Chapter Text
Connor had told him not to wait. Connor had told him to move on and find someone better. But Connor had said that so many times at this point that he didn’t even hear it anymore.
Besides, he had never let Connor dictate his life before and like hell he was going to start now.
He knew there was no one else; not for him. There never would be. And really, in the grand scheme of things, 5 years wasn’t all that long. Certainly not when it meant Connor was his reward for waiting.
It was hard at first. He had trouble falling asleep. Not because he was lonely, even though he was, but because he kept imagining Connor in that place. Cold, alone. In a hard bed. Surrounded by people who didn’t care about him. Connor thought it was what he deserved, and maybe it was, but that didn’t bring him any peace of mind.
The first two weeks he was more or less numb to it. It was still new enough that he was able to trick himself into thinking Connor was just on a trip, that he’d be back soon. But as the first month rolled around he found it was harder and harder to pretend. He gave up trying after 6 weeks.
He decided to visit him for the first time after that: to make it real.
However, he found out there was far more involved than just getting up and going to the prison. He was momentarily envious of Annalise and the others who could so easily get in with one simple phrase, ‘I’m his lawyer’.
He had to make an appointment. They would let him know in a few days if he had been approved.
He had to get a list of do’s and don'ts. There were obvious ones about not bringing in contraband - his thrill seeking days were behind him anyways and he wasn’t about to risk getting Connor in any more trouble than he was already in. Then there were strange ones about what kind of clothes he could wear. He made sure he memorized them all.
Then he got a call back by the prison administrator. His appointment had been denied. He wasn’t on Connor’s list of visitors.
“But I’m his husband.” He answered, baffled. He had never signed the divorce papers. He still had them, but only so he could burn them in front of Connor once he was released.
“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere, at least. “But I can’t approve your appointment unless you’re on the list.”
Oliver was silent for a moment, trying to process this unexpected hurdle. “Well, how do I get on the list? Do I need to bring our marriage certificate or -?”
“Mr. Walsh dictates who is on the list.” She sounded uncomfortable as she said that.
Oliver just rolled his eyes. Of course. Of course he would keep him off. That stupid, masochistic, asshole.
He sighed and rubbed at his face in annoyance. “Is there a way for me to talk to Connor without being on the list?” He asked.
“Not in person, but you’re able to send him mail. I can email you the instructions.” She explained.
“That would be great, thanks.”
He gave her his information and just a few minutes later he was given another list of do’s and don'ts, along with directions on how to make sure it got to Connor. He kept the letter brief. It was only a few lines and simply asked to be added to the list. He played dumb, pretending he didn’t know Connor had done this on purpose to try and freeze him out.
He never got an answer.
He wasn't bothered. He was onto Connor and knew the man hadn't meant it when he said he didn't love him. Feelings didn't just turn off. There was so much more to them than lies and murder. There were twist-ties, and cuddling under the blankets, and crossword puzzles, and so many more wonderful things that made his heart flutter. He was going to fight for all of those things.
Two weeks later when he called to make an appointment he was told that he still wasn’t on the list.
It had been just over two months now. Connor’s pillow didn’t smell like him anymore. He had taken to spraying his cologne on it to try and pretend.
He sent another letter. This time he made sure Connor knew that he knew what he was doing and that it wasn’t going to work. That he wasn’t going to move on, so he might as well just let him come visit.
He never got an answer to that one either.
He still wasn’t added to the visitor list.
Oliver tried again. This time he practically begged Connor to let him come see him. He told him how much he missed him and how lonely he felt. He told him he wasn’t sleeping and he was scared. He put in every desperate plea he could think of to get Connor to change his mind.
No answer.
No list.
He was thinking of another tactic to use to get Connor to stop being so stupid when Gemma unexpectedly stopped by.
“Oh, hey?” It was more of a question than a greeting.
“Hey Oliver. I just wanted to see how you’re doing. Make sure you’re okay.” She told him and gave him a hug. It had been a while since anyone had touched him, he realized. It felt good.
