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The beep of her Mini unlocking caused an almost piercing echo in the deserted garage, but the sound was such a relief to Felicity.
In more ways than one.
She opened the car door and collapsed into the driver’s seat. Walking from the apartment to the elevator, and then across the garage housed beneath the building to her car, was definitely over-doing it after being immobile for so long.
Her legs were shaky and weak and they felt…weird. Sensation was re-emerging in fits and starts – tingling in her toes, shooting pains down the back of her thighs, a feeling of ants crawling beneath the skin of her right calf.
And walking was difficult – not least because her legs hadn’t supported any weight in months. Putting one foot in front of the other took conscious effort, as if she had to relay the order to move to every individual muscle fibre involved in the process. She felt like a puppeteer orchestrating her own body into action.
So yeah…definitely weird.
Three feet from the apartment door, she’d leaned against the wall, her knees locked to prevent her from collapsing. But she’d never considered going back for the wheelchair. Standing up and stepping away from that chair had felt…liberating. She’d felt unburdened and in control in a way she hadn’t since before the shooting.
The experience - the paralysis - had never broken her. In fact, it had helped her tap reserves of inner strength she didn’t know she possessed. And she’d come to accept that being in the chair didn’t prevent her from being…her.
But Darhk had put her in that chair. He’d ordered a hit on her and Oliver and the results had altered the trajectory of her life.
And he’d gloated about doing so.
Being in that chair…it was a symbol of his power over her. It was tangible proof of a victory he had won over her and Oliver.
Oliver.
The other reason she couldn’t go back for her chair.
The pain and hopelessness in his eyes after he’d said goodbye to his son would have broken her heart, if it hadn’t already been in pieces. And a small part of her had felt guilty about compounding his suffering by ending their engagement so soon after.
But it had to be done. She had to protect herself.
Just like that moment in a hospital corridor, after the most bittersweet kiss she’d ever experienced, she pulled her heart from Oliver Queen’s clutches.
Because she deserved more.
And then her foot had twitched. And God, the look of hope and awe on his face when she’d stood up…
She couldn’t doubt his love for her, when he looked at her like that.
It should have been a moment for celebration. She should have walked straight into his arms, where they could rejoice together.
And that made his betrayal all the more devastating.
She shook her head forcefully, in an attempt to beat back the tears that threatened to fall. Her head hurt and the bridge of her nose burned from repressing the sobs that wanted to escape. But she couldn’t break down here.
She had the freedom now to escape. She was in her car – she could drive wherever she needed to go to find solace.
Her left leg spasmed at that moment, causing her thigh to come off the seat and bang painfully – pain! she could feel pain! – against the steering wheel.
Okay, so maybe driving wasn’t the safest option at the moment.
She dug in her coat pocket for her phone and called her mom, remembering just as the voicemail message clicked on that she was currently on a plane headed back to Vegas to sort out the sale of her house.
Shit!
She hung up and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the unfairness of…everything.
She took a deep breath. Woman up, Felicity!
Okay. New plan. She’d phone a taxi and check in to the nearest hotel and then…
Then she’d figure out how to live this new reality.
She hesitated in the action of scrolling to the taxi number, her eye caught by the name above her Mom’s in the contact list: Martin.
Her thumb hovered over his name as she debated calling him.
He couldn’t help with her current dilemma, seeing as he was hundreds of miles away in Ivy Town. But she suddenly had the overwhelming urge to talk to him – to someone. She felt ready to explode with the need to vent.
And she was feeling so…alone.
Not one of her friends had asked how she was feeling about the whole thing with William and Oliver. Maybe she was being unfair to them, and they were giving her some time to process, but still…it hurt.
And she didn’t feel like she could reach out to them right now. Thea had kept her brother’s secret; Laurel was dealing with her own issues regarding Oliver’s past infidelity. And Digg…she’d heard some of his conversation with Oliver as they’d prepared to engage Darhk (the whole team had problems remembering to mute their comms). He’d taken Oliver’s side, or at least that’s how it had felt, despite Oliver’s lack of honesty being such a big factor in their fallout last year.
So that left Martin.
Her ex-fiance’s ex-therapist.
But she remembered how insightful Martin had been during the joint session she’d attended with Oliver. How easy it was to open up to him, not least because of the confidentially clause binding their conversation. And when they’d met with him to explain their plans to return to Star City, he’d passed her a business card, with the offer to call anytime. He’d wished them good luck with a soft voice and a kind smile.
She could use a bit of kindness right now.
The phone rang twice before his lightly accented voice answered. “Hello, Martin Clark here.”
