Thanks for the reviews! This chapter provides a little more insight into the past...but doesn't fully answer everything. That will come with time...I promise. Enjoy!
"I'm sorry I'm so late Lucy," she called as she pushed open the door to her apartment. "I got held up with things."
"That's okay," Lucy grabbed her bag and headed toward the door. "He's doing better…still coughing some, but no fever today at all." She stopped, noticing the man standing next to Olivia and glancing at her boss.
Olivia sighed, "This is a friend of mine," she said looking toward Elliot. "Elliot…my sitter, Lucy." Elliot extended his hand, shaking the younger woman's hand and she smiled.
"Do you need me at regular time tomorrow?" Lucy asked, "Or would you rather I come a little later…"
Olivia knew what she was implying and as much as she liked this young woman she wished she were a little less forward about things, "Regular time, Lucy…" she sighed. "Goodnight." The young woman nodded and walked out the door.
Olivia walked over to Noah's crib where the baby was sleeping, and leaned over to gently brush his hair out of his face, noticing Lucy was right about the fever…it was gone finally. She motioned toward the couch, "Make yourself at home," and Elliot sat down, looking around the room.
"You moved," he said, almost as if he were telling her something she didn't already know. "When?"
"Last year…" she answered, not wanting to go into much more detail. He didn't need to know she'd lived there with Brian or that they'd moved there after the Lewis ordeal because she'd been too sickened to walk back into her apartment.
"It's nice," he said, "Big…how can you afford this place?" he asked seriously.
She walked over to the sofa, starting to sit but then deciding to move to the chair instead. "I got a good deal on it," she said, not that it was really any of his business. Then she thought about his place, and she wondered if he was questioning how he'd ended up there while she'd ended up here. She wondered it herself. "You want something to eat?" she asked. "I can make something…"
He chuckled a little, "You're gonna cook?" he asked. "Are you serious?"
"I can cook," she insisted.
"In twelve years I don't think I ever saw you near a stove," he laughed.
"That's because I could always convince you to take me out somewhere instead," she laughed, and then stopped herself, realizing the playful banter was going to get uncomfortable. They weren't the same people they'd been back then, and they both needed to realize that. She stood up and walked to the kitchen, looking through the refrigerator, "Grilled chicken salad?" she asked.
"Sounds fine," he replied quickly.
She pulled out the ingredients, noticing a bottle of wine in the back of the fridge. She hadn't done much drinking since Noah had entered her life, and she'd forgotten it was there. She pulled it out, hiding it deep in the back of a cabinet and hoping Elliot hadn't noticed. The last thing either of them needed was for him to find alcohol at her place. She put the chicken on the stove, splashing the pieces with lemon juice and then cutting lettuce, tomatoes, and carrots to pile on the plates. When the chicken was done, she sliced it, laying it on top of the salad and brought the plated to the living room, handing him his.
He looked at it and smiled, "I don't think I've eaten anything green in at least three months…maybe longer. Unless you count the cheese in the fridge last week that I cut the mold off of…"
"That's disgusting," she grimaced, sitting back in the chair and taking a bite of her food.
He smiled at her, "This looks good, Liv…thanks," and he took a bite.
The baby started to cry, and she put her plate down, walking over to the crib and picking him up. She held him in her arms, letting him rest his head on her shoulder, "It's okay sweetie," she whispered. "Mama's home…"
He watched her with her son and so many questions went through his head. Who was the baby's father? Why was she all alone now? Did she miss their child when she cuddled her new baby, or had she simply pushed that memory aside? He didn't dare ask any of them though, so instead he said, "He's beautiful, Liv…" and suddenly he wasn't hungry anymore, sitting his plate on the coffee table, content to stare of her with her son.
She smiled back at him, "Thanks…"
Damn it…what a rotten day! Why couldn't things ever be easy? She put the groceries on the counter, taking off her jacket and looking down at the vest she was wearing, wondering if it had been a poor choice for the day. She'd left the top button undone because of her swollen chest and the bottom one unbuttoned since her stomach felt puffy, and she hoped no one had noticed. She unbuttoned the rest of it, walking into her bedroom and changing into sweats and a tshirt. She hadn't realized until she pulled it on that it was Elliot's Marine Corps shirt, and she knew she should take it off, but it felt so soft and she craved the comfort at that moment, so she left it on.
She went back to the kitchen, unpacking the groceries and grabbing a box of cookies from the bag, opening it and eating a couple. No wonder she was already feeling so fat. She put them in the cabinet and pulled out an apple instead, enjoying it much less than the cookies. Thinking about the day, she wanted to cry. Tripp Raines was dead. Thirteen year old Arturo had killed him, and while she'd thought at first it was because of his crush on Ella, the truth came out pretty quickly. When they looked at Arturo's mother's bank account and saw the large chunks of cash deposited, the other detectives had thought it was some sort of pay off for information she'd learned when she worked as the Raines maid…but Olivia knew the truth. Arturo was the ambassador's son and he was paying his mother to keep their secret. When she'd said it, she noticed the look Nick gave her…maybe the case did hit a little too close to home for her afterall.
