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The thoughts that were racing through Olivia’s mind were fast and hard and enough to fill her with tension that started behind her eyes and traveled through her skull, down her spine and settled into the grooves between bones and sinew. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could do this.
As she approached the door to her apartment she thought again about how lonely it was without Noah at home. With the way things had turned out she figured she would let him finish out the weekend with the McCanns and bring him home on Sunday.
Everyone who needed to be in jail was behind bars and the rest of the scum . . . they were scattered in the wind. It hadn’t been an easy case and it was disheartening to know the lengths some cops would go to for ‘the greater good’. That’s what Duarte had said. “I’m not going to throw away a whole year’s worth of investigation for a rape case,” was what he’d told her. And the tiny amount of grudging respect she’d begun to have for him had disappeared in the wind, too.
She was just so tired of it all. She missed coming home to someone who understood that. Brian had understood what the long days and longer nights did. He understood better than most how hard it was to completely immerse your life in the underground until you felt as dirty as the people you were trying to catch. Maybe she should call him. Commiserate over a beer or two. He wouldn’t expect anything from her. He would just be a shoulder to lean on.
But she quickly shook that thought away. It wouldn’t help, in the long run. She missed her friend. Amanda would have been all righteousness and anger. Her southern twang would have come to the forefront because she would have been pissed as hell. But Amanda was gone and Liv couldn’t pull her back into this life when she’d made it clear that it wasn’t for her anymore. Fin might be a viable source for comfort but she’d seen the look on his face. He needed Phoebe tonight.
It occurred to her that she could call Elliot. She could. He would come if she asked him to.
What a change that was from two years ago. Three years ago he’d been content to allow the silence between them to stretch across an ocean. Three years ago she had been only a memory to him. Then the tide had turned and once she’d begun to see that soft look in his eyes she knew that she had a choice to make with him. Either she stayed and left it up to him whether she drowned or not. Or she got out before he had a chance to pull her under. Thirteen years ago she would have ridden into hell by his side. But she wasn’t that woman anymore. And he wasn’t that man.
It still didn’t surprise her a whole lot when she turned the corner of her hallway and found Elliot seated outside her door. In truth, she’d expected him to be there earlier. Even with the wall she’d so carefully built to keep him out she knew that he wouldn’t let something like radio silence keep him away if he thought she was hurt and in danger. Elliot always liked to play the white knight.
“Why didn’t you call me?” were the first words out his mouth. But she saw his eyes caress her body, linger over her eye that was still bruised and make sure there were no other scrapes, bruises or holes inside of her. There weren’t any. None that you could see.
She didn’t answer, she only opened the door and left it open for him to follow after her. Sending him away would do nothing except leave them both frustrated.
“Where’s your detail?” was his second question. That one she could answer.
“Downstairs. One in the lobby, one in a squad car.”
He followed her into the kitchen and tossed his coat over the back of her couch on his way. She wanted to protest the gesture of familiarity. He was a guest in her home and he shouldn’t take liberties. But she said nothing about it. In this case it felt like the less she said the better.
When the kettle was on and two mugs were down she finally turned and gave him her full attention. He looked like shit. The lines around his eyes were deep grooves and his mouth was a tight line but it was his shoulders that told her the most. Elliot had a way of carrying himself that exuded strength and masculinity and the aura that he knew what was best for everyone. But right now . . . right now he looked old. When had they grown up?
He’d waited patiently while she did her little ritual with the tea but now he had stepped into her space and she could already feel the fight brewing inside of him. And she was just so tired.
There were a dozen things she wanted at that moment. She wanted to ask him to leave. She wanted to ask him to back off. She wanted Kathy to be alive and standing between the two of them. But mostly? Mostly she wanted . . .
She took a step forward until her body was pressed against his. He was surprised and his hands automatically went to her hips to hold her steady. She could have kissed him in that moment. All she had to do was lean forward. Instead she curled her body inwards and rested her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down until she could feel his quick breathing against the exposed skin of her neck.
