Rafael eyed the passport on Olivia's living room table and the Samsonite tucked in a corner - bigger than he'd expected, but then again, she was packing for two, and still had a stroller to push. "How long are you going to be away?"

"Ten days, but I'm not supposed to be at work for two weeks." She'd told this to countless people at work over the last few days as she prepared to transfer command to Fin, but the realisation that she'd actually be gone and not thinking about any work for an entire fortnight still hadn't quite sunk in.

"Wow. Planning to spend all ten in Paris?" He noticed the Lonely Planet travel guide lying underneath her passport, its pages dog-eared and marked with tabs and Post-Its. Had she or Ed picked the spots they wanted to see? "I see you've done plenty of planning."

"Just making sure that wherever we go is kid-friendly enough for Noah," she explained. "Provided we make it to Paris in one piece, of course. We almost decided to pay a visit to Nice or Provence as well, but I don't think Noah would be happy with the extra travelling."

"I know this isn't the most kid-friendly thing, but you have to go to the Musee D'Orsay, Liv. Even better than the Louvre, in my opinion," he suggested, voice suddenly filled with excitement. "Fell in love with it on a summer trip in my sophomore year at Harvard. I always go back whenever I'm in Paris."

"If only you were coming with me. I could use an art history and Paris expert as my tour guide," Olivia casually remarked with a smile, although that smile immediately disappeared when she realised how that sounded. She was travelling to the City of Love with the person she actually was dating - not Rafael.

Rafael flinched at the idea of going to Paris with her, but quickly recovered and turned his attention to the reason he was at her apartment in the first place - the case files on her kitchen counter. "Are those the case files I'm here to collect?"

"Oh, yes." Olivia snapped back to reality and handed him the stack of folders. "Sorry for making you come all the way here to get them," she added apologetically. She cast a quick glance at the clock next to the TV - 11pm. Not long more and she'd have to be at the airport with a very sleepy and irritable toddler in tow, while running on little sleep herself - not the most appealing combination.

"It's fine, Liv." He tucked the folders back into his briefcase - Olivia noticed he was still in his work clothes; had he come straight from 1 Hogan Place? Even if she never admitted this to anyone, she knew she was going to miss the sight of him buttoning up one of his freshly-pressed suits. "Bon voyage, Liv. I hope you have a lovely trip."

"Merci beaucoup, Rafael," she replied with a twinkle in her eye. "Hope the squad room doesn't burn down in my absence."

"We'll be more than fine. You enjoy yourself with Ed and Noah. And… I'll see you when you get back?" he added hopefully.

"Of course," she smiled.

For a few awkward seconds they both hesitated, wondering what to do next, until he finally leaned in to give her a hug, second-guessing himself every single milli-second of the way. But the thought of not seeing her for two whole weeks, especially in light of recent events, pushed him over the edge. "See you soon, Liv."

She drank in his scent and revelled in the feeling of his arms around her, although she took care not to let that show on her face. She was going to miss seeing him around, for sure. "You too, Rafa."

With one last smile, he turned around and headed out the door of her apartment, footsteps echoing in the hallway.

Half an hour later, Olivia climbed into bed after setting an alarm for the ridiculously early hour of 4.30am. It was the official start of her long-awaited vacation after months of hell. Her first time out of New York City for something other than police work for as long as she could remember. And it was Noah's first-ever trip out of the country! For a baby born in such squalid, miserable circumstances, he certainly was living a charmed life now.

So why didn't she feel more excited about it?

Right. This trip was her "last shot" with Ed, and the excitement of being in a brand new city and continent didn't quite cancel out the latent anxiety she felt about her deteriorating relationship. Maybe their long-awaited break from the city would finally give them the clarity they needed to start anew… or it could end in catastrophe and heartbreak, without the unifying force of police work to keep their heads above the water.

But as she turned the lights down and tucked herself under her covers, she had a distinct feeling that she'd return to New York in ten days' time without Ed Tucker by her side. This trip felt far too late - too late for them to undo all the cracks that'd formed in their once rock-solid relationship. The dread crept into her belly and flooded her body with a restless anxiety.

Perhaps this truly was the end for them.

They'd been trying so, so hard, but nothing was clicking. Either they were embroiled in some cold war, or going through the motions. The realisation had been quietly devastating, and she'd come to realise that her dinner dates with Ed no longer felt like little breaks from the everyday horrors of her job. Instead, she'd come to feel nothing for, or even dread them, knowing how belaboured and hollow their "I love yous" and goodnight kisses felt.

Did she even love Ed anymore?

Olivia pulled the covers over herself and forced her eyes shut - she'd need sleep before flying across the Atlantic with a toddler in tow. If this really was her and Ed's last hurrah, she was going to make it count. After all the hell she'd put them through, it was the least she could do.

"So… what do you want to do today?" Ed asked in a hushed whisper.

