Prologue

Olivia glances around the apartment they have been sharing for the last four months and marvels at the idea that it only takes two suitcases full of her belongings to completely alter the look of the space. Her books are no longer scattered around the coffee and end tables. The gray sweatshirt that they share keeps her warm instead of lying over the back of the couch. It's the only item that is not wholly hers and not wholly his, the one that she can't bear to leave behind. She wonders if he'll miss it; if he'll miss her, because God knows she will miss him.

She'll miss waking up in his arms to find him already awake and studying her face. She'll miss the late nights after work filled with pizza, beer, and laughter. She'll even miss the mess he makes of putting away their laundry or cooking them dinner.

It doesn't matter what she will miss though. What matters is saving what is left of their relationship, and after this past week she's come to the conclusion that the only way for her to do that is to leave.

"We both chose each other over the job. We can never let that happen again. Otherwise...we can't be partners."

She never thought in a million years he would be the one to suggest and end to their partnership. Sure, she didn't think it would never happen, but she thought it would come from the Brass, their Captain even, but never from Elliot.

"I can't believe you're saying that."

In the moment she couldn't. Her brain was still too muddled from the thought of losing him, possibly from her own hand, that the mere thought of him suggesting an end to their partnership was unimaginable. But as she walks around their apartment for a final once-over, she realizes she does understand. She will always choose him over the job, there is no part of her that believes otherwise.

"You and this job are about the only things I've got anymore. I don't want to wreck that. I couldn't take it."

This too she understands, because it is the same way for her. She had wanted to tell him as much, but he had walked away before she could utter a single syllable. She thinks maybe if they had been able to talk he would be here with her, maybe snuggled up on the couch, telling her how much he loves her rather than her standing in front of their door alone.

But they hadn't talked and so she deposits her car key and the key to the apartment on the counter by the note she's left him, grabs both suitcases, and walks out just as she hears the taxi pull up outside.

She is thankful they live – lived - she no longer lives here, the luggage in her hands makes that perfectly clear- on the first floor so it makes the trip a little easier. The cabbie spots her and rushes around to the back to open the trunk and help her load her belongings into it.

"Heading out of town for a while?" He asks with a thick Brooklyn accent that reminds her of him.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." She replies, only she knows a while could also mean forever if she has it her way.

Once both of her suitcases sit snugly in the carpet lined interior of the trunk the man heads back to the front. She takes a few minutes to compose herself, also making sure she hasn't forgotten anything important inside. Her hand reaches up to close the trunk when light suddenly floods onto the rear window of the cab, casting a fluorescent glow into the dark, blustery night.

She sighs heavily as the engine shuts off, casting the cab back into complete darkness. She had been trying to avoid this, being as quick as she could packing up her things, knowing he might arrive any second and try to talk her out of this. And she had almost succeeded. Almost.

"Liv?" His voice is rough, ragged, tired, and cautious, not something she is used hearing in him.

She shuts the trunk and turns around, her eyes downcast. "Please, Elliot...please, don't try to stop me."

"Stop you?" He questions and the genuine confusion in his voice causes the tears she's been holding back to fill her lids.

There's a beat and then she hears him puff out a breath in understanding.

"Oh." He breathes, and she watches as his feet shuffle a little closer. "Liv, if this is about what I said at the hospital, just...just forget it. I didn't mean any of it."

She lets out an amused chuckle causing a few tears to spill down her face. "Yes, you did. It's okay, you don't have to lie about it."

He takes another step and she can see his hand as it reaches towards her face and when it reaches its destination, it takes all of her self-control not to lean into it as he brushes her tears away. "Olivia, please don't do this. We can figure this out. I promise if you just-"

She stops him with a finger to his lips. After a few seconds she removes it and shakes her head slowly. "You and I both know that's not true. This has gone too far, to the point where we can't even focus on the job anymore. Like you said, we chose each other and we can't let that happen anymore."

"What do you mean 'too far'?" He whispers, drawing his hand back.

She misses the warmth instantly and already regrets the words she knows she has to say to convince him to let her go. "Us. We let things go too far, we got too close."

"I still don't understand."

She shuts her eyes tight against the tears and bites down on her bottom lip so hard she draws blood. The coppery taste is still on her tongue when she speaks again. "I-I lead you on. I'm sorry, I just don't feel the same way."

His hand is on her chin in an instant, tipping her face up so they are at eye level for the first time since he arrived. She watches as he studies her face intently, searching, she thinks, for any sign of doubt in her features.

"If you really want to leave, I won't stop you, but first I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that these past few months haven't meant anything to you. Look me in the eyes and tell me that all of this has just been an act. Tell me..." He pauses, his icy blues locking onto her chocolate browns. "Tell me that you don't love me."

This is what she had been most afraid of, actually having to speak the words out loud. She takes a few moments to memorize the way his face looks, the way his other hand moves to her wrist and lightly fingers the grey material that covers it, the way his chest rises and falls heavily only a few inches from hers. She tries to memorize all these things and more, because she wants to remember him before the devastation, before the lie that will soon come spilling out of her mouth changes the way he will look at her forever.

Knowing she will break down if she tries to answer every request she chooses the most important one. The biggest lie of them all.

"I don't love you."

Before another second passes between them she quickly moves out of his hold and walks around the car. She slides in, shuts the door tightly, and apologizes for the delay.

"S'not a problem." The man answers, looking at her through the rear view mirror. "Where to?"

"JFK." She answers, pulling her seatbelt on.

The metal clicks into place just as the idling taxi pulls out into traffic. She fights against every bone in her body that is urging her to turn around and give him one last fleeting glance.

Don't do it. It'll only make it hurt that much more, screams her brain.

This might be the last time you ever see him, her heart counters.

So, like she has done several times that week, she listens to her heart and turns around. He has moved several feet forward from where they had been standing like he had tried to run after the car for a few seconds. His arms hang limply at his sides and his whole body radiates defeat. The sight of him like this kills her and to know she is the cause of his pain breaks her. She is about to turn around when he raises a hand up and gives a slight wave in her direction.

A sob bubbles up from deep within her chest and she covers her mouth with a hand before it can escape. She turns around and slides down lower in the seat trying to take deep, slow breaths. She can't break down here, not in front of a complete stranger, not when the only man who could comfort her is still so close.

She won't shed another tear until she's far away from this place. Far away from the guilt, from the hurt, from the love, from the fault.