She's alone in her apartment, their apartment. Her beau is at work, and she is home alone. After a sixteen hour day sleep should come easily, but it doesn't offer itself to her. She sits on her couch with a bottle of wine, just drowning her sorrow. Each night she finds herself reaching for one more glass. In the morning she empties the evidence into the dumpster before he can find it. When he's home she tries to hide the hurt, and the pain. She tries to hide her demons.

She tries not to think about how far she's come, and how no matter how far she gets, she's always stuck. Nearly fifteen years, and she's right back where she started. Same guy, different apartment. Same job, different title. This isn't how she picture her life going. Most of the time she puts on a brave front. The truth is most of the time she completely consumed by anger, and pain.

She feels trapped in a life that she can no longer control. She wants someone to call her out, and make her face her demons. She wishes they would stop treating her with kid gloves, but they continue to tiptoe around her. She closes her eyes momentarily, just to blink away tears. She finds herself wrapped up in missed opportunities, and a feeling of emptiness. A feeling of longing for someone who isn't there.

The sound of someone banging on her door brings her back to reality. She wipes her eyes, and swallows the contents of her glass. She takes a deep breath, and rises from the couch. As she approaches the door she looks at her watch. She's not sure who could be at her door at this hour. She's still dressed in her work clothes despite the fact that she's been home for nearly two hours. She stops at the door, and reaches for the gun that is still holstered on her hip. She peers out her peephole, and un-holsters her weapon. She places the gun on the table in the entry way, and reaches for the locks.

She exhales as she hears the sound of the pin, and tumbler. She pulls open the door, and stares at him in confusion, and disbelief. He stands in her doorway, smirking at her. He instantly picks up on her questioning look. He takes a step towards her.

"Can I come in he asks?"

She swallows hard, "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"How did you find me?" She questions, genuinely concerned.

"I have connections," he smiles.

"You have some nerve," she responds.

"Can I come in?"

She nods, and takes a step back. He enters the apartment, and she closes the door behind him. She takes a deep breath, and inhales his all too familiar scent.

"What are you doing here? After all of this time, you have no right..." the vein in her head pulsates in anger.

He cuts her off, "Liv, I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't enough."

"Can I explain, please?" He begs.

"I haven't heard from you in two years. You can't just walk in here after all this time, and expect me to forgive you. You walked away, without a word."

"I am so sorry."

"Stop apologizing. Just tell me what you're doing here."

"I heard your with Cassidy."

"You don't get to have an opinion on that," she tells him.

"I know."

"What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to explain why I've been so hard to reach."

"I really don't care."

"After I left I did a lot of soul searching. I found myself in the middle east on a government contract for the last eighteen months."

"Why would I care?"

"I still care about you," he tells her as he moves closer.

She shakes her head, "Don't! Don't come in here, and mess with my head. I am not going down this road."

"Are you happy?"

"Are you?" She shoots back at him.

He holds up his left hand for her to see. "What do you think?"

"That doesn't mean anything to me."

"Olivia, I am unhappily unmarried. I was unhappily unmarried."

"I don't want to hear it."

"Yes, you do."

"No," she argues.

"I want you. All I have ever wanted is you."

"I don't want to hear it, Elliot. You can't come in here after all of this time, and expect me to just drop everything for you. I waited long enough. I am not going to throw away everything that I have worked for, just so that I can end up hurt, and alone, again. Please go," she turns away from him.

"I love you."

She spins around, and glares at him, "And I loved you, in the past."

"Something tells me that you still do."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Don't you wonder what would happened?"

"I am tired of waiting for something that is never going to happen."

"Here I am."

"Now you know what it feels like for the only person that you want to be with to tell you that now isn't the time. It is never going to be the right time for us. Okay?"

He grabs her arm, and pulls her close. She stares into his mesmerizing blue eyes. "No."

She tries to push him away. He doesn't budge.

"Olivia who the hell do you think that you're fooling? You're home alone. At what point are you going to realize that you are turning into exactly the person that you don't want to be."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She cocks an eyebrow.

"You smell like alcohol. How many nights this week have you found yourself in the bottom of a bottle? You might be in a relationship, but you are never going to be happy if you don't face you demons. You have to face the truth. You can't bottle everything up inside, and hope that it will go away. It won't."

"What does any of this have to do with you? Why are you here?"

"I am not the only one who is worried about you."

She cocks an eyebrow, "What do you mean."

"I got a call from Fin."

"Fin? He doesn't even like you."

"He is worried about you. He sees it. He can see through you, too."

"Why would he call you?"

"He thought I could help you."

"I don't want your help," she argues.

He pulls her closer. She feels her breath hitch, realizing that this moment has finally come to fruition. She stares into his eyes, and she can't hold onto her control anymore. She presses her lips against his.