“Um, hi,” she stumbled, her voice croaking with unshed tears. She cleared her throat, sat up straight in her seat, and tried again. “Hi, Martin. It’s Felicity Smoak. I don’t know if you remember me-”
“Of course I remember you, Felicity,” he interjected. “It’s lovely to hear from you.”
The warmth in his voice relaxed her, and a tiny smile formed on her lips.
“I would ask how you and Oliver are doing back in the big city, but I...I saw the news footage about your…shooting. I’m so sorry.” The uncharacteristic falter in Martin’s voice, spoke to his sincerity.
“Thank you,” she replied, “But that’s not why I called. I don’t know why I called actually. Well, I do, but it’s a bit weird – you were never my therapist, but things have happened and I…”
“And you wanted to talk to someone. Well, seeing as I have at least an hour until my next appointment, why don’t you go ahead and talk to me. I take it this has something to do with Oliver – is he okay?”
“He has a son.” She blurted out the words, and they seemed to echo in the close confines of her car. The words – the concept – was still so strange to her.
Oliver was a father. He had a son.
A 10 year old boy.
And she didn’t even know what he looked like.
She’d relied on Samantha’s description of William to initiate the search algorithm, the other woman probably assuming that showing her a photo would be too much for Felicity. But Felicity Smoak could compartmentalise like a pro – she’d learned the skill from Oliver, after all. She could have handled it. Just as she’d handled his search – like a consummate professional. A reliable teammate. All whilst a ball of anger and pain had sat within her chest, threatening to smother the breath in her lungs.
And now, a perverse curiosity had overtaken her. Did William look like Oliver? Did he have Oliver’s clear blue eyes? His dimples? Was he tall and gangly, destined to grow to his father’s height?
She’d never know. And it didn’t matter. William had nothing to do with her, apparently. Bitter anger rose within her, bringing her back to her surroundings, and to the voice calling her.
“Felicity? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, sorry,” she replied, once again forcing her emotions down. Stick to the facts, Felicity. You can break down later. “He got a girl pregnant before the island and just found out about the child a couple of months ago.”
“That must have been quite the surprise – and quite an adjustment for the two of you.”
“It would have been, if he’d told me,” she spat, the bitter anger apparently still in residence despite her best efforts at detachment.
She explained – in as broad and non-vigilante way as possible – the circumstances of William’s reveal.
“Ah, I see.”
“You don’t sound too surprised.”
“That Oliver kept a secret? No, I guess I’m not. You know I can’t tell you anything specific about our sessions together, but suffice to say, that man had a lot of secrets. He was used to keeping them.”
“But not from me,” she whispered. She thought back to the evening in Ivy Town they’d spent sharing a glass of wine and their darkest secrets. With whispered confessions in front of a flickering fire, each word had bonded them down to the soul. She’d never felt so optimistic about their future together.
Even during their first few weeks in Star City, when Oliver had been so worried about descending back into the darkness, he been open with her. They’d communicated. Shared their thoughts and fears like true partners.
So why did he regress? Why was this secret so difficult to share, and so easy to keep?
Was it because it affected their present and their future in such a concrete way? The secrets Oliver had shared from years gone by had helped her understand him better, but they had no direct bearing on their relationship. A child, however… She would have been a stepmother. Is that what he worried about? Her acceptance of William in their life? They never did have that conversation about children…
Martin once again interrupted her thoughts. “I’m not condoning what he’s done. You had every right to know the man you were marrying had a son – a son he was in regular contact with, it appears.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
Martin chuckled. “You would be right. I think you need to work out why Oliver kept this from you.”
“I told you, he was given an ultimatum – keep his son a secret from everyone or lose access to him.”
“Perhaps that’s true – perhaps he agreed to abide by the terms of the ultimatum and then, as time passed and the lies mounted, he was afraid to reveal the truth because of this exact eventuality. However…I don’t think that’s the true reason – and I suspect you don’t either.”
Martin was right. It was never about the stupid ultimatum - Barry knew from the beginning and Oliver didn’t lose access to his son. Thea found out, and he didn’t lose access. If he’d told her, she would have kept his secret. Samantha would never have known.
When backed into a corner – when faced with impossible choices – Oliver always found another way. He didn’t capitulate to unreasonable demands – especially when they would hurt someone he cared about. Didn’t he prove that, on a rooftop with Malcolm and Nyssa, just a few weeks ago?
Oliver could have kept her, and his son.
If only he’d been honest with her.
“He didn’t trust me, to stick around when things got complicated. He didn’t have faith in our relationship,” she admitted in a whisper. Even after four years together, even after proving to him again and again that he could rely on her, that she would be there for him, he still kept himself apart.
She wanted a true partnership with him - that was what marriage meant to her. But he’d just demonstrated that he wasn’t capable of that yet.