Olivia's hand brushed lightly against her boyfriend's bare chest and she instinctively moved closer to him, feeling their legs intertwine naturally. She could just barely make out the golden rays of sun through the shut curtains, and kept her voice quiet, wary of waking Noah from his peaceful slumber. "How about the Musee D'Orsay?" she suggested, carefully watching Ed's face for his reaction.

Like she expected, Ed knitted his eyebrows and responded hesitantly. "Another art museum? Weren't we just at the Louvre? I thought we could do some shopping or walk down the Champs-Elysees before our Eiffel Tower ticket reservation tonight."

Yup, just as I expected. Ed Tucker in a museum? She'd been surprised enough that he'd even agreed to go to the Louvre - he hadn't even realised that it housed the Mona Lisa until she pulled up a website with evidence. "You know me - I've never been the kind to enjoy shopping." Not that she had anything against walking down the Champs-Elysees or looking for attire that wasn't either black or work-approved, but all she could think about after their Louvre trip was Rafael's impassioned suggestion to visit the Musee D'Orsay, and she knew perfectly well that it'd bother her until she found her way there, with or without Ed.

"How do you want to do this, then?" he pressed.

Olivia pondered over the question for a few seconds, but recalled Amanda's suggestion from their day at the park.

And it's not like you have to be joined at the hip when you get there, anyway. Take an afternoon off, bring Noah to see something nice. You're allowed to enjoy yourself.

Suddenly, Olivia realised that it was the most appealing option to prevent another cold war between them - one that wouldn't result in him sulking his way through another 50 galleries of artwork. "How about we split up? I can take Noah to the museum and we can meet for afternoon tea."

"You sure you'll be okay on your own?" Ed asked skeptically. "I mean, I could follow you to the museum, but I'm not that interested in another morning of looking at paintings," he admitted. Olivia knew from the expression on his face that he was holding back - annoyed that they were splitting up, perhaps? But she pretended she hadn't seen it, and reached out to touch his shoulder reassuringly. Anything to get him from throwing a tantrum at this time in the morning.

"I'll be fine with Noah, Ed." She tried her best to hide her mild annoyance with Ed's condescending tone - of course she would be okay being with Noah on her own, even in a foreign country. And she spoke more than enough French to get by, for God's sake (while he spoke none). However, she wasn't about to get into an argument with him at 7.30am. "You enjoy yourself today; I'll see you at the base of the Eiffel Tower later."

"Alright, Liv," he reluctantly agreed, and climbed out of bed to get ready for the day.

Olivia rolled over, feeling the mattress sink where Ed's body had laid just a few seconds ago, and felt a twinge of guilt for heaving a sigh of relief. Paris was unimaginably beautiful and she hadn't felt this refreshed in what seemed like forever, but somehow, it felt even better and more beautiful without Ed by her side. They'd split up in the Louvre after pushing their way to the front of the crowd standing around the Mona Lisa - Olivia to the Greek antiquities and Egyptian art with Noah, and Ed for the Louvre cafe, where he'd sat quietly with a croque monsieur and coffee until she was done, Olivia feeling like she was being rushed the entire time even though Ed hadn't complained much.

She'd asked to visit the Musee D'Orsay knowing that Ed wouldn't want to spend another morning staring at paintings, and knew exactly what that meant.

Maybe, just maybe, she wanted to get away from Ed.

Two hours later, Olivia and Noah emerged into the cavernous foyer of the Musee D'Orsay and drank in its expanse. Even the typically restless toddler sat quietly in his stoller and stared at the paintings with wide-eyed wonder, which Olivia relished with glee - perhaps she had a mini art critic in the making. For an idyllic summer's day, the museum was surprisingly peaceful, and she strolled through its rooms and corridors slowly, until she came to a pause before one very familiar-looking painting.

Georges Seurat, Étude pour "Un dimanche après-midi à l'île de la Grande Jatte"

A Study for 'A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte'. Olivia knew exactly where she'd seen that painting before - Rafael had a print of it hanging on his living room wall, right by his media closet. Now she wondered how he'd curated his living room art - why he'd chosen the pieces he had, what each painting or sculpture meant to him. She allowed herself to wonder what this visit would be like if he were standing right next to her, talking her through this gallery; would she see the same fire that she saw in his eyes whenever he talked about anything artistic or cultural? Even the way he'd talked about Dirty Dancing just a few weeks ago had sent a shiver up her spine. She remembered the excitement and passion with which he'd emphatically recommended this very museum to her a few days ago, and felt that same shiver ripple through her once more. All her life she'd been surrounded by cops and ADAs whose lives revolved around their jobs, and she certainly didn't question Rafael's commitment to justice, but knowing that he had interests outside the criminal realm excited her more than she wanted to admit. They'd been friends for years, but only recently had she really felt like she really was peeling back the layers to his personality: he had an appreciation for the finer things in life that Ed Tucker simply didn't have. Standing halfway across the world, in the middle of one of Paris' - and probably the world's - most celebrated cultural institutions, she somehow felt closer to him than she ever had before.

