interest. She found him in his office and he flat out ignored her. She tried to talk to him, but he didn't care for anything she had to say. Her guilt dimmed with this. She had been gone all night. Shouldn't he be more concerned? Not that she wanted an interrogation. She was nervous that she would blurt out what happened to him. With his temper, there was no predicting what his reaction might be.

A week went on. Oliver and Grace barely uttered a word to each other. Work for Grace had become strictly typing and taking phone calls, only speaking to Oliver when absolutely necessary. At night they would exchange awkward and sometimes angry glances before falling asleep. Grace's mind kept wandering to Victor. She hadn't any intentions contacting him again, but by the way Oliver was ignoring her, she was tempted. Even if it was for a simple conversation. The quiet was overbearing.

"We can't go on like this," she finally said one night as they lied awake in bed.

Nothing was said in response.

"I mean it, Oliver. This is the last time I'm going to try and talk to you about this. Make your choice. I could have easily not come home last week but I did. Quite frankly, I wish I hadn't."

"You don't mean a word of this," he said, uninterested.

"You think so?" Standing up, she went for the closet and reached for a small luggage bag. Walking back over to the bed, she set it down and then returned to the closet and pulled out whatever pieces of clothing that met her grasp first.

Oliver sat up and watched for a minute. He then said, "This is-"

"'Just one of my dramatic displays'." She finished.

"Since we're both in agreement, put the bag away and come back to bed."

Looking up at him for the first time since she had left his side, she looked him straight in the eye. Without any emotion, in a strong voice, she said, "No."

"Come on, Grace, cave already. This has gone on long enough."

"It has," she said as she hung the sloppily crammed bag over her shoulder. "That's why I'm leaving. I'm not coming back this time. If you want to talk to me, come and find me. If I come by it's only to see Annie."

Taking charge now and sitting over the edge of the bed with his feet on the floor, Oliver warned, "If you leave, you're not to see Annie."

"You can't stop me. You may have been the first to adopt her, but my name is also on the certificate. She's just as much my daughter as she is yours. Believe me, I'd be taking her if I thought for a moment it was fair to her."

"I would have you arrested."

"Oh yes," she said sarcastically. "Police. Your answer to everything. Look, I don't know what your problem is anymore. I'm willing to admit my own faults, but nothing is going to be worked out unless we work together. I don't want to leave, but before I completely explode I must."

Oliver laughed. "I've seen you explode, it's nothing."

Already feeling her anger brewing inside her, Grace replied, "You think you have but you haven't. Trust me, you haven't."

"I think this is all another bluff."

"Do you really want to try me?"

"Why not? You're picking a fight anyway."

Grace was about to go off, but then she realized that would do nothing but give Oliver vindication. This was no time to give him what he wanted. Instead, she threw her bag clear across the room, walked over to the bed, grabbed her pillow, and moved to the window seat. It wasn't the most comfortable sleeping location, but it would do. As much as she wanted to leave, at least to another room, she decided to stay put. Seeing her leave would only boost Oliver's ego.

"I knew you didn't have it in you," he mocked.

Only giving him a glance, Grace lightly shook her head as she reclined against her pillow. Several seconds passed, and Oliver was laying down again himself. Grace's mind was racing. This game needed to end one way or another, but her energy was drained for the night. So much more needed to be said to him, but she decided to keep her mouth shut. However, one phrase managed to slip through her lips...

"I hate you."

"What did you say?" Oliver asked, stirring up in a flash.

Looking over to him with a long expression, she shook her head again. "You heard me."

"Say it again."

She looked at him with cold eyes. "I hate you."

"Then I don't know what you're still doing here."

"I tried to leave."

"Your bag is right over there. I'm not stopping you." His tone was empty and bitter. How could she say such things? So they were fighting... was this really called for? Had she said it in an angry way, he would have brushed it off, but her tone couldn't be more serious.

"Believe me, if I trusted you to allow me to see our daughter I would have been gone long before this conversation."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"I've been serious this entire time. You're so quick to call me dramatic. Well, Mr. Warbucks, the truth is out. Your complete lack of concern about the state of our marriage and about me as a person has driven me to feel sick when I'm around you. I feel unsettled and unsure of what the next moment contains. I knew when we were married that there was going to be some baggage. I worked for you for ten years, after all, I knew your mannerisms. But I never expected you to be vindictive. You seem to enjoy fighting with me now. Every single time I try talking things out with you, you start your infinite games. I have had it." Normally, these sorts of statements would have caused every negative emotion inside her to spill out in sobs. However, her voice remained calm and, like Oliver, empty.

"I refuse to have all the blame put on me."

"I'm not putting all the blame on you. I'm willing to own up to my own faults. It's a two-way street. I'm beyond groveling. You need to meet me halfway."

"Are you saying we're getting a divorce?"

"What is the matter with you!?" she ended up yelling. "I ask you to meet me halfway and you jump to divorce. In what world is that a productive halfway point?"

"What's the matter? I figured since you hate me so much, you'd be relieved to hear this solution."

"Divorce is not a solution, it is surrendering. You cannot tell me that I haven't tried. You know, for a hard worker, you surely don't want to do any work in regard to our relationship."

"Relationships don't need work, relationships are what you look forward to after working."

"Please say you're telling a terrible joke."

"I'm not. I never would have gotten married had I thought this was going to happen. This is everything I wanted to avoid."

"Are you saying you regret marrying me?"

"Yes, I am."

Their back and forth had been going at a rapid pace, but with Oliver's last comment, the entire room went dead silent. The two were locked in a serious stare. Still, little emotion was shown, though Grace's eyes slowly began to shine with tears. She was ready to grab the bag she had thrown not ten minutes before and leave for good, but a sudden and shrill cry came from down the hall. Loathsome words and bitter emotions forgotten, Grace and Oliver switched to parent mode in an instant and rushed to their daughter's bedroom.

"Annie! What's the matter?" Grace panicked.

Annie was sitting up in bed with tears running down her cheeks. "I don't feel good."

"What's the matter?" Oliver asked.

"My stomach," she pointed as she continued to wail. "It hurts, Daddy, it really does!"

Sitting down beside Annie, Grace held her close and tried to soothe her. "Did you eat something bad?"

"I don't know."

"She ate the same as us, I think," Oliver said. "Unless you had some dessert?"

Annie shook her head. "No, I didn't."

Pulling away from Annie, Grace felt her forehead for a fever. She was warm, but nothing alarming. She was warm from being so worked up. "Do you think you'll make it through the night without a doctor? First thing tomorrow we'll have him come and check on you."

"No, Mom, it hurts!"

"If you need to see a doctor tonight, you'll have to go to the hospital."

"I don't care," she said. "It hurts."

Oliver looked at Grace to see if she had any objections. When he saw the terror she was trying to keep, he nodded. Though Annie was a teenager now, she was still small. Oliver picked her up and the three of them rushed downstairs to the car.

Chapter Text

The hospital was a nightmare for all of them. Annie's shrill cries pierced their hearts more than their ears. Neither of them knew if they were too absorbed in their own issues to notice warning signs from their daughter or if the illness was really this sudden. They remained in the room while the doctor asked Annie questions, but then they were pushed to the waiting room when it came time to do tests.

Grace and Oliver sat in silence as they watched nurses, doctors, and other patients go back and forth. Grace was ready to scream herself. Her energy was at its lowest level as she stared straight ahead down the hallway that led to Annie's room, absentmindedly wringing her hands. Oliver's eyes were in the same direction. He knew he had let her down. Seeing her in pain was worse than hearing Grace say 'I hate you' an hour and a half before. Right now, though, the fight was on indefinite hold. Pride needed to be pushed aside for Annie's sake, as well as both his and Grace's mental health.

After a great deal of time passed, Oliver reached to the side and took Grace's hand. She didn't glance in his direction, but after several seconds, he felt her cautiously squeeze his hand.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"No, I'm not okay. I can't remember the last time I've been okay."

"Let's not do this here. In terms of Annie, how are you?"

Her voice shook. "I'm scared."

"So am I."

Finally turning her head to look at her husband, Grace asked, "What do you think is wrong with her?"

"I haven't the faintest idea."

"We haven't been paying enough attention to her."

"I agree."

The two remained locked in a stare for several seconds. Oliver could see Grace's eyes filling with tears, which ended up being blinked back. Why did it take Annie being in the hospital for him to take a serious look at her?

"You look exhausted," he said.

"Exhausted is an understatement."

Slipping his hand free from hers, he moved up to guide her head to his shoulder. "Try and rest."

Relaxing into him — something she hadn't done in a long while — she said, "I won't be able to rest until Annie is well and home."

"That's why I said try."

"You should as well."

"I'll be fine."

Oliver and Grace went back to sitting in silence, Grace still resting her head against his arm. She tried closing her eyes, but sleep was impossible. Far too many thoughts were spinning around in her mind. Was Annie going to be okay? What was wrong? How long has she been in pain? Was it something she ate? Was it her appendix? That was the only thing that made sense, but she didn't lead on to any discomfort. Another thing, when she was telling the doctor where it hurt, she pointed to the middle of her stomach. The appendix was lower, she remembered from when a friend in second grade had to have the surgery.

Along with thoughts of Annie, Grace was still thinking about her fight with Oliver. She was so close to leaving. The only reason she was with him now was because of Annie. Before she didn't want to be within ten feet of him, now she was, more or less, cuddling with him? It was amazing how one event changes life in an instant. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe alone with Oliver. She'd meant it back at home when she said she hated him. More, she hated what he'd become. She couldn't handle his games. But right now, he was more like the Oliver she married five years ago. She expected there to be change in both of them over time, but not for the worse. Weren't they supposed to grow together rather than apart?

She thought about him saying he regretted marrying her. She was quick to think it had been said out of the heat of the moment, but how could she when even now she (silently) admitted her harsh words hadn't come from the present anger? The likelihood was that he meant it just as much. It wouldn't be surprising. In fact, it would explain a lot of his behaviors. By not working through their trials, he was given an excuse for divorce. He was clever. He might have known Grace would get tired and leave herself. Why was that man so against working things out? Rather, why did he have such a hard time admitting faults? She wasn't expecting all the blame to go to him - she had her fair share of responsibility. She too put off discussions, covering them with meaningless distractions or by surrendering.

A couple of hours passed before a nurse came out into the waiting room to collect Oliver and Grace. She led them back to Annie's room, where she was lying asleep.

"We ran the standard tests," the doctor said. "We couldn't find anything wrong. The only other thing we can do to check is an investigative surgery."

"Oh," Grace said. "Is there any way to avoid it?"

"It will depend on how Annie feels in the morning. During the tests, she didn't seem to be in as much pain as when she first arrived."

"Did you give her medicine to sleep?" Oliver asked.

"No, she fell asleep on her own. Our best assumption is that she had a severe case of gas pains. She wasn't pointing to her appendix which would be the biggest concern at her age. We're guessing the pain shifted as she was inconsistent."

Oliver raised his voice. "I'm not paying you to guess. I want to know what's wrong with my daughter!"

"Oliver, please," Grace hushed. "Are you quite confident, Doctor?"

"We won't be able to tell until morning. She seemed tired more than anything. How has her sleep pattern been? If she's fatigued, digesting food may become more difficult, therefore causing an upset"

Oliver and Grace glanced at each other, and then back at the doctor. "Fine..." Oliver answered. "At least, she hasn't complained."

"What time would you say she falls asleep?"

"She heads to her room between nine and ten, I think."

"You think?"

"We do work, you know." Oliver reminded.

"Once she's home," the doctor grumbled, "I suggest keeping a closer eye on her. It would be a shame to have to make another middle of the night trip."

"When can we bring her home?" Grace asked.

"I'd like to see how she is feeling when she wakes up. You two are free to go home. We'll call you and let you know her condition."

"Oh no," Grace protested. "There is no way we're leaving her by herself."

"I agree," Oliver said. "If all you're going to do is check on her in the morning, we can have someone come to the house."

"Quite frankly, Mr. and Mrs. Warbucks, I want to see what her status is when you two aren't around. Annie is old enough to stay by herself."

"What do you mean?" they said at the same time.

"As I said before, Annie seemed to calm down quite a bit when you two left the room."

The vein in Oliver's head began to make an appearance. "Are you implying that we made her ill?"

"No, I'm implying that she was never ill to begin with."

Unsure of how much more she could take tonight, Grace asked, "Why do you say that?"

"Even with gas, we should have been able to sense it. Often times, the stomach makes a number of noises when fighting pockets of air. Not always, but often enough. On the off chance we didn't sense it, that's why we want her here. Otherwise, unless she's swallowed something and it went undetected, there are no obvious answers."

"Are you sure you checked every possible scenario?"

"Everything down to the possibility of pregnancy. Even a miscarriage."

"Pregnancy?!" Oliver blasted. "She's a child! She hasn't even had a boy come to the house!"

"We don't suspect that's the case, however, we are obligated to run the test anyhow."

"Will never the cast if I have anything to say about it."

Wanting to get back to the matter at hand (even though she found Oliver's discourage amusing), Grace asked, "Why would she be faking sick?"

"Is there a test at school tomorrow that she might be unprepared for?"

"I-I don't know," she answered.

"She didn't say anything?"

"I don't know..."

The doctor glanced at the nurse as if they were silently trying to piece together the scenario. "Is she having trouble with friends? Or with teachers?"

"I don't think so," Oliver answered this time.

Unable to hold her tongue any longer, the nurse butted in. "Do you know anything about your daughter's life?"

"Certainly we do!" Grace reacted.

"It doesn't seem like you're aware of anything that happens outside the home..." the doctor said. "In fact, I think this solves the mystery of reasons she might be faking."

"Hey," Oliver said with a sneer. "We don't know for sure that she's faking. For all we know she's going to wake up any minute screaming in pain."

"Do you want her to wake up screaming in pain?"

"What kind of blasted question is that?" Oliver yelled. "I get the feeling you're insulting our family, and I won't stand for it any longer."

Daring to take a step closer, the doctor said, "You're getting awfully defensive, Mr. Warbucks."

"You're damn right I'm getting defensive. How dare you insinuate we neglect our daughter."

"Now, now, no one used the word neglect, that's your own wording."

"Now you listen here-"

"Oliver," Grace stepped in. "You're only making things worse."

Oliver whipped his head around and glared at his wife, ready to snap, but he knew if he yelled at her, the doctor would discover the rift between them. This guy was nosy enough and was already suspicious. Biting his tongue and taking a step back, Oliver soothed his voice. "Fine, Doctor. You win, but don't bother calling us in the morning. The minute the clock strikes seven we'll be back here and we won't budge until Annie is allowed to come home. Just know if anything happens to her while we're away - be it physical or emotional - I will see to it you are no longer employed." Turning around, taking Grace's hand, and pulling her to the door, he said, "Let's get out of here, Grace."

"Oliver, no," she near cried. "I refuse to leave Annie. I don't care if she's not a little kid, they can't make us leave."

Oliver halted. She was right, in a way. They wanted them to leave, and they were getting their wish by insulting them. Letting go of Grace's hand, Oliver strode back to the doctor and said, "We're taking an empty room. I don't care if I have to break my own arm to gain admittance, we are not leaving our child whether she's faking or not."

Intimidated by the deep and quiet seriousness in the billionaire's voice, the doctor caved, and let them to a vacant room with two beds. He warned though that should more patients come in they would have to go back to the waiting room. Oliver was still livid. How dare the pompous twit try and take authority over him. As long as Annie was fully intact, he would call the shots.

Chapter Text

Grace and Oliver settled down in the hospital room for the night. Figures, Grace thought. This was the one night in a long time that she wanted to sleep next to Oliver. Her fear died down a bit upon hearing nothing was immediately wrong... but now came confusion. Was Annie faking? It was quite possible. Annie was known to take matters into her own hands. But what would that matter be? The only thing that came to mind was the fighting — but she couldn't tell that to the doctor. What if Annie said something? If they were any other family, Annie would have been sent home and not be given a second thought. But, to hear that the Warbucks family is having issues, that would sell a handful of newspapers. Surely there would be some gain in tipping off the press. They had to be careful.

Grace didn't have to ask if Oliver was thinking the same thing. His reaction toward the doctor said it all. Oliver yelled at her plenty nowadays but never in such a fashion. Seeing that temper again (on someone else) made her feel a tad less hopeless. She didn't know what to think anymore. Only hours earlier, they were a step away from divorce, or separation at the least. Then later, both of their attitudes seemed to change. Grace couldn't remember the last time Oliver held her hand, nor could she remember the last time he spoke so gently to her. Whenever he did use the softer tone, it seemed to be used in a sneaky way, as if he had something to gain.

"Oliver?" Grace came to ask, hoping Oliver wasn't yet asleep.

"Yes?"

Hearing that he was nowhere near a doze, she turned to her side to face him. "What's going to happen when we go home?"

"What do you mean?"

"What's going to change? Something has to. If the doctor is right and Annie's faking, we have to take a serious look at why. Even if it has nothing to do with us, we need to stop being so focused on our own problems so we can take a look at our daughter's. None of this should have happened. While I'll be glad to know she isn't in any real physical pain, she's obviously hurting in one way or another."

"Like I said out in the waiting room, let's not do this here."

"I'm not looking to argue. Believe me, that's the last thing I want right now. I know we have a great deal that was left unsettled. Don't you think maybe this is the place to have a serious talk? Neither of us will be as inclined to yell and scream, and whether Annie is sick or not, wouldn't it be nice to know that some resolution is in the makes?"

Oliver was silent. A blank look came across his face from what Grace could see by the small lights that were left on.

"Oliver?"

He remained quiet for several more seconds, and then he said, "I meant what I said earlier."

Feeling a twinge in her stomach, Grace replied, "You did?"

"Maybe it came out harsher than I feel, but I meant every word about how relationships shouldn't need this much work. I never thought it would be as easy as reading a ticker tape, but I never expected any of this — not even half of it."

"Neither did I, but we're here now, and we have to make the best of the situation handed us. But Oliver, you have to understand that all relationships need lots of work, The work is constant as we'll change over the years. But the point is to change and grow together, not apart. It's not as though we married in our teens and are now living in regret. We were mad for each other in the beginning. I know I was mad for you long before then, and you said the feeling was mutual. What happened down the line that began this hostility?"

"If we knew, we wouldn't have a problem, would we?" His tone was bitter, almost monotone.

"Here you go again," Grace said, moving to lay on her back again.

Now Oliver was the one to turn to his side. "Why is it always me? I've put up with plenty of your moods."

"Your attitudes go beyond moods, sometimes. You don't want to take an honest look at anything. Every time I think we're getting somewhere in a conversation you pull back and grow stubborn."

"I don't have it in me," he said.

"I guarantee you, fighting takes up a lot more energy."

"I know how to argue just fine."

"Don't you think it's time to learn how to handle people differently? At least your wife? You don't treat Annie this way, how is it different?"

"She's a child, and she doesn't challenge me in the same ways as you."

Trying her hardest not to get worked up, she took a breath before continuing. "And how do I treat you?"

Oliver paused, searching for the right answer. The truth was he didn't know. He couldn't name the attitudes.

"Did you expect me to maintain the exact same demeanor I had when I was only working for you?"

"I don't know, all right?" He was tired and beginning to regret not working this out at a different time.

"No," she said. "It's not all right. I don't know what you want from me. I don't know why you're being so stubborn about talking things over. Had we both sat down and dealt with this long before now, we could have prevented most, if not everything. If you want to end our marriage and you think fighting is the best way to drive me away, please, just tell me. It won't be worse than this hell we're going through."

"I just want things how they were."

"How they were when? You need to be more specific."

"I want them how they were when we were first married. We had a wonderful time then. Every night we tucked Annie in together, then you and I would lock ourselves in our room and stay up half the night. Even those nights without any physical encounters. We were happy talking to each other or sitting quietly together. During the day we worked like machines, though sometimes found time for an interlude. What happened to those days? Suddenly we stopped tucking Annie in together, and now barely at all. Mealtimes are the times we most spend together as a family. You and I only lock doors if one is on the other side, and everything we do is in anger. I don't know why the fights started. I don't even know what we are fighting about half the time. It's hard to stop something when you don't know what the matter is at hand."

Grace had to think a moment before she responded. She had to admit she didn't know what they were fighting about most days, either. "This is good, Oliver."

"How is anything I said good?"

"Your saying it, in general, is what's good."

"Would you stop treating me like a child? I hate when you talk to me this way."

"I'm not treating you like a child."

Rolling his eyes at her defensiveness, he rolled to his other side to face away from her. "Forget it."

Taking a deep breath and fearing the loss of the at last solid conversation, she said, "I'm sorry."

Oliver looked over his shoulder. "What?"

"I said I'm sorry. I didn't mean to speak to you that way if I was. I'm not sure how to talk to you anymore."

Oliver sat up now. Maybe he would benefit from having this discussion after all. "Okay..." he breathed. "How did we go from a happy marriage to a miserable one?"

Grace half-smiled, sending up a prayer of thanks. "Well, some of what you listed was inevitable."

"What do you mean?"

"Reality is, Oliver, that marriages don't maintain the same feel as the first couple of years. We start to get used to our lives together, and some of the excitement is gone. That doesn't have to be a bad thing, though. To be honest, I never expected a lot of passion from marriage. I was looking forward to the comfortable bit. When we first were married, simply waking up beside you made me soar. I never imagined any of the thoughts or feelings you made me feel. I can't say our passion dulled too much... it just managed to turn into a negative force."

"I don't know what I expected from marriage, but I miss everything it used to be." He knew he was repeating himself, but he didn't know how else to word any of the thoughts going through his mind.

"I miss it, too. Maybe this is part of what triggered our arguments. Maybe we felt those early relationship sparks dying down and slipping into the familiar stages. Perhaps we weren't aware of what was happening, and it made us bitter. That bitterness in each of us made it easy to blame the other."

Oliver leaned his head back against the wall. "I guess that makes sense. Sort of... Everything happened so fast with us. We went from a business relationship to man and wife overnight — or not far from overnight."

"I know."

"Sometimes I wonder if we should have waited a while before the wedding."

"I've had the same thought myself." Their eyes met a moment, and the Grace continued. "Again, our passions got us into trouble, I think. Between our desires for each other and our need to fulfill Annie's wish of having a family, we married within the week and were on our way. We never had any serious talks about our future. I didn't know where I stood as far as my job went, and you didn't know how to act towards me whenever we weren't alone. On our first night back from our honeymoon, we spent half the night bickering over which room to take."

"I thought mine was the obvious choice," he said.

"Please, let's not get into that again. That discussion is long over with. My point is, we jumped into marriage headfirst. We look back upon the beginning and remember it being pure bliss, but we did have our issues. The difference was that we were both so scared of losing the other, that it gave us the will to work things out together. As we got settled into our lives, I think the fear of losing each other faded. On some level, we knew the other wouldn't leave. We no longer wanted to give in for the other, nor did we want to settle for a compromise. We wanted our own ways, and that's why we began to argue. Given our lack of heated arguments in the beginning caused some problems. You argued as if I were an associate, and I was standing up to you for the first time, in a matter of speaking."

"That's silly. There's no knowing who's going to leave anymore. If I recall, you packed your bag tonight, not to mention the other night when you completely disappeared."

Grace's breath caught in her throat. She'd nearly forgotten in the midst of tonight's drama that she held a secret that would end their marriage should it come out. There was no 'could' about it. Oliver would not handle this information well, nor would he even try to understand her reasoning and logic behind it. Not that any excuse justified her actions, but a little bit of understanding went a long way sometimes. Unfortunately, Oliver would be anything but understanding, and maybe he had the right. Trying to hide her derailed thoughts, she shook herself back into the present conversation. "Everything got so out of control that we created what we initially feared most."

Oliver shook his head. "This is all too much."

"I know it is..."

After taking a few breaths, Oliver had one more question. "What about Annie? How come we couldn't at least maintain our evening routines with her. We stopped going over her homework, we stopped our regular weekend outings, our family vacations now include her friends, and we don't even go to her room to say goodnight."

Grace hoped Annie wouldn't be brought into this again. A few seconds passed, and she then climbed out of her bed and walked over to Oliver's. She sat on the end and sighed. "Some of that was our fault. Our evening routine was messed up due to those nights we couldn't be in the same room. Eventually, we all got used to doing our own thing. The same goes for our weekend outings. As for the others... I'm afraid to say she's outgrown them, most likely. She doesn't need us to tuck her in. I think we may have stopped at an older age than most kids, but Annie is still a bit younger in some ways. We were fortunate with the time we got. Family vacations probably won't be so fun to her for a while. I'm sure a day will come when she's older, or maybe our issues were in part to that. It's likely she started bringing friends along to keep us on our best behaviors."

"But that isn't her job."

"No, it isn't. But you know Annie. She always takes other people's burdens upon herself."

Oliver nodded in resignation. "I regret not inviting her to my home sooner. I wish we got more time with her. I hate seeing her so grown up. And so suddenly. She's so much taller, and her hair isn't that raggedy mop it was a few years ago." He smiled at the memory of his young daughter before it faded again. "My stomach goes into a knot every day when she comes home from school. I'm always afraid she's going to tell me about a date she's planned or that she wants to leave us and live on her own."

