CW: Mention of Miscarriage

She was pregnant when he died.

That threw Oliver for a loop as he sat there, looking at the woman across from him. He tried picturing how alone she was when she lost the baby, and how she was able to hide it from everyone, including Lilly Hamilton-every knows that nothing goes by the Gossip Queen of ATL's nose, nothing. He didn't even know what to ask her, so he kept quiet and let her talk through it all.

"I was so excited when I found out I was pregnant," Rosalie explained, a faint smile appearing on her face. "Our child will take Elijah's title once he came of age, and I would dress him up so cutely....but then Elijah was killed, and three days later I lost the baby. I was scared, you know? I was so scared. But then Lorelai was there, and she helped me get through everything. From burying Elijah and the baby in private to keeping it covered up, because I didn't want to come out vulnerable as I was when I found out when Eli died. I didn't even tell my dates this."

By this point tears were in eyes as she wiped them away, but Olivier grabbed her wrist and shook his head. He wanted to see the tears, how strong she was after going through all of this. "D-Did you know, that I fear that if my dates found out about this, they would dump me and never see me again?" she asked. "And yet, I'm telling you, the man I..." she stopped as she sniffled, and he grabbed a tissue from beside him to pass to her. Rosalie pulled a couple and blew into them. "Man I hate. In fact, I don't even know why I'm telling you."

Grabbing her face, Olivier tilted it up so she can look at him. "Because you're strong," he told her. "You told me because you trust me, Rosie."

Rosalie looked at him, confused for a moment before she started to laugh weakly. She reached up and placed her hand over his, finding herself liking the feel of his big hand on her cheek, and she leaned into it slowly.

Trust was one of the big issues she had when it came to men. With Elijah it was almost easy, to slip into that world of trust, but when he died and she didn't have him anymore, her trust went away. It was there on the surface, but she could never trust another man with her secrets. So why was it so damned easy again when it came to this man? The man she hated so much?

Because you like him, Rosie, a small voice said in her mind.

That made her look down and realize that she was wearing only her pink striped Victoria's Secret slik robe, and he was wearing a simple red L.L. Bean flannel pajamas and half naked. "Oh..." she started, looking back up in those damnable brown eyes of Olivier's. She reached out and pulled him close to her, wondering what this drunk feeling was she was feeling when she leaned forward to kiss him.

Olivier kissed her back slowly, feeling her pull him down on top of her, her arms slipping around his neck.

Her kisses were like wildfire to him.

He wanted to devour her right then, strip her naked and make love to her. The kisses had gotten more feverish, more faster as Rosalie murmured his name, and he knew right then and there that she wanted to make love to him. "Rosie," he breathed, reaching up to untangle himself from her.

"No," she whined, pulling him back towards her. "No, Olivier, please, no, make love to me."

Shaking his head, he finally untangled himself from her and shook his head. "Oh mäi Schatz," he whispered. How many times has he heard women asking him to pleasure them? He wanted to do that to Rosalie, pleasure her till she screams. "I want to make love to you, I do. But not now. Not when you're vulnerable and broken like this."

Sitting up, catching her breath, lips swollen, she looked at him. "When?" she asks him.

"When it's right," he answers. "Not when you're thinking of him. Not when you want to say his name right now."

Sighing and nodding, Rosalie scoots from the bed. "You're right," she said, going into the kitchen. Olivier follows, watching her pull out pots and pans and things to make for breakfast. "Normally, I would have my maid, Irena, would be here, but she's taking the morning off, so it's just us." Rosalie chuckled as she fixed them some spinach, cheddar, and bacon omelet, toast and some link sausage. Glasses of orange juice were fixed between them as they ate in silence. Rosie's mind was on what she just did earlier, nearly making love to forget the world for one day, for one moment in Olivier's arms. Just to hold him and feel him-

No! Her mind screamed at her. You don't want to sleep with him.

But a part of her does. A part of her wants to sleep with Olivier, just to feel alive again. She knew he was a damned good kisser-one kiss and she's weak in the knees for him, the kisses going through her like wildfire. She wondered about his touch and wondered if it was true, if his touch could just make her scream as loud as she wanted to. But another part was scared of him seeing her surgery scar when she had to go to the hospital when she lost her baby. What would he think about it?

