Divorce.
Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that word would give him so much relief. But after almost 25 years of marriage, he was at peace.
He no longer had to live a life of Catholic obligation. He could finally bare his soul to Olivia and tell her that he loved her, but his longing for an intact family outweighed his lust. He knew she would welcome him with open arms. He knew how she felt about him, and he believed her loyalty towards him would trump her anger at his abrupt departure. Even after four years, he had absolute faith in her devotion.
He opened his mailbox and saw a large manila envelope crammed into the corner. He glanced at the package, and his heart skipped a beat. He recognized her meticulous penmanship anywhere, but there was no return address. That's not a good sign. His eyes combed the envelope for more clues of what lay inside.
He returned to his apartment and cautiously opened the envelope. A flat, metal object fell out and collided with the hard linoleum. A piece of paper also slipped out, but he didn't notice right away. His eyes were rooted to the object on the floor; the same item he had given to Olivia four years prior. Semper Fi. With trembling hands, he picked up the medal with his right hand and the piece of paper with his left. He read the letter and choked back a sob; its four terse sentences shattered his fantasy like glass:
I am happy.
I've moved on.
I'll never forget you, but it's time for me to let you go.
Goodbye, Elliot.
~Olivia Benson-Amaro
An unceremonious end of an era. No nicknames. No emotions. No love lost. And there—in the middle of the page—was the cruelest blow of them all. The hyphen in her signature pierced his heart like a spear. A-m-a-r-o. Five letters, mocking him, exposing the gut-wrenching reality in front of him. Even the feel of the cold medal in his hand couldn't erase the still vivid delusions of a future with Olivia from his mind. But those five letters hit him harder than a fist cracking his jaw. He traced his fingertips over her married name and felt a succession of stabbing pains, as if each individual letter had carved itself into his flesh.
The tears scorched his cheeks and rained down on the paper until it became an ink blotted mess.