"I don't think you have to worry about her moving out any time soon."

"What about boys?"

Grace shrugged. "The issue hasn't risen yet. It will someday, but think about it; have you ever heard any mention anything about wanting to date?"

"No," Oliver grumbled. "But I'm sure she will soon."

"Let's not skip ahead more than a day. You know that Annie is still catching up on what she missed as a child. I think the day it happens it will be a surprise for all of us. She's going to grow up sooner or later, and we have to accept it. Even when she does, she'll still be our Annie. Come on, wouldn't you love a grandchild running around?"

"Not for many, many, many more years."

Grace laughed a genuine laugh, which caused Oliver to smile sincerely as well.

"Look at us," he said. "We're having a real conversation."

Taking his hand, she replied, "And all it took was getting through some of the mess and putting any petty feelings aside."

"I guess it wasn't so hard…"

Grace's expression turned serious once again as she looked straight into his eyes. "Oliver… I don't really want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave, either."

"But how am I supposed to go on knowing you regret our marriage?"

"The same way I'll go on knowing that you hate me."

Throughout the latter part of their discussion, Grace was subconsciously moving closer to Oliver. She now became aware and halted. Looking down at his hands in hers, she said, "It's not you I hate. I hate the man that has to hide a grin when I finally cry. The man that thrives on every little mistake I make. The man who ignores me when something serious is going on. I hate the man who made a scene at my uncle's funeral because he was irritated with me and then proceeded to tell everybody in a way as if it were some sort of achievement. I hate the man who-"

"I get it."

"That isn't you, Oliver."

He was quiet a moment before he said, "Maybe it is."

"No, it's not. You never treated anyone this way. Why me? And why can't you tell me if there's something I've done that makes you act this way?"

"I don't know!"

"I need to know."

"I'm being honest, Grace. I don't recall you ever doing anything against me that merits any of the things you listed."

"If you're aware of them, why haven't you stopped?"

"I don't have an answer for you."

Grace stood, feeling a sudden need for distance. She walked across the room and looked at a plant someone left on a side table. A few moments passed before she was able to turn back. "There has to be some answer. Why do you get enjoyment from it?"

"I guess because it was fun at first."

"Fun?"

"Listen, you have to admit that it initially brought some excitement. Maybe it's that thing you mentioned about passion. It was a new kind for us, and though negative to start, the final outcome was pleasant."

"It may have been pleasant in a moment but look where it's got us. We never actually made up."

"Sure we did," he said.

"Making love is not a synonym for making up."

"Maybe not, but the way I figured was if we were able to do that, we weren't completely repulsed by each other."

"But I am repulsed," she said with a raised voice but lowered it when she heard the echo in the room. "What I mean is, it got to the point where I've stayed out of the room for as long as I could, hoping you would fall asleep first. There is nothing appealing to me anymore."

"Not even right now? I thought we were on good terms a few minutes ago?"

Taking a few steps closer to the bed again, she said, "Laughing a little bit doesn't make for good terms. Better, would be a more fitting word. Everything with Annie is about to push me over the edge. I can't handle one more thing."

"I don't know what to say to you. I told you all I know about why I would cause some arguments here and there, why it continued, I don't know. This is why I say all those things you mentioned are really me. Something, somewhere inside of me, makes me do and say those things to you. I don't know why, and I don't think I ever will. Quite frankly, I don't want to investigate it."

"Why not? If you do, maybe you would find ways not to."

"Because I can't handle it."

"Oliver… this isn't a business deal. This is our very lives. If we separate, we would not likely be in the same room together ever again."

"Of course we would. We have Annie to think about, and work of course."

Grace shook her head. "You don't honestly think I would continue working with you if we divorced, do you?"

"Well sure, the two have nothing in common."

"Yes, they do. I couldn't come into work every day knowing that I've gone from the woman of the house to an employee again."

"I'm not saying it would be easy at first, it would take some adjusting."

"I don't believe this." Not feeling like she could stand any more, she sat on the edge of her bed, facing the wall instead of Oliver.

"You're willing to do the work of divorce, but you're not willing to do the work to save our marriage."

"There are fewer emotions involved with divorce," he said, now sitting on the edge of his bed as well.

"Less? Are you being serious? You and I would be saying goodbye to each other, even if I did continue to work, which I wouldn't. We'd be watching the effect it has on Annie. We'd have to figure who takes Annie, which will no doubt be you given your social status. Then finally, there's the matter of the press. If we split, we will never hear the end of it. I'm sure all sympathy will be towards you. By the looks of everything, I'll be made out to be the tart who abandons her family. Now that I think about it, I can see how this would be the less emotional one for you."

Oliver hadn't thought of things this way. She did have a point, but at the same time, he couldn't imagine getting to the route of their issues. It scared him. He was scared to find things out about himself, and he was scared to find things out about her. He also knew that staying together would be no more help to Annie than separating. His parents fought in similar ways as he and Grace, and he and his brother were miserable. After he died, he had nothing left to keep him at home. What if that were to happen to Annie? Though there were no drunken rages involved here, and almost never included Annie, he was afraid of the arguments that would come from digging deep into the roots of their troubles.

Laying back down again, he said, "I'll say it again, all of what I've done is me. You should know all of this by now."

"Those things are not you," Grace said again, turning and looking over her shoulder. "The man who held my hand and gave me his shoulder to lean on earlier? That was you."

"That's because I'm not a complete jerk. You were upset, and that was not the time to play games."

"See?" She shifted her sitting on the bed so she was facing him. "You are at least aware enough to know I needed comfort then more than ever."

He said nothing in response.

"I don't want to end our marriage."

There was a lull, and then he said in a quiet voice as he turned to lay on his side again, "It might have to."

Grace stared at him. It was almost as though she was looking through him and into the darkness of the room, and the dark filter that clouded her mind. He must really mean it, she thought. No tempers were flaring, his voice was calm, and his tone was final, but not angry. Silent tears streamed from her eyes as she slumped down into her bed. She didn't know what to think or what to say if anything at all. For a moment, she thought about coming clean about what happened with the man at the bar. What did she have to lose at this point? Even with the clearer communication tonight, it obviously wasn't enough. She regretted wanting to discuss this here. While she knew matters were left unsettled from earlier, at least she found solace in Oliver's gentle actions toward her. Not anymore, now they felt like goodbye gestures. What happened? That was her last thought as she nearly suffocated under the intense emotions she insisted on keeping in. Thank goodness she hadn't been standing, for her knees would have buckled and she would have fallen to the floor in a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

"Grace... Grace...?"

A few hours later as the sun began to rise, Oliver woke up with a headache. The stress from overnight didn't cease. To his surprise, he felt bad for the last thing said before going to sleep. While he meant what he said about his teasing (to put it in the lightest sense) being uncontrollable at this point, he also was telling the truth when he said he knew now was not the time for discussion. Still… to tell her in all seriousness that a divorce isn't out of the occasion was near cruel in this setting. Being away from home and the uncertainty about Annie must have made her feel more trapped than she'd ever been. This in mind, he was worried that she wasn't waking up. She was breathing, so he wasn't hollering for the doctor yet, but this was unusual for a typically light sleeper.

"Wake up, Grace."

Still no response. He now sat on the edge of her bed, dropping all his weight hoping to jar her out of this trance. Her body bounced up by the motion, but she only stirred long enough to turn onto her side.

Though the sun was coming in through the window, Oliver got up again and flipped the switch to turn on the light to make the room as bright as possible.

"...Nothing," he said aloud to himself.

He stared at his wife from across the room for several moments before saying, "All right, Grace. This is ridiculous." He grew angry, starting to think she was ignoring him on purpose. He strode to her bedside, ripped the blanket off of her, picked her up, and set her in the chair by the window, not minding to be gentle.

Her eyes opened halfway for a second or two, but they shut again as she let out a faint moan, and then proceeded to adjust to the chair resting her head on the windowsill.

"Wake up!" Oliver yelled. "Or should I say open your eyes? I know you can hear me."

"I'm tired," she mumbled.

"I am, too, but you don't see me going on about it like a child."

Grace said nothing. Oliver's words sounded echoed, yet muffled at the same time. She wanted to speak, but she wasn't sure what to say, nor did speaking come easy. Her lips felt as though they were being clasped together by a weak magnet. She could part them, but not without effort. The same went for her voice. It was as though she was going to have to talk around a blockage in her throat — one she didn't feel it until she wanted her vocal cords to sound.

"Fine, that's how you want to be? Why don't I go grab one of the doctors and have them check you over? If you can't get up, something must be seriously wrong."

Though she could hear blatant sarcasm in his tone, the way she felt frightened her, though it showed the contrary on the outside. She forced a 'mhmm' sound, and almost instantly went back to a full on sleep.

Oliver kept a caustic expression but didn't fail to notice the legitimate doze she was in again. Worried, yet not wanting to appear to have fallen for any traps, he continued the charade and said, "Okay... I'm getting the doctor."

He waited two seconds for a response or reaction. When there was none, he left the room in search of Annie's doctor.

Within two minutes he returned back and saw Grace remained fast asleep in the chair. Maybe she wasn't faking, he thought. How could anyone sleep so peacefully in a wobbly wooden chair?

"She's over there," he said to the doctor.

The man walked over to Grace. He studied her from a few paces away before clarifying with Oliver, "You said she's breathing, but can't wake up?"

"She opened her eyes briefly, uttered a few words, then fell dead asleep again."

Dr. Goldstein knelt beside Grace, took her wrist, and checked her pulse. "Well, she hasn't fainted."

Oliver rolled his eyes, "I know that. What has happened to her is what I would like to know."

"Does she normally wake up at this hour?"

"No, but she has before on less sleep."

"Given her fright from Annie last night, she may be emotionally exhausted."

"That doesn't sound like Grace."

"What happened before she fell asleep?"

Oliver looked at him with a blank expression. He said after several seconds, "We talked a bit."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

Dr. Goldstein stood up again and then gave Oliver a serious stare. "I couldn't help but overhear some raised voices down the hall. Ironically, this was the time your daughter woke up fussing again."

Oliver swallowed hard. "So not only were you eavesdropping, but you failed to give us an update on Annie?"

"She was fine, though when the nurse went to check on her, she said that she was used to it. Seeing as the nurse heard the bickering as well, she assumed she wasn't talking about her stomach."

"That's it, we're getting out of here." Oliver refused to have these people pry into their family matters. So they were the only couple who argued? He was seething, again noting that if they were anyone else, no one would have given any of this a second thought.

Marching over to Grace, he leaned over and shook her vicariously. "I mean it Grace, wake up. You can sleep for the rest of the week for all I care once we get home, but we're leaving now."

Grace's eyes opened again. She didn't notice the doctor standing close by. Letting out a moan, she said, "Let me be."

"If you want I'll lock you in a room and only open the door for meals, but right now we are leaving."

"No, we can't leave Annie." Her mumble turned into a whine, on the verge of tears.

"We're not, she's coming with us."

"I'm afraid you can't do that, Mr. Warbucks."

Grace was startled by the extra voice, though, didn't make a verbal acknowledgment. Oliver let go of his hold on her after pulling her up and setting her on the edge of the bed. He then walked back over to Dr. Goldstein. "You lost any right to my child when you started interfering in our personal lives. You're a medical doctor, not a psychiatrist. You said yourself that Annie appeared to be faking. I'm going to get to the bottom of this right now."

Without waiting for a response from Dr. Goldstein or Grace, Oliver left the room with a sweep and strode on to Annie's room a couple of doors down.

Grace, who had managed to keep her eyes open at least slit, shared a quick glance with the doctor before he charged after Oliver. Grace remained seated on the bed for a brief moment but then worried that Oliver would cause some sort of damage with his temper growing at a rapid pace. She forced her eyes open all the way, knowing she had to catch up to him to try and calm him down — something that was going to be a challenge given how things were settled last night. What was harder was forcing herself to her feet. She felt numb all over. As if her body was still sleeping. Walking wouldn't be fast, but at least she was able to move.

. . .

"Annie, wake up!" Oliver ordered the instant he set foot into Annie's room.

Annie's eyes shot open. "What's the matter?"

"We're leaving. Get up, get dressed, and let's go."

"But I'm sick," Annie said as she sat up.

"The doctor says there is nothing wrong with you…" He was about to mention the suspicions of her faking but decided it would be better to let her be the one to tell him.

"Really?"

"Really."

"But my stomach hurt real bad."

"He said it must have been something you ate. It doesn't hurt now?"

"Well-"

"Mr. Warbucks, please keep your voice down. I will not have you disturbing the other patients." Dr. Goldstein said once he caught up.

"They'll be fine. Annie's let's go."

Seeing the seriousness in her father's eyes, Annie knew she had to obey his demands. Pushing the covers off and sliding to the floor, she hurried into the bathroom to change back into her pajamas.

Oliver turned to the doctor, lowered his voice, and said in a haunting tone, "We are leaving. Annie is well enough to walk and to talk. I will call for a doctor later this afternoon to check up on her. In the meantime, I want you to let my family get to the bottom of this. Do you understand?"

Dr. Goldstein met his glare but found himself unable to speak. It was clear that Oliver knew Annie was in no harm, so he didn't pick any further argument. When this man meant business, he meant business.

Neither of the men noticed Grace enter the room, so when she spoke, they both jumped. "Where's Annie?"

Oliver moved away from in front of Dr. Goldstein and rushed to Grace's side, seeing as she was holding onto the wall for support. Holding out an arm for her, he said, "I think we have to worry more about you than Annie."

Taking his arm (but not without some hesitation), she said, "I'll be fine once I wake up."

"That's the problem, you're not waking up."

"I made it in here, didn't I?"

"All right, all right." Of course, this was a typical situation that could turn into a full blown argument, but with Dr. Goldstein watching and listening with intent, he decided it was more important to discuss the issue later rather than get the last word in now. "Just sit down until Annie is ready."

"No, I'd rather stand," she said as she resisted his guidance to a chair. "You never answered my question, where is she?"

"In the restroom," he answered. "We are leaving. She wasn't mentioning any pain, we'll have her checked at home later. Wait here, I'm going to go get my jacket and your pocketbook from the other room."

"Okay," she said, confused by the calm tones he was using with her. She wasn't crazy about being alone with Dr. Goldstein, but it was better than walking down that hall again.

Oliver must have shaken up the doctor, Grace observed, as he now looked tense. "Are you feeling all right, Mrs. Warbucks?"

"As I said, I'm just tired. It was a long night, and I was woken from a deep sleep, I suppose."

"Are you really having such a hard time walking?"

"Moving my legs isn't an issue, it's just getting my feet to support my weight. Really, I'm feeling better than I did a few minutes ago."

Dr. Goldberg nodded as Annie entered the room again.

"Annie!" Grace said upon seeing her daughter, poor balance forgotten, she moved away from the wall and took Annie into her arms. "Sweetheart, are you okay?"

"Yeah," she answered in a monotone.

"Are you sure?"

Wriggling out of her mother's embrace, Annie said, "I'm fine, okay? I just wanna go home."

"Annie, what's the matter?" Grace asked.

"I'm tired and I want to go home."

"Good, then we're all on the same page," Oliver said as he came back with the items he went to collect. "Let's go."

"Wait a minute," Dr. Goldstein said. "What about the bill?"

"Don't worry, I'll pay the blasted bill, despite the fact you've done nothing but insult us." On this note, he took Annie's hand and Grace's arm, and they went on their way.

Chapter Text

Annie and Grace sat in the car while Oliver settled the bill. Paying this soon was unusual for him, but he wanted to be done with the whole thing.

Grace struggled to keep her eyes open. The minute they shut she knew she would be out again. She had hoped to use this time to talk to Annie, but the girl remained quiet. Several times she asked Annie how she was feeling and if her stomach still hurt, but each time Annie shrugged.

Annie wasn't in the mood to talk. If her parents thought they'd had a longer night than she did, they were crazy. They weren't the ones being poked and prodded and questioned, yet they still were the most miserable. How could they fight now? Would nothing end these quarrels?

"Annie, I wish you'd talk to me," Grace said again.

"About what?"

"Oh, I don't know," Grace said, borrowing her husband's sarcasm. "School, radio programs... the fact you spent the night in the hospital."

Annie rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to tell you? I'm fine."

"That's hard to believe after hearing your cries of pain." Like Oliver, Grace was avoiding any direct accusations of faking. Besides, what if she really had been ill the night before? If it had been something she ate, she could be feeling well now.

Once again, Annie shrugged.

"Annie, you need to give me a yes or no answer. Is your stomach still hurting you?"

"I guess not."

"That's good."

"Can I go to school today?" Annie asked. As much as she wanted to go home and sleep, she knew school was her haven.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Please? If I feel sick again, I'll come home."

"Sweetie, you were up at least half the night. You must be exhausted."

"I am exhausted, but I have an important test today and I don't want to miss it."

Grace didn't know how to respond. Was Dr. Goldstein's assumption false? Annie was never one to complain about school, but tests weren't her favorite thing. Obviously, school wasn't her issue. Unless she was pretending, she wanted to go thinking she wouldn't be allowed after the night's events.

To her relief (and Annie's) Oliver returned to the car. Conversation halted as neither Annie nor Grace liked to speak when Oliver was in such a fragile state of mind. He was like a grenade. He was calm and harmless when untouched, but the moment the pin was out, an explosion broke loose. Though his anger was not towards them, it could easily turn, so they held back.

Though the hospital was not far from home, by the time they arrived at the mansion, Annie and Grace both ended up falling asleep. Annie woke once the car's engine was turned off. She'd been half asleep at most. She was glad to see what a sound sleep her mother was in because this gave her the opportunity to ask her father about school. To her chagrin, his answer was also a no. Of all things they agree on, it has to be this? Though, by the way Grace was sleeping, maybe they would get through the day without any confrontations.

So far so good, Annie noted when she watched Oliver gently wake Grace. As he had in the hospital, he offered her his arm, which she took, and he led her upstairs. Annie followed behind them, unbeknownst to either of them. She didn't know what she was hoping for, but whatever it was, she didn't see it. There was nothing special about the exchange. Grace was asleep again the minute she reached the bed. Oliver pulled the blankets over her then turned to leave the room. This was when Annie made a dash for her room, as she had been told when they got out of the car to go straight to bed as well.

The day dragged on from there. Annie wasn't allowed to set a foot on the floor. Mrs. Greer and Drake came in every half hour to check on her. All she was allowed to eat were bread and crackers — plain — and all she was allowed to drink was water. Her stomach grumbled. Yesterday's dinner seemed all too long ago. Not knowing when she would return to regular meals didn't help either. All in all, Annie was left with nothing to do. Her homework was finished and didn't expect to see any more until Duffy stopped by after school with today's assignments (as she did whenever Annie missed a day). She was looking forward to talking to someone outside of the household. While the two girls had different groups of friends at school and didn't spend time together every day of the week, the bond of their pasts kept them emotionally inseparable.

When 3 PM came at last, Annie was surprised to see that Duffy brought Molly along with her.

"Hi, guys!" Annie greeted with far too much enthusiasm.

"Hi," Duffy said, suspicious of Annie's energy. "I figured you were sick today, so I brought you your homework."

"Thank you so much," Annie said, taking the folder and to-do list Duffy held forward.

"Gee, Annie, I've never seen someone so excited about homework before," Molly said as she hopped up on Annie's bed. She was 11 now, but she was still the tiniest of the orphan group.

"I'm just excited to do something other than stare at the ceiling."

"Why can't you read?" Duffy asked.

"Mrs. Greer says I shouldn't strain my eyes."

"Do you have a headache?"

"No."

"Then why weren't you at school today?" Molly then asked. "I was waiting for you on the steps, then when Duffy saw me, she said you weren't there."

Annie peered through the open door to see if anyone was in the hallway. Spotting no one, she said in a hushed tone, "Can you two keep a secret?"

"Absolutely," Duffy said with a mischievous look in her eyes. A good secret never failed to get her attention.

"What about you, Molly?" Annie asked.

The littlest nodded, and then Annie began.

"I went to the hospital last night."

"The hospital!?" Both girls said at one.

"Shh, they probably aren't going to let you stay very long, so I have to hurry."

"Sorry."

"I don't know what time it was exactly, but it was late. I started screaming and crying. When my parents came in to see what was wrong, I told them my stomach hurt, and that I needed a doctor. Instead of calling for the doctor, they took me to the hospital. Oh, it was awful. I was so tired. After they took blood, I think they gave me a shot of something to make me sleep. They asked so many questions and pressed on my stomach so hard, it actually ended up hurting."

With wide eyes, Duffy asked, "You mean, it didn't really hurt at all?"

Annie shook her head. "Not a bit."

"Then why would you tell them it did? And go to the hospital!" Molly asked in disbelief.

Looking down and pulling her knees to her chest, Annie said, "They were fighting again."

Knowingly, Duffy and Molly nodded and said, "Oh…"

"What was it this time?" Duffy asked.

"I couldn't hear everything, but they were yelling and banging things. Mom said that she was leaving, or Dad told her to leave. I don't remember anymore. At one point I sneaked out of my room to listen in but then couldn't handle it anymore. I thought maybe a distraction would help."

"Did it?" Molly questioned.

Annie shook her head. "No, I heard them fighting again at the hospital. They weren't really yelling, but the walls were thin, and I could hear them argue. I don't know what about since I still had the sleeping medicine inside me, but given what I heard before, I didn't think it was good."

"What's gonna happen to them?" Duffy felt bad for the interrogation. She hated seeing Annie so upset.

"I don't know. I've been thinking a lot about it today. I'm starting to think that if they're going to keep fighting even in the hospital, they're never going to stop. I find myself almost wishing they would separate. I can't see how that would be any worse than now."

Snuggling up to Annie, Molly said, "Don't say that, you love your mommy and daddy."

"I do love them… It's not that I want one of them to leave, I just want a break from the tension around here. Every time I come home it's something else. I've tried talking to them about it, but Daddy won't listen and just blames Mom. And Mom always says she doesn't want to talk about it."

"I'm sorry, Annie," Duffy said, nudging her arm.

"Thanks, guys," Annie smiled as she hugged them both.

Molly asked after a few moments, "Are you gonna tell them that you're not really sick?"

"I sort of tried this morning. I said that I wanted to go to school and that my stomach wasn't hurting. They wouldn't let me."

"What about tomorrow?"

"I'll tell them flat out if they don't let me go to school."

"Good luck," Molly and Duffy said, once again in unison.

"Girls," Grace said as she entered the room. "I'm afraid Annie needs her rest."

Taking the hint, the girls nodded.

"Bye Annie," Duffy waved. "There isn't much homework, but Mrs. Murphy sent home your test."

"Thanks," Annie smiled again.

After giving Annie one more hug, Molly, too, waved as she caught up with Duffy, "Bye Annie, I hope things are better soon."

Annie couldn't help but look at Grace to see if she caught Molly's peculiar wording. She was relieved to see she maintained the same tired look as she had when they got home earlier that day.

"I hope we see you two again soon," Grace said as the kids reached the doorway. "It's been a while."

Duffy and Molly shared a quick glance at each other, and then looked back at Grace, avoiding eye contact, and gave her a quick nod before scurrying down the hallway.

Once they were gone, Annie opened her folder as she asked, "I'm allowed to do my test, right?"

Grace nodded, then disappeared out the door the moment after.

"Well, look who's finally up," Oliver said from his desk as he noticed Grace walk into the office.

"Oliver…" was all she managed to say. Her hands were shaking, as was the rest of her body.

"What's the matter?" he asked, unable to hide the concern in his voice. "Are you feeling worse than you did this morning?"

Grace shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I just needed a good sleep."

"Then why do you look so pale?"

A sob escaped her, and she rushed over to the couch in the corner of the office. "It's Annie."

Oliver leaped to his feet and ran over to her. "What's happened?"

"She did fake the sickness."

"Dammit, Grace!" he yelled. "By the way you're carrying on, I thought she was on her deathbed!"

"I'm sorry," she continued to cry. "No, she is fine… physically."

"What is wrong with her, then?"

Burying her face in her hands, she said, "Everything."

Concern turning to aggravation, he said, "Grace, you need to be more elaborate."

"I heard her tell Molly and Duffy that she overheard our argument last night. To stop one of us from leaving, she created a diversion. She heard us arguing in the hospital, too."

"You must have heard her wrong."

Looking up, she said, "How could I have heard her wrong? I was standing right outside the door. I woke up shortly before and went to go check on her. I didn't know that the girls were there until I was halfway down the hallway. I'm telling you, I heard their entire conversation on the subject. From the sounds of it, they're well in on our little 'secrets'."

Oliver wanted to continue his disbelief, but he could tell she was serious. Anger switched toward Annie. "That child should know better than to be talking about our personal matters with other people!"

"Oh Oliver, don't blame her. She said herself that she's tried talking to us about it. Neither of us listened. Where else was she supposed to turn?"

"I don't know, but I refuse to let rumors spread."

"The girls won't tell, don't worry. They respect Annie too much. Though, I can't say that have the same respect for us."

"What do you mean?"

With a fresh set of tears appearing, she shook her head. "You should have seen the way they looked at me when they were leaving. I told them Annie needed her rest, and that it was time for them to leave. I didn't want to tell Annie that I overheard anything while they were still around."