She turned her eyes back to the painting in a quiet awe, recalling the careful way he had the prints framed in his living room, and gently squeezed Noah's hand. What's the story behind this one? she wondered. A happy memory of his first trip to Paris as a college student, perhaps? Perhaps he was a Seurat fan? She made a mental note to ask him when she got back.

"It's beautiful, isn't it, Noah?" she whispered to her son, who giggled softly in response. She was sure that Rafael would be delighted to see Noah so interested in art at his young age - perhaps an art history lesson was in order when the boy got older.

Warm late-morning sun was starting to peek through the ornate glass windows, bathing her and Noah in radiant, golden light. A nagging curiosity about a certain ADA took root in the recesses of her mind and stayed with her all morning and through lunch, and almost made her forget who she'd actually come to Paris with.

Sure, she was having a good time with Ed, but she wondered how much of a better time she'd be having if she were here with Rafael instead.

Later that afternoon, right before she called an Uber to take her and Noah to the Eiffel Tower to meet Ed, Olivia approached a young woman outside the museum and asked her in her rudimentary French to take a picture of her and Noah, to which the woman cheerfully agreed.

"Tres belle!" she exclaimed with an ear-to-ear grin, as she handed the phone back to Olivia. Olivia thanked the young woman and closely inspected the photo, realising that it'd been ages since she looked this relaxed or joyful on camera. Being clad in a dress instead of her usual dark colour palette certainly helped, but she simply looked exceptionally happy, and she knew that she'd be looking at this photo in a year's time and thinking about what a lovely experience she had at the museum.

(Without Ed.)

Olivia sent the picture to the SVU chat for Amanda, Sonny and Fin's envious consumption, but her finger hovered over her chat with Rafael, which now had been lying dormant for a few days, their last correspondence a quick message to let him know that she'd arrived in Paris safely. Did she want to send him the photo too? Tell him that she'd successfully made it to his favourite museum in his favourite city?

The Uber pulled up before she could make a decision, and she lingered on that thought as they neared the base of the Eiffel Tower. In the distance, she could just spot Ed sitting on a bench, drinking his coffee like he'd been waiting there all afternoon, and her buoyant mood immediately evaporated. She hated herself for thinking this way - what kind of horrible person dreaded seeing their own boyfriend on what was meant to be a romantic vacation to Paris?

And she had a feeling that it wasn't just fatigue from over five days of non-stop sightseeing.

Olivia instinctively closed her chat with Rafael and tucked her phone back into her pocket, photo still unsent. Something was telling her to wait until she got back to New York to tell him about it in person.

As Rafael strolled through the doors of the 16th Precinct, his eyes instinctively darted towards Olivia's darkened office, blinds drawn and door clearly locked, and he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment.

Get it together, Barba.

Olivia had been gone for almost a week by this point, and the two of them hadn't communicated at all, save for a quick text to let him know that she'd arrived in Paris safely. That had been their unspoken agreement, and he certainly wasn't expecting anything more. But that didn't stop him from idly hovering his thumb over their iMessage conversation every once in a while, while silently lamenting that their last exchange was so long ago. Fin was officially in charge and he had no reason to text her about work, and for him to ask how her trip was going just seemed inappropriate given that she and Ed were trying to fix their relationship - a problem Rafael knew he had a hand in creating. Anyway, crime didn't take a break for the summer, and he was still going to have to show up at SVU to do his job even in Olivia's absence.

He wondered what she was doing there. Enjoying a croissant as she walked down the Seine? Taking pictures from the top of the Arc de Triomphe? (Provided that old man Ed Tucker was willing to brave the queues and endless flights of stairs, he couldn't help but snicker to himself.) Had she taken his advice to visit the Musee D'Orsay? Rafael glanced at his watch - it'd be evening in Paris by this time, and the thought of them enjoying a candlelit dinner somewhere made his stomach lurch. It'd been a while since his last trip to the City of Love, but it also happened to be one of his favourite cities in the world, which only made her absence sting even more.

Eager for a distraction (namely, work), Rafael scanned the empty squad room and followed the sound of laughter and conversation to the break room, where Amanda and Sonny were hunched over her cell phone and squealing at whatever they were looking at. "Barba, hey," she said cheerfully when he saw him approach them. "Fin's not back from lunch yet, so we thought we'd wait for him to get here before we start."

"Ah, I figured. What are you two laughing about?" Rafael pulled a chair from the adjacent table and slid next to them, to which Amanda and Sonny responded with some surprise. Typically the ADA would be sitting in Olivia's office and laughing away with her whenever he came by the precinct, but with the lieutenant on vacation, they figured that he was missing his little - and very private - chats with her that no one else wanted to get between.