The tears came easily but that was okay with her. He’d seen her cry a hundred times, what was once more?
His hand moved to the back of her head and he pressed her closer to him until their bodies were flush. It wouldn’t be difficult to seduce him. He wanted her. She was pretty certain she wanted him. It was a shame that two dozen years of history stood between them. It was a shame that a near four decade marriage had kept them so frozen that they’d forgotten how to move forward.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he whispered into her hair. She felt the soft brush of his breathing against her ear and closed her eyes. How many times had she wanted to be in this exact space? How many times had she fought the urge to wrap her body around his and give in to the comfort and love she knew he would give her?
“I wasn’t sure I wanted you here,” she finally answered back as honestly as she could. Because she was tired of the half truths they served one another. When had either one of them shied away from the truth or the hard answers? If they’d left things unsaid it was only out of respect for Kathy.
But Kathy wasn’t here anymore. Kathy was gone and Liv was here and that should have made things easier for them. Maybe that was part of the problem. If she made that move, if she let him make a move, then she would fall. She would fall without a parachute. She would freefall from her tower and she still couldn’t be certain that he would catch her. He’d run away once. Who was to say he wouldn’t do it again?
The hand that wasn’t in her hair moved from her hip to the small of her back and squeezed.
“I have always loved you,” he said and the words were loud in her silent kitchen. Loud until the sound of the whistling kettle pulled them apart. Her heart beat fast and she couldn’t look him in the eyes.
As she turned off her stove and poured out the steaming water into their mugs her hand was shaking. Rather than hand him his tea she set it on the table next to him and focused on her steaming cup rather than meet his gaze.
“It’s not going to work, Liv.” Against her protests he gingerly took the mug from her hands and once it was set beside his he tried to pull her back to him. She refused to budge.
So he took the step forward this time. And when he leaned forward to touch his forehead to hers she was surprised to feel hot tears on his face. At first she thought they were hers but when she opened her eyes she saw him. Had she ever been so close to him before?
“I love you,” he whispered again. “I know I hurt you. I know that. I can’t undo it but I would if I could. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you.”
There was a brief struggle with him where she tried to pull away but he would not let her.
“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked again. Because her answer had not been satisfying.
Tears came to her eyes and she wondered if she should lay the truth in front of him. Maybe for once they should just come clean about it all.
“I didn’t need you,” she said. She said it without malice or anger. She said it like the truth it was. She hadn’t needed him. Wanted, yes, maybe. But gone were the days when she looked over her shoulder expecting to see him two steps behind her. Gone were the days when she lived in the comfort of knowing he had her back.
“Maybe not,” he conceded to her surprise. And didn’t that say more about his state of mind than anything else. Elliot Stabler was admitting he wasn’t her white knight. “But I still would have been here. I still would have . . .” he trailed off. What would he have done? He’d have moved heaven and earth to protect her. He would have fought through an army of gang bangers and he would have killed anyone who tried to hurt her. But she didn’t need his pit bull determination anymore. She had enough moxie of her own. What she needed . . . what she needed . . .
She turned her face until her lips were on his cheek and she kissed away the tear that had fallen there. He shuddered in her arms. “But I wanted you.”
If there was a time to lay all her cards on the table then it might as well be right now, while she had the courage to speak her truth.
His arms tightened around her and she had no choice but to return his embrace. “I can take care of you.” He said it like a benediction. He said it the way he might have said a Sinner’s Prayer. He said it like an oath.
“Will you stay?” she asked and her voice sounded small and weak. She turned her head enough so that her cheek was resting on his shoulder but her face was pressed against his neck.
“I’m not going anywhere, Liv.” It felt like he would have carved his body open and pulled her into the recesses of his soul if he could have. When had she ever been loved like this before? “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
She closed her eyes and the tears flowed freely between them.