Chapter Text
I do know what it means to love someone unconditionally.
He’d been regretting those words ever since he’d said them. No, actually, to be completely truthful – which he supposed he must be, at least to himself – those first few seconds had felt good. Wonderful even. Empowering. These last few months he’d lived with a perpetual knot in his stomach. Being at odds with Olivia felt dreadful and not being able to do anything about it because she wouldn’t even talk to him… He’d felt helpless. He hated feeling helpless. Such a dark, powerless feeling. He’d gone into law to stop feeling helpless. So to say that, to finally take back control, get the last word… That had felt good.
Until she’d called him back, said I miss you too and turned the tables again. Now he just felt sick.
He’d used words, his weapon of choice, his passion, his art. To hurt her. To hurt her.
And not just any words. He’d told the woman that he loved, that he loved her. Unconditionally. To hurt her. Veiled, of course, even now he was too much of a coward to tell her unequivocally. But he knew that she knew what he meant.
God! Even his thoughts sounded convoluted. He needed to stop before he gave himself a headache.
He stopped, literally. Closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Didn’t care that he’d stopped in the middle of a New York sidewalk, busy despite the hour. He realised he wasn’t even quite sure where he was. He’d left Forlini’s blindly. Not really caring where he went, just needing to get out. To get away from her.
He looked around, immediately recognizing the street. He was only two blocks away from his apartment. Apparently he’d made the trek from Forlini’s to his apartment building so many times as an ADA, he could get there on auto-pilot.
The lights ahead just changed to green, so he continued, lengthening his strides to hasten his return home. Suddenly he needed to be inside. He needed to shut himself away from the world to lick his wounds. To nurse his broken heart. To mourn his relationship with Olivia.
He practically slammed the door behind him in his haste, before sagging against it. He’d lost her and he knew it. Oh he’d lost her months before, when he took Wheatley’s case. He just hadn’t known it yet. Before he’d hoped that they’d work it out, that they’d be able to repair their relationship. Now, he knew that was impossible. Despite his words about being there when she stopped feeling betrayed by him, he knew that would never happen. Even if he hadn’t betrayed her before, he’d betrayed her now. He’d betrayed himself.
As he poured himself a drink, spilling some of the expensive liquid because his hands were shaking, he recognized that this wasn’t the last time he’d see Olivia Benson. In their line of work, he was bound to see her around he courthouse. Perhaps even as a witness in one of his cases. But he’d never be more than opposing council to her. Perhaps that was even worse than not seeing her at all.
He set the decanter down with a bit more force than he intended. Frustrated by his lack of self-control, he took an iron-tight grip over his emotions, picked up his tumbler and took calm, measured steps to his favourite chair. The one that normally made him feel imposing, but that now swallowed him up. Slowly, almost lazily he sat down. Anyone seeing him now would never guess at his racing heart, the icy tendrils of despair flowing down his spine.
But no one was watching. He was alone in his apartment, feigning a composure that he didn’t feel for an audience that wasn’t there. Pretending that he wasn’t crumbling.
Alone in the darkness, he drank.