Someone wise once said that death is not the greatest loss in life, but the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. We have the power to set things in motion, we make decisions each and every day, and every decision we make has a consequence. We plan for what's ahead, make sacrifices, choices and stick by our convictions, we fool ourselves into believing that we have complete control over our lives, that we create our destiny. In the grand scheme of things we control so little but continue to find solace In the ignorance that we actually possess free will.

Because even if we have all our ducks in a row, a clear cut plan, a fool proof sketch of what we want to happen and how we want it to happen, once we roll the dice, once a plan is set into motion, nothing is in our control, we just have to stand there and wait for the outcome. Life is just like a game of cards, each one of us hoping for the luck of the draw and that's all we can do; hope that in the end what's meant to be, will be.

Olivia sighed heavily while slouching on her elbows over the desk, her eyes closed shut and her fingers massaging at her temples in rhythmic motions working to soothe the pulsing sensation . There was a migraine brewing at the forefront and making it nearly impossible to think straight.

She takes a deep breath and reaches for her phone, quickly dialing the number she now knows by heart with shaking fingers before she loses her nerve.

He answers on the second ring. "Olivia," He breathes and it still surprises her how hearing the sound of his voice has come to provide such comfort to her.

There's an immediate feeling of relief that travels from her head to her toes, almost as if he reached through the phone and alleviated some of the weight laying heavy on her chest.

"Hey," She stammers in a shaky voice and he immediately picks up on the fact that something isn't right.

"Olivia, what's wrong?"

"Nothing - nothing is wrong, I just wanted to hear your voice." It comes out as a whisper and even though she can't see his face, she knows that there is concern on the other end of the line. She wants to stand up and pace around the room but instead she runs a hand down her face and keeps put. "I miss you."

A chuckle fills her ears, "I miss you too, Liv." She wonders if there's wistfulness in his tone before shaking her head to rid her brain of the thought. She had spent years in another lifetime trying to interpret another mans feelings and that left her alone and abandoned.

"I was actually going to give you a call to tell you that I'm back in New York permanently now." He adds a moment later. If they were face to face he would be able to witness first hand the way her features immediately relax and watch her lashes flutter quickly in an attempt to swallow up the liquid threatening to escape.

But the truth is that he had met her at the wrong time. She used to be a lot better at expressing her feelings but life had made a cynic out of her heart and the walls she's spent years building up couldn't be torn down, not even by him. So she settles into comfortable territory.

"Oh, don't tell me your stint as a defense attorney is turning into you full-time job, Rafeal, you can't turn to the dark side." He doesn't miss a beat.

"Ah, Olivia we have been over this, everyone deserves a defense and did you just inadvertently compare me to Darth Vader?"

She can't help the way her lips twitch into a smile, "I think I might have and maybe need further convincing that you haven't completely lost your mind "

"Well, I can work on doing just that at dinner tonight if you're free?" The invitation hangs in the air and she must've waited too long to answer because he starts to backtrack, giving her a list of excuses that she can use to turn down his offer. She wonders why he sounds so resolute in his assumption that she would decline the invitation.

Olivia cuts him off mid-sentence, "Dinner would be wonderful."

The call ends and she's left alone again with her own thoughts and the unyielding glare of her computer screen radiating the same email from the fertility clinic that she must've read at least ten times in the last hour. Where did the time go? She wondered resolutely. It seems like yesterday she made the decision to freeze her eggs and now she is being asked if she wants to use them for herself or help a struggling couple make their dreams to start a family come true.

There was a time when Olivia use to measure time by date, hour and minutes and then Elliot left her without a single word and she crashed and burned. For so long afterwards, she counted the days by calculating his absence. Ironic how for twelve years she held him on a pedestal and then in his absence she built a shrine for the ghost he left behind.

And now Elliot's back and she feels the same gnawing pain from the wounds that never healed, the rage that never quite dissipated rising to the surface and threatening to boil over again. He knew what he meant to her, she didn't leave him any room to doubt and maybe thats why it was so easy for him to walk away. Elliot already had a wife, kids, a family to turn to…and what did she have?

"I was afraid that if I heard your voice, I wouldn't have been able to leave." Olivia scoffs at the memory and wills herself to keep from going down the all too familiar rabbit hole of analyzing and dissecting his words in search of any underlining meaning of substance.

Ten years had gone by and within ten minutes she was brought back to the past, all her memories resurfacing in little fragments like pieces of a broken puzzle and she doesn't know if she's more disgusted with the reminder that she once found comfort in an unfathomable romanticized fantasy or the revelation that deep down inside there was still the tiniest spark of hope that refused to burn out. She wants to slap herself back to reality because she still cannot rationalize her own feelings or actions and she can't blame him either because he never told her to put her life on hold for him, not then and not now but thats exactly what she did.

There were lies you tell to keep the truth hidden even from yourself; excuses she made to hide the reality that she wanted to make sure she was not bound to anything or anyone…. just in case…..

She's too ashamed to even finish her own thought.