“I’m fine.” He answered even though he still hadn’t let her go. As soon as he said the words, however, he let out a sob. Because nothing was fine. His husband was in prison and wouldn’t talk to him. He was lonely. He was scared that he’d never see him again. He was hurt. He was heartbroken. He was so, so lonely...
Gemma didn’t budge or let him go. She just held on and let him cry. She didn’t give him any platitudes either, which he appreciated. She let him be.
He didn’t cry for long. When he was finished, he wiped at his cheeks and took a step back. “Sorry…” He murmured, abashed.
“Don’t be.” She assured and wiped another tear from his cheek. “I told him he was being stupid but I can’t get the idiot to change his mind.”
“You’ve seen him?!” He asked, wide-eyed. He had assumed Connor had refused to add anyone to his list. It seemed like something he would do. To find out it was just him...well...that stung.
Gemma nodded, though looked uncomfortable about it. “A few times now.” She admitted and nervously licked her lips. “He got your letters. He asked me to tell you to stop it and move on.” She continued before he could respond. “But I don’t think you should. I think he’s just...being Connor, you know?”
Oliver scoffed. “Oh yeah. I know.” It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. He wiped at his face one last time before turning and collapsing on the couch. “How’re your kids?” He asked. He needed to stop talking about Connor for a moment.
“Good. They’re good.” She assured. “You…” She paused and moved to sit next to him on the couch. “You know that if you need anything you can call me, right?” She asked, and gently took his hand. “We’re family, Oliver. And I don’t want you to think you have to go through this alone.”
He smiled a bit, even though it felt empty. He squeezed her hand back, anyways. “Yeah, I know.”
He liked Gemma. He did. But she didn’t understand what this felt like. She wouldn’t unless it was her own husband in there.
She was quiet for a moment, just looking at him. Then, she perked up a bit as if she had a great idea. “Do you know about the first time Connor told me about you?” She asked, her eyes brightening a bit.
Oliver just shrugged and shook his head. He hadn’t thought about it, to be honest.
Gemma pulled his hand a bit so he was facing her more and then put her hand on his shoulder. “It was Christmas like...five? Six years ago…?” She shook her head and waved her hands dismissively. “Whenever. I brought this gift for him; a man, totally hot. Not once all night did Connor even look at him.”
Oliver allowed himself a little smile at that while she continued.
“And trust me, I’ve seen my brother on the prowl before. I know when he’s interested in someone. And this guy was totally his type! I mean, tall, toned, great jaw-.”
Oliver chuckled and shook his head. “I get it!”
“Right.” Gemma refocused on him. “Point is, this guy might as well have been invisible to my brother. So I pulled him aside and asked him what was up and he said something about ‘being good’ and then he told me he had a boyfriend.” Her tone softened and her eyes got distant as she remembered.
“He looked so dopey. He was trying to stop himself from smiling too much and kept looking away like he was embarrassed. Said the guy’s name was Oliver.” She poked his shoulder a little then and gave him a loving look. “And I knew right then that you were special. That he just adored you.”
He was blushing though he didn’t know why. He knew Connor loved him. He knew that. But the longer he went without hearing from him the more he worried that he might have been wrong and Connor really did want to divorce him.
“We weren’t even dating that Christmas.” He told her.
Gemma looked scandalized. “What?!”
Oliver just laughed and leaned back on the couch as he reminisced. “We had a fight and had broken up.” He kept it vague because, looking back, he wasn’t so sure Connor had even done anything wrong. It had hurt so much then, but they hadn’t said they were exclusive. He should have been more understanding. “But he came back with this awful knit hat from your Grandmother and gave it to me, he wanted to take me out to a nice dinner - try again...” He trailed off, thinking of how nice it was to be chased after like that.
But that just made him think of how much he missed Connor and his smile faded as the sadness seeped back in.