"What did you say when they left?" Oliver asked.

"I didn't tell her. I wanted to, but I knew I was going to break down the minute I opened my mouth. I didn't want to bother you, but I figured you should know."

"We're going to have to punish her for this."

"No, we can't," Grace said. "She's been punished enough with our fighting."

"Our fighting has nothing to do with her. "If it bothers her then she shouldn't be listening in."

"I don't think we give her much choice. We both have rather deafening yells."

"That doesn't matter."

"It does matter! Honestly, Oliver, why must you always be so disagreeable?"

"I'm not being disagreeable, I'm only saying that Annie should know, one, not to talk about family matters with other people, and two, that none of this has to do with her. An honorable mention for taking a year off each of our lives by making us think she had a serious illness."

"I'm not thrilled about the latter, either, but you need to step aside for a moment and see things from her perspective. It's obvious that she's worried about seeing us separate. If we get a divorce, our lives aren't the only ones that will be affected. She'll lose one of us full time and will have to go back and forth to visit. She, too, will have to deal with any press around it and everyone in her school will know. Imagine the ribbing she will get."

"Nobody should be caring so much about our lives."

"No, they shouldn't. But the reality is that they are going to no matter what. Whether a formal announcement is made or not, people will find out one way or another."

"You're just saying this because I said it might be what we have to do."

She rose to her feet in anger. "You are the most infuriating human being I have ever met!"

"Here we go again," he said.

"Yes! Here we go again! This is last night all over again! Do I really have to repeat myself every argument? I thought you were finally listening when we were in the hospital. I am sick and tired of the games. I don't care if it's you or if it isn't you anymore, I just know that whoever it is needs to stop. I can't take this anymore. I can only try so hard. We need to resolve this for once and for all. I refuse to put Annie through this any longer — and myself. I have had it!"

"I've told you what I've wanted to do!"

"That's right, you like to take the easy way out of these things. Oh sure, if money is involved you work your hands down to the bone. Something as important as our marriage and our family? It has to be easy. Well, you know what? I'm through fighting. If you want the easy way out of this, then so be it."

Oliver and Grace remained frozen in place, two yards apart. Oliver was surprised to hear Grace give in this time. She spoke with seriousness in her voice, as he was hearing more and more in recent days. "So, are you agreeing to a divorce?"

"Yes," she said, fists clenched. "I am."

"Good…"

Grace then took a few steps to the side, where the typing tables were. "While we're at it, I'll make a few more things easier for you." Picking up one of the typewriters, she continued. "You were saying several days ago that you need to cut down on some of the employees?" Then throwing the metal machine to the floor, she said, "Here you go, one less typist to pay!"

Oliver's face grew red with fury. "You're insane!"

"I'm helping you!" she cried. "Here, better get rid of one more." Picking up another machine, she threw this one in the direction of the window. It flew further than either of the expected, but it missed the target, and rather landed on top of the drink tray, shattering every glass and bottle on it in an instant as well as collapsing the table.

"Get a hold of yourself!" Oliver bellowed.

"I do have a hold of myself. If I didn't I would have been aiming for you!" She walked over to his desk. "You said you wanted to reorganize? Try this:" Starting from one of the side edges, she pushed everything forward. Papers went flying, jars of ink broke and spilled. Phone tumbled and clattered, and lamps flickered upon hitting the ground.

Before Grace had to chance to do any more damage, Oliver grabbed her from behind. "Stop this nonsense right now!"

"Let me go!" she wailed. "You can't tell me what to do anymore."

"I can, and I will!"

"No!" Deep sobs escaped her. She wasn't sure what happened, or what was happening. Her knees gave out, and she started falling to the ground. If it weren't for the fact Oliver kept a death grip on her, she would have crashed to the ground just as the typewriters had. "Leave me be!"

"Not until you stop screaming and trashing the place!"

Normally the staff stayed far away from any of the arguments, however, it was hard to ignore these horrid sounds. From the outside, it sounded as though Oliver was the one making the mess. It made the most sense, anyway. While it had been discovered that Grace had an infamous temper of her own, she never took it too far.

"What is going on in here?" Drake said upon entering. His glare was directed at his boss but broke it for a brief moment to glance at Grace.

"Just give us some space, Drake."

"Oh, what does it matter if he's here!"

"Settle down!" Oliver yelled down at the woman squirming in his arms.

"What on earth is happening?" Mrs. Pugh now joined them, followed by Mrs. Greer and Cecile.

Oliver dragged Grace over to the couch and sat her down but kept hold of her arm. "I appreciate your concern, but we don't need an audience."

Grace slumped over to the edge of the couch, seemingly about to be sick as her deep cries suddenly silenced. The women rushed over to tend to her.

Feeling a moment of bravery, Drake put caution aside and confronted Oliver. "We have remained quiet all this time, but I feel I must remind you that you have a daughter upstairs. The child has already lost two parents, she doesn't need to lose another."

"Are you implying that I've tried to kill her?"

Eying the mess, the butler then said, "I wasn't presuming a murder, at least not intentional."

"For your information, Drake, Grace was the one to make this mess. I was trying to stop her from destroying something else."

Drake's initial, inward reaction was to be unconvinced, but he noticed a hint of concern in Oliver's eyes that made him lean toward the contrary. He looked over to Grace again. She hadn't been ill, but she was tearing again, pushing the other women away from her. No matter what the truth was, he knew now was not the time for further interrogation. Instead, he turned back to Oliver and said, "Do you need help getting her upstairs?"

"I would appreciate it."

Chapter Text

Annie buried her head beneath her pillow. Everything was getting worse. The fact she could tell they were down one floor, yet still hear the shouts, cries, and crashes pushed her over the edge. She tried not to cry over these arguments, as she did for most situations. Since she was little, she knew nothing was solved with tears. Yet, times such as this caused her to break down. Her head hurt. So many questions were running through her mind. Who started it this time? Who initiated the yelling? Who shattered the glass? Why was her mother crying so hard? Who were the other people yelling? Why was everything so quiet so suddenly?

She assumed that Oliver was the one to make all the noise. It's been known to happen. What she couldn't figure out was if he had hit Grace. It wouldn't surprise her. In her mind, this was the scenario that took place. She imagined her mother now having a black eye and bruises on her body. To be honest, she'd been waiting for the day this happened. It was only a matter of time. While Oliver's physical temper had subsided since she first met him, Annie saw what he held back was building up. Perhaps this was why he tended to be quick with Grace.

No matter what order things happened, and no matter what the occurrence was downstairs, Annie collapsed into those rare tears. How did her once happy family turn so dark? To think she first entered this house singing and dancing. Now, the only sounds were screams and cries. Right now, she almost missed scrubbing floors and being paddled. She buried her face in Sandy's fur, thankful that he remained by her side at these times.

Had she not been crying so hard, she would have had some warning of her father coming into her room by the sound of his shoes against the marble floor. When he entered, she was alerted by a whine from Sandy.

"Go away," Annie said. She hated when either parent saw her cry as it was, but with her imaginings of their latest argument, she didn't want to be anywhere near him.

"Annie, I'd like to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk."

"Annie," he said again. "Sit up and look at me."

"No!"

Annoyed, but not in an angry way, Oliver walked over to Annie's bed and grabbed her arm. The reaction he received surprised him.

"Don't touch me!" she yelled and rolled off the bed. Once her feet touched the floor, she dashed for her closet and shut the door.

Oliver was stunned frozen for a moment. It was easy to assume she overheard bits of the argument, but her typical reaction was quite the opposite. She would begin an interrogation, ask why they had to fight, and then take a side. Right now, she was acting as if she were the one in trouble.

"Annie?" He walked over to her closet. "I just want to talk to you, what's the matter?"

"You never want to talk. I know what you did. How could you!" Weeps sounded again, which only made her more frustrated.

"I didn't do anything. Come out of there." He pulled on the doorknob, but Annie had a hold on it from the inside.

"Yes, you did. I heard it!"

"What did you hear?"

"I heard you throwing things and Mom screaming and crying."

Oliver sighed. "Annie… please come out here so I can talk to you."

"No!"

"Annie!" he yelled. "Open this blasted door!"

On impulse, Oliver kicked the bottom of the door. This motioned frightened Annie more, knowing that her stubbornness caused her father's temper to turn to her. She didn't respond. She couldn't respond.

Fortunately for Oliver, Annie was too upset to maintain her grip on the knob. When he saw it loosen, he opened the door and saw his daughter sitting on the floor nearby with her face buried in her knees.

"Annie," he said in a calmer voice. But Annie flinched away, still not wanting to be near him.

"I'm sorry for my outburst… I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

Annie remained silent aside from some sniffs and cries.

Oliver concluded that pushing her was pointless. "All right," he said. "I'll let you alone, but I'm sitting out there until you're ready to talk to me."

Annie stayed in the closet for several minutes. She was thankful to be able to calm down a bit, but she was still angry at herself for not doing so sooner. A part of her wanted to run to Oliver, as she used to her first couple years at the mansion when anything was wrong. At that time, she never would have predicted that he would be part of her strain. It took a lot to go wrong for Annie Bennett Warbucks to have doubts for a positive future. For once in her life, she admitted to needing help. Last night and today proved it. She tried taking matters into her own hands in the most drastic way she could think of, and it failed like everything else.

She decided to give Oliver one last chance. Though, she was beyond concerned by the fact he was the one initiating a discussion. Where was Grace? How hurt was she? What exactly did he want to say to her?

"I knew you'd come out here eventually," Oliver said as he sat in Annie's reading chair by the window.

As she rubbed her eyes, Annie asked, "What do you want?"

Patting his knee, Oliver said, "Come sit here, it's been a while."

Annie shook her head. It wasn't that she felt she was too old — that was a rare sentence to come from her given how she missed ten years of childhood more or less — but he had yet to prove she could trust him.

Respecting her wishes, Oliver said, "Very well," and continued. "Annie, I'm sorry that you overheard your mother and I… about everything. I don't just mean today. I knew this was affecting you, but I guess until I saw you ten minutes ago, I didn't believe how much."

"I'm tired of it."

"So am I."

"Then why can't you stop arguing? Mom's tried. She's told me that much."

"I know… I guess I haven't given her a chance."

What was going on? He was agreeing with her without defense. "Oh no," Annie cried again. "You've killed her, haven't you!?"

Oliver's eyes grew wide, "Don't be absurd!"

"Then why are you admitting to your errors? I told you I heard the noises. If you didn't kill her, then she must be real hurt!" Turning to run to the door, she finished, "I gotta see her."

Oliver stood and ran after her. "Wait!" he called, managing to catch her arm. "I don't think you should disturb her right now."

"What did you do to her?" she sobbed again.

He was about to correct her on the situation, but something stopped him. He wasn't sure what, he only knew he found himself saying, "I promise you, she is fine. She just needs her rest."

"But what did you do?"

"…I lost my temper."

"I got that, but how hurt is she? I need to know."

"Nothing drastic or visible."

"I can't believe you hit her. Or threw something by the sounds of it. Or pushed her."

"All right, we don't need a replay."

"You mean you did all of those?" she asked.

Oliver shook his head, "No. Look, it's over now, can we please talk? I have something serious to discuss with you."

"I knew it would be," she said, drying her eyes again.

"Let's sit over here," he said as he led her to the edge of her bed and sat down,

Doing the same, Annie said, "Please, whatever it is just tell it to me direct. I'm too tired to have to think through anything else."

"Well, I'm afraid even the direct route might be tricky. I have two things I want to talk to you about."

"What's the first one?"

"Your mother and I know that you weren't sick last night."

"You do?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Then why have you been playing along?"

"We weren't completely sure at first. The doctor told us that nothing seemed wrong with you this morning but was still waiting for a couple of tests results. However, we took you home because that man was nothing but a snoop. Then, a little bit ago, your mother overheard you talking to your friends."

"Oh…" she said, then waiting for Oliver to respond with some sort of scolding. When nothing was said, she asked, "Aren't you going to punish me?"

"No, because it sounds like you've been punished enough."

Tears filled her eyes, but she didn't let them fall. "Just a bit… What's the second thing?"

"This is the tricky one…"

Noticing a slight shake in his voice, and then seeing him struggle, seeming to search for words, she questioned, "What is it?"

"Grace and I… well, we've been discussing the great possibility of… of a divorce."

This was the day Annie dreaded for months, if not years by now. Some days it felt as though she lived each hour waiting for that disgusting word. When it came, she expected then to be her fit and breakdown. Maybe it was her episode a few minutes ago, or maybe it was her recent realizations about her family's future, but she didn't cry. She didn't scream. She didn't even make a face. All she could do was look away and stare at the wall. A minute later, in a low, unemotional voice, she said, "I'm sorry to hear it's come to this."

Oliver looked at Annie with as blank a stare as she did at the wall. "I have to say I'm surprised this is your reaction."

"Me, too," she admitted. Standing up and walking over to her window seat, she continued. "I'm not saying I'm happy about it. I despise the idea. But if it means the yelling will stop… I have to say right now that it might be worth a try."

"You aren't worried about what the other kids will say?"

"Honestly, Dad, I don't care anymore. Dealing with them will be a lot easier."

Wow, he thought. Grace wasn't kidding earlier. How could he have been so blind? When had he come to the point where he went back to putting his own needs before Annie's? It wasn't like that in the beginning, much like his relationship with Grace. All of a sudden, there was a change. If Annie felt this way, maybe it was time to admit that he was at more fault than not. Still, he was too afraid to take an honest look at himself, and what he might be doing to contribute. To be frank, he was afraid of himself.

"I'm sorry."

Annie ignored him. She had trouble believing those words.

Sensing her disbelief, Oliver stood himself and walked over to the window seat where Annie was now curled up. Moving her legs, he sat down beside her. "I really am. I can't say I want this to happen, but I think it's for the best."

"Sure."

"I don't know what else to do."

"Maybe try working through your problems instead of running away from them?" she said in a bitter tone which most definitely was learned from Oliver. "Have you even tried?"

"I…" he stopped. He didn't want lies to be put upon Annie now. It was bad enough he got into the habit with Grace. The last thing he wanted to do was lose Annie as well. "Not as much as I should have."

"I don't understand why you're so stubborn. And before you get mad at me, I'm not only taking Mom's side. I'm going by everything I've seen and heard. You can be mean sometimes — and that's something new. You didn't do that before. I know it's not my place to say anything, but some of the things you do and say to her go beyond anger. You seem to like finding what will make her cry. That's why you hurt her, isn't it?"

A look of strain came across the man's face — more strain than there was before this moment. Annie looked at him with concern, unsure of what the reason was. In heat of the discussion, she assumed, "You really hurt her bad... didn't you?"

Oliver shook his head.

"Then what is it?"

"Again, I promise you she's fine. I'm more worried about you at the moment."

"I can take care of myself. I just want the yelling to stop."

"It will."

"It would be nice if it would without destroying our family."

"Our family won't be destroyed. It will probably become stronger."

"Stronger?" Annie said, still using the bitter tone. "We'll be apart. You won't mean to, but you and Mom will be fighting for me to love one of you more than the other. It will be uncomfortable when we're all in the same room, and... and it's not how I imagined my parents."

Annie broke down into the deepest of sobs — the deepest Oliver had ever heard from his daughter. Taking her into his arms, he held on to her as tightly as he could. "Annie," he choked, but didn't stop. "It's all going to be okay."

"No, it's not. Nothing has been okay for so long."

"I know…"

"Then work things out with Mom without leaving each other. You said yourself that you could be trying harder."

"It's not as simple as you seem to think."

"I didn't say it would be simple, but I know you two love each other. You used to smile at each other all the time, snuggling, and you were always spending time together. What happened that made you seethe when you're in the same room?"

"I don't know," he said in defeat.

Annie decided it was a good thing that her father was crying. It was something rarely seen, so he must really be feeling down. If it meant he would begin to think things through differently, it was worth it. "Talk with Mom and maybe you'll both find out."

"I don't think she's interested anymore."

"Apologize for hitting her."

"I mean now that I've told her I want to divorce, I don't think she will be open to further discussion."

"Wait... You were the one who told her you wanted a divorce?"

"Yes."

"And you were still the one to hurt her?"

Oliver was silent.

Annie studied his face. He looked as though he was searching for a response. She was suspicious now. Taking a moment to think over the past few minutes, she realized that with his temper, it was strange that he was tolerating her many mentions of an attack on Grace. He hated admitting his faults, and this was one of the biggest faults she could imagine. And he was the one to suggest a divorce? Knowing Grace, she wouldn't take it well.

A minute passed. Before she spoke again. "Mom was the one who hurt you..."

"She didn't hurt me."

"Then what was all that noise?"

"I told you."

"Not the truth."

Oliver forced himself to meet his daughter's eye. By now, he should have learned that Annie, no matter how far behind she might appear, always ends up a step ahead of him. "I don't want you upset with your mother."

"Daddy, what happened?"

Taking a deep breath, Oliver began the real story. "I told her I wanted a divorce. From there she grew angry, upset, and I'm sure hurt. I'm sure she wanted to throw everything at me, but she didn't. I can't blame her for breaking down this way. I drove her to this."

"That all makes sense, but what I don't understand is why you told me you hurt her."

"I rather you displeased with me than her."

"But why? This is something you would normally come in here to defend yourself."

Oliver shook his head. "I don't know."

A few seconds passed, and then Annie said with a faint smile, "You do love her."

"Of course I love her."

"Tell her that, not me."

"She doesn't want to hear it."

"Yes, she does, you're just making excuses," Annie said.

"I don't know," he said again.

"Why are you so afraid to work things out? What can you possibly have to lose at this point? You're wrong if you actually think that divorcing her will fix your problems."

Oliver knew she was right, and he couldn't bear to hear someone whom he still saw as the little girl who barreled into his life five years prior put him in his place. How could the child be more in tune with his thoughts than himself? It was too much. He felt cries near to Annie's build up inside him. He was sure he was going to collapse right then and there. However, he was silent. He couldn't move, nor speak. He only looked straight ahead.

Annie saw the strange look in his eyes. It was as though he slipped out of the world, leaving his body behind. She gave him a few minutes of quiet. She knew he had a lot running through his mind. Maybe he was deep in thought. Once the few minutes passed, and he still failed to utter a word or move a muscle, Annie placed her hand on his shoulder. "Daddy, are you all right?"

His response was delayed by almost a minute, be he did manage to speak, albeit, with a quiet and coarse voice. "Yeah."

"Do you need a glass of water?"

"No," he said. "Thank you."

The way he turned his head when he spoke, Annie saw how much color drained from his face. With concern, she said, "I think you need to lay down."

"So do I."

"Do you think you can make it to your room, or would you rather rest here?"

Not confident in his ability to walk, he answered, "Here — just for a few minutes."

Annie nodded and helped take off his shoes and put his legs up. An extra weight felt added to him. Times before when he'd fallen asleep on the couch, Annie would help him recline before putting a blanket over him, but now it seemed as though whatever grief he felt was holding him down. In a way, it made sense, but it was also a startling thought.

Once he was settled and his eyes were shut, Annie said, "I need to take Sandy for a walk. I'll be back before dinner."

"All right," he said and appeared to then drift into an instant sleep.

Annie did take Sandy for a walk, but instead of going back to her room to see how Oliver was doing, she went to see her mother.

Unsure of what she would be entering into, Annie stood outside the door of her parents' bedroom and collected herself as much as she could. Once she felt she was ready, she stood up straight and walked in.

As she half-expected, Grace was laying on the bed. Whether or not she was asleep was the real question.

"Mommy?"

"What is it, Annie?" Grace replied in a gruff and weary voice. If she had been sleeping, it wasn't deep.

"Are you okay?"

"Wonderful," the woman replied in a sarcastic tone.

Annie took a few steps closer to the bed. "Daddy said..." she stopped. Maybe telling her that Oliver relayed what happened wasn't such a good idea. Of course, now, she had to think of another way to complete the sentence she'd started.

"He what?" Grace asked, worried about what she was about to hear.

"He said he doesn't feel good," the girl settled on saying. "He looked real bad, too. I couldn't help him to bed 'cause he could hardly stand, so he's taking a nap in my room."

"Why was he in your room?" Grace asked, knowing that her husband more often than not liked keeping to himself after a big argument.

Annie shrugged. "I don't know."

"Oh."

Seeing that her mother had no concern, Annie decided to play the sick card one last time, this time with Oliver as the victim. "Mommy, I'm worried about him. I think you should come check on him with me." It wasn't a complete lie. She was worried. Grace didn't need to know that he wasn't physically ill. At least, physical illness wasn't the source of his troubles.

"I'm sure he'll get by without me."

"Oh, no," Annie said, now sitting on the edge of the bed. "He needs you."

"Annie..." Grace said as she attempted to sit up and take her daughter's hand. "It's only fair to tell you that he and I just had the worst fight of our marriage. I know you've heard this before, but it's for real this time. I don't see this one getting any better."

"Huh," Annie said dumbly. "That's strange."

Looking in puzzlement, Grace asked, "Why is that?"

"He just said to me that he loved you, and then he started crying real hard… I mean it, actual tears. I didn't know what to do."

Realizing Annie must be in on the situation, Grace shook her head. "I appreciate what your trying to do here, but I'm afraid this is something out of either of our control. Oliver isn't going to quit until he gets what he wants, and I'm assuming you know what that is."

"All right, all right... he told me everything. But I don't think he means it when he says he wants to divorce you."

Hearing the plain phrase again brought out an instant cry from Grace. More accustomed to her mother's tears than her father's, Annie knew what to do. These were sad tears, not angry, so Annie crawled up to Grace's side and wrapped a tight arm across her.

"I'm sorry, Annie," Grace continued to snivel. "I'm sorry for everything you've gone through, and I'm sorry for everything you're going to go through because of our actions."

Determined not to let her own emotions show again, Annie swallowed hard before saying, "I wasn't pretending this time when I said Daddy doesn't look so good. He really did cry — harder than I've ever seen him. And he really did say that he loved you."

Reaching for a tissue, Grace sniffed. "I can believe the first one. I might be able to be convinced of the second. But as for the third? I have a hard time believing that isn't an exaggeration."

"I heard all the noise downstairs, Annie began, knowing she was going to have to relive this story if she wanted any chance in convincing her mother of Oliver's statement. "And I assumed Daddy was beatin' you or something. I was real scared. Daddy came into my room to talk to me. I ran away from him thinking he might hurt me, too. I don't know why. I was never even that scared before being paddled by Miss Hannigan. I finally talked to him, and he said he lost his temper, but that you were okay."

"Wait a minute," Grace interrupted. "Did he say that he hurt me?"

"He didn't say yes but he didn't say no. He said thinks that made me believe he did."

"Oh, Annie, I can't let you think such things. The truth is-"

"You were the one who lost your temper," she finished for Grace. "I ended up figuring that out myself."

"Why did he tell you he was the one to throw things?"

"Because he loves you, and he didn't want me to be mad at you. Or scared of you like I was of him."

Tears made another appearance on the woman's face. As sad as it was, it was the nicest thing Oliver had done for her in a long time. "He didn't actually say that, did he?"

"I said to him that he loved you, and he said of course he does. He said it as though I was crazy to think otherwise."

A slight smile fell upon Grace's face, but it only lasted a moment. "I still have a hard time believing it when he..."

Annie gave a sympathetic smile to her mother as she saw her too overcome with emotion to finish the thought. "I know," she said.

Grace hugged Annie, wanting to take a break from the conversation. The two sat in silence for several minutes. Both agreed, without speaking, that this was perhaps the calmest moment the mansion had seen for a long time. Too bad, Annie thought, Oliver couldn't be part of this. After some time, she decided to try one more time.

"I think you should still check on Daddy. I don't think he'll be mad at you for anything. I think he wants to stop fighting but doesn't know how."

Grace couldn't help but scoff. "All he needs to do is talk to me. He began to last night, but by the end of it, he was still mentioning divorce. He was calm, so I know he meant it."

"Maybe he has a reason for meaning it."

"I know the reason. We can't be in the same room together for more than five minutes without a shouting match."

"No," Annie said. "I mean maybe that's part of the reason. By the way he's acting, I don't think he fully knows what the reason is either. If anyone can help him figure it out, it's you."

"Maybe at another time it would be me, but not anymore."

"You'll never know if you don't go in there now."

Grace pulled away from Annie to look at her face. It was finally registering that Annie needed to see her and Oliver together. While she appeared calm, she knew the idea of divorce must have been even harder on the teenager than it was for herself or Oliver.

"All right," Grace said at last. "But you need to come with me."

Annie nodded, and all but jumped out of bed.

When they arrived at Annie's room, they found Oliver fast asleep. Grace was nervous. She knew Annie expected her to wake him up, but sometimes Oliver reacted poorly to being disturbed. Lord knows what happened here before Annie came and found her.

"Come on," Annie said, tugging on her mother's hand.

Grace gave in, but not without holding back for a moment. Once she stood beside the bed, she signaled for Annie to give them some space, so Annie walked over to the window seat where she and Oliver sat earlier.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, laying a hand on her husband's shoulder, Grace said, "Oliver? Are you all right?"

It took a couple of repetitions, but eventually, Oliver's eyes opened. "Grace?" he said, unsure of why she looked so peaceful.