She thought about Arturo, killing his half-brother in anger, wanting more than anything for his father to accept him, to claim him as his own…and while she didn't know what would happen to the boy now, all she could think about was her own child. She never wanted her child to feel like that…to feel unloved, unwanted, disclaimed by his own father…and she knew now more than ever that she could never let anyone know Elliot was her child's father. She had to stick to the sperm donor story and make sure her child knew how much she wanted him…how she'd chosen to have a baby without a father because the child was so much more important than any man…she was committed to that now. It was the only way.
As if he could read her mind from afar, her phone rang and she looked at it, not even surprised to see it was Elliot. She was ready to tell him good-bye for good…to make sure he knew the baby was hers and hers alone…so she picked up the phone and answered, "Hello…" but the tears started to flow before she could stop them and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't control it.
"Liv…" his voice quivered. "I'm sorry…"
"Don't say that," she cried. "Just don't…it's over…we're over…"
"Kathy saw you yesterday," he said and she wondered why he'd brought that up right now.
"I know…" was all she could say. "I didn't say anything…I would never…"
"She said you were on the abortion floor…that you were crying…" his voice cracked and she suddenly knew what he was thinking. She didn't know what to say. How could he think she would do something like that? "When you said you wished there was no baby…I didn't think you meant it…"
She knew she should clear up his misconceptions, but she was hurt and she was tired and right now she just wanted to make everything go away. "I don't want to talk to you…" she sobbed.
"Liv…why would you do that?" he asked, and she could tell his voice was shaking in pain and anger. "If you didn't want the baby…"
"YOU didn't want the baby," she reminded him. "YOU said I should get rid of it…" She wasn't even sure why she was so angry…maybe her hormones were out of whack or maybe she was just a bitch. She couldn't listen to him anymore.
"I asked you to think about giving it up…" he said, and then she heard the tears in his own voice, "Not kill it…"
"Just leave me alone," she pleaded. "Please…just be with your wife…with your family…and leave me the hell alone."
"I don't even know you anymore," he said sadly.
"You're right," she cried. "I don't think you ever did…" She hung up the phone and threw herself down on the sofa, bawling hysterically. He thought she'd aborted their baby…and she'd let him think it. He'd never forgive her, but she didn't care. In that moment it seemed like the only way to protect her child from the one person who could hurt them both more than anyone, and even though she knew she wasn't thinking clearly, she couldn't make herself call him back to tell the truth.
"We're gonna be okay," she whispered, drying her eyes and caressing her stomach gently. "Mommy loves you…" she said sadly. "And we only need each other."
She didn't bother putting the rest of the groceries away. She went to her room, staring at the ultrasound photo on her nightstand and knowing she'd made the right choice for her baby. He couldn't end up like Arturo…he couldn't know his father didn't want him. She knew if she stayed in New York that Elliot would eventually find out she'd lied, so she made the decision then and there to move. She'd never lived anywhere else, but she could research where to go…L.A., Chicago, Boston…someplace where she could start over with her baby and no one would look at them with pity or wonder why her child had no father. Someplace where no one knew Elliot…where no one cared about her…but she had to leave soon, before she started to really show…before she talked herself out of going.
"We can do this little one…" she sighed. "A month from now…I won't have to think about Elliot Stabler ever again." In her heart, she knew she was lying.
"Here's a blanket…and a couple of pillows," she handed them to him and he took them from her. "If you need anything…"
"I'm fine," he insisted. "This is fine…thanks…"
She nodded, walking over to the crib where Noah had fallen back to sleep and picking him up carefully. "I'll take him to my room," she said softly, trying not to wake the little boy. "In case he cries…"
"You don't have a baby monitor?" he asked. "Liv…come on…"
"I don't want him to bother you," she admitted. "He's been sick…he wakes up crying…"
"Babies wake up crying," he said. "I know that…he won't bother me. Let him sleep in his bed…he needs his rest if he's been sick."
She lay the baby back in his crib, "Why don't you take my room then?" she suggested. "I'll stay out here with him."
"You look tired…and you said the couch wasn't very comfy," he told her. "I don't want to put you out of your room."
"I just…" she looked unsure, not knowing how to finish what she wanted to say.
"You don't trust me with your kid?" he asked. "Is that it?"
"No…" she shook her head. "No El…of course not…that's not what I meant…"
"I won't touch him," Elliot said. "If he cries…I'll come get you…"
She sighed, "You can touch him," her eyes filled with tears. "I didn't mean that…I'm just worried about him…he's been sick…"
"Okay," he said, and she couldn't tell if he was angry or hurt. He leaned back on the couch, pulling the covers over him and closed his eyes, "Goodnight…" he said.
"Goodnight," she whispered, making her way down the hall to her room. Then she fell back on the bed and cried herself to sleep.
More to come...