"Liv sent us some photos from Paris and they're just adorable," Amanda explained, as she handed the ADA her cell phone. She wasn't sure if Olivia had already sent them to him separately, but the look of amusement - and surprise - on his face made it clear that he hadn't already seen the photos. Why Olivia hadn't sent them to Barba too, given their closeness, puzzled Amanda.

Rafael peered at the screen as Amanda scrolled through the numerous photos Olivia had sent the chat. The first one was of her standing by the entrance of the Louvre, coffee cup in hand, but he didn't care much for the scenery. Instead, he instantly noticed what she was wearing - a floral sundress. He'd never seen her dressed this casually before, and god, was she beautiful. Of course they'd bared their souls to each other during their conversations, especially in the last few weeks, but a casual Olivia remained an unfamiliar sight to him, and the glimpse he was getting wasn't doing anything to still his racing heart.

The next - a picture of her and Ed beaming by the base of the Arc de Triomphe, Noah perched on his shoulders. If Rafael hadn't been privy to the problems between Olivia and Ed, he'd have assumed they were a happy family - a reality that Rafael had never, and probably would never, be a part of. Bitter jealousy formed at the back of his throat, heavy and acidic, and he resisted the urge to curse audibly or let his disapproval show on his face.

And the final - a photo of Olivia, this time in a different but equally stunning sun dress, Noah smiling in the stroller next to her, standing by the entrance of a very familiar-looking building; one that never failed to bring him endless hours of joy. The Musee D'Orsay.

Ah, fuck.

Rafael would have stared at the photos for even longer, but he quickly handed Amanda's phone back to her before the junior detectives got suspicious and focussed on something - anything - that would distract him. The blinking lights on the break room vending machine. The feeling of his cell phone - one without any updates from Olivia - in his palm. The desks in the bustling squad room… which sat between him and Olivia's unlit office.

"Must be nice to visit Paris in the summer. I'm making it my mission to finally leave this country for the first time when Billie's older," Amanda remarked enviously.

"You have to visit Italy. I went a few times as a kid to visit family and it's the most beautiful place. And the food… I'm in heaven just thinking about it," Sonny replied with a wistful smile. "What about you, Barba? Any plans for the summer?"

"Oh, nothing much. Maybe I'll head to Miami with my mom for a few days, but other than that, it's all work and no play," Rafael sighed. Hearing himself say that only made him want to wallow in his personal pity party for longer - he was stuck in New York for the summer with no plans, nothing to look forward to… and no Olivia, although he pretended he hadn't thought about the last thing.

Those photos… those fucking photos.

They were perfectly innocuous holiday photos, but how the hell was he so agitated by the mere sight of her on someone else's phone screen?

Rafael's pensive mood lingered all through Fin's arrival at the precinct and their meeting about their latest case. More than once had Amanda and Sonny glanced at him worriedly as he stared into his coffee - where were his usual quips, his usual snark? No one dared to ask, although they predicted (correctly) that it had something to do with the absence of their lieutenant.

One forgettable meeting later, Rafael decided to forgo his usual Uber in favour of a slow walk back to his office. A muggy, languid summer heat had settled over New York and was making him sweat through his suit, which only reminded him that he wasn't currently on vacation in Europe.

Those stupid, stupid photos - he'd been reduced to a lovesick teenager in a single afternoon. It was taking all his willpower not to whip his phone out and text Olivia immediately. He wasn't expecting any updates from her, of course, but it still stung.

Rafael hardly envied Ed Tucker. He was coarse, unrefined, uncultured, had the personality of a stale saltine cracker... but he did have one thing going for him, and that was Olivia Benson. Deep down Rafael knew that he'd never be able to hoist Noah on his shoulders; never be able to complete Olivia's happy family in the same way that Ed did, or looked like he did. He'd never show her around the Musee D'Orsay or hold her hand as they walked the cobblestone streets of Paris.

Damn Ed Tucker.

The photos continued to flash through Rafael's mind as he collapsed into his chair at 1 Hogan Place, hand clutching his gold pen but unable to get a single word out. Now he felt stupid for thinking that he'd get more work done in Olivia's absence. His sporadically sour mood had escalated to a full-blown tantrum, and all this from just a few holiday photos.

Holiday photos that she hadn't sent him.

Rafael stared at his empty legal pad and case files in a daze, cursing that he wasn't currently enjoying an escargot dinner or croissant while strolling down the Seine. Cursing that he wasn't Ed Tucker - a comparison he'd usually despise making, especially after his juicy conversation with Rita about Ed's massive faux pas.

Fuck. Now he couldn't get that conversation out of his head either. Rita's words kept ringing in his ears.

Possessive. Overbearing.