"Yes."

"What's going on?" His brain was in a complete fog.

Grace answered, "Annie was worried about you. I came in here to see if you're okay."

"I don't know."

"Neither do I."

The two adults looked at each other uncomfortably while Oliver sat up. Neither of them knew what to say. Oliver saw from the corner of his eye that Annie, too, was in the room, so he wanted to make sure he didn't say anything to upset Grace.

Also not wanting to argue in front of Annie, Grace knew there was only one this she could say. "I'm... I'm sorry for what happened in the office. I lost control." She meant her words, but she still found it difficult to apologize to him.

"It's okay," he replied, unsure of another response.

"Why did you tell Annie you hurt me?"

Oliver looked away. Of course Annie would tell his little secret. "I don't know," he decided to answer.

Grace looked at him with tear-filled eyes. What Annie told her minutes ago must have been true, for his face tinted red and he was unable to glance at her when she took his head.

"You did it for me?" she asked.

"I did it for Annie," he denied.

"That's not true, Daddy," Annie spoke.

Knowing he was emotionally cornered, Oliver gave in. "Yes... I don't know why, but I did do it for you, Grace."

"I don't know what to say."

"Neither do I," he agreed.

Each of them made a slight move toward the other, both feeling the same strange emotion. The feeling was riddled with exhaustion. Stress whirled in their minds, but it'd become so overbearing that their ears seemed to be clogged to the point of ringing. Though it was only near dinner time, the room was dark. The breakdowns that all three Warbucks family members went through made them tired, giving them the illusion of a later hour. Annie watched her parents like a hawk, sensing their discomfort. Grace, for the first time in a while (aside from the time spent waiting in the hospital), wanted nothing more than to fall into Oliver's arms and hold on until she was forced to let go. Mention of divorce hadn't made her mad. Her tantrum wasn't in anger, but rather utter fear. Where was she going to go? How could she ever leave Annie? Problems aside, she couldn't imagine leaving Oliver, either. It was easy to say when she was mad. It was easy to make threats. But deep down, she knew she could never stand to be away from him for any length of time. Throwing the typewriters and messing up his desk had more or less been a blackout. She saw very little at that moment, and what she could see was terrifying: loneliness.

Little did she know, Oliver, too, wanted to keep her close. Seeing Annie so upset made him realize the seriousness of his actions. Up to now, he had been in denial. His focus was on himself, his fears, and his insecurities. That's not to say he didn't expect any reaction from anyone else, but he never pictured his tough as nails fifteen-year-old crumbling. Nor did he think Grace was capable of throwing a typewriter five feet in front of her. The worst part of all of this was beginning to see that the accusations against him were proving accurate, or rather, he was starting to admit to them.

Realizing neither Oliver nor Grace could find it inside themselves to be the first to make a non-threatening move, Annie stepped up from the window seat and sneaked over to the bed. Crawling on as lightly as she could, she then swooped in between her parents and pulled them into a group hug. This gesture ended up pushing Grace down onto the bed and starling her, but she didn't move. Much to Annie's relief, neither did Oliver. Both parents held on to Annie, silently agreeing that this time was better spent with their daughter. Without any more words spoken between them, the family remained in their bear-cuddle until Drake alerted them that their (late) supper was served.

Chapter Text

By some sort of miracle, the rest of the evening went on without drama of any sort. Sure, there was a heaviness to the atmosphere, but no one made mention of it. Dinner was quiet. After, Oliver suggested they go see a movie to take their mind off things for a while. Annie and Grace agreed that a distraction was needed.

Annie and Oliver were engrossed in the film, but Grace found her mind wandering more often than not. Once again, she had to sift through the events of the day to figure out what was going through Oliver's mind. Back before dinner, the way he looked at her reflected ways he had before the arguments began. Of course, this time there was a sadness, but it was better than any of the vindictive looks.

Later that night, Oliver and Grace were worried that with Annie asleep and in her room all hell would break loose again. The fear was so strong that neither of them dared to speak. At least not until they were well settled in.

Given the silent decision made, Grace felt uncomfortable approaching Oliver and stayed on the edge of the bed leaving a good few feet of space between them. Oliver, too, felt odd even though he was the one — seemingly — in the most control of the future for them. As he had before, he wanted to draw her near to him. Why? He wondered. He was the one to say it was over, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be annoyed by the fact that she followed him into the bedroom? Well, she didn't exactly follow. She held back when he turned down the hall, but he gave her a nod to tell her it was okay. Which brought him to the next of his questions… shouldn't he have been telling her to leave the house? Divorce was the last resort, after all.

Now that he said his wish to separate allowed, he began to see things from a different perspective. Of course, seeing Annie's true feelings toward the matter helped. His initial thoughts about having a stronger relationship without being married vanished. Never before had he seen such anger and despair in her eyes than he had before she picked up that first typewriter. Even though he wasn't sure what his issues were with Grace, it broke his heart seeing her this upset.

As his mind cleared and he thought of the future with a split family. He concluded that he wasn't ready to lose the person who had cared for him when no one else did. How could he have treated her so poorly? All those years she stood by him, and he didn't see her worth fighting for to keep? His head was pounding. If only he knew why he pushed her away...

"Grace?"

"Yes?" Grace replied in a shaky voice as though she had been crying.

"I... I think that we..." Oliver stopped, unsure of how to put his thoughts into words.

Several seconds passed before Grace turned to face him. "What?"

Oliver, who was laying on his back, forced himself to look Grace in the eye, if only for a few seconds. "Can we forget what happened earlier?"

Grace's breath caught. No, she thought, this can't keep happening. "If we forget this, we'll only be in a more-"

"No," he corrected. "I mean... I want to, um, take back what I said back in the office."

"What do you mean?"

She wasn't making this any easier. "I don't think we should go forth with any plans for divorce right now... I want to try and..." for the second time that day, a sob escaped him.

"Oliver..." Grace cried as well. She hadn't seen him cry in years… and it was nothing compared to the sound she just heard him make.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Grace. I'm sorry for everything."

Grace couldn't believe her ears. He apologized on his own, and there was no denying that he meant it. "I'm sorry, too," she said.

"I don't know where to go from here," he said as he made a valiant effort to silence his weeps.

Grace shook her head. "Neither of us do. Let's not try to figure it out tonight."

Putting her apprehension aside, she closed the distance between them and snuggled to his side. She was welcomed with open arms. Oliver clung on to her and continued to cry, as did she. Both of their minds spun, but at least there were some positive items in there this time. Grace was so relieved to hear Oliver say he didn't want to divorce. Yet, she also feared this would turn into another game. At the same time, she didn't see why he would cry this way if he intended it to be a joke. Of every embarrassment there was, Oliver found crying to be the worst of them. Nothing was worth losing his pride. Maybe it was true… sometimes hitting rock bottom was the only way to heal.

Another miracle happened this night, at least, that's how anyone in the Warbucks household would consider it. Once the tears began to subside at best, Oliver and Grace pulled apart and looked at each other. No tricks, no games, and no parting reflected in either of their eyes. Sorrow was plentiful, but so was remorse. Most importantly, both of them could see that they were still in love. As ludicrous as it seemed these days, there was no denying it at this moment. With this, the two kissed. For the first time in over a year, the embrace was meaningful, and both of them felt hope for the future.

Alas, morning came and it was time to face reality. Their lives weren't a fairytale where one kiss changed their entire world. Breaking their bad habits and attitudes was going to take hard work. Oliver still had issues admitting his errors, and Grace needed to work on seeing a deeper meaning behind his actions and gain patience with him. The day started on a positive note with them telling Annie at breakfast that they were going to try and work things out — for real this time.

The next week went on without any major arguments. Bickering was frequent, but most of the time now, they were able to catch or stop themselves before it went too far. Another trick they tried was sleeping in separate rooms some nights. Initially, their intention was every night for an attempt at some space, but the two were far too accustomed to being together, even on those tense and angry nights. While their communication still wasn't what it should be on good or bad terms, there was an improvement. For this, everyone was grateful... Until the next Tuesday afternoon.

The schedule appeared to be normal. Oliver had a couple of meetings throughout the day and there were calls to make, papers to type, and figures to check. Aside from breakfast, Oliver and Grace barely spoke a word to each other as their tasks took them in different circles. Grace was due in the office at 2 PM to take notes during a meeting with a colleague of Oliver's. When she took her seat at the conference table, Drake announced the colleague's arrival. When she looked up, she nearly fainted.

"Mr. Bailey, sir," Drake said.

When Grace stood up to greet the man, she found herself face to face with none other than Victor — the man from the bar with whom she spent the night weeks before. She knew he recognized her as well. Maybe it was the terror that entered or eyes, or maybe he didn't want to mess up any business with Oliver, but somehow in their five-second stare, an agreement to keep quiet transpired. Nevertheless, Grace was preoccupied throughout the entire meeting. She was thankful to only be there to take notes. This gave her the excuse to avoid eye contact. Oliver sensed the sudden discomfort in Grace but didn't think all too much of it as his mind was mostly on the meeting. As soon as it was over, Grace dashed out of the room before there was any chance for conversation. Her initial direction was toward her (new) room but had a second thought. Instead, she waited in the hall by the front door. She needed to speak to Victor.

Victor was about a half an hour longer with Oliver before he headed for the door. Grace was getting tired of standing, but she knew she needed to wait. When she finally saw him coming down the hall, she ended up startling him by the haste in her sudden presence.

"Well," Victor said with a smile. "Isn't this a surprise?"

"Yes..." she replied.

"Why didn't you tell me you're the wife of Oliver Warbucks?"

"I didn't see it necessary. Would that have made a difference?"

"Yes," he said. "I would have come here sooner."

Fear entered Grace's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I haven't stopped thinking about you, Grace. I wanted to find you, but I didn't know where to look. I never imagined you'd be here."

"Find me? Victor, you know I'm married."

"Yes, but obviously not contently. Now that I know who you are… I know that the happy couple who filled the newspapers when they were married are having as serious issues as you revealed to me the night we met. It's not going to go on forever."

"I made a huge mistake," Grace said with anger in her voice. "You had to have seen how much I drank in the bar. Oliver and I had a terrible fight that night. I was scared and confused... I'm grateful for you listening, and even taking me in when I didn't know where else to turn. Unfortunately, I let myself take it too far. I never set out to be unfaithful to Oliver. He and I are working things out now and I refuse to jeopardize any progress we've made. I know what I did was wrong. I will never forgive myself for it, but I want to move on. Oliver doesn't know what happened. I know he needs to at some point but right now isn't the time. Please, I beg you not to tell him."

"Don't worry," Victor said as he took hold of Grace's hands. "I won't say a word."

Grace was pleased to hear this but felt most uncomfortable in this position. She slid her out of his grip as she said, "Thank you, I appreciate it." She didn't really think Victor would tell Oliver, at least not right now. The meeting went well, and Victor would be a fool to ruin any business deal with him.

Victor watched as she left. What an incredible stroke of luck, he thought. Just the other day he'd been sitting in the same bar, thinking about her. He'd had more than his fair share of women, but Grace was one of the rare ones that stuck in his mind. What was it about her? She wasn't young or exceptionally gorgeous. Personality didn't make sense, either. All he heard her talk about was her problems with her husband. Strangest of all, it wasn't the physical affair itself he remembered so fondly (though it was a nice bonus) — it was her being. How hadn't he recognized her? The bar was dark, but he should have seen it later on. Then again, he never gave much thought to the wives of men in the news.

Wouldn't it figure? He finds her, and she's off-limits… for now anyway. He didn't buy this whole resolution gag. Grace must have been trying to let him down easy. The more he thought about it, the less he remembered seeing Grace's photo alongside Oliver in the press. She was only there for the big events. Before then they were always together. Now he was curious. What was going on? And then, there was a question of how long had it been going on? If Grace spent the night of him after just meeting, then there must have been some sort of affair going on before the wedding. Besides, he'd only spent an hour with Oliver and he already couldn't stand him. Grace must be putting up with a lot if he greets strangers with such a disposition.

Victor rushed out of the house. He needed to see his plan with Grace on paper before he started anything. One wrong move and he would surely receive a punch in the face (at the very least). Women like Grace didn't come along every day. He wasn't about to let her go easily. His mind was moving as fast as his feet. As he bolted out the door he bumped into Molly, who was heading into the mansion to visit Annie.

"Oof!" she said. "I'm sorry, Mister. I wasn't paying a-"

"Watch where you're going, kid," Victor grumbled, cutting Molly off before she finished her apology. Without taking a second more, he continued to his car with great haste.

Molly stood and watched him as he zoomed out of the driveway, noting something suspicious about this man she'd never seen before. She shrugged, figuring he worked for Mr. Warbucks and had just been fired.

Chapter Text

"Oliver?"

Grace couldn't sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the look on Victor's face that afternoon. He looked at her with such intent in his eyes, it was difficult to ignore. It was hard to imagine he was thinking about her before today. While she thought of him often, it wasn't in the same sense. Guilt overwhelmed her. Alcohol was no excuse. In the end, she knew enough about what she was doing. She did have intentions to come clean to Oliver someday but now was not the time. While he was more aware of it as of late, he still had a quick temper. By all means, she didn't want a repeat of when he declared a divorce. Of course Victor would show up right when she was starting to feel safe in her own home again. She prayed he meant it when he said he wouldn't mention anything.

Despite her guilt, all she wanted right now was to be near Oliver. After dinner, she said her goodnights early, saying she didn't feel well (which was true). Since then she'd retired in the guest bedroom where she stayed on nights she and/or Oliver needed space. Hours went by slowly. As much as she wanted to sleep, she just couldn't. Far too much was on her mind. Her room reflected her dark thoughts which wasn't helping in the slightest. When 10 o'clock approached, she decided to venture to Oliver's room, as she'd been calling it. Even though it was still their shared space, it was hard to call it hers as the ghosts of hundreds of arguments still clung to the walls. Tonight, though, none of those ghosts mattered. She needed to reassure herself that she was home with her family, even if her relationship with Oliver was still on thin ice. At this point, she figured, what did she have to lose? If for whatever reason he found out tonight about Victor, she prayed he would be able to listen to her pleas at least somewhat rationally. She still didn't plan on telling him yet, but if she fell asleep next to him and she happened to blurt it out, she needed to be mentally prepared for any reaction.

"Oliver?" she repeated when he failed to respond. "Are you awake?"

Oliver stirred. "Hmm?"

Walking over to the bed, Grace asked, "May I stay here for a little while?"

"Yeah," he said, more alert this time. "How are you feeling?"

"Not well," she answered, climbing under the blankets. "You're asleep early."

"I was reading," Oliver replied. "I guess I fell asleep."

"Ah," she said, closing her eyes, though not counting on falling asleep herself.

Oliver looked at her a moment. While it was rare she tried to cuddle with him nowadays, he found it strange she wasn't now. Obviously, she'd come to be with him. Since beginning to spend most nights in separate rooms, he'd noticed a positive change in her energy. It wasn't until he began sleeping alone that he realized just of much she used to toss and turn.

"Are you going to sleep in here?" he ended up asking.

"I don't know."

"Is there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

Eyes shooting open in a panic, she replied, "Why do you ask?"

"Well, you just seemed... preoccupied, or something."

Of course, now he's open to talking. "I'm not preoccupied," she lied. "I'm tired, but I can't sleep. I thought I'd come in here and see if maybe I was homesick. Well, more like room sick. Not that it's an actual phrase, but... Oh, you know what I mean."

Suspicious of her babbling, Oliver asked after a moment, "Did something happen this afternoon? You seemed perfectly normal until then."

"I told you, I don't feel good." Patting his arm, she finished, "Don't let me keep you up. Go back to sleep. I'm fine. I'll either fall asleep or go back to the other room eventually."

Oliver nodded but didn't break his stare (which Grace was trying to ignore). He felt himself fighting the urge to pull her closer to him like he used to do when she was upset (whether she admitted it or not). But the air still wasn't fixed between them. Both of them found it difficult to show any sort of affection toward the other without a catastrophe hanging over their heads. For example, the night when they almost settled to divorce. While it wasn't the simplest gesture, it was much easier than admitting that in a sane moment, they wanted the other near. Oliver didn't know whether Grace was thinking about him or not. The ambiguity there didn't help.

Eventually, he turned to his side and fell back asleep without carrying out any movement towards her. Grace, too, fell asleep after a time. However, her sleep didn't feel like rest. Dreams, or nightmares, concerning Victor plagued her.

She found herself back in the bar. At first, she couldn't tell if she was imagining the night all over again, or if it was a new situation. After some time passed, she realized this took place after meeting Victor. From her barstool, she watched as the man walked in. He didn't notice her right away. Saying hello to a few people as we passed them, he made his way to a stool across the counter. Grace didn't make herself noticed. She only came for a quick drink to cool down from her latest fight with Oliver. With bitter feelings toward her husband present, she decided to lay low. She was lucky the first time in not getting caught. She shouldn't risk it again. Unless, of course, he approached her first... and with time, he did.

Looking around the room, he did a double-take when he noticed Grace. Thrilled, he took his drink and smiled at her, making his way around the counter. A certain joy entered her as he approached, as though this was what she'd wanted all along but couldn't quite admit. Just as he was taking a seat next to her, none other than Oliver walked in. Grace 's breath caught when she noticed him. Without any explanation to Victor, she slid off her seat and walked to the far end of the room, hiding her face as best as she could. Victor followed, but she replied with stern whispers telling him to stop. When he didn't, Grace's new destination was the door. By now Oliver must have gotten a seat. 

Victor grew more insistent, almost as if he thought she was playing some sort of game. Grace grew distracted by this. Eyes were starting to focus on them. The last thing she needed was whispering and leering. Her distraction proved fatal, in a matter of speaking. Almost to the door, she dropped her guard thinking she was home free. All she had to do was dash out the door and not look back. Unfortunately, when she commenced her escape, she slammed right into Oliver, who up until now had been oblivious to her and Victor's presence.

Catching her as she fell, he asked, "Grace? What are you doing here?"

"I, uh... I came for a drink. I was just leaving."

Looking up when he helped his wife firm on her feet, he noticed Victor, who was smiling. "Who is this?" he then asked.

Before Grace could answer, Victor took her hand and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm afraid she's with me?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You had your chance," Victor replied as he led Grace further to the door. "It's time to move on."

Victor continued to walk as Grace looked back. She saw his face grow red with anger and fear. As they got to the sidewalk, she could hear the crash of tables and glasses inside, followed with Oliver's shouts and screams. The sound was terrible. She pulled on Victor's hand to turn back, but he wouldn't budge. No matter how much she tried, she couldn't break free from his grip as he continued to walk forward, eyes straight ahead and unmoving.

"Oliver!" she yelled, praying he would hear her and come for her. "Oliver, it's not what you think! Oliver!" Falling to the ground, she begged, "Please let me go! Please! I never meant for this! Please! Listen to me! Let me go!" 

Victor didn't let go and kept moving forward, dragging Grace over the pavement as he walked.

"Oliver, help me! I need you, Oliver!"

"Oliver! Oliver!"

Oliver shot up. By the way Grace was screaming, he thought there was a fire. "What's the matter?!"

Not having quite woken herself, Grace cried again, "Oliver!"

Taking her arm, trying to shake her awake, he said, "I'm right here, Grace."

Several seconds later, Grace snapped out of her dream. For a moment, her crying came to a halt as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. When she figured out where she was, she broke into tears once more.

Holding her in his arms, hoping to ease her shaking, he asked, "What were you dreaming about?"

Grace didn't answer. She only continued to hang onto him as she wept. "I'm so sorry, Oliver."

"Sorry for what? Waking me?"

"No… I mean yes, but I mean… I'm just so sorry — for everything."

"We're working on it, remember?"

"I know, I'm sorry!"

"Why do you keep apologizing? You had a nightmare, that's all."

With a sob, she said, "I wish it was."

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head, "I'm sorry."

Growing frustrated, he said, "How am I supposed to forgive you if you won't even tell me why you're apologizing?"

"…I'm sorry." It was all she could say.

Deciding it was a losing battle, Oliver stopped trying to draw more out of her. He continued to hold her, trying to soothe her. It'd been a long time since something like this occurred. While Grace wasn't one to lead on to having a bad dream, there were other times and events which made her upset like this. It was strange not being the reason behind it… or was he? Why was she shouting his name? The way she did so was with fear. Did she dream she hurt him? It would explain her many apologies and the way she was hugging him. But what triggered it? It'd been a good three days since their last tiff. She must be coming down with something, he decided. She seemed fatigued all evening. The nightmare must have been a result of some ailment. He'd call a doctor in the morning if she didn't improve. For now, he was secretly happy to have an excuse to hold her.

. . .

Grace's mood didn't change the next day. She was tired, quiet, tense, irritable, and distracted. It took everything thing Oliver had not to get on her case about it. He was trying his hardest to be understanding. Why was it so difficult? It never was before. This brought back his wondering about what caused him to have fun at Grace's expense. Maybe fun wasn't the right word for this situation as he still didn't know what the reason was, but he knew he needed to be patient. It was all part of trying to work things out. Still, part of him longed for what he considered the easy way out. Although, after hearing her cry his name the way she had during the night, he wondered if she still loved him so much to sound so scared in hurting him, or leaving him, or losing him... whatever she dreamed. If only she would tell him.

When they woke, Oliver felt Grace's forehead to see if she showed signs of fever. She was warm, but it didn't appear to be in a sickly way. Once she opened her eyes, he asked how she was feeling. She said 'fine', though he didn't believe it. A doctor was mentioned but Grace turned him down, claiming her issue was being behind on sleep. Oliver didn't fight it, for he had no proof to dispute the claim.

Same as the previous day, Grace avoided Oliver as much she could during the earlier hours. She completed as many of her daily duties as she could manage. Other than that, she stood to the side. She knew Oliver wanted an explanation for last night. How could she tell him though? It wasn't the right time... but what if he put things together? He knew she wasn't herself yesterday, knew her sleep was rocky overnight, and once again she was doing her best to stay clear of him. This wasn't easy for her, either. All she wanted was to surround herself with Oliver. Victor needed to exit her mind, and she needed to be reminded of her family, as unstable as it may be at the time being.

It wasn't as though she was battling a continued attraction to him. She wasn't sure she really saw anything in him begin with. What drew her was his willingness to listen and the subtle comfort he gave. Anger toward Oliver and the influence of alcohol didn't do anything to slow her drive, either. Even with those influences, she would never understand why she went forward with it. No matter what rotten things Oliver might have done, nothing he did merited this sort of retaliation. Sometimes it felt as though she stayed with Victor to hurt Oliver, even though she did her best not to make it known. Then again, she also knew if she ever wanted to start fresh with Oliver, she would have no choice but to come clean. It wasn't fair to either of them to keep it in. On the other hand, she felt as though she did it for herself. It had been a long time since she felt cared for. Deep down she knew she was a mere conquest for Victor, but she stood a gain as well. For a single night in years, someone at least pretended to love her and held her with care. While Oliver must have a shred of love remaining for her, he wasn't showing it then. When he held her he held too tight. His hold was in anger, aggression, and fueled by physical desire rather than emotional. For these reasons, Grace knew almost anyone else would make her feel cared for. Well... at the time anyways. She knew she still had it pretty good with Oliver. She had to take into account that more wives than not had husbands such as Oliver. They were gone all day, if not days at a time. When they came home the looked for food, a drink or two, and couple for only themselves. On top of that, more than several of those women were treated poorly both physically and mentally. As bad as Grace found the mind games, she knew she was fortunate not to have bruises inflicted by him. Though, she did wonder if the mental pain took longer to heal.

Overall, she started to feel guilty for her past anger towards her husband. Was he right when he said she overreacted? She didn't know the personal lives of his colleagues and friends, but for all she knew, they treated their wives in similar ways of Oliver. It might make sense. What made matters so difficult with Oliver was the fact he wasn't like this to begin with. He was sweet, loving, gentle, caring... oh sure, he had his temper and disposition. Not once did she expect those to completely vanish. She just never expected then to take over as before. Only, this time they were different, and the story repeats.

In a way, she thought maybe seeing Victor again was a good thing. She might never have thought of these things in her own. While she believed she still had the right to fight for a change, she might not have been able to admit to her major faults (aside from her affair). It also helped her to see that maybe her situation wasn't so horrid after all. Oh, she thought, why couldn't she have had these thoughts sooner? Though, at this point, she wasn't sure if it would have changed her course of action.

Ultimately, it didn't matter. There was no 'what if' about it. What happened, happened and there was no changing it. The only thing she could do was figure out how to move forward. Telling Oliver was a must… but she still needed to feel like the time was right. Until then, she knew she needed to get her act together. Staying gloomy wasn't going to help anything progress. Lastly, she prayed Victor would leave her be.

Chapter Text

Seeing as Victor was Oliver's new client, there was no avoiding him completely. The next day was his next scheduled meeting at the house. Grace begged Oliver for the day off. He asked her several times why, but she never gave a firm answer. He knew she was still out of sorts but he needed her help with notes. So, he compromised. He gave her a partial day off. Much to Grace's chagrin, the time she was expected to work was during Victor's meeting. Hearing this frightened her more. The only time Oliver was this insistent on help for a meeting was with a big client. How awful it would be to sit there after their encounter. And after that dream! As uncomfortable as it was the first time, it was sure to be worse now.

