A Pilot's Wife

Records

Hey guys, i won't be able to update until late tomorrow as I have a flight to catch and I'm heading to New York. But updates will come. Tell me what you think so far.

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Elliot had just entered the house by now, and he had seen the fear in her eyes. Olivia hadn't told him anything, neither had Robert, all he knew was speculation of pilot error. She turned away from Robert and grabbed Elliot, guiding him towards the front door. She put on her heeled black boots, thick heels that made her three inches taller, more sophisticated looking, the way the leather made her look slick. She hadn't grabbed a jacket, as it was nearing seventy outside. She opened the door, bombarded with photos and questions. The first time she would be outside of the house. The door shut closed and left Robert in the house.

"Elliot lets go, you're driving."

She pushed her away past the press, shoving the questions aside. She made it it Elliots squad car, entering the vehicle and finally having Elliot start the engine and drive away from the crowd.

Elliot looks at the thinning woman in the passenger seat.

"Where to?" he asks, keeping his hands on the wheel

"I don't care."

"Coffee?"

Olivia looks out the window, her hand resting against her head

"Sure."

In the wake of Robert's news, which Olivia most insistently refused to credit, had only wanted to be with Elliot right now. Margaret was alright with Julia, but Olivia couldn't tell the four year old that her father had taken his own life, let alone 344 other's lives. She wouldn't believe it was suicide. It couldn't be. It was impossible, she thought. It was unimaginable, unthinkable, out of the question.

"There saying suicide." Olivia blurted out, her eyes looking into the distance

Elliot immediately looked at the woman, seeing her profile, her eyes droopy, her expression, broken. He couldn't form the words, he couldn't ask why. He wouldn't.

"I'm-"

"El, don't bother. It couldn't of been suicide. I just won't believe it."

"Alright. Because I don't either. Now lets just get coffee, take our minds off that."

"Will I ever be able to?" Olivia says, look at him with glossy eyes

She continues

"Will I ever be able to stop thinking about the possibility that my husband was so unhappy, so depressed, angry even, at himself, someone, maybe even me, that he would take his own life, let alone hundreds of others?!" Olivia says, out of breath

"Olivia." Elliot starts "He loved you. He loved Julia. It couldn't have been suicide. He wouldn't do that."

They pull over next to the curb and Elliot guides opens her side of the door. They're at a coffee vendor outside of her neighborhood, nearby the precinct. She recognizes that it's the vendor they usually go to. It did have the best coffee after all. She got out of the car, starting out with a slower pace, a calm born of exhaustion, possibly, or simply a disguised numbness, descending upon her.

"Hey Mike" Elliot says, Olivia trailing behind her

Mike would stay out for hours with his coffee vendor, staying as late as ten pm, and as early as five am. After all, his usual customers were cops. He had been on the corner for nearly twenty years, beating out starbucks and peets for having the cheapest coffee, and for being pretty good.