Rafael, Ed Tucker cheated on me.

Suddenly he wanted to pick up his phone and finally tell Olivia what he knew; to stop suppressing this twisted protective instinct he'd been holding back for over two weeks now. Even the unbreakable Rita Calhoun had had her heart broken by Ed Tucker, and god forbid he let Ed do the same to Olivia. Quiet rage coursed through his veins - how was Olivia still with someone like that? Was he still as possessive as he was with Rita? Rafael had a feeling that little had changed. Was she going to come back from Paris with a love rekindled? Where on earth did Rafael fit in the picture?

Of course Rafael wanted her to be happy, but he wished that Ed Tucker wasn't the person to make her feel that way.

Because he wanted to be that person for her. He wanted to be the one standing next to her in their vacation photos; the one hoisting Noah on his shoulders. The one who took her out to dinner and curled up on the sofa with her as they watched a movie, except without having to hide all of it from the prying eyes of their colleagues. He knew perfectly well that it was the reason they never spent time at Olivia's apartment - it would be too easy for Ed or one of the other detectives to find him there. Instead, they hid out in Rafael's condominium, and she'd leave without a trace at the end of every night.

Friends. That's what they claimed to be. But they were involved in every single way… except in name.

If they truly were just friends, neither would feel the need to hide in Rafael's apartment or enjoy dinner far, far away from either of their offices. He gave her all his emotional energy; all his affection, for something that simply didn't look like it could ever happen.

Rafael sprawled out on his leather couch and took a giant swig of coffee to clear his head. Of course he wanted something more between him and Olivia. And he could've sworn that Olivia felt the exact same way about him. But now she was halfway across the world on a romantic trip with her boyfriend- her actual boyfriend - while he was stuck in New York getting upset over her holiday photos, because he was hopelessly in love with a woman he simply couldn't have.

The coffee wasn't doing it for him. He resisted the urge to fling the cup on the ground as red-hot anger - whether at himself, or Olivia, he didn't know - bubbled in his chest. But it'd be almost midnight in Paris by this time, and he couldn't just call her. He couldn't do something so rash, even in the thick of his desperation.

Instead, he grabbed his jacket and phone, and stormed out of 1 Hogan Place towards the office of a person he knew would talk some sense into him before he did anything stupid.

The setting sun gently illuminated the Madison Avenue office of Calhoun & Berkeley as throngs of associates, paralegals and trainees filed through the lobby and out onto the street. Rita Calhoun was still bent over her MacBook Pro, next to which laid a half-finished salad bowl from Cava. Her last client for the day had just left, and she was very much looking forward to curling up on her couch with a glass of red wine and HBO… until the voice of her secretary piped through the phone speaker on her desk and she resisted a groan.

"Miss Calhoun? There's a Mr Barba who just got here and wants to know if you're available to see him."

"Rafael Barba?" she asked incredulously. Rafael almost never met her at her office - if they talked about a case, they'd do so at the DA's office or precinct; if they wanted to catch-up, they'd do so over food at a stylish restaurant or a good drink. What on earth had inspired him to make the trip uptown, especially at this hour?

"Yes, Mr Rafael Barba. He says he'll wait for as long as you need. Should I send him in now?"

Rita sat up in her seat when her suspicion was confirmed and quickly scanned her calendar and notes again. No, she didn't have any cases involving SVU. This couldn't be about a plea deal or interview. She knitted her eyebrows quizzically - this had to be a personal call. "Send him in."

She looked up from her laptop screen to see a completely downtrodden Rafael Barba emerge through the doors, his typically immaculate hair and suit unkempt and drenched with sweat, like he'd just walked uptown to see her. Shit, this definitely isn't about work. "Raf? What are you doing here?"

"I've fucked up, Rita," he muttered, voice shaking and unsteady. "I've fucked up so bad."

What the hell? Rafael looked like he'd just seen a ghost. She immediately sprang out of her seat and into action. "Sit down, take a deep breath and I'll pour you a drink. What on earth happened?"

"Will you promise not to lose it when I tell you?" He nervously looked at his lap and fiddled with the buttons of his suit jacket.

"Jesus, Raf, you're scaring me." She hadn't seen Rafael look this disoriented, this defeated, since maybe his last major trial loss (William Lewis, maybe? It wasn't hard to guess why) or heck, the time in law school he'd learned that Yelina had cheated on him with Alex Munoz (whom Rita was absolutely delighted was now in jail - she'd never trusted that slimy bastard).

Shit, what on earth had Rafael Barba done?

Rafael watched silently as she poured him a glass of scotch, his face flushed from a combination of his hurried run-walk up Madison Avenue and the emotions stewing in his mind. Stay calm and talk to Rita, he ordered himself, but that didn't stop him from blurting out the only thing that he could convey coherently.

"Olivia cheated on Ed Tucker."