And it was. Throughout the entire conference, Victor made sure to catch Grace's eye. Grace did her best to keep her eyes on Oliver or her notepad but she still saw him staring out of the corner of her eye. At one point she attempted to move seats. Soon enough, Victor did the same and ended up sitting closer to her.

What was safe to do? Oliver was the only man she'd ever truly been involved with. How was she to tell Victor to get lost? Of course, she didn't want to be so blunt. Remember, he had helped her through a rough time, as sleazy a way as it was. She didn't think he was a bad man. He seemed genuine when he said he'd thought about her. But surely he wasn't so infatuated that he'd try to pursue anything knowing she was trying to work things out with Oliver — and in his home.

When the meeting adjourned, Grace dashed out of the room without saying goodbye to the few people involved. This angered Oliver as her rudeness reflected on him. Sympathizing was one thing, but her elusive mood needed to come to an end.

Grace's initial plan was to run to her room, however, she heard footsteps not too far behind her. Unsure of whether or not they were Victor's, she decided to play it safe and try to stay out of sight while still in a place someone else may happen to walk by should Victor find her. What a mess, she thought again. None of this was meant to happen. Then again, who was she to complain? This was her own fault. No one but her got her into this mess. It wasn't a question of, 'why did Victor find her', or, 'why was she faced with him again'. The true question was, why did she spend the night with him in the first place?

She hung around the hallway near the kitchen. She figured he wouldn't follow so deep in the house. Several minutes passed as she waited. It would have been helpful had she known how long he and the other men would hang around. Sometimes they didn't leave for hours — or worse, they sometimes stayed for dinner. After Victor's leers during the meeting, she knew a dinner with him would be an absolute nightmare.

A few more minutes passed and then she heard the dreaded sound of footsteps. Grace held herself still after moving to a far corner, praying Victor would walk past her without notice. Her eyes locked on the doorway, unable to turn the other way. The feet grew closer and closer, and then made the turn, meaning Grace would likely be caught. The woman held her breath. She was stuck. If she moved now, she'd be spotted for sure.

Every bone in her body relaxed to the point of almost collapsing on the floor when she saw that the footsteps belonged to Molly. I should have known, she thought. In hindsight, the steps were too soft to be those of a grown man.

"Molly," she said. "What are you doing down here?"

"I'm getting a snack for me and Annie… are you hiding, Mrs. Warbucks?"

Leave it to kids to be so perceptive. "Hiding? Oh, no dear. I'm just… waiting for someone."

"Oh. Who?"

"No one in particular. Why don't you run along to the kitchen? I think Mrs. Pugh baked some cookies not too long ago. They may still be warm."

Molly smiled, "Thanks!"

Grace had a small grin on her face as she watched the little girl skip to her destination. How nice it would be to be 11 again. While it wasn't always fun and games, she certainly wouldn't be in the mess she was in now. There was no pressure to be married (yet), most boys were still obnoxious and of no use, and the biggest responsibility was school and chores. As an adult, she had the responsibility of work (not so much chores as other people did that for her), a child, a husband, issues with a husband, and now issues with a mistake. So basically, it was almost like being 11, only she couldn't get away with pushing them into the mud and walking away carefree.

"You're difficult to track down."

Grace gasped, nearly choking on her breath. "Victor, how did you find me?"

"I'll say it was like navigating through a maze," he winked. "I kept my eye on the prize."

Taking a step back, as he was standing close to her, she said, "I'm sorry to say that the prize isn't available."

"Aw, come on Grace. I thought we had something going back there."

"You had something going. I was trying to avoid it."

"How come?"

"I told you before, Oliver and I are trying to work things out. I never intended anything to happen on the side. It was a mistake. Now that you're associated with Oliver, I think it's best we forget what happened, and move forward with a vague, and professional acquaintanceship."

"I never forgot what you told me," he said, growing serious.

"Then why are you here?"

"I mean what you said when we first met. You were miserable. I find it hard to believe things are so much better now after such a short time."

"Not so short…" she said. "And even if so, it's not impossible. He and I have been to hell and back. A lot happened and our eyes were opened. I love Oliver and I know on some level he still loves me. I'm not ready to give up that love. I appreciate you being there for me that night. In a way, I think it helped me regain a commitment to Oliver. It has nothing to do with you personally. Maybe it needed to happen for me to appreciate Oliver more. If that's the case, then I am forever grateful. I'm sorry if I'm disappointing you. I never thought you'd still think of me after the fact."

Victor sighed, "I'm not going to lie. I was surprised myself by how often I thought of you. I don't think I could even pinpoint what exactly draws me in. What I do know is that you needed someone, and I liked the thought of being that person. I think you still need someone. If you were confident in your relationship with Oliver, you wouldn't look like you haven't slept in a week, you wouldn't be standing so tensely, and you wouldn't have been so distant and quiet during the meeting."

"First off, I was quiet in the meeting because it's not my place to speak. I'm only there to help keep organized. Second, you've got some nerve! How dare you say such things? You've only seen him and I together twice, and you've only known me personally for a night. You have no idea what our day to day life is. You happened to know me during a low moment."

"I also happen to know how angry he was when you left the office."

"Angry? Why was he angry?"

"He didn't say anything word for word, but he looked mad when you were gone. Then he apologized to everyone for your 'impolite departure'."

Unsure if she should believe Victor (though, it did seem to be something Oliver would do and say), she replied, "He's probably tired or hungry. He's always like that around this time of day."

"Either way, you deserve better."

"How would you know?" she asked. "You barely know me. For all you know I could have been lying the night I met you, saying Oliver was the one to be so awful when in actuality, it was me."

"Was it?"

"It might have been."

"I don't believe you."

Grace shook her head. "Believe what you want. The bottom line is that nothing more is going to happen between you and me."

Victor moved one step closer, this time taking her hand and holding on tighter when Grace tried pulling away. "Grace, I usually respect people's marriages, that is, happy marriages. I just don't believe what you're saying. If you were saying you loathed the sight of me, I would listen… but you're not. There's a sadness in your eyes when you say nothing further can happen. That same sadness shows when you say Oliver's name."

"You're wrong," she said, her voice shaking.

Taking her other hand now, he said, "Look me in the eyes, and tell me your future is firm with Oliver, and I promise, I will leave you alone."

Grace looked up at him. She forced herself to think of every good memory with Oliver. This part wasn't difficult. Many flooded into her brain, and soon enough she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. However, the smile soon faded and returned to a frown. Why did she have to make herself think of the good times? Why did she have to prove anything to this man? She didn't, really, but she did if she wanted him gone. She feared what might happen should her voice break, or her eye wander. What if Victor said something to Oliver? What would Oliver do to him, and then her? This one man could end her marriage for once and for all. The emotions came too much to bear. Her voice wasn't going to be strong, and her eyes weren't going to be clear. They filled with tears, and she looked down at her feet.

Victor couldn't help but feel sorry for her. It wasn't as though he wanted to see her end her marriage, not when he stood a gain from association with Oliver Warbucks. For whatever reason, he sensed something in Grace that normally would have gone unnoticed. He wanted her, and as long as he had a chance, he was going to go for it.

Grace waited for him to say something, gloat, anything. What he did instead surprise her. Freeing one of her hands, he guided her chin up. She looked straight into his eyes, hoping her voice, by some miracle, would sound convincing. It wasn't as though she didn't see a firm future. Yes, there was a level of uncertainty, but that uncertainty was Victor. She opened her mouth to speak. When she did, Victor leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss. Grace tried pulling away, but he slid his hand around to the back of her head to keep her still. While his hold wasn't tight, Grace kiss back, but she didn't move, either.

Victor parted, squeezed Grace's hand and then left her standing there without another word. Grace remained unmoving for almost a minute as she tried to process what had just occurred. Tears soon streamed down her eyes, and this was what woke her from her daze. Before anyone could see her, she ran to her room.

Unbeknown to Grace, she had already been spotted. Molly stood that the far end of the hallway, peering around the catty-corner, clenching the cookie plate in her hand. What was going on? Was Grace kissing that man? And why did he look so familiar? Whatever the situation might be, she knew it wasn't good. Once giving Grace a good head start away from this section of the house, Molly slowly made the walk back upstairs. All the way, she felt flutters in her stomach. …How am I going to tell Annie?

Chapter Text

By the time Molly returned to Annie's room, she wasn't sure if she should mention anything to her friend. For the first time in a long while, she seemed like her cheerful old self. As far as she knew, her parents were getting along much better. Telling her that her mother was kissing someone else could ruin everything. Alas, Molly was not good at keeping a secret…

"Molly, is everything all right?" Annie asked, taking her second cookie.

"Um, yeah. I'm fine. Things are fine," she babbled. "Why wouldn't things be fine when you said everything was fine?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing."

"Sure sounds like something. Come on, what is it? You were acting normal before you went downstairs. Did something happen?"

"Nothing happened."

Annie groaned. "Now I know something happened. Please, tell me. Were my parents fighting?"

With a strong and honest voice, Molly answered. "No, they weren't fighting."

"Well then, did they look like they just argued?"

"Nope, they weren't in the same room."

"So you saw one of them?"

Molly shrugged.

"Come on, Molly. Spill!"

"But I don't know if I saw it right."

"Saw what right?"

"What I saw!"

"What did you see?!" Annie hated to lose her temper with Molly of all people, but this beating around the bush was driving her crazy. She was waiting for the day Oliver and Grace would crumble again. Each day passed in fear the next would be that day.

"Well…" Molly sighed, wishing she'd been able to keep her mouth shut in the first place. "I told you if I don't know if I saw it right… but… I think I saw your mom…"

"…Saw my mom what?"

"She was… I think she was kissing some guy."

Annie's eyes widened. Fear rushed through her veins, but at the same time, she couldn't believe it. "You definitely saw it wrong."

"I don't know, Annie. Well, she didn't actually kiss him, he kissed her. I couldn't tell if she was trying to get away from him or not."

"Are you sure it wasn't my daddy?"

"He had hair."

"Oh… well, who was he then?"

"I don't know. I don't think I've seen him before, be he also looks kinda familiar. I don't know why."

"I thought you just went to the kitchen? Why were my mom and this guy there?"

"They were in the hallway."

"Are you sure it was my mom?"

"Yes. I saw her alone when I was getting the cookies, and I talked to her a little bit. She looked funny when she saw me. Her face was all red and she was breathing kinda fast. When I came back, I heard her talking to someone. I looked around the corner and watched them for a little bit. I didn't want to walk by them because they sounded like they were having a serious conversation."

"What were they saying?"

"I couldn't hear everything because of the echo. They were talking kind of quietly, too."

"Try and think!"

"Uhh, I think I heard something about your daddy and something about marriage and eyes."

"Gee, that's helpful," Annie said with blatant sarcasm in her voice.

"Don't be mad at me — I tried not to tell you!"

"Well obviously you wanted to, or you wouldn't have acted so weird when you came back here."

"I might not have seen it right!" Molly shouted. "They were far away. The only thing I know for sure is that your mom left crying after he was gone."

Annie looked at Molly for several seconds before looking up. "I don't believe you," she said.

"Why not?"

"Because Mommy would never do that. She wouldn't do it to Daddy and she wouldn't do it to me. You're just making up stories."

"I am not!"

"You are too!"

Now Molly rose to he feet in anger. "I'm going home! I just wanted to help you."

"Some help you are! You just wanna see my family fall apart even more than it already has."

"Why would I want to see that?"

"I don't know, but it's rotten of you to make up such a horrible lie."

Fighting back tears, Molly said, "You're mean, Annie Warbucks! I never wanna see you again. You've been different ever since you became a teenager. I want the old Annie back!"

Annie didn't respond. Turning her head toward the wall as she sat at the foot of her bed, she waited until she heard the door slam shut. Waiting a few more seconds for Molly to reach the stairs, Annie then stood up and took the picture she kept of her, Oliver, and Grace off of her dresser. She glared at her parents. Whether what Molly said was true or not, it was their fault they fought. Even if they weren't arguing so much in front of her, they were still making her emotionally miserable. With a whip of her arm, she threw the frame across the room, marveling at the sound of it shattering.

"We're supposed to be a family!"

. . .

As could be expected, Grace avoided Oliver for the rest of the day. While she hadn't been the one to kiss Victor, she hadn't tried hard enough to stop it, nor had she been able to say in certainty that the marital troubles would ease. The incredible pressure of the moment made her crumble. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before. Her entire life, she was used to being the girl men chose as an alternative. No one ever fawned over her and there was never a line of boys asking her to a dance. Oliver was the first to show such an interest. What Victor was displaying toward her made her nervous and unsure of how to move, yet at the same time, it made her feel good to know someone other than her husband was taken with her. These thoughts alone were dangerous. Should Victor carry on further trying to woo her away from Oliver, and if she wasn't careful, she could start falling for his game. Those thoughts recognized, she knew she needed to collect herself, her thoughts, and feel mixed up feelings before she went anywhere near Oliver. If what Victor said was true about him being angry for her running off, she was already in enough trouble.

It wasn't until 11 PM Grace saw Oliver or Annie for that matter. She steered clear of both of them for the rest of the day. She knew Annie would sense her distress, and she wanted to make sure her daughter didn't pick up on anything wrong. While she knew the day would come when she needed to come clean to Oliver, this was one matter where Annie needed to be spared no matter what. So that's why she didn't show for dinner. She didn't meet them in the car for the movies as was planned, and she didn't say goodnight to either of them. This avoidance is what prompted Oliver to go to her room that night.

With only a single knock and not waiting for a response, Oliver barged into the room to see Grace reclined on the bed and writing in her journal.

"Would you mind telling me where you've been all day?" he said, his tone laced with anger.

Slamming her diary shut and moving it underneath her pillow, she said, "I needed some time to myself. I'm sorry for my haste earlier and leaving without saying goodbye. I couldn't stay there any longer."

"I wish you would just tell me what's bothering you. This can't go on any longer. You made me look terrible."

"It wasn't my intention."

"You disappointed Annie, too. She thinks we're fighting because you didn't come to the movies."

"Did you assure her we weren't?"

"No, because I was angry with you as well."

Shaking her head, she said, "Again, it wasn't my intention and I apologize."

"What are we going to do about this?"

"I'm fine, all right?"

"No, it's not all right. You've been strange the past couple of days. I tried my best to sympathize last night, but as long as you're not telling me what's bothering you it's difficult. Please, tell me what's going on. What were you writing just now? I only ever see you write when you have a lot on your mind."

Grace looked up. She picked up journaling just within the past couple years. Rather, picked it back up. She wrote all the time when she was younger. When she started working for Oliver, she lost the time. Why was Oliver noticing a more recent habit? The past couple of years was the time he seemed to notice her the least. "How do you know?"

"I'm not as blind as you may think."

A small, but brief smile appeared. She then said, "I do have a lot on my mind, but I'd rather not talk about it."

"I thought we were working on our communication?" he said.

"We are… Look, I know it means a lot to you, but it's something I need to work out for myself first. I promise you, you'll find out soon enough." Though, you're going to wish you didn't.

"Shouldn't I be trying to help you?"

"Yes, and I appreciate it. Really I do. But right now I'm asking you to please let me deal with it alone for a little while. I promise you, I'll come to you when I need."

Oliver didn't like this. He was losing control. It wasn't as though he consciously wanted to overpower her, it was just his nature. His own preoccupation set in when he felt he was losing grip on any matter. He stood quiet for a moment. Grace was stiff, worrying about what he was going to do or say. He too looked tense, so when he eased, so did Grace. What he next did was not expected.

Once Grace averted her eyes from his direction, Oliver lunged forward and reached for the book underneath Grace's pillow. Why he was so desperate to know? He couldn't answer. This seemed like the only way at the moment. Or maybe he was finally snapping. It hadn't been easy trying to be so reasonable all the time.

"What are you doing?!" Grace yelled. It took a moment to move, she was in shock. If there was one thing Oliver didn't do, it was invading her privacy in such a way.

Clutching the book once it was in his hands, he said, "If you'd only tell me, I wouldn't have to do this."

When Oliver's hand came out from under the pillow, Grace grabbed hold of her diary and pulled with all her might. This was not going to be the way Oliver found out about her and Victor. She needed somewhere to get the thoughts out of her head. Was she really going to be forced to keep every bit of this to herself?

Oliver didn't let go. Most of him wanted to. He didn't know why he'd stoop to this level. It was the need to know that proved more powerful. "Let go!"

"No! It's my diary and you do not have my permission to read it."

"So it's about me then, is it?" He pulled harder.

"What's in there is my business, not yours. If I had an issue with you I wouldn't put it in there without trying to talk to you first." It wasn't the whole truth, but there was no matter focusing on him that she was worried he'd find.

"Just tell me!"

"Not when you're acting like this!"

Oliver's will grew stronger with this. It was the loss of control again. He gave another yank, this time getting the book out of the hands of its owner. It helped that Grace's nerves caused her hands to sweat. When the book slid away from her, the repercussion caused her to fall back on the bed. With a swift movement, she was back sitting upright and immediately broke into tears. This was it. He was going to find out about Victor, and anything she did to try to prevent it would make everything worse. She knew crying would only increase his curiosity to read, but she had no control. Given the hour, the events of the day, and her present fear, she was helpless.

Holding the book tightly in his hands, Oliver marveled in a silent victory. But when he heard Grace's tears, the better part of him started to take over. He looked down at the diary. All he needed to do was open to the last written page. He would be able to get to the bottom to Grace's strange behavior, and maybe be able to do something about it. Not so much for her sake, but his and everyone else. His hands shook as he started to open the binding. Grace now had her face buried in her pillow. Either she wrote something truly terrible, or she was being dramatic. He figured it was a mix of both at this point. Then again… Grace's fake tears didn't usually come with such intense hyperventilation. With a groan, he threw the diary to the side of him. He couldn't do it. While it was mostly for Grace's sake, he told himself he didn't want to know.

As much as it pained him to indulge this tantrum, he walked back over to the bed and sat. "I didn't read it, okay?"

Grace continued to cry, mumbling something into the pillow, but Oliver couldn't make sense of it.

"Shh, you're going to worry Annie."

Coming up for air, turning her head to the side, she said, "I can't help it. I just want this day to end."

"Why won't you tell me what's going on?"

"I told you I would when I worked it out for myself. Why can't you respect that wish?"

"Because it concerns me. I have to assume it's something negative about me. Why else would you react this way to my trying to read it?"

"I was shocked. You've never done something like this before. I also don't want you to read anything I have to tell you in writing. If I have something to say, I'm going to have a conversation about it. There's too much that could need explaining."

"You have me nervous, Grace."

She turned her face away from him again. Lying and saying that he had nothing to worry about wasn't an option. It wasn't fair to him at all, even after what just happened. In the end, he didn't read it, and she was proud more than relieved. Had this occurred only weeks ago, she'd still be hearing his reaction to what he read. "I'll tell you soon enough," she said with a sniff.

"Whatever it is, I do hope you will. I can't drive myself mad wondering what it is."

"I know you can't, and I'm sorry. I'll pull myself together by tomorrow."

"Please do, at least around the office."

Sitting up, she asked a few seconds later, "When is your next meeting?"

"Monday."

"With the same men from today?"

"Yes, why?"

"Just wondering."

"You'll have the weekend to recompose yourself."

"Great."

Their eyes met a moment, and then Grace looked away again. Another few seconds passed, and then Oliver asked, "Can I get a hint at least?"

"It has nothing to do with anything you've done."

That narrowed it down, he thought, but to what? "That's it?"

"You're lucky you go that much."

"Fine," he sighed.

"I'd like to get some sleep now."

He nodded. "All right." Standing, he started for the door but turned back as he heard Grace shuffle the covers. He took a step back, and said, "I'm… I'm sorry for taking your diary."

Grace looked to him, blown away by the apology. "Thank you." A faint smile tugged at her lips as she wiped her eyes with a tissue. "I'm sorry for breaking down."

"I suppose it was justified."

Again he turned, but Grace stopped him before he took a step. "Wait a minute."

"Yes?"

Setting down her damp pillow, she walked over to her husband. Placing a hand on his cheek, she looked into his eyes, trying to get a sense of where his mind was. Maybe now would be better than waiting. But after his impulsive move toward the journal, she feared something wasn't right with him tonight. What if he made a move toward her? Though, she almost wished he'd beat her for her actions. Maybe that would take away the intense guilt that plagued her. She opened her mouth just a bit, hoping words would spill out, but all the resulted was a silent breath. She frowned but tried not to be obvious. Now moving her eyes downward, she stared at his lips. Without much thought, she moved forward.

Oliver was surprised by the kiss. It took him several seconds, but he kissed her back. He didn't know why she'd want to kiss him right now. She objected to goodnight kisses most nights. Why now? He didn't want to question it though. Truth be told, he'd been having a hard time keeping away.

A minute passed before they parted. Grace made sure not to make eye contact, knowing if she did she would cry again. Even with bitter feelings, she felt something significant with Oliver. Since they hadn't been distracting themselves from their issues physically, any show of affection was beginning to regain meaning. Victor's kiss from earlier lacked so much of what she felt with Oliver. This proved to her that her anger toward him about anything was not stronger than her love for him. She never stopped loving him, even when she told him she hated him. She was merely suffering loss — the loss of what had been. It pained her to think she could lose it again when it seemed as though she may finally be getting him back.

"Goodnight, Oliver." Her voice shook as expected, and still refused to look back.

"…Goodnight, Grace."

Chapter Text

Oliver sat up in bed with a cigar. Now he was the one with insomnia. After leaving Grace's room, his mind began moving every which way. No matter what she said, he still found it strange she collapsed over a silly dairy. Yes, it was personal, but she acted as though he had knocked on the door in wearing a mask and carrying a knife. Nothing she may be hiding was worth such fear — and it was pure fear. He knew that side of her plenty well by now. She had a similar look in her eye as she had the night he said he wanted to divorce. He knew this curiosity was dangerous. Even now he still was tempted to go back and take a peek at what was written. But what if it really was something he didn't want to know? Then again, Grace did say that she was going to tell him, but who knows how much editing would be done beforehand?

He tried to put it all together. Maybe the message would be clearer if her change of mood hadn't been so sudden. He didn't think he was acting differently toward her. Not in a negative way, at least. He was trying hard to change for the better. He assumed she would have made direct mention if it was about his attitude. After all, she did say that the matter wasn't with him. She might be lying, but she seemed serious enough.

The previous night soon popped into his head. Her reaction to a nightmare was strange. He only remembered one instance when cried so loudly in her sleep and unable to calm down once awake. Even then he didn't remember her so upset. She calmed down pretty quickly, and only apologized a couple of times before drifting back to sleep. Last night was downright bizarre. Why was she screaming she was sorry? Did she do something? It almost didn't seem too far fetched… It would explain the panic when her diary was in his hands. Maybe she did something to anger him. But what? Wouldn't he have known by now? Did she break something valuable by accident? Did she destroy something of his in spite and he'd just forgotten an argument? Did she make a mistake at work? Did she say something rude to his new colleagues?

The last thought made him stop. Dots were starting to connect now. Her mood changed after the meeting a few days back. That night, or one soon after, was when she woke up in fright. Today she rushed out after the meeting at lightning speed. Come to think of it, she was acting strangely during the conference. He didn't think much of it at the time as she was acting strange anyway. Something had to have happened between her and one of the other men. Her temper sometimes had a short fuse. Someone must have approached her after the first meeting and she must have been trying to do something else and snapped. It's been known to happen with him, though, their situation was different. He had seen her snap at a staff member or two in the past though. It all made sense. Relief came over him. Was this all? He understood why she'd be so afraid to tell him. She knew these were important connections. Now all he had to figure out was who and he had to make up for whatever damage or annoyance was done.

For a moment, he thought about going back to Grace's room to tell her he was on to her but decided against it. She needed a rest. Come breakfast they could talk.

. . .

"Mom?"

"Yes, dear?" Grace said, halting her writing for the second time that night.

Annie walked into the room a bit further, undecided if she was relieved or dismayed that Grace was still awake. "What'cha doin'?"

Shutting her diary, the woman answered, "Just a bit of journaling." Seeing Annie's face in the closer light, she noticed the strain in her daughter's expression. "Is everything all right? Come to think of it, you didn't look so well during dinner."

Annie sighed as she sat at the foot of the bed. "Molly and I had a fight."

"Is that all?" she asked. Those kids were known to bicker.

"No, I mean we had a really bad fight. She said she never wanted to see me again and that I've changed since I became a teenager."

"That's understandable."

"You mean I really have changed?"

Scooting closer to Annie, Grace said, "I haven't noticed too much. At least not to your personality. You're still the cheery, energetic, playful, hopeful girl I fell in love with 5 years ago the instant I saw her peek her head out of the closet door."

Annie couldn't help a brief smile but soon turned serious again. "Molly doesn't seem to think so. Our fight wasn't even about that. It just came out at the end. She must have been thinking about it before now."

"There's a strange age difference right now, that's all. In a couple of years, it won't matter, especially with such a strong bond."

"You think so?"