Maybe he never would be…
Martin spoke again before her maudlin thoughts could lead to tears. “I understand that’s the way you feel as the one who was betrayed. But, I think, the person Oliver didn’t trust was himself. He didn’t have faith in himself. He was scared, Felicity.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oliver is still struggling to overcome a lot of guilt and self-hatred over his actions on the island – and even his actions before the island. And because of that, he has a hard time accepting the happiness that he’s found with you. My impression is that he sometimes feels undeserving of it. But he wants it – and you – so much, Felicity. I never doubted that. The way your love inspires him, motivates him, it’s truly wonderful.”
Felicity pressed the phone to her ear, as if to absorb the words into her damaged heart. Tears tracked down her cheeks and she was unable to silence a small sob.
“I’m sorry if this is hurting you to hear, Felicity. I just wanted to reassure you that Oliver’s lie had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with him. I believe he was scared that telling you this secret – yet another thing from his past that painted him in a negative light – would taint your opinion of him. That it would be the last straw and you would finally see him for who he really was, and leave him.”
“But I know he’s not that selfish playboy anymore - he’s a good man.”
“A man who has battle for years with feelings of self-loathing will find it hard to believe when people see the good in him. I imagine, when he found out the he had a son – one who was kept from him because of his past actions – that fed into his guilt and negative view of himself. Why should you understand and forgive him, when he couldn’t forgive himself?”
They were both silent for a moment, while Martin gave her the time to let his words sink in. “Thank you,” she finally said. “I’m not sure if I can accept everything you’ve said, but it’s given me some stuff to think about.”
“You’re welcome, Felicity. As I said, I’m not condoning Oliver’s actions. But I can understand them, if I look at them from his – somewhat skewed – frame of reference. Oliver will never react to situations like you or I would. He was shaped by horrendous and traumatic circumstances that altered him down to his core. The people in his life need to understand this. But, that doesn’t give him carte blanche to act like an idiot.”
Felicity huffed out a small laugh as Martin continued, “I think a break from your relationship is important for both of you. Oliver will hopefully see the impact of his actions, and that it was the lie and not the truth which hurt you. Maybe that will be the catalyst for some change in his thinking.”
“And me?”
“Well, I’m afraid you have a difficult to choice to make. Do you love Oliver enough – and want to be with him enough – to risk similar heartbreak in the future?”
Felicity sighed - a long, shaky exhale - and suddenly felt so tired. She barely paid attention as Martin ended the conversation and reiterated his promise to be only a phone call away. Her mind was churning with thoughts of her future.
Could she learn to trust Oliver again, knowing his propensity to lie might never really go away? Could she be with him – marry him – regardless of the risk to her heart?
Being abandoning by her father – someone she’d worshipped and adored – at such a young age had caused her to be so wary with her affection. And after Cooper, that wariness had turned to outright fear. She’d erected so many walls around her heart to protect herself. And then, brick by brick, Oliver Queen had torn them down. With every smile and touch. With every word of love. With every action of support and care, he’d demolished her defences until her fragile heart was left beating in his calloused hands.
And he hadn’t treated it with the care she’d expected.
Could she risk giving him her heart again?
Ugh, it was too much to think about now.
She was still too raw from the revelations of the past two days. Her pain was too acute. And thinking about Oliver only brought up the look of numb devastation in his eyes when she’d taken off her ring. That look would break her resolve to put space between them if she lingered on it too much.
She needed a distraction.
Work.
Work always helped.
It had helped when Cooper died. It had helped when Sara died. And when she’d thought Oliver had died, it was her only solace from the grief.
And she felt like she was grieving again. Grieving the loss of them. For better or for worse, they would never be the same.
An itch – and itch! - on her thigh focussed her attention back on the other astounding revelation she had to deal with.
She could walk again. She could actually walk!
The thought energised her. It broke through her wretched lethargy and she latched on to it with laser-like focus. The implications of Curtis’ miraculous technology were staggering. If it was mass-produced, millions of people across the world could benefit from it. This could be the legacy Ray always dreamed about for his company.
She would return to Team Arrow – the mission was as much her passion as anyone else’s on the team – and she would see Oliver again too. Their lives were too entwined to avoid him forever. But she would also take some time and space to think things through. There was so much to process, not just in terms of her relationship. She’d gone through so much in the last few months...
And hopefully Oliver would take this time to evaluate his life, and his choices, as well.
In the meantime, this new goal – bringing implantable biostimulators to the masses – would keep her occupied. And she was…excited about it. Who knew she could feel this way, just an hour after removing her engagement ring. After rejecting the promise it represented.
But she was excited.
Felicity Smoak could compartmentalise like a pro.
She once again flicked through the contact list on her phone and when the call connected, she had three words for the man on the other end of the line:
“Curtis, guess what?”