Rita couldn't believe what she was hearing. Olivia Benson, a pillar of NYPD integrity and honour, cheating on Ed Tucker? She pictured the blue eyes of her former flame flooding with rage and hurt - the same rage and hurt she'd felt over five years ago - and couldn't help the triumphant smirk that appeared on her face.

"Well, good for her!"

Rafael was shocked when Rita's dry, hollow cackle filled the room. "Rita!"

"What? Tucker's a bastard, Rafael," she quipped without a moment of hesitation, wicked grin still plastered on her face, until she came to her senses and noticed his horrified expression. "Wait. What does this have to do with…" her voice trailed off.

Rafael stared at her wordlessly, guilt and anxiety written all over his face.

Don't make me say it, Rita. Don't make me say it.

He didn't have to, because Rita's reaction said it all. "Holy shit, Rafael." She abandoned the mouthful of salad she'd just heaped onto her spoon and moved next to him on her couch.

He bit his lip and nodded remorsefully, eyes suddenly flooding with tears. Rita's head spun with confusion - first with the petty joy of learning that Ed Tucker had a taste of his own bitter medicine, but then with the sobering realisation that Rafael Barba - her friend - had gotten between Ed and Olivia. Why? How? What had even happened? Did Ed know about this?

But she had to stay calm - if not for herself, for him. "Okay, Raf." She inhaled deeply and handed him a glass of scotch, which he held tentatively in his palm. "Take a sip and tell me what happened."

"I never meant for things to end up this way, Rita," he choked out. "I slept with Liv - Olivia - right after Tucker was cleared. The sex trafficking investigation. We weren't drunk… she came over to my place after she and Ed fought at Forlini's, and we argued, and she kissed me, and one thing led to another…"

There. He'd finally, finally told someone that he'd slept with Olivia Benson - the event that had changed everything for them. A huge weight off his shoulders. Rafael stared at Rita, almost waiting for her to judge him silently, but she kept her facial expression calm and collected. He had absolutely no reason to doubt her. And so he continued.

"Olivia and I talked about it and we thought everything was going to be okay - we got through pretty much the rest of the spring working together just fine and acting like it'd never happened. But then I started getting those threats from BX9, and Mike Dodds died…"

Rita desperately tried to recall if she'd been anywhere near the SVU squad room or any of their cases around that time. She hadn't, but both Olivia and Rafael were masters at keeping their emotions at bay, and she wasn't surprised that they'd chosen to act like nothing had happened between them, as much as it looked like a ticking time bomb that now was on the verge of imploding in their faces… or had already imploded. "What happened then?" she prompted him.

"She came to visit me in the secure hotel I was staying in, and we realised that we were scared of losing each other and made out… and ever since then it's been one fucking enormous mess. We've gone out to dinner. We've watched movies on my couch; worked late nights at my place. We're doing everything a couple does, except that we're not dating and she's in bloody Paris with that bastard," he rambled, his face growing increasingly flushed with frustration and guilt. "I think I'm in love with her, Rita. I don't know how I'm going to put up with this. What if she comes back from Paris and everything with Ed is fine and dandy and…"

The defense attorney tried to process the avalanche of information she'd just been told. Where was she even going to begin? This wasn't just Harvard-level mischief that a pizza or drink would fix. Before she could get a word in, however, he buried his face in his hands and let out an enormous groan. "Does Ed know what happened?" she asked gently.

"He definitely knows that we slept together the first time. But I don't think he knows about what happened when I was in the hotel… or that Olivia and I had dinner and have been spending time together. Ed got really possessive with her after he learned that we slept together - I can't get what you told me out of my head, Rita. What Ed did to you. She doesn't know that Ed was unfaithful to you. What if he's doing the same to Olivia?" His voice trailed off slowly when he realised that he'd been talking at a visibly overwhelmed Rita non-stop.

She reached for the bottle of scotch on her desk and poured herself a glass of her own - she was going to need it to make sense of this increasingly messy Rafael-Olivia-Ed love triangle. "Slow down, Raf. We're going to talk through this - one problem at a time."

Rafael took a deep breath and stared into space. "What on earth do I do now? Liv's away for another week."

"First things first - what on earth happened today that got you so flustered that you had to come here? Surely something must have set you off," she observed astutely.

With that, everything that Rafael had been feeling (and suppressing) for the last month came tumbling out. The holiday photos that had sent him over the edge. How Olivia's ongoing tension with Ed had given him just enough hope to make him feel like an absolute idiot. The looks he shared with her that made him swear that there was something more between them. He couldn't decide if he was feeling relief from finally sharing his feelings with someone he could trust, or if speaking of these emotions out loud was only making him more flustered than before. Rita nodded along quietly, her mind swirling with possibilities. Even her initial petty delight over Ed getting a taste of his own medicine quickly faded away when she realised just how distressed Rafael sounded.

