Olivia,
I don't deserve the chance to apologize, but you deserve an apology. I don't deserve any opportunity to explain myself, but you deserve an explanation. And I don't deserve for you to read this, but you deserve the option to. And if you are reading this, thank you.
I've written this letter a thousand times over the past ten years but it's always wound up crumpled in a ball on the floor in the corner of my living room. Eventually, about 4 years after I left, I finally found the balls to mail one to you. But it was returned 5 weeks later with "incorrect address" stamped on it. I then realized that you'd probably moved since we last spoke. I figured that was the universe's way of telling me that you'd moved on and that you didn't need to hear from me.
Now here I am, on a plane to New York City, writing this final letter. By this time tomorrow, I'll have seen you again. To say I'm scared as hell would be an understatement. But I know I deserve whatever reaction I get.
I don't know what I'm going to say to you. I don't know that I'll be able to get all of this out. So I'm writing it down.
I am so sorry, Liv. The way I left was so weak and incredibly selfish. I killed a child. I couldn't handle the job anymore. I had to leave. And I knew that if I told you, you'd talk me out of it. Hell, if I'd simply heard your voice, I'd have talked myself out of it. I should have done things differently.
I need you to know that you meant so much to me. You mean so much to me. I'm sure my leaving and ignoring you made it seem like you didn't matter to me, but you do. You always have and you always will. Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about you. Everything I see brings me back to a different memory that we made together, even more so now that I've returned to law enforcement. Getting to know you was one of my greatest privileges. Wrecking that is one of my greatest regrets.
You're probably wondering where I've been. After I left, I spent some time traipsing around Europe and a few years later, that led me to doing private security. I worked on a terrorism task force for a while and then four years ago, the NYPD was searching for an international liaison in Rome so I took the job. I'm coming back now for a few weeks to testify in a trial, do some training and attend a few conferences. More importantly, though, I'm coming back to see you. And I should've come back sooner.
When I called Fin and told him I was coming back, he mentioned that you'd be receiving an award for Women in Law Enforcement. I am so proud of you. You're still the best cop I've ever known and I hope it's okay that I came to celebrate you. Congratulations.
Olivia, I am so sorry for all of the pain I caused you by leaving. I am so sorry for not telling you, for not returning your phone calls and for not having the courage to reach out to you before now.
I don't expect your forgiveness. I don't expect you to invite me back into your life. But I will still make this promise to you: if you ever do find it in your heart to forgive me, I will never leave again. I live in Rome now, but phones can bridge that gap. You deserve a better friend than I ever was and if you someday choose to let me, I will do everything I can to make up for my actions and the time we lost.
Semper Fi,
Elliot