"We'll be late if we don't hurry up," she said after the silence that she felt like was going to drive her insane. "Then tonight we have the Sapphire Ball to go to." The question, will you make love to me before then? Was on the tip of her tongue, but she pushed it away before she could speak it, seeing him nod as he wiped his mouth and put his plate and cup in the sink before he went to get dressed.

Olivier stopped and turned to face her. "Rosie," he called quietly. He tapped the side before finally looking up at her. "After the ball...I...I want to. Badly." he admitted before he left and went to take a shower.

His words made her smile a bit as she got up and placed her things in the sink and went to get dressed in her new light blue INTERMIX Ariana floral silk dress with a huge blue hat she borrowed from her sister, and her old Valentino Garavani Torchon rockstud espadrille wedges. She stopped when she picked up her huge Cartier diamond wedding ring, toying with it in her hand before she slowly slipped it on her finger, almost like a reminder that Sir Elijah was still there, and that what she was doing wasn't cheating on him, even though he's gone and he left.

Taking a deep breath and giving herself a couple spritz of Alien eau de parfum by Mugler and slipping on some Van Cleefs and Arpels' earrings, she was ready to go. Picking up her clutch, she walked out of her room to find Olivier waiting on her, wearing a Polo Ralph Lauren oxford shirt that fits him just right, Tom Ford pants, Gucci loafers and his Daniel Wellington watch. Prada aviator sunglasses was on his face, and he looked downright scrumptious as he got up and put the sunglasses on his head.

"Ready?" he asked, offering his arm. "I already called the car, it's parked outside now, waiting on us."

Eyes widening at how quick he was to get the car, she took his arm. "Lead the way, Monsieur Barthel," she purred, making him laugh as he led her to the black Cadillac Escalade that waited on them.

Like yesterday, when Olivier and Lady Rosalie walked in the room, all eyes turned to them. Soon all the whispering started, and everyone called them the new 'It Couple', though to one Lilly Hamilton, who just glared at them, she didn't think so.

"Everyone's doing it again, sister," Decker murmured as he drank a bit of his sweet tea. "Seems like you and Barthel are a hit. When's the wedding?"

"Shut up," Rosalie rolled her eyes at her brother's question, smacking him on the arm when he made a face at her.

Once it was time to watch the races, both Olivier and Rosalie went back to the Belvedere private box, but with a surprise: Astrid and Genevieve and their husbands were there. Decker brought him a box and wanted to watch the races by himself, but to Rosalie, seeing her girls made her feel so much better as she hugged them.

"So?" Genevieve said once they said down. "Did you..." her voice trailed off as she wiggled her eyebrows over at Olivier before crossing her fingers in the most obscene way, making Astrid and Rosalie laugh, shaking their heads.

"Nope, not yet," Rosalie admitted, watching one of the horses fly by them. "He said maybe tonight we can..." she trailed off, getting nervous about the beginning of the night of the Sapphire Ball-before they even get there. "And y'all know I haven't...you know...since Elijah."

Astrid sighed and rolled her eyes. "Sweetie, you know you can say sex, right?" she told her. "It's not a dirty word."

"But I feel like sex is all we talk about."

"Not precisely," Genevieve got up and went to grab the bottle of Veuve Clicquot and poured them some rose. "We talk about love, relationships, shopping...and then...." she passed one of the glasses to Rosalie while she passed a glass of Apple Juice to Astrid, "we talk about sex again."

That made both Astrid and Rosalie laugh, while the men looked over to them, wanting to ask what they were talking about before shaking their heads. They never know when it comes to the girls what they are talking about once their heads are put together, but both Prescott and Raegan turn to Olivier, who was looking at the girls quite skeptically.

"Are they...alright?" he asked after a outburst of laughter came from the three heads.

"Don't worry about them," Prescott assured him. "This is what they do each time they get together. They've been like that since they were little, so we just let them have their fun and talk about us, then shopping, then sex." he said, laughing when Olivier nearly choked on his drink.

"What?!" he choked out, catching his breath as both Raegan and Prescott laughed at his reaction.

"Dude, it's all good. When they come up for air, they'll tell us." Raegan assured him, as they sat down and started betting on the races, letting the women talk and laugh uproariously at whatever they were talking about.