"I feel so fucking stupid. Like I'm waiting for something I know will never happen. Even if Liv breaks up with Ed, there's so much history between us that it feels like this will never work. I should've backed away…" he lamented. "Am I an idiot, Rita?"

"Making stupid decisions doesn't make you an idiot, Raf. All this has already happened and you can't change that. But you haven't told me what exactly it is you want from this."

Rafael frowned quizzically at his friend. "Look, I don't know what exactly things are like between you and Olivia, and I can't tell you what to do. But this obviously has been eating you alive and I hate seeing you this way," she confessed worriedly. "I think you're going to have to sit her down after she gets back from Paris and tell her everything you just told me. How you're feeling stuck, how you're feeling about everything that has happened between you two. We don't know if she's going to break up with Ed or stay with him, but it doesn't matter. This is about you now."

"I can't tell her all this!" he exclaimed in a panic. "Isn't it just going to make things even messier? I don't want to lose her, Rita."

"So you won't tell her anything, bottle this up for even longer, and then let it explode sometime in the future and destroy your relationship irreparably?" she fired back, which made Rafael grimace. "Raf, things have escalated WAY past the point of worrying you'll lose her. Don't tell me that you want to live in this limbo forever just because you're scared to confront the truth. This isn't good for you or Olivia, and you can't let her emotions dictate your existence. What do you want from this?"

I don't know, he wanted to snap. I don't fucking know. Of course he wanted Olivia Benson. But that wasn't entirely up to him, and he knew that Rita was right. He couldn't let her emotions - or her - dictate his existence. If only that weren't so damn difficult to do when he melted at the very sight of the brunette detective. "What if I don't know what I want?"

Rita put down her glass of scotch and rested her hands on his shoulders affectionately. "I'm sure that will reveal itself to you eventually, but you and Olivia aren't going to go anywhere if you don't have an honest conversation with her about how you're feeling. But please don't shortchange yourself, Raf. Seeing you like this - it really does make me worry."

"It's my fault," he cursed. "We're in this mess because of me."

"No, don't say that," she remarked sternly. "This is just as much on Olivia as it is on you. Heck, it's more on Olivia than it is on you. She's the one who chose to cheat on Ed, Raf. She's leading you on. Giving you hope. And it's not fair that you're being strung along like this."

She's leading you on.

You're being strung along.

Harsh words from Rita Calhoun weren't unfamiliar to Rafael, but these especially stung.

Because he knew that they were true.

"Rafael, listen to me. I know how much you care about Olivia, but this isn't good for you." Everything she'd seen finally made sense - his listlessness, his irritability, him asking her for the scoop on Ed Tucker - and she didn't like it. "This isn't even about whether you and Olivia are dating or fucking or whatever else you two are doing. You need to talk to her about it. Be honest, set some boundaries… I don't know. But you're going to be stuck here indefinitely if you don't do something to rock the boat now."

Rafael flinched at Rita's choice of words. Dating? Fucking? What even were they? "I don't know what I'm going to say to her, Rita," he muttered quietly.

"Tell her everything you just told me, Raf. Cards on the table. You're only going to destroy your relationship even more if you don't at least talk to her about it. Stand up for yourself. Tell her what you want. You can't sit around all day and let her call all the shots."

You can't sit around all day and let her call all the shots.

Rita was right. He was going to have to decide what he wanted from this before they descended even further into this limbo hell. God damn, he loved Olivia Benson… but he knew he'd blow any chance he had at being with her if he didn't come clean with her about everything he'd been feeling.

"Do you think I'm completely fucked?" he blurted out, eager for something - anything - to tell him that he still could fix this.

Rita carefully contemplated her response. "It's messy, Raf. I really don't know." Rafael had been destroyed enough the summer he found out that Alex and Yelina had gotten together in his absence, and she couldn't stop her mind from wandering back to the days he'd crash in her Upper East Side apartment to get away from the Bronx, where Alex and Yelina lived only a couple of blocks away. Now Rafael was on the other side of the picture, but he was descending into that same, sombre self he was twenty years ago, and it made her heart ache. "But you're made of strong stuff. And I hope things get better once you talk to Olivia about this."

"Thanks, Rita. I needed to hear that." He thanked his lucky stars for his friend's firm - but wise - advice and that she hadn't judged him.

"Anytime, Raf." She took another sip of her scotch. "And look - I'm not saying that what you did is necessarily right or wrong… but that bastard Ed Tucker deserved it," she smirked.

"Rita!" he chided her, although something about her wicked, triumphant grin made it hard for him to resist breaking out into a smile himself. "You're right. Ed Tucker is a bastard."

Hopefully, Olivia would realise that soon.

Ed knelt down to lock his suitcase while Olivia picked up the last of Noah's toys and stuffed them into her overflowing carry-on bag. "Got everything, Ed?"