"Yes," she nodded. "It's less noticeable to you right now, but Molly is seeing things from a different perspective. She sees you getting older faster than her. She hears your stories of school, learning subjects that might just be getting introduced to her. You can stay out longer than she can, and I'm sure your taste in things are different right now, too."

"Not really. I still enjoy playing with her. I might not play dolls on my own the way she does anymore but I like spending time with her. That's why I feel guilty. I don't want her feeling that way. But at the same time, I'm so mad at her that I don't want to care that I might never see her again."

"What on earth happened?"

Annie looked down. The conversation took a course of its own and she didn't get a chance to ask any subtle questions around the subject. She didn't want to believe Molly, but she knew the way life had been these days, the idea wasn't so ludicrous. Still, she had to give her mother the benefit of the doubt. She didn't want to ask her outright, however, she was too nervous to think of clever ways around it.

"Annie?"

"Well… she said something, and I don't know if she made it up or not."

"What did she say?"

"Well she might have thought she saw what she said, but she could be wrong."

"Why don't you tell me what she said, then maybe I can help you figure it out," Grace said.

Annie forced herself to look back to Grace. "You could tell me for sure."

"I could?"

"She said she…"

"What?"

"She said that she saw you kissing some guy… some guy who wasn't Daddy."

Grace's breath caught. Suddenly she felt as though every light in the world turned in her direction. This can't be happening.

No words needed to be spoken to give her an answer. By the complete panic that entered her mother's eyes, her worst fear was confirmed. Instead of sadness, Annie's emotions went straight to anger. "So she was telling the truth." She rose to her feet, starting to charge out of the room.

Grace, who had been frozen up until this point, swung her hand out and grabbed Annie's arm. "Annie, wait a minute," she choked.

"No!"

"Annie, I can explain." She smoothed her voice out as much as possible as she pulled her daughter back.

Annie fought for several seconds. She didn't want to hear it. How was she ever going to face Molly again? Let alone Grace. "I can't believe you'd do that to Daddy!"

"Annie, listen to me!"

Hearing a tone she seldom heard from this parent, Annie stopped her struggle, though, refused to sit as Grace wanted. "How can you possibly explain this?"

"First off, and I know this isn't any excuse, let me say that I was not the one who kissed him. He kissed me. I tried to fight it, but apparently not hard enough."

"Who is he?"

"That's not important."

"It is too important. Who is he?"

"He's an associate, all right?"

"No, it's not okay!"

"Annie, I know this is upsetting to you, but please, try and calm down."

"You expect me to calm down? I had the worst fight with Molly because of this. I called her a liar. I stuck up for you, saying such horrible things. She's never going to forgive me. I can't believe you!"

"I am so sorry, Annie. Truly I am. I never wanted this to get to you."

"Does Daddy know?"

"No… he doesn't. And I beg of you not to tell him." Keeping her voice steady was getting more and more difficult by the minute.

"There is no way I am keeping this dirty secret."

"I don't intend it to be a secret. I'm going to tell him, but I need to figure out the right time myself. This isn't going to be easy."

"That's what you get."

"I know," she said. "Not a day has gone by where I haven't beaten myself up over this and even after confessing to Oliver, I still will forever be pained with guilt."

Annie glanced at Grace through the side of her eye. Kissing another man wasn't good, but this suddenly sounded like more than a one-time ordeal. "What are you talking about? How many guys have you kissed?"

Realized she'd spoken too much, Grace tried backtracking. "Oh, just him."

"How often have you kissed him?"

"Not often…"

"But you've kissed him more than once," Annie said, staring Grace down with cold eyes and crossed arms.

Grace said through quivering lips, "I made a mistake, and that's all I'm going to say."

"But what does that mean?"

Grace shook her head. "I can't force you not to tell your father. I know this probably has a greater effect on you than it ever will on him."

"Oh yeah, like I can just walk up and tell him this. Thanks a lot. This is just one more thing I have to keep secret."

Once again, Annie tried to leave, but Grace cut her off. "What other secrets are you keeping?"

"Oh please. I have to pretend at school that everything is okay even though half of the people know it isn't. I feel bad if I'm ever having a problem and need to go to you or Dad because you're so busy with your issues. I'm tired of having to act every single day of my life. I have to pretend I'm not terrified of losing my family. I have to pretend I don't hear you yelling. I have to pretend that things are going to get better. Every day that hope shrinks. I had more hope when Rooster was about to drop me from a bridge. Now that I know you're sneaking around with some other guy… oh, forget it!" Pushing past Grace, she ran out of the room before she could be stopped again.

Grace stood in the middle of the room staring at the door. Despite the swells of emotion making her heart and stomach feeling as though they were going to burst, she didn't break down. Enough is enough, she thought… it was time to come clean. It wouldn't be easy and it probably wouldn't be the right time (then again, is there ever a good time to tell the person you love most that you've been unfaithful?), but it had to be now. As long as Annie knew, things would only turn to chaos. She knew Annie couldn't tell. What a horrible position to put someone so young. The child had enough of her own worries to have to take on those of two full-grown adults. The childishness stopped here. Yes, Oliver was going to yell and scream. Yes, he was probably going to tell her to leave and never speak to her again, but she refused to put her daughter through anymore torment — and that's exactly what it was.

Chapter Text

Grace stood in front of Oliver's closed door. Her hand was raised to knock but she froze, unable to carry out the motion. She was terrified. Downright terrified. She didn't want to lose Oliver, but she knew it was now or never. What if Annie did tell him? Or worse, what if Victor said something or made a move in front of Oliver? The news had to come from her and no one else.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to knock.

"Come in."

Grace had to take another moment before she could open the door. She thought he'd be asleep by now. She was counting on tiredness to filter the impending rage.

Before she could completely compose herself, the door opened for her.

"I said you could come in."

"Oh," she said. "Sorry."

"It's all right," he said, letting her into the room in front of him. "What brings you by?"

"I need to talk to you."

By the serious tone of her voice and her demeanor, he knew something was wrong. "What's wrong?"

"Do you still want to know what's bothering me?"

"Yes."

"Can we sit down?" she asked.

"Sure," he said, moving toward the sitting area.

While Oliver sat, Grace found herself pacing instead. "First, I want to say that I regret everything I'm about to tell you."

"Please Grace, don't beat around the bush. I think I know what you're going to say, and believe me, it's not worth this."

Grace stopped and gave him a quizzed look for a moment before saying, "I don't think you do know."

"Why is that?"

"Because you're awfully calm."

"I'm annoyed if I'm right, but it's over. We'll just have to smooth things over."

After several seconds, she asked with a raised eyebrow, "What do you think I'm talking about?"

"You're having an issue with one of the new associates, correct?"

"Well, I guess in a way… but-"

"See? It's not as big a deal as you're making it out to be."

"Oliver, there's more to it."

Oliver stood, moving toward her to take her hands. "So you lost your temper. No one's quit. We just have to make it up to him. Who is it anyway? I didn't get that far."

"Lost my temper? Where are you getting this idea?"

"I put everything together," he shrugged. "Your mood changed after the first meeting and you acted the strangest in the second. It explained why you left in such a hurry."

"And why do you think I lost my temper?"

"I didn't figure that out either. You can answer that for me."

Shaking her head, Grace led Oliver back over to his seat. "I didn't lose my temper. Well, maybe I did, but not in the way I think you're imagining."

"So, I'm wrong then?"

"I'm afraid so…"

His face grew long as fear entered him again. "Then what is it you want to tell me?"

Grace took a deep breath. She wanted to restate her regret but knew it wasn't fair to him while he looked so concerned. At the same time, she had to drag it out a little bit so she could figure out what to say. "I'm afraid you'll be more than angry when I tell you and I don't blame you for a second. I've wanted to tell you for some time now but I… I didn't know how. I've realized that there's never going to be a good time. For the sake of our family, I need to tell you now."

His voice turning grave, he said, "Tell me."

Grace nodded, accepting her doom. "Several weeks ago, you and I had a terrible argument. Do you remember?"

"I don't know. We've had so many of them."

"It was the one where I ran out of the house, and didn't come back until the next day."

"Yes?"

"I went to a bar that night, and I met a man who is now working with you. We shared a few drinks and talked. Actually, it was more than a few drinks on my end. I never drank so much in my entire life. I'm surprised I didn't get sick for days after."

Having a terrible feeling where this was headed, Oliver pleaded, "Please, what are you trying to say?"

Unable to keep a strong voice, Grace shook and said the words she had been dreading since it happened. "I spent the night with him." And with the statement finally free, she moved to the chair, where she collapsed into tears.

She waited for the scream and the lash, but what she got was worse: Silence. Utter silence. As much as she didn't want to, she looked up at him. She had to see where he was.

Oliver stared straight ahead. His face was untelling to what was going on inside his mind. He wasn't tense, nor did he look like he was about to strike. He was still.

"Oliver, please say something," Grace begged.

Without moving his head, he said, "What do you want me to say?"

"Yell at me, pester me… just say something."

"I don't have anything to say."

"You're not even going to ask who it was?"

"No. Because I'll strangle the man should I know."

"It wasn't his fault." She sniffed. "I mean, that's not to say I threw myself at him, but in the end, I agreed, and as far as you're concerned, the whole thing rests on my shoulders."

Oliver shook his head as he stood and moved to the other side of the room, his back turned to Grace. Grace sat quietly, allowing the space. This was not one of the reactions she anticipated, and it was far worse than she imagined. What was he thinking? Was he really going to hurt Victor?

Minutes passed without movement from either one of them. Grace worked again to hold back her tears but she was starting to lose the battle. This was when she chose to stand and walk over to Oliver with caution.

"I know it probably doesn't matter, but it was only the one time. And if it's any consolation, I've been sick about it ever since. There's just one more thing you should know…"

"Let me guess, you're pregnant?" A bitter tone started to sound.

"No, I'm not." For this she was thankful, too. "But he made it clear to me earlier that he wants to start — well, I suppose continue — something with me. I told him no over and over again, but he doesn't believe me when I say you and I are trying to work things out."

Turning around, voice rising, he said, "You told him of our troubles?"

Taking a step back, she said, "This was before I knew you'd be working with him. I needed somebody to talk to that night. I couldn't take it anymore. Since then I think we've been working things out, or we're at least trying. But I understand if I've undone any of it. I pray that by some miracle you can forgive me, though. I want to work through this as well. That's why I'm so scared about what this man has in store for me."

"What do you mean?"

"I suppose I need to tell you this as well… Annie is now aware of it."

"Annie knows?!" he yelled.

"I'm getting to that part, please hear me out."

"I don't know if I should."

At least this was what she had somewhat prepared for, she thought. "I know I don't deserve anything from you right now, but for Annie's sake, I'd like to explain what happened. I didn't want you to hear this from her."

"Why did you tell her?"

"It wasn't my plan. Unless she puts it together herself, as far as she knows I only kissed him."

"But I don't understand why you would bring that up out of the blue."

"I didn't. Now if you'd listen to me all the way through, you would get your answers faster."

"Go on," he said.

"He followed me when I left earlier, or found me when he left. I was trying to avoid him. I told him after the first meeting I wasn't interested but I didn't trust him. And I was right not to. I was waiting in the hall toward the kitchen until I thought it was safe to go back into the regular parts of the house. I don't know how he found me but he did. This was when I kept telling him nothing more was going to happen between him and me. He wouldn't accept it. I was so nervous by the end of our conversation that I couldn't speak and look him in the eyes and tell him to get lost. He took this opportunity to kiss me. Unfortunately, Molly spotted this. She'd gone to the kitchen just before he found me. Of course, she told Annie and this resulted in a huge right between the girls. That's why Annie came to me. She didn't want to believe it. I couldn't just pretend I wasn't at fault. I told her what Molly said was true and I assured her it was just this one man and no one else like she presumed. And that's why Annie knows. I originally told her not to tell you… but I took it back. I don't want her to be the keeper of secrets. Before she left she said she was tired of having to pretend everything is okay. I feel terrible. I never wanted this for her."

"Neither did I."

Feeling as though the comment was directed at her, she frowned and said, "Would you like me to leave?"

"If you want."

"Do you want me to?"

"I don't know."

"Are we talking about leaving the room for leaving for good?" she choked.

"I don't know that either."

"Please Oliver," she cried. "I can't bear a prolonged worry about where I stand in this household. I know I don't deserve any easy ways out but I know I'll go mad. I will never be able to apologize enough to you about what happened. I know that I'll never forgive myself, either. Just know that whatever you decide, I love you. Despite what might have said over time, I never stopped. I never meant to hurt you. I don't know why I did what I did. I wish I had an answer. I've tried coming up with excuses, but ultimately, I have none. At the time I was feeling hurt and I found solace in the wrong person. Nothing you've ever done merited such a horrible recourse."

"Are you done?"

"I know I'm babbling. I'm terrified to hear your response."

Turning around completely, he said, "I don't want to say anything more tonight. We can talk about this tomorrow. Goodnight."

At this, all Grace could do was nod. "Goodnight…"

Chapter Text

It was no surprise the next morning when the three Warbucks family members arrived at the breakfast table weary. Not one of them had a sound sleep — if at all. Annie avoided her mother as best as she could. Instead of sitting in her usual seat across from her, she moved her chair closer to Oliver, feigning interest in the morning paper. Grace knew she couldn't be hurt by this. Annie had every right to feel this way. As much as she wanted, she didn't tell her over the meal that she'd confessed to Oliver. One, because she didn't want anyone else to overhear. Two, because she didn't want to mention it in front of Oliver again. At least not right now. She decided to wait a while to see if he brought up the topic. If not by the end of the day, she'd have to decide then what to do. This plan might have work, had it not been for a phone call as the dishes were being cleared.

"Telephone for you, Mrs. Warbucks," Drake said as he held the receiver in his hand.

"Who is it?" she asked, not in the mood to speak to anyone. She assumed it was one of the women from her book club asking why she'd been a no-show last night.

"Mr. Bailey."

Grace felt Oliver's eyes suddenly upon her and she did her best not to give any sort of reaction. As long as he said he didn't want to know the man she was going to respect the wish. Now all she had to do was explain this unusual phone call.

She stood and walked over to Drake, taking the phone from him and answering. "Hello?"

"Hi, Grace… it's Victor."

"Yes?" she replied, hoping to make this sound like a professional call.

"Oliver is around, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Don't worry, I'm just telephoning to apologize for yesterday. It was an insensitive thing to do. I hope you'll forgive me. I don't want you to think that's all I want from you."

"Thank you, I'll let him know."

"Ah, I see. You're covering."

Without an answer, Grace hung up.

"What was that about?" Oliver asked with more than a suspicious tone.

"Mr. Bailey wants you to know he'll be a bit late to the meeting on Monday."

"That's all? Why did he call you and not me?"

She shrugged. "Perhaps he assumed you were working."

"Okay…"

Great, she thought. Now he was going to keep a close eye on Victor. Was she now going to have to tell Victor that he knows? The only plus would be that maybe it would be just the thing to get him off her back. None of this should have happened. It wasn't as though she was the first person in the world to have an affair. Why was all this happening to her? What about those men who cheat on their wives with every other woman they can find? Do they ever reenter their lives when they want to move forward?

The rest of the day went without confrontation. Grace searched for a time to speak with Annie but she kept busy until lunch and then went over to a friend's house. On the one hand Grace was happy about this. Now maybe Oliver would say something to her without worrying about dragging Annie into the middle. However, Oliver didn't appear to have an interest in talking. In fact, he refused Grace's help today. She tried a few times to return to the office but it resulted in the door being locked. It didn't open until well after dinner.

This wasn't good. Not that she expected any warm feelings from him for quite some time, but she was worried. What if he only became angrier? What if one day she was locked out completely? The reality was that she deserved that to happen, but she hoped to at least talk to him more about it first. What was she going to do?

She sat outside for a while after dark. Annie still wasn't home, Oliver was held up in the library. Even Sandy didn't want to spend time with her. You know you're in deep water when an energetic mutt refuses a walk. The mix of emotions was starting to takes its toll. What the most prominent was, she couldn't tell. She was scared, but not to tears. She was sad, but not weeping. She was confused, yet she could make sense of most of her thoughts. When it came down to it, all she knew was that she was numb. On top of the numbness was an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. There was no one to turn to. At least, no one on Earth. She soon found herself idly praying, though she didn't feel as though she had any right to be heard. She begged for forgiveness and for a chance to make things right.

The only thing bringing her joy right now were the bright stars that appeared as night fell. Even then they made her think of the nights early on in her marriage when she and Oliver stroll through the gardens for hours talking. Those days were long over. Simple conversations were perhaps the hardest for them to maintain. Sometimes it felt as though they didn't have anything in common. Yet, they'd done everything together. Aside from their tastes in wine, they enjoyed the same things. Now he would probably despise anything she liked solely because of her. Again, he had a right. How could she have done such a thing? Never did she dream of being with another man.

She thought back on the call from Victor this morning. Everything aside, she supposed it was nice of him to apologize. But did he mean it? If he were really sorry, and if he really cared about her, wouldn't he leave her alone as she requested? Or was he doing the right thing by fighting? How had she of all people get into this predicament? The same girl who was the last to be asked out in school was now the object of battle between two men (more or less). Who would win? She hoped it would be Oliver. If he lost, so would she. She hadn't gone this far through their struggles to admit defeat. As long as she had a chance, she was going to fight. Now I sound like Victor…

Some more time passed, and then her attention strayed from her thoughts and focused on the sound of footsteps. At first, she couldn't tell where they were coming from. They were inside the house for sure, but she was unclear about the destination. Whenever she thought someone was behind her, she'd turn to see no one was there. As she was sitting on the stairs learning to the fountain, there was nowhere for anyone to hide once they noticed her turn. She figured it must be Drake or one of the maids, though they sounded lighter. Every time she decided to give up her wondering, they began again. Having had enough of what now seemed like a game, she swung around and asked, "Is someone here?"

Out from the shadows came Duffy, looking nervous. "Good evening, Mrs. Warbucks."

"Oh, Duffy... Good evening. What are you doing here? If you're looking for Annie, I'm afraid she isn't home yet."

"I know, she and I went over to Betsy's house today."

A sudden panic coming over her, Grace rose to her feet. "Annie's all right, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Duffy answered. "I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"She isn't hurt."

"Oh my goodness, what's happened? Tell me."

"She's just upset," she said.

"Did she tell you… anything?"

"Depends on what anything is."

"Come here," Grace said as she placed her hand on Duffy's back, leading her to the patio chairs. As they both sat, Grace continued. "What did Annie say to you? I promise I won't be mad."

Duffy sighed. "She said that because of you and Mr. Warbucks, Molly won't speak to her."

"Is that all?"

"More or less," Duffy said, her tone saying she wasn't saying any more.

"Where is she now?"

"At my house. She sent me here to let you know that she's staying the night."

"Why didn't she call?"

"Um…"

"She wanted you to see if Mr. Warbucks and I were fighting, didn't she?"

"No," she answered in a high voice. "The phone at my house is, uh, broken. She didn't want to come here because she's still mad."

"It's okay, Duffy. You don't have to cover."

The girl sighed. "Okay, okay. But are you?"

"Fighting?"

"Yes…"

"No, we're not." Not exactly.

"Okay." Standing up, ready to escape the awkward atmosphere, she said, "I guess I'll be going now."

"Wait," Grace said. "Does Annie need an overnight bag?"

"She has one."

"Oh."

"Goodnight, Mrs. Warbucks."

"Goodnight. And could you please tell Annie… I don't know how to put this. I guess, just tell her I've spoken to her father."

Duffy nodded, semi-aware of what Grace might be referring to. "All right."

"Thank you, dear."

After Duffy was gone, Grace slumped into her chair. Well, she could add this humiliation to the list of what she was feeling. While it was no surprise Annie said something to her friends, she didn't expect she'd have to face them one on one around the subject. She felt terrible for Annie. This was just one more mess she didn't need to be in. How could she and Oliver let their issues go on for so long? How were they so blind to their child? Not just their child, the child they agreed to take in and love. They turned her dream into another nightmare. What were they teaching her about love? That it was good for a short time and then it becomes miserable? Love was so wonderful… there had to be some way to get it back. That's not to say love was clean 100% of the time. There would always be bumps. It's just that in the Warbucks' case, they neglected those bumps for far too long. Stubbornness triumphed over heart, and the thought made Grace sick to her stomach.

Upon hearing the clock chime nine, Grace decided to go back into the house. She hoped Oliver would be out of his office, or at least unlock the door. She waited for him to approach her, but now it was time for her to initiate their much-needed discussion. It wouldn't be easy, that's for sure. Where was she to start? It was difficult not knowing where his emotions stood. He seemed bitter this morning, but not bitter enough to eat alone. Maybe he did so for Annie's sake, but he also knew that she was aware of the situation. All the more reason to talk to him, she decided just as she reached the library door. Earlier she heard him latch himself behind the bay doors.

When she arrived, she saw that the doors were open. Strange, she thought. He usually didn't leave until he devoured an entire book. With little time to read, he tended to do it all at once. He read fast, but not that fast. Maybe Duffy had stumbled across him and distracted him. Next, she rushed to the office. His door was shut, but when she sneaked in, he wasn't around. After checking the study, the front yard, the dining room, the family room, and even the kitchen, she went upstairs to his room. Arriving at the door, she pressed her ear up against it to listen for any movement inside. She couldn't hear anything but her heartbeat. Kneeling down to the keyhole, she squinted to see if there was any light. As far as she could tell there was. Being as quiet as possible, she turned to knob. When it turned and the door opened, she stood up and proceeded with caution.

"Oliver, are you in here?" she called when she didn't see him.

"I'm in the tub," he called back from the adjoining bathroom.

This would either work to her advantage or disadvantage. Walking closer to the ajar doorway, she said, "I'd like to talk to you."

"About what?"

"Please, don't do this Oliver. You know very well what needs to be discussed."

"Like I said last night. I have nothing to say. I'm just glad you told me before someone else did."

"Why haven't you lashed out at me? I've spilled my tea with a greater reaction than this. We need to work this out."

"There's nothing to work out. You had relations with another man. End of story."

"It's not the end though. I want to make it up to you. I know there probably isn't a way to do this, but I get a chance to try, don't I?"

Oliver was silent. All Grace could hear was the gentle swish of water but not indicating that he was getting out.

"Speak to me, Oliver. Please."

No answer.

"If you're not going to come out here, I'm coming in there."

Again, no answer.

Sticking to her word, she pushed the door open. She was greeted by Oliver half underneath a pile of bubbles with his eyes closed. Water covered his ears so it couldn't hear her.

Taking a cold glass of water that was sitting on the side of the sink, she dumped it on his head. Startled, he jumped and accidentally inhaled a bit of water.

After a coughing fit, he quipped, "So now you're trying to kill me?"

"No, I was trying to get your attention. You had to have noticed me come in here. Now I want you to listen to me."

"I've done enough listening. If you want any chance of a future in this house you will give me some space."

"And how long will that last? I understand and respect that you don't want me around right now but the reality is the longer we put off any confrontations on the matter, the harder it's going to be. I speak from experience."

"It seems pretty pointless to tell you how angry I am with you. I think that can be assumed."

"Why are you angry?"

Eyes widened, he said, "That is the most moronic question I have ever been asked in my entire life."

Grace rolled her eyes. "I know why you're mad but I want you to tell me outright."

"You had an affair!"

"And?"

"There is no 'and'. The statement speaks for itself. Now if you don't mind, get out of here and let me finish my bath. I don't wish to talk about this anymore. I'm not going to let you dictate and write how this entire discussion is going to go. I know what I need to say to you, and I'll say it when I want to say it."

"I wish you would say it now. Like I just said, the longer it sits, the worse it will get."

"You are the last person I want to hear rationalization from right now. Now get out!"

"I'm not leaving." Grace hadn't the faintest idea why she was fighting him. The last thing she needed was for him to be more angry with her — and more un-trusting.

"Fine," he said. "Then I will."

As he reached for his towel on the bar over the bathtub, Grace swooped in, grabbing it before him. She tossed it aside, then shut the bathroom door and latching it shut.

"You've gone mad. Absolutely mad." He said, sinking under the water again.

"Maybe I have. I know you don't owe me any kindness right now… but I… I don't know what I'm trying to say." Her emotions came to the surface as she finished. "I'm terrified. I don't know how I let myself do something so terrible. I hate myself for it, I really do. I mean it when I say I'll do anything for you to forgive me."

"There is no possible way to make up for this. Do you know what humiliation is ahead of me? The word is going to get out as long as he's someone I'm working with. Women aren't the only gossips you know. It wouldn't surprise me if everyone in the group was already aware. How foolish I look to be the last to know."

"I am so sorry. I had no way of knowing you'd be associated with him. It wasn't until he saw me again that he realized who I was. I'm not trying to justify anything, I just want you to know it was never supposed to relate."

"I would still be humiliated. I have to go on the rest of my life knowing you found the need to be with someone else."