Gemma lips tightened as she noticed the change in her mood. “Well.” She said, looping her arms through his and resting her head on his shoulder. “It was obvious he was in love with you. And I couldn’t wait to meet you.”
They sat that way for a while, just being together. When she left an hour or so later she promised to keep working on Connor, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. If he couldn’t convince his husband to let him in she never would. So, he’d need an entirely new plan.
It was silly, really. Childish and corny. But he didn’t care.
As soon as he saw the calendar he grabbed it off of the shelf and took it home. He flipped back through the months, marking off days since Connor went to prison. Then, he ripped the months out of the calendar and meticulously cut out each square until he was left with ‘X’ marked confetti. Next, he wrote Connor another letter.
He wrote about how wrong Connor was about them. He wrote about how he wasn't sorry for being willing to do anything for him because he loved him. About how that wasn't a sign that they weren't good for each other, but a sign of how deep their love was. He wrote about how every horrible thing they'd both done had brought them closer together and to quit their marriage now would mean it was all for nothing. He spent pages recounting every horrible thought he had and illegal thing he did and why it was okay because it had been to protect him. He wrote about how he knew Connor would do the same.
He folded it up and stuck it in an envelope with all the little pieces of calendar confetti and licked it closed. He set it down on the table and then slumped. Why didn't he feel better?
Oliver stared down at it with a frown. This was supposed to be the answer. This was the right thing to do. This was the truth of them.
Wasn't it?
Pretending.
That's what Annalise had accused Connor of on the stand. That he had only married Oliver to pretend to be a good person. He had assumed, in the heat of the moment and at the offense of his relationship being called into question, that it was to unnerve Connor. That she had only been trying to rattle him. But what if she had been right? What if it was all pretend?
Not because Connor didn't love him, because he knew he did. He knew it. But because Connor wanted so badly to be good and felt like he wasn't. Because Connor wanted them to be normal, and they weren't.
How many times had Connor asked him to stop hacking? How many times had he asked him not to get involved in this case, or that cover-up? How long did he try to convince him not to work for Annalise in the first place? How many times had Oliver ignored his wants...just because it was what he wanted? Because he was addicted to the thrill of it?
Oliver's hands shook as he picked up the envelope and he was surprised to see small spots appear on it. He wiped at his cheeks, shocked at how wet they were. How did this come on so quickly?
He took a few breaths to calm himself down and then swiftly tore open the envelope. He preserved the confetti, because that was who they were. They were two men who could express their love in innocuous things. They were patient. They were steady.
Those pieces of calendar confetti were the truth of them.
He took out another piece of paper and started a new letter. This time, however, he didn’t ask him to change his mind. He didn't talk about any of the horrible things that had led them here. This time, he just talked about his life.
He talked about work. He talked about how he enjoyed the new flavor of coffee he got that morning. He talked about the throw blanket he wanted to buy for the couch but had convinced himself not to since it was too expensive. He let Connor know about all the little details of his life. Then, he stuffed the letter and all of the calendar confetti pieces into a new envelope. This time, he sealed it with a smile.
It wasn't too late for them to have a normal life together.
Oliver wasn’t disappointed when he received no answer. He didn’t even bother to check the approved visitor’s list. That wasn't his goal anymore.
Every day, he marked off another day from the calendar and cut it out. Every day he wrote a short letter talking about what he did, and ended it with an ‘I Love You’. He mailed a letter to Connor every single day. He was spending a fortune on postage, but he didn’t care.
For the first time since Connor’s incarceration, he started feeling better. Cutting out that square and writing that letter was the best part of his day. He looked forward to it and found himself smiling as he wrote to him, eager to continue sharing his life with the man he loved.
Months went by with him doing this. Daily letters to his husband that were never answered. He knew Connor was just waiting for him to give up. It was a contest to see who was more stubborn; Connor was going to be disappointed. He would buy as many calendars and stamps as it took, even if he spent the next five years doing it.