"Yup. The Uber's arriving in fifteen minutes. We should head down," he replied, tone flat and emotionless.

"Alright, I think I'm done here. Let's go," She juggled her luggage in one arm and Noah and his stroller in the other. Was Ed going to help her? Or would he keep his distance, like he'd done all night, even putting a pillow between them while they slept? She wouldn't blame him if he wanted to keep his distance - after all, she'd chosen to spring the bad news on him on the last night of their trip, when they were meant to be enjoying a candlelit dinner. But she'd been putting it off for multiple days now, and she was going to have to rip the Band-Aid eventually.

To his credit, Ed grabbed her bags and helped her wheel them down the hallway, Olivia following closely behind him, as last evening's events played in her head.

Ed, I know we've tried so hard to make things work, but I think we're stuck.

He'd nodded sadly, as though he'd been expecting to hear it from her, but that didn't stop his eyes from glistening as she took his hand for quite possibly the last time.

We've been trying so hard and nothing's working anymore. We haven't been ourselves. I think… this is the end for us.

Olivia knew that she had to do it. She didn't want to feel like she was lying through her teeth every single time she kissed Ed or told him that she loved him. He'd gone to great lengths to save this relationship and she couldn't let her guilt tie her to him any longer.

You've done so much for me, and I'll always be grateful for that, but I'm not the person you truly deserve.

She'd messed up so, so bad, and she couldn't drag Ed through it any longer. It wasn't fair to him. She knew that she had to let Ed Tucker go, once and for all.

The sadness in her belly continued to burn even as they loaded their bags into the Uber and sat in a stony silence on their drive to the airport. Ed's silently devastated facial expression lingered in her memory all through check-in and security checks. Throughout the flight she snuck furtive glances at her sleeping now-ex boyfriend, body at ease but sadness and worry written all over his face. It'd been less than 24 hours; of course their emotions were still raw. She didn't blame him one bit for his coldness.

I'm sorry for what happened between us, Ed. I hope you can forgive me.

She couldn't read the expression on his face as she told him that - hurt, anger, sadness? - but she knew that he was fully aware of exactly what she was talking about. They'd walked back to the hotel in a resigned silence, grateful that Noah was sound asleep, savouring their last few hours as a couple before they returned to New York and went their separate ways. They'd exchanged nary a word as they got ready for bed, her letting him hold her for one last evening before he wedged a pillow between the two of them as they slept, signalling that their relationship was well and truly over.

We had a good run, Olivia. I'm sorry that things had to end this way.

I'm sorry too, Ed.

A few hours later, Olivia loaded the last of her luggage into the trunk of the waiting cab at the JFK door and looked back at Ed, whose sad, regretful expression struck her to her core. She knew she'd never forget the hurt in his blue eyes - her punishment for letting him down.

"I'm sorry, Ed," she said once more, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you for everything."

"I'm sorry too, Liv," he replied. "Take care of yourself." He leaned in and kissed her on the forehead one last time, Olivia trying to soak everything in before they parted ways for good.

"You too, Ed." With one last gentle caress of his cheek and shoulder, she climbed into the cab and sped off to a new existence without Ed Tucker by her side.

A freshly-showered Olivia collapsed into her bed, the familiar-smelling sheets and memory foam pillows much-welcomed after ten days of scratchy hotel linen. Despite the time difference, Noah had been so worn out by the flight and ride home from JFK that he'd fallen asleep right after she bathed him, which her tired body thanked her for. She still had three full days of leave before she had to head back to work, and right now, she couldn't be happier to have some time off.

It's over with Ed.

God, things were over with him - for real. Hot tears burned in her eyes and she quickly dabbed at them with her palm. Too much had happened in the last few weeks alone - grief, betrayal, ambiguity, tension - but one thing she knew for sure: this had all been set in motion because of her. She had betrayed Ed. She'd chosen to drag this out in a futile attempt to make things right again. She had ruined a relationship she honestly thought would last for much longer than this.

But this failure wasn't for a lack of trying. Both Olivia and Ed had done what they could to see this through to the end, as much as the process had pained them.

We gave it our best, and things didn't work out. We gave it our best.

That thought steadied her; made her feel like everything was going to be okay.

And perhaps, she was even relieved that it was over. No more feeling guilty about her betrayal every single time that Ed had kissed her. No more wondering how she'd make it up to Ed for choosing to forgive her for her transgression.

And no more feeling guilty for spending time with Rafael Barba - the man she suddenly realised she desperately wanted to see again.

Hey, I'm back from Paris. How have you been?

Glad to hear you made it home safe. You honestly didn't miss much here.

I'm going to be getting over my jet lag tomorrow, but are you free to meet the day after?

Sure. I was going to ask the same, actually.

Great. I'll let you know where and when.

See you then, Liv.

See you then, Rafa.