Kneeling at the side of the tub, taking hold of his arm, she continued to cry. "I never set out for it to happen. I felt good being able to talk to someone willing to listen. I don't remember what that fight was about exactly, but I do remember a major part of my frustration being that you were dismissing everything I said. I can't talk to Annie about these things, nor anyone in the staff. I won't even speak to friends because I know they're our issues, no one else's. There's too much at stake. Somehow I found it all right to open up to a stranger. I didn't use your name, and to be honest, I was naive enough not to realize he was listening because he stood a gain. It wasn't until he asked if I had a place to sleep that I started catching on. Why I didn't run then, I'll never know. I felt guilty the entire time... yet at the same time…"

"What?"

"…at the same time it was wonderful to be with someone without anger. When was the last time we made love without there being bittiness in the air? It seemed to have become one-sided — whoever was angrier. I've missed you in that way. But with or without the anger, it wasn't the same with Victor."

In an instant, she realized she'd said the name. Covering her mouth, her eyes grew wide with fear. She waited several seconds in silence until he blasted her.

"I knew it! I knew it the moment you took that phone call this morning!"

"Oliver, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say anything. It slipped out. Please, Oliver, I'm sorry."

"What's worse is that you tried covering it up. He didn't mention anything about me, did he? And yet you said you would tell me something. So you two have your own sort of code, have you?"

"I promise you, it's not as bad as it might seem."

"Not as bad as it might seem?" he repeated. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

She opened her mouth to speak, ready to say he could trust her. Then she realized that he had no reason. While he might understand if she explained in a calmer moment, he wouldn't hear it now.

"That's what I thought," he said when she failed to speak.

She hunched over as sobs escaped her. She buried her face in her hands and tried to say she was telling the truth but she couldn't form the words.

Oliver ignored this, assuming it was a mere ploy to gain sympathy. He sat up again, successfully rising to his feet this time. He got out of the tub and over to where Grace threw the towel. He struggled with the lock for a few seconds as his hands were dripping wet. But he was determined. Grace didn't move from her spot on the floor, even when the splashed and dripped bath water started soaking through her shirt. She couldn't move. All she could see was dark. If someone had asked, she probably wouldn't have been able to tell them where she was. The only other time she could remember feeling this was back in the hospital. In a way, she supposed the situations where similar. As they had there, they seemed to be discussing things calmly. While calm wasn't the most fitting word to describe this situation, Oliver didn't react with his typical eruption. But now he was starting to show his anger — as he should. Though, it was the stubbornness that frustrated her to no end. On one hand, she knew it was his need for control, on the other, she couldn't bear a delay.

Whether the two instances had any relation at all, Grace ended up feeling the same. A heavy exhaustion swept over her. Her vision grew even darker. She felt dizzy and nauseous as well. Without thought of the cold and wet tile, she leaned over and rested her head on a small pile of laundry Oliver neglected to put in the hamper. Her weeps came to a stop, and she fell into a deep and sudden sleep.

Chapter Text

Oliver noticed the peculiar halt in her crying. What was stranger was the lack of movement. If she were faking, she wouldn't stick around long enough to admit it. It was funny how silence could be louder than a scream sometimes. He tried to ignore the quiet as he changed into his pajamas. A few more minutes passed and still nothing. He hated himself for his concern. He was letting himself fall into a trap. He wanted so much not to care.

When he walked in, he saw Grace reclined on the floor. His initial thought was that she'd fainted but she looked too positioned to have just fallen over.

"Grace?" He nudged her arm with his foot. "If this is a joke, I'm not finding the amusement."

She didn't respond verbally, however, she did shift.

"Grace, get up," he said, a bit louder in attempts to wake her.

She let in a deep breath. "I need to rest my eyes for a few minutes." Her words were jumbled together but Oliver was able to make out what she was saying.

"You can't sleep on the bathroom floor."

She ignored him.

Oliver grumbled. Even when he was furious and hurt by her, when the chips were down, he couldn't fight the instinct to care for her. He did remember her this way from the hospital with Annie. Bending over, he took her hand, tugging on her arm hoping she'd cooperate with him. While he was able to carry her weight, he didn't think he'd manage to pull her completely up from the floor. "Grace, you need to stand just for a minute."

"I'm too tired," she moaned, her eyes opened a slight bit.

"You can stand for a few seconds."

"No," she whined.

"Do you want me to go get Punjab and The Asp?"

"No," she said.

"Then you need to work with me. Give me your hand and I'm going to pull you up."

"Why are you trying to help me? I deserve to sleep on a wet floor."

"Don't you dare start with the self-pity. You are not the victim here."

"Please, just let me sleep."

Not willing to go through this back and forth all night, Oliver bent over again, this time taking hold of his wife's arm, and he demanded, "Grace, give me your hand."

At last, she gave in, mostly concerned he was going to hurt her somehow. It took everything she had, but with his help, she was able to get to her feet.

"Can you walk?" he asked.

"I'm not sure."

"Try." He kept his arm held out for her.

Grace tried her hardest, only getting two steps ahead. Her legs shook, knees slowly buckling. Oliver caught her before she hit the ground, lifting her and carrying her over to the bed.

Grace held onto him as tightly as she could manage. It wasn't much, but it was something. Though her mind was foggy, she kept wondering how she would ever prove to him how much she really loved him and how sorry she was. Another question was, why was he setting her down in this bed?

"Why aren't you bringing me to my room?"

"I want you here."

"Why?"

"Because…" He finished with a small and embarrassed voice, "I'm worried about you."

"But why," she sounded a bit more awake now. "Why aren't you beating me for what I've done?"

"Have I ever hit you?" He asked with annoyance.

"No… but it's a good time to start."

"It's Victor I want to beat. I can rant and rave at you later."

"Please don't hurt him, Oliver." She sat up a slight bit. "It will only bring negative attention to you. I don't trust him not to exploit the situation."

"And you trust him not to tell of your tryst?"

"I guess I didn't think of that… at least not much. I'm afraid he's more concerned with pursuing a further relationship with me at the moment to be thinking of the press."

Any calmness Oliver was showing disappeared. His face grew red and his fists were balled up tight. Under his breath, he growled something which sounded an awful lot to Grace like, "I'll kill the man."

Tears fell from the woman's eyes again. "I need your help. I want him to leave me alone. He's been messing with my head. I don't know how to handle this." In her last words, her voice grew sleepy again.

Giving her a light shake to keep her awake, Oliver said, "What do you expect me to do? I'm serious, I'm going to hurt that man if I see him face to face. I don't care what the repercussions are. I'll obviously never know the full story. I can't believe any of it as it is. There is no way I can figure out the actual truth no matter who tells me. Whether you threw yourself at him or he at you, I want to get even."

"It will only cause trouble. I don't want any more drama. I want to forget this ever happened."

"Well…" he breathed. "I'm not sure if I can."

By the tone of his voice, Grace knew he was no longer talking about Victor.

With all her might, she tried to hold back any cries. She didn't want his sympathy. She wanted to run away. Hurting someone she loved and cared for so deeply was the worst feeling she'd ever experienced. In all honesty, she didn't feel like she should be in the same house with him anymore. She felt guilty for not telling him sooner. Maybe if she had the reaction might have been different. Maybe if Victor had never set foot into the mansion, forgetting would have been a little bit easier.

Her body shook whenever a sob came to surface. Steadying her breath was a lost cause and she knew Oliver was watching off and on and could see the tears glisten down her cheeks. Small whimpers escaped her as well. Had she the strength, she would have left long before now. And with what happened within the next few seconds, she wished she had found that strength, for what she had to witness was by far the worst thing she'd ever seen.

Oliver hunched over, shaking, and burying his face in his hands. A sob of his own escaped him and the sound he made was one neither of them expected. Following this gasp of air was another, and then another until the sobs turned into wails. Seeing him this way forced Grace to be strong. Sitting up and swinging her legs over the side of the bed and landing her feet on the floor, she walked around to the other side of the bed in order to face him directly.

"Oliver? Are you going to be okay?" She asked with great strain in her voice.

"I… I don't know." He continued to gasp for air into his hands.

"You're going to pass out if you don't calm down and breath." With shaky hands she reached for his, pulling them away from his face when she had a hold.

The sight of his face was horrifying. He was white. Tears and sweat dripped down his face, soaking wet. His eyes were bloodshot, and beneath them were dark and puffy circles. He tried to pull his hands away from her but now he had even less strength than she did to begin with.

Knowing she couldn't think straight enough to soothe him, she slid her hands up to his shoulders and helped lay him down on the bed. "You need to try and relax for your own good."

Oliver shook his head. "It's no use."

"You need to try." It was strange how fast the tables turned. Not ten minutes ago he spoke to her in the same tone.

Slowly, the hyperventilating slowed, but it was replaced by more sobs. "I've failed you."

"Don't say that." She couldn't keep her cries back anymore. "I'm the one who's failed you."

"I drove you to this. I've thought of this happening. I convinced myself it never would. It was my fault. How could I expect you to do anything differently?"

Walking back around to her side, Grace crawled into bed and moved close to Oliver. Reaching her hand out, she ran it over his tear-soaked cheek. "No matter what happened leading up to it, it was my error giving into him. I shouldn't have done it and I knew then what I was doing was terrible. I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I didn't leave when I could. I meant it when I said I've hated myself ever since. I don't deserve you. Yes, we've had our problems, and yes, I've had my issues with you, but no matter how hard I try I can never take back my actions. I know I came in here begging for forgiveness," she choked. "But I don't expect you to. What I've done is despicable and I don't know what's happening because of it."

"I don't know what's happening, either. All of a sudden I've lost you."

Grace buried her face in the crook of his neck. Her arms and legs went numb and she was dizzy from her endless sobbing. "This is everything I've feared most," she mumbled into his shoulder.

"Me too."

"What going to happen to us?" she asked, bringing her head up for air.

"I don't know," he said with a weep. "But I'm scared."

"So am I. I don't remember a time I was more scared."

A few minutes then passed with nothing more being said. Neither of their tears seemed to slow right away. When they did it was only out of pure exhaustion. They held onto each other fearing what would happen should they let go. It felt as though they were sinking on a boat, as though they were merely waiting for the rough sea to consume them. There was no telling what tomorrow was going to bring. What would happen when they woke? They would have to face each other in the light of day. At least at night, the shadows could conceal them. No one was around to witness their fears… but that all would change the minute dawn came.

"Oliver…" Grace said with a dry and scratchy voice. "I need you to know something. What's more, is I need you to trust that I mean what I'm going to say."

"What is it?" He questioned in a voice as rough as hers.

"I love you. Through all of this, I've never stopped. I say this again because I need you to know it's the truth. Even those times I said I hated you, deep down I didn't mean it. I only ever hated what we became. Despite all of this, you and Annie are the best things to ever happen to me. Through all of this, I've been so scared to lose both of you because I know I will have to be the one to go… I guess I created what I feared." With a sniff, she finished, "My point is… well, I don't know what's going to happen, and I want you to know that no matter what, I will always love you and I'll always be here for you even if we're miles apart and haven't spoken in years. I don't want to lose you… but if a divorce is what you want, I will accept it without a fight. I'm so sorry for how I've hurt you. I hope when you look back on me, you'll remember the happy times we've had together."

Turning on his side, Oliver searched for her eyes. They were cast low, nearly hidden by the sleeve of her blouse. Reaching his hand up, he guided her chin so she would meet his eye. She looked at him and he noticed something was off. Even though her stare was direct, she looked empty and tired. He continued to look at her for several seconds and then slid his hand to the side of her head. He stroked her ear with his thumb, soon whispering, "Grace?"

"Yes?" she replied, a couple more tears falling, feeling certain she was going to hear here terrors confirmed.

But he didn't tell her to leave. He didn't tell her this was the end. Instead, he pressed his lips to hers, holding her tightly against him with what little might he had.

He was still kissing her when she asked, "What are you doing? Why are…" she trailed off, leaving him the opportunity to kiss her more thoroughly. Now she twined her arms around him, too, kissing him back and running her hand over his shoulder.

"I don't want to talk tonight," Oliver eventually said, starting to trail his kisses over her cheeks and down to her neck.

Grace knew where they were headed was dangerous. It wouldn't be unlikely for him to sing an opposite song tomorrow. Was this renewing their commitment to one another? Was he forgiving her? Was he doing this in spite of Victor? Was there something he needed to prove? Was this goodbye? There was no telling, and she knew if she asked, she'd cause a whole new mess. Her mind was too tired to sift through all of these questions to figure out the truth. What she knew right now was that she missed Oliver. He hadn't treated her this way in so long. He wasn't trying to dominate her and prove he was stronger by kissing her until her teeth were sore. He was loving and careful with every touch. When he ran his fingers through her hair, he didn't pull. Not that he ever grabbed it on purpose, but he was so rough that it would get caught and tangled. She felt loved by him right now. How he could manage this, she'd never know. Whether it was love or farewell, she couldn't bring herself to pull away. If this was to be her last moment with him she needed to take it. Tugging on the collar of his nightshirt, she signaled for him to tilt his head up. When he did, she kissed him, showing her agreement in silence.

Chapter Text

Grace laid awake, her head resting on his chest as it rose and fell with each breath. It was steady, though not steady enough to tell if he was asleep or not. She didn't care either way right now. Half an hour ago she'd seen the Oliver she knew early in their marriage. Her confusion ran rampant. He didn't give any implication to his intentions behind their lovemaking. As tempted as she was to ask, she decided against it not wanting to give up the strange peace she felt. This was how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to feel safe in the arms of her husband, not threatened. How could she feel safe now, though? He knew everything that happened with Victor. Why hadn't he been rough with her? Why hadn't he turned around and slapped her? Why hadn't he tricked her into this vulnerability and use it to embarrass her? All of it was deserved.

Idly, she ran her fingers up and down his side. He had one arm draped tightly around her and sometimes felt as though he slowly clung on more. Not in an aggressive way. Not in the slightest. She couldn't remember the last time they rested this way. Now and then he'd loosely have his arm around her for a couple of minutes without much thought, but soon he would roll on his side and not move until morning. Grace forgot what it was like to lay so close to him, that night in the hospital aside. It pained her to know in the back of her mind that this might very well be the last sleep with him. What made it worse was knowing it could have been avoided had she not messed around with Victor.

Victor. That was another thought troubling her. Now that Oliver knew, what would his response to the man be? No doubt there would be a confrontation, especially where Victor was an associate. Even worse, he was an associate that came after the affair and wanted to peruse it further after the realization of who she was. Given his ultimate response tonight, she almost feared for the man's life. Not that her thoughts were high of him these days.

Eventually, she drifted off to sleep. It wasn't sound yet it was deep given her exhaustion. Her dreams didn't provide much comfort. While the pictures weren't clear, the emotions were. She was terrified of what morning would bring. And what after? If he told her to leave, where would she go? He didn't pay her anymore. Some of her previous salary was tucked away but most she'd given to charities upon marrying Oliver. There was no need for her to be on a payroll. He'd made it clear from the beginning that what was his was hers as well. She worked as she had before, only now allowing herself to wander off when she needed to tend to Annie. Those days seemed fewer and fewer lately. She'd grown up fast. This was something every adult in the house anticipated from the start. And yet it took them all by surprise. Annie, of course, was another reason she didn't want to leave. Blood or not, she was her daughter. How could she have let her down? The child went through enough in her younger years. The fact she and Oliver were causing distress in her teen years pained her.

She woke briefly sometime around sunrise. At the time she couldn't make sense of her surroundings. Her eyes never opened beyond a flutter as she felt Oliver gently stroking her arm and shoulder, every so often running a finger over her cheek and eye.

"Stay here as long as you need. I have some business to attend to."

Amidst her doze, Grace nodded, content and oblivious of the night's stress for a moment. By the time she realized the business he was likely implying it was too late. He'd be nearly out the door by now. Down the driveway if his temper had come into play. Part of her wanted to leap out of bed and chase after him, tell him whatever revenge he aimed to get wasn't worth it. She got as far as swinging her feet to the ground when something inside her told her to stop. His caresses were not hostile. Whether it was a setup or not she didn't know. Either way, this matter was now to be dealt with between the men. Showing up to spare Victor would only make Oliver think she was still interested. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Deep down, she almost hoped Oliver would strike him as she so badly wanted to do back in the hallway together.

. . .

Oliver knocked on the door to Victor's apartment. The entire distance from the mansion to here was spent coming up with the words he'd say.

Victor answered, surprised but not fazed by Oliver's appearance. "Ah, Oliver. Didn't think the meeting was until next week."

"There isn't going to be a meeting. Not one you'll be attending."

It was no wonder by the deep and solemn tone of his voice why he was here.

"So…" Victor said, letting Oliver inside against his better judgment. "You found out."

"You're lucky I'm of sound mind or you'd be staring down the barrel of a revolver."

Victor laughed. "That I'd like to see."

"Push me and you will," Oliver snarled.

"Hey, don't get angry at me. I didn't know she was your wife."

"Likely story," Oliver said, "especially since she's told me you came to her after you found out."

Victor shook his head. "You're a foolish man, Warbucks, pushing a woman like Grace away. She told me everything that night. She was a temporary infatuation and you regret taking a wife in the first place. The whole city found it strange when we heard you married. You Republicans amaze me. You'd rather make a hasty marriage than have an affair."

With this, Oliver grabbed the man by his shirt, amazed by his willpower not to beat senseless. "Listen here. You'll not come anywhere near my property or my wife or I'll have you arrested. I don't care what she told you that damned night. It's nothing she hasn't told me herself. Consider this your warning."

Again, Victor laughed. "Whatever you say."

"You might benefit from taking me seriously."

"You'll play the doting husband for a little while then soon enough you'll remember why you cast her aside in the first place. I say six months from now she'll be the one knocking at my door. When that happens I promise she won't run back to you."

His limit met, he dropped Victor and swung his arm back. Then he stopped… and it certainly wasn't because he pitied the other man who stood across from him looking more than pleased. He stopped because he knew how easily Victor could destroy his marriage from a distance. Where he lacked in character he made up in connections. There wasn't a sting in the city he couldn't pull. Though not without power of his own, he knew Victor would always be one step ahead of him. It wouldn't surprise him to hear rumors of an ugly sort have been spread already. A bouquet of flowers would probably be arriving for Grace by afternoon. In the end, striking him would only lead to charges.

Oliver stepped back, keeping a cold stare of Victor until he was well in the doorway. "Play dirty all you want. You will not destroy my family."

Chapter Text

Grace was relieved when she saw Oliver's car return. She hadn't left the window since breakfast. Annie was due home from school within the next couple of hours and she held her breath hoping Oliver would return before then. Still, she waited even once the car was parked to see if he would come upstairs. Lack of energy returned and she had little intention of leaving the room today. The other part of it was the fear of finding out what Oliver had done to Victor — and then what he'd do to her. As gentle as he'd been with her overnight, she didn't trust his temper wouldn't turn.

To both her relief and chagrin, she indeed heard Oliver's footsteps coming toward their room. Nerves got the better of her. With one leap she moved to the bed and pulled the blankets up to her shoulders. Facing the wall, she wasn't able to see his expression when he opened the door. Judging by his heavy steps and loud breathing, she knew he was in a bad mood.

He came around to her side of the bed, pushing her legs back to sit next to her on the edge.

"Grace?" he said softly, taking her hand. "Wake up."

She fluttered her eyes, hoping the tears that had formed would be blinked back in the process. "Where were you?"

"You know where I was," he said.

"Okay…" She sat up a bit, feigning fogginess. "What happened?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"… Do I?"

Standing again, beginning to pace, Oliver said, "I didn't hurt him. Lord, help me, I wanted to maim him."

Grace's voice shook as she asked, "What did you do?"

Anger became evident in his voice. "I warned him to keep the hell away from you."

"Good."

She watched him pace for a few minutes, not daring to say anything else. She knew she was lucky to have made it this far, although she feared the moment he would inevitably explode. When it came down to it, Victor was not at fault. Only for perpetuating it. In good conscience, she couldn't let him go on blaming Victor for the whole. What's more, he couldn't go on ignoring the fact.

"I want to apologize for my part in all of this. I'd love to tell you he forced himself on me but I can't."

After several seconds, Oliver said without looking at her, "Grace..."

When he failed to continue, she asked, "What is it?"

"There's something I need to know."

"... Yes?"

"Was it... just the one time. I mean, with him or anyone else."

"Yes. I told you. And I promise you."

"Good," he said, though apprehension was evident in his voice.

Grace sighed, forcing herself to keep her composure. "I don't expect you to take my word for anything right now. I know I've hurt you and seeing you like this pains me."

Oliver shrugged, his back still to her. "I had it coming. I've certainly hurt you enough the last couple of years. I deserve it."

"No," she said as she sat up. Cautiously, she rested one of her hands on his shoulder. "You don't. It didn't solve anything, just made it worse."

"But that's just it. It made everything better."

"I beg your pardon?"

Finally turning his head, he said, "Obviously it helped you… or something. What I mean is, we've been working things out, more or less. I feel we have. Maybe it isn't perfect but it's better. How can I deny Victor's role in this?"

"Listen to me, Oliver," Grace said, sitting next to him now. "The only thing Victor succeeded in doing was making me sick with guilt. Annie is the reason we're working things out. Don't let me get away with this."

"I'm not."

"It certainly feels like it. You've hardly yelled at me, you had me here with you all night, you told off Victor, and now you're telling me you're the one at fault."

He looked away without responding.

"I need you to be honest with me. I need you to tell me how angry you are and I need you to tell me where I stand in this house. It's foolish to go on pretending. It's not fair to either of us and especially not Annie."

"I am angry. I'm angry at myself. I drove you away. I pushed and pushed. Even wondered sometimes why you hadn't found someone else. The more I think about it the more I feel like I've been waiting for this day. Damn it, I don't know! Nothing is clear right now."

"Well…" Grace said quietly. "I can't rush you, then. But we can't pretend everything is okay. I'm not saying we need to tell Annie all that's happened. She knows enough. But we can't go on as though nothing happened."

"Are you saying you want to leave?"

"No, of course not."

"Then why are you pressing the issue?" Oliver questioned.

"Because I'm terrified things will go back to how they were. I can't do it again, Oliver, I can't. It was too much. As much as I feel it's what I deserve now, I also know I'm going to crumble under the stress of our constant arguing. I love you and I can't stand what we've become."

"… I love you, too, Grace. Really, I do. That's one thing I do know."

These were the words that broke her down. She clung to him as she pleaded, "You do?"

Catching her, he said, "I don't think all of this would be bothering me if it didn't. I… I don't want you to leave. I want to fix this."

"You do?" she cried again.

"I do."

"I don't deserve you," she said into his shirt. "I was sure this would be the end."

"I've surprised myself if I'm being honest. But I'm realizing how close I came to losing you for good. I don't want that to happen. I don't know what I would do without you. I was a damned fool to push you away Victor or no Victor. I wish I could explain myself."

"Forget it. At least for now," Grace said as she sat up. "All that's happened… it happened. Neither of us can undo what we said or did. I have my regrets and you have yours. We need to put our energy into figuring out how to go on from here."

"I agree," he said, taking hold of her hand.

"Most importantly, what do you propose we do about Annie? We've put her through absolute hell."

"I wish I knew."

"I know I'll need to talk to her again if she will speak to me at all. You've been more forgiving than she has."

"Do you want me to talk to her about it?"

After a pause, Grace answered, "I don't know. It will have to be you if she won't have a word with me. I haven't a clue where to begin. Gosh, how did I get myself into this mess?"

"How did any of this happen?" Oliver replied, unable to contain the bitterness in his tone.

"We've been selfish."

"I should never have gotten married," Oliver said as he stood. "And I don't mean I never should have married you. I mean I never should have allowed myself to fall for you or anyone. It's like I said a while back. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. Business? Business I know. There isn't anything I can't fix."

Grace remained seated. "We were happy for a while, weren't we?" she said. "In the beginning?"

"In the beginning," he repeated.

"Let's try to get those days back… Annie is growing up so fast and we've missed the last year, probably more, because we were too busy with ourselves. I don't want to miss anymore."

"Neither do I," he agreed. "Sometimes I look at her and I don't believe it's Annie."

With a sniff, Grace nodded. "I know what you mean."

"I don't know how but we'll make it up to her."

Again, she nodded. "Did she say anything at breakfast about her after school plans?"

"I didn't see her," Oliver answered. "I was on a mission."

"I might try and meet her there. It gives me a fighting chance for a conversation."

"Good idea. Then I'll talk to her tonight. Assure her everything is fine between you and me."

"… Is it fine?"

Taking a long deep breath, Oliver reached for then lit a cigar. After the first puff, he answered, "We will be. Eventually. We have to be."

Grace stood, walking over to where he was standing in front of the window and put his arm around her. "Do you think we can?"

After several seconds, he said, "God, I hope so."

With that, they stood in the silence that filled the room. Not necessarily uncomfortable, although it was ambiguous. They kept their focus on what was going on outside. Squirrels scavenging, the reflection of the sun catching on cars driving down Fifth Avenue a short distance away. Time stood still for a moment inside the house while the rest of the world carried on with theirs. While it was easy to speak of change, the process of getting there scared them. Everything was at stake with little room left for error.

If only someone could tell them where they were supposed to start, each of them thought in their own way. That would make a world of difference. Alas, they were on their own.

Chapter Text

Annie swallowed at the sight of her mother waiting outside the school. She looked around nervously, hoping one of her friends would be seeking her out and rescue her from whatever it was that brought her here. Given the amount of crying that had echoed through the halls the night before, she knew it wasn't anything she wanted to hear. Least of all from Grace.

"Annie!" Grace called, waving her hand from where the car was parked.

With a groan, Annie answered the call, more for the sake of discretion than obedience.

"I knew you saw me," Grace said, nudging her daughter's arm.

Annie didn't reply.

"I thought I'd pick you up and we could grab something to eat… take a walk maybe? Just talk for a little while?"

The girl kept her eyes focused on something off in the distance.

Grace sighed. She hadn't expected this to be easy. With one last attempt at bribery, she said, "How about some shopping?"

Finally, Annie spoke. "You don't really think some food and some shopping is going to make me forgive you."

"No," she agreed, "but I was hoping it would be enough to get you to hear me out."

Pushing past her, Annie started away from the car and down the sidewalk. "I don't want to listen."

Grace followed. "You'll have to sooner than later. Why not now."

"Why should I? For years I've wondered why you and Daddy can't function together. Now it's clear. I don't want to hear any of it."

Dropping all facades, Grace said in a stern voice, "I resent the implication that I've been unfaithful through all of our issues."

"It only takes once."

"I'm well aware."

Turning around, tears stinging her eyes, Annie cried, "How could you? How could you do that to Daddy and how could you do it to me?"

"If you'd take a walk with me I can tell you."

"I don't know if I should," she sniped, crossing her arms.

"Well, as long as my name is on the adoption papers and so long as you are still a minor, I have authority over you. I appreciate your anger, but it's not going to do any of us any good ignoring each other. Your father listened to what I have to say and now it's your turn."

"You're getting a divorce."

"No."

Shocked, Annie questioned, "You're not?"

Grace shook her head.

"But why? How, I mean?"

Upon the glances starting their way, Grace put her hand on Annie's back and started her walking before she went on. "He knows everything. He's told me his piece and I've told him mine. He's even confronted Victor."

"Oh, no," Annie said, imagination running wild. "That's why you're here. He got into a fight."

Managing to suppress her amusement, Grace replied, "No, thankfully. At least not as far as I'm aware."

"Then why are you here?"

"To try and apologize."

Annie went quiet again, so Grace went on. "I wish I had the right words to say to you — to apologize not only for letting you down but for everything you've had to endure. What disappoints me more than my indiscretion is the fact I've been blind to how my and your father's rocky relationship had hurt you. I should have seen… and I must have… and I ignored it."

Tears coming to her eyes now, she took a breath to steady her voice. "And I'm realizing how much more I missed with you because of it. How much Oliver and I both have missed."

A tear rolled down Annie's cheek, but she ignored both it and Grace.

"He and I have been talking a lot today."

When she didn't go on, Annie dared to turn her head. "And?"

"And we want to fix things."

"How?"

"I don't know," she sniffed, "but we're determined to figure it out. We both realize we can never truly make things up to you and undo the damage that we've done, however, we will try as best as we can to go from here. Despite all the bickering and the yelling, your father and I love each other dearly. That much is certain."

Shaking her head, Annie said, "I don't understand how people claiming to love each other can be so miserable at the sight of one another. It doesn't make sense."

"I don't quite understand it, either. But the air has been cleared. I can't promise there won't be any more fights, but we've resolved to make a greater effort to deal with the issues at hand rather than brush them aside. That's been a major source of the trouble, that and, ironically, our fear of losing each other."

"That makes even less sense," Annie grimaced.

A soft chuckle rising from her throat, Grace said, "May you never need to understand this sort of logic."

They continued to walk in silence, Grace more than happy to give Annie the space she needed to process everything she'd said. This gave her time to pull herself together. She was shocked she'd managed not to crumble again.

Annie was at a loss. This morning she'd have been happy to see Grace packing her bags. By noon, she began to worry that thought might actually become reality. Then when she saw her standing there, she felt a pang of horror thinking this could be goodbye. Now all of her thoughts were a jumbled mess. Worst of all, she felt there was no one she could turn to to help sort them out. Not Grace and not Oliver. She was sure there were things she still didn't know and never wanted to. Duffy always lent an ear, though, she'd cried on her shoulder enough lately. She couldn't even talk to Molly, or at least distract herself with their playtime. All day she'd tried to apologize to no avail. No matter how she approached her, Molly ducked her head and sped off, going as far as to block her ears at one point. How could she apologize if Molly wouldn't give her a chance?

That's when it hit her that she was doing the same to Grace (or had tried at least). Clearly, her will was not as strong as Molly's. With this, she knew she couldn't hold a grudge. Not if we wanted a prayer to fix things with Molly.

"Is it… is it okay if I'm still mad at you?"

"Of course," Grace answered softly.

After another pause, Annie went on. "I don't really wanna see you and Daddy break up. I just don't want things like they have been. We all used to be so happy. I don't think I'll ever understand what ruined that."

She stroked Annie's hair. "Unfortunately, life has a way of creeping into even the happiest of situations. Our mistake was letting it beat us."

"Is it even possible to make things better?"

Putting on as brave a front as she could, Grace answered, "We'll only know if we try."

. . .

"Do you forgive, Mom?"

Oliver jumped at the question having almost forgotten Annie had come into the office with him. She'd been so quiet, even in her request for company. He'd wanted to talk with her anyway but then forgot all conversations when the ticker tape started rolling.

Taken aback, though part of him had expected such a question, he said, "I beg your pardon?"

"Do you forgive Mom?" she repeated, sitting up straight.

He knew the answer she wanted to hear, and it was the answer he so wanted to give. Unfortunately, his emotions around matters were still too raw to offer a simple yes or no.

"I will," he settled on saying.

"So, you don't yet?"

Dropping the ribbon, Oliver sighed, running his hand down the length of his face. "I do and I don't. It depends on what you mean by forgiving. If you mean in the sense that I can pretend the whole thing never happened without an ounce of resentment, no. If you mean I'm still hurt but want to work things out, then yes."

"I think that's how I feel, too," she admitted, slumping back against the seat again.

Meeting her eye, he said firmly, "I don't want you holding any ill feelings toward her. I'd do anything to go back and keep you from knowing. That and all the other things that you shouldn't have had to overhear or have any awareness of."

"How can I not be mad?"

"Because what happened was not anything against you. It was against me and rightfully so. Even then I believe her when she says she didn't go looking for this to happen."

"Did you do something to her to make her leave?"

Sadness in his eyes, Oliver answered, "Years of games and neglect. I'm not saying that gave her the right to what happened but I can't deny the part I played. Things would be different had we not had any issues to start with. It was a mistake. As painful as they can be sometimes, they happen."

"So you do forgive her then?"

"I... I suppose I do."

"And you aren't going to make her get a divorced?" Annie questioned, voice trembling.

Holding out his arm, Oliver motioned for her to come around to the back of the desk. There he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as she started to cry.

"I'm not ready to let her go," he said. "And I know how sorry she is. It's not going to be easy, but we are going to move past this."

Pulling back, she rubbed her eyes before looking at him. "That's what Mom said."

"You see?" He forced a smile and pulled out his handkerchief for her. "We see eye to eye."

Taking the cloth being handed to her, she dried her face. "She said that you fight all the time because you're afraid to lose each other."

His brow furrowed a moment. Once he thought about it, he understood. "I suppose she's right."

"But what does that mean?" she asked.

Again, Oliver sighed, missing the days he and Grace would handle these kinds of questions together. "The best way I can explain it is that we were so afraid of upsetting each other in the beginning that neither of us spoke up when something wasn't right or bothering us. Then when something happened that made us finally say what we were thinking and seeing that things were still okay by the end of the day, we let everything else out between the lines. All the idiotic arguments over meaningless things can be attributed."

"I guess that kinda makes sense," she shrugged.

"Don't trouble yourself too much with it. It's no longer your concern. Take confidence in the fact that both my eyes as well as Grace's have been opened. We love each other and are determined to make amends."

"I always thought love was supposed to be happy."

"It is — or it can be. It's complicated and you're much better off talking to Grace about this sort of thing."

"I don't know if I want to yet."

"That's okay."

Wandering back to the chair, standing behind it rather than sitting down, she asked, "Is love the same for everyone?"

"How do you mean?"

"Is it supposed to be happy then people mess up, or does everyone feel miserable at one point?"

"Everyone has their trials at one point or another. I'll assume it comes out in different ways."

"Like how?"

"You're full of questions today, aren't you?"

"I'm tired of having to answer 'em all myself."

Unable to argue with this, Oliver pushed his work aside and stood. "Well... you're mad at Grace, correct?"

Almost guiltily, she nodded.

"And you're hurt by what she did?"

Another nod.

"So, if right now you saw her trip and fall, what would you do?"

"Ask if she's all right."

"And?"

"Help her up."

"Why is that?"

"I guess... well..." she stumbled. "I mean, why wouldn't I help anyone? If they were hurt, I mean."

He continued his drilling. "You wouldn't laugh?"

"Why would I laugh?"

"Because she hurt you. Why not enjoy seeing a bit of her misfortune in return?"

"Because I lo- oh..."

Oliver smiled. "Understand?"

Reluctantly, Annie nodded. "Yeah…"

"So," he said, squeezing her hands, "don't hold this against her. She loves you more than anything or anyone else. If I can forgive, so can you."

Not wanting to cry again, she turned away with a final nod and moved across the room to the door.

"Goodnight, Annie," Oliver called after her.

"Goodnight," she said without looking back.

Chapter Text

Grace stood outside of Oliver's door for a few minutes switching between pacing and leaning against the wall. For what it was worth, today had been a good day. Annie was at least speaking to her, even if not at length, and Oliver maintained a cordial disposition. She doubted she'd be hearing from Victor again, and best of all, she knew she was home. However, parts of this left her conflicted. She wanted nothing more than to stay with Oliver again tonight, hoping they could keep up the open discussions. Fear overtook her every time she went to knock. He hadn't come to say goodnight, not that he often did anymore, but after last night she wasn't sure what to think.

"Grace?"

She jumped at the feeling of Oliver's hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she said, "I thought you were in there."

"You didn't put that together when you knocked?"

"I hadn't got around to it yet."

He chuckled. "Come in."

Grace trailed behind him at a fair distance. He didn't question her right away, going about his nightly routine. She sat on the ottoman near the doorway, looking more at the floorboards than at Oliver going between rooms. By the time his teeth were brushed and he was dressed in his pajamas and robe she'd lost herself in her thoughts. He startled her when he sat down next to her.

"Did you have something on your mind?"

"I…" She shook her head. "I wanted to know if you talked to Annie."

"Yeah."

"How did it go?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?"

Oliver shrugged. "She's still upset."

"I know."

"You can't expect things to blow over by morning."

"I know that, too. Wishful thinking, I guess."

"I made her… both of us… see that anger and hurt doesn't have to be the end of everything."

"You've made that clear already," she said.

"But I wasn't sure I believed it. What I mean is, all I knew was that I didn't want to see you leave, but I realized why."

"… Yes?" she prompted when he failed to elaborate.

"Just that you don't stop loving someone because they've wrong you. Am I at the place I was a few years ago when I looked at you and felt happy and complete, or that I want to push work aside and whisk you away for a romantic weekend in the country? No. But when I try to picture the future without you it makes me feel lost. I made Annie realize she'd feel the same."

"Oh..."

The sadness in her eyes not going unnoticed, Oliver said, "You wanted to start being honest with each other."

"I know — I liked what you said. I just wish it didn't have to be said." Steadying her voice, she finished, "I can't picture a future without you, either. Not on these terms."

After a pause, he admitted, "I always thought it would be me who would wind up unfaithful."

Surprised, she replied again with, "Oh?"

"Not emotionally. Too much work. I know our intimacy never came to a full halt, but it was… different isn't a fitting word."

"We were kidding ourselves. Trying to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't."

"Could be."

Softly, she said, "Until last night I hated going to bed with you. Not when we were first married, of course, but in recent years."

"Did you?" Now was his turn to look hurt and even a bit surprised despite the fact though he'd heard as much a number of times by now - something along the lines.

"It meant nothing anymore. It made me understand the phrase 'wifely duties' even if I initiated it."

Though it pained him to do so, Oliver asked, "Is that what drove you away?"

Resting a hand on his forearm, she said, "No, I don't think so… Maybe without realizing? Really, Oliver, I don't know why I did what I did. It wasn't worth it, that's all I can conclude."

"And last night? What made that so different?"

There were so many answers, she thought, but none seemed like it would suffice.

"You kissed me like you meant it," she settled on saying, flimsy as it felt. "Like I was the only thing in the world that meant anything to you at that moment. I didn't understand it but it was wonderful feeling like I mattered to you again."

"You've always mattered to me."

"It's hard to tell sometimes. I'm not trying to lay blame. I'm guilty of it as well."

"I'm not sure about that," he said.

"What?"

"You made efforts. I didn't."

"I could have tried harder."

"You shouldn't have had to try in the first place."

Grace sighed. "I don't want to argue about this of all things. Not again. Let's forget about it and see where we're going instead."

"I want to, Grace, and I intend to. I just wish I knew how."

"It's going to take time and work."

He shook his head. "What time? There's too much on my plate. Tensions are rising in Europe. Roosevelt wants me in Washington soon for a meeting to discuss plans should war break out at some point. Factories and finances and such."

"Is it really looking so bad?" she questioned.

"Afraid so."

"But what does that have to do with us?"

"I'm just afraid we're setting ourselves up for further failure. I can't promise not to be short with you or be oblivious from time to time."

"I don't expect you never to yell at me again or to devote your entire life to me. I understand you have work to do. I want to help in any way I can. I know I've been slacking, and I apologize."

Tensing up, Oliver shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "That's, um, something I actually want to discuss with you."

Nervously, she uttered, "Oh?"

"I wasn't sure how to bring it up… but since we are on the subject…"

"What is it?"

"I don't think us working together is a good idea."

She didn't reply, not feeling like she had a right to the disappointment she felt.

"At least right now," he added. "I know you love your job, but it's only another source of tension. I also don't trust rumors won't spread. I don't want you a witness to it."

"I can handle it."

"I know you can, but I can't. You're still my wife and I don't want to hear your name slung in the mud."

"But it's true…"

"It's no one's business but our own." He stood, needing to walk. "That's not the only reason. As I said, it's a source of tension. I need someone at my disposal. We argue most in the office. I think some space would be beneficial, too."

She remained seated. "I understand."

"We've settled that you'll still be living here, and I think we need to keep to our own rooms. That was helping before all this."

"What will I do all day?"

"Whatever you'd like," he answered. "Be around for Annie, take a swim, stroll the gardens, I don't care what."

"Isn't there any work I can do?"

"I suppose," he grumbled, "but behind the scenes."

Grace nodded. "I'll take what I can get."

Turning back toward her, he finished, "I need time, Grace. My mind's not wrapped around all this. I'm going to feel hot and cold for a while."

She nodded again.

"I really do want to work things out."

"As do I."

Reaching out, he cupped her chin, turning her gaze upward, "Focus on Annie for now. I say that for both of us. We've neglected her long enough."

Nodding a third time, Grace took hold of his hand. "I'll do whatever you need me to do."

Chapter Text

The new routine and newfound knowledge took some getting used to, the latter particularly for Oliver. He had more forgiving days than others. When having a bad day, his temper fell on Grace, harsh words that he'd held back in the beginning making themselves heard in an unrelated incident. Grace withstood these bursts as much as she could, almost relieved he was showing more anger. It helped to know that after a bad day he'd come to her door and to make peace, sometimes apologizing though it was still a difficult task for him. They couldn't forget the problems they'd had prior to Victor.

Annie was slowly allowing Grace back into her own routine. She was still standoffish at most times but lately had been coming to her again when she needed her mother. Whether or not things had ever smoothed over with Molly, Grace wasn't sure. She hoped, but had to assume Annie would speak about her to at least Oliver if things had been patched.

As for herself, Grace felt like a stranger in her own home. The most Oliver would let her do was type up letters and run errands. His new secretary posed no real threat to her, though beautiful and a few years younger than she would have liked, she couldn't compare to over a decade of experience not only in the field but with Oliver's unique work environment. She didn't get the feeling Oliver had hired her as an attempt for revenge, though she couldn't bock at it if that were the case.

More than anything else, she was bored. A full staff meant there were no chores to do. Annie was at school all day and busy with her friends and homework in the evening — assuming it was a night she allowed Grace in her company. The isolation made her realize how few friends she had outside the house. Reaching out to the wives of some of Oliver's closer associates seemed risky. Rumors had been going around thanks to Victor. Oliver shielded her from as much as possible. There hadn't been anything in the gossip columns which was a relief. Keeping it contained to their social loops was more bearable. After all these years they still whispered about Oliver Warbucks and his secretary-turned-bride. This probably hadn't been a surprise to any of them.

She hadn't realized how much of herself had revolved around Oliver. Of course, when things were going well it was a non-issue. Only now that things were rocky did it seem to matter. But she was past the point of going back to her routes. Her family was gone or estranged and old friends long lost. She'd been working her entire adult life, nearly all of that time for Oliver. Her life didn't exist outside the house. For a while, this was burdensome, but in desperation, she let herself outside more. She bought some simple dresses to walk around the park and window shop. If she had to spend time alone she might as well do so among strangers. That way she could distract herself from the never-ending thoughts of what'd she'd done to turn everything upside down.

It felt good to blend in. Though her face often appeared in the paper alongside Oliver, most people only memorized Oliver's features. Without the expensive cars and tailored clothes, nobody gave a second look. It was an enlightening experience. She saw at what lengths people went to make a few cents. Some put on puppet shows, others playing music or painting portraits, and others resorted to panhandling, looking too hungry and tired to put much effort into a specific talent. She was grateful to be in the position to quietly help these people out. She was sure to choose one or two people a day who appeared to need a break the most. She'd drop a few bills in their cups and walk away without so much as meeting their eye. Right now, it was the only thing she could do to make her feel good about herself.

Being out in public more also allowed her to catch glimpses of dreams that were slipping through her fingers. Mothers pushing their baby in a stroller, mothers running around trying to catch their toddlers and scolding the older ones for not looking out for them, young couples strolling hand in hand, looks of love radiating from their eyes… she hadn't realized how much she'd missed out. It felt as though Annie was already grown. Adopting her at ten didn't leave much time for childhood. She'd been raised to be independent and didn't need the same constant care. She could go to the park on her own and meet up with her friends. Family outings were more chaotic going to the theatre or one of Oliver's parties. Her relationship with Oliver? There had been a honeymoon period, of course, but it wasn't what she saw between a lot of the couples she passed. Their relationship didn't have to change much once they were married. They shared a room, sure, but their days were the same. Adding romance to the mix was nice, especially since Oliver had changed so much with Annie in his life, but it was still different. They weren't so young and they were sure of their lives.

For a while, they'd talked about having a baby, trying for some time. When nothing ever resulted in a pregnancy, they quietly moved on, hoping for a surprise down the line. She hadn't thought about it so much as their relationship declined. If she did, it was more of a worry, not wanting to complicate things any more than they already were. Now she was left with too much time to realize that she had little time left to make a dream that had once been the center focus of her life become reality. She never intended to be a career woman forever. She was from a traditional Irish family. The thought of not having children was a foreign concept. She was blessed to call Annie her daughter, but the longing for a child she could nurture from the beginning became a constant ache.

It was a yearning she kept to herself. She couldn't give Oliver space and bring up the topic of a baby at the same time. Not because she thought he'd react badly, rather, she couldn't handle the confusion it would bring. What was most important was rebuilding trust with him. It was a conscious decision, at least, though it didn't hurt any less.

The months continued to pass and she'd grown accustomed to her time away. Once the summer months hit and Annie had dropped most of her apprehension around her, the two of them spent time together. At least one of her springtime fantasies were playing out, Grace often thought. Friends still took precedence over parents, though. Nothing shocking for a teenager. Grace was relieved the day she saw Molly rejoin Annie's friend group, though the tension was still evident. It was a start.

Oliver wondered where Grace went every day. He'd noticed the slight changes over time. Her clothes, her hair, the quiet and pensive air about her. Grace had panicked at the initial inquiry, fearing he thought she'd been unfaithful again. He denied that being the reason for asking, but it didn't go unnoticed by her when suddenly he was finding more work for her to do. Figuring she'd spent enough time on her retreats, she took the tasks on happily.

Weeks continued to pass, Grace realizing how much her and Oliver's relationship had come to a standstill. Most interactions were either cordial, mealtimes and goodnights at their doors, or official, work-related and routine. Carefully, she broached the subject of getting away to the country for a long weekend. No work, no pressure. He considered it, going back and forth between declining and accepting. Last-minute finally brought an affirmative answer, deciding that he too was tired of the blurred lines of their relationship.

Everything was brought out into the open. Salting old wounds, catching up on things the other had missed out on, where they wanted to go and how they saw themselves getting there… doors were slammed and tears were shed, but by the time they headed back to the city, they felt a renewed hope. Things weren't over for them, and it was time to start pushing forward. Together.

Chapter Text

September 3rd, 1939

"Oliver? Is it true?"

Looking up from his ticker tape machine as Grace walked further into the room, he answered with a solemn nod.

"Britain and France declared war?"

"I'm afraid so."

She set her newspaper on the desk. "I'd wondered why you weren't at breakfast."

Oliver sighed. "No great shock after the invasion. Someone needed to step up."

"What do you think it will mean for us?"

"Us personally?"

"America," she clarified.

"Too soon to tell. Franklin phoned about ten minutes ago, actually. I'm flying down this evening for an emergency meeting."

"… may I come?"

A bit surprised, he took a second to answer. "If you want, but don't you want to be here for Annie's first day of school tomorrow?"

"Oh, that's right…"

With a small smile, he reached for her hand and pulled her around. "I'm planning on being back here tomorrow afternoon."

Leaning against the edge of the desk, Grace shook her head. "I know there have been concerning things coming out of Germany for years. I don't know why this has stunned me so much."

"Because the last war was so damaging."

"Will this one be as bad?"

"I hope not, but that Chancellor is a madman. Anything could happen."

She clasped her hands together, not saying anything for a minute while Oliver went back to work.

"Puts things into perspective, doesn't it?" she eventually said.

"Hmm?"

"Just how quickly things happen. A few months ago, I thought our marital issues were the end of the world. Selfish."

"Maybe our world," he said.

She reached for his hand again. "I'm glad the worst of that is behind us."

"As am I," he agreed. "I don't think I could handle a war and a divorce."

"Me, neither."

"This might be a good time for you to come back to work full time."

Becoming animated, she replied almost giddily, "Oh, Oliver, you mean it?"

"I need someone who knows what she's doing at my side."

Grace smiled.

"And someone good under pressure. Regardless of whether or not America goes to the frontlines, things are going to change. The economy, need for materials, all that."

"Thank you, Oliver."

He pecked her lips after he stood up. "Can you start today?"

"Of course."

"Excellent. I need you to prepare a statement. The reporters aren't happy that I haven't acknowledged Poland yet." He finished with a scoff. "As though my condemning or condoning Hitler's actions makes a bit of difference."

"I'll get started right away."

"I'll need to redo my entire schedule for the next three days. Possibly the week if I get stuck in Washington longer. I have no idea what Franklin is hoping to accomplish with my being there."

She searched the desk for a scrap of paper then began taking notes.

"The meeting with my attorney needs to be postponed until let's say Thursday. Cancel that Anderson chap altogether. I'll get back to him next week. As for the rest of them…"

Like riding a bike, she thought as she jotted down the notes like rapid fire. It felt good to be in the office again doing something more than proofreading or typing. Even better? Oliver trusted her again. Needed her again.

"Got all that?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Last thing: On Friday—"

"You're pretty booked. Why not start on a new week?"

Oliver chuckled. "I was going to ask if there's time for you and I to go out to dinner."

"Oh," she blushed as she looked over the list. "I suppose we can squeeze it in."

"I suspect it will be our last chance for a little while. President Roosevelt said there might be a letter from Churchill looking for aid. I may need to go to England to meet with him."

"During a war? Please, Lord, I hope not."

Walking over to her and taking hold of her arms, he assured, "It will be all right, love. I'm in no danger."

"You're always in danger, but there you'll be in a different kind of danger."

"Nothing's set in stone, yet. We'll see how it goes."

With a sigh, she nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his chest. "It feels like we've only just got each other back. I'm not ready to lose you."

He kissed the top of her head. "Nor am I, darling, so you mustn't worry about that."

She nodded against him, opting for a couple of minutes of silence before she had to let him go. As uncertain as the future became the second her eyes rested on the morning paper, she was grateful to see her life was continuing to mend despite the disaster. Everything before felt irrelevant. All that mattered in the wake of the news was that she and Oliver kept their life together strong so they could do what was needed of them, and most of all, keep Annie protected given any of the worst-case scenarios came to fruition. It was still early, she reminded herself, anything could happen be it good or bad.

"I should let you get to work," she said as she pulled back.

"You, too," he winked.

"Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, would you have hired me back if not for the war?"

"Truth be told, I've missed you around here. My hesitation has been that we'd throw away everything we've rebuilt without having time away from each other. I guess… that doesn't seem so important now."

Kissing his cheek, she said, "We'll figure it out."

"We always do."