Title: Happily Ever After

Summary: Happily ever after doesn't happen in real life, I was a fool to think it could.

Disclaimer: They're not mine, ok guys?

Authors note: Ok, so this is from Kathy's POV, I know a few of you are probably groaning right now, but please read it. I wouldn't be posting it if I thought it was total crap, so it's got to be at least a little good.

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When I first met him I couldn't stand him, the way he tells it he wasn't fond of me either. I saw him as this cocky, egotistical jerk, much like all the other guys I had ever known. And he saw me as a ditz, just another preppy blonde. Maybe at first I was the epitome of the ditzy cheerleader, and he was a self-confident jock, but then we got to know each other. We had a mutual friend, he introduced us, and although I already thought he was a jerk I had to admit, he was very attractive. It didn't take long for me to fall in love.

Then, I was pregnant. The look on his face when I told him, it was priceless. I knew he was scared, we were still so young, but his eyes just lit up, I knew he would be such a great father. And he was a wonderful father and an even more wonderful husband. I hadn't thought it was possible, but after Maureen was born I fell more in love with him, and I continued to fall.

Even when he went and joined the marines. I hated him at first, here I was a young mother and he was leaving to do what? Feel proud? I didn't understand it. Maureen was his daughter too; leaving when she was so young was just stupid. And then I was pregnant again, that just made things worse.

Then, when he came back, he had to go and doing something stupid again. As if being a marine wasn't dangerous enough, he had to go and be a police officer. I was nothing but nerves those first few years, which was only made worse by two young children at home. Then, as if on cue I got pregnant again. Of course I would have twins. It was hard enough having to deal with two young children, but then I also had to take care of two newborns, all the while my husband was out doing what? Protecting the city. He was supposed to be at home, protecting us. His damn pride.

But, I got through it. It was a miracle from God, but we managed. Now, most mothers are distraught on their children's first day of school, but I was relieved. By then, Maureen was a teenager, and Kathleen had just hit double digits. They were both old enough to take care of their brother and sister, so I got a break. Instead of working part-time I could now work full-time, we didn't depend on Elliot's job anymore, not as much.

By then he was a detective. When he first told me about being on the SVU squad I felt sick, how could he deal with all those things everyday? Homicide I could deal with, nothing to get attached to, the victims weren't alive, they weren't women and teens just like me and my daughters, nor were they defenseless children like Dickey and Lizzie. Narcotics, maybe. I knew it was more dangerous, but then he would be dealing with nothing but scum, and vice was nothing but tramps. Anything but special victims.

I could see the profound effect that working on the SVU had on him, he'd come home with bags under his eyes, a sour expression on his face. During the middle of the night he would crawl out of bed and into Maureen's room, Kathleen and Lizzie's room, or Dickeys room, and just watch them as they slept. All night long he would just sit in their rooms and watch, sometimes I could hear him talking, praying I assumed. Sometimes there would be cursing, and sometimes (and these were rare occasions) silent weeping was all I could hear. Every now and then I would wake up in the middle of the night only to see his bright blue eyes staring at me.

That was all I had to indicate that work wasn't going so well, or that he had a particularly bad case. He had his partner to talk with; he didn't want me to carry the same burden as he did. The weight of his job was nearly too much for him to bear, he knew it would be too heavy for me. He brought his partner over sometimes, he was a nice man, loved the kids. When I learned of his death I tried my best to comfort my husband, but my best wasn't good enough.

Then he had a new partner. He didn't say much about her in the first days, just that she was a her, and to him seemed a bit green. He later told me that he had been mistaken on that opinion, completely. Olivia was her name, he said. Olivia Benson. For the first couple of months I saw that same look in his eyes that he had when he first started working on the SVU, without his partner to talk with things just built up inside, it had nowhere to go. But then, one day I noticed that look was gone. Of course he still had those same bags under his eyes and I would still wake up alone in the bed, only to hear him talking or crying in the room next to me, but the weight wasn't so much anymore. He could talk to Olivia, and for the first time I was jealous of his partner. I never had been before, when his partner was an older male instead of a younger female.

The first time I saw her that jealousy grew. At first the only thing I had to be jealous about was that she could help him with his problems, his work-related feelings, things that Elliot decided I couldn't deal with. In my mind I pictured a less attractive woman, maybe with glasses, short and not so well built. I was fooling myself, I knew it, but as long as I didn't know for sure that was what Olivia Benson looked like. That first day I saw her it took all my effort to keep my composure, she was beautiful, exotically so. Everything I didn't have she did. Tall, slim, dark hair and eyes, next to her I looked plain. Three pregnancy's left my figure in not-so-perfect shape and where my hair had once been beautiful and shinny it was now brittle with dead ends, and my face showed the signs of many years of waking up in the middle of the night to feed the children, I felt simple and unattractive. I decided then and there that I didn't like her. My opinion never changed.

Over the years the slump in his shoulders straightened and his eyes had a new shine to them. I wasn't an idiot; I could see what was going on. My husband, the man that had fathered my four children, the one I had been married to for nearly two decades, was falling in love with another woman. I ignored it; I kept it out of sight and out of mind. He still came home to me every night (or, every night he wasn't working), I was still the mother of his children, and I was still his wife. She was only his partner, I knew my husband wasn't a cheat, maybe he loved her but he would never be with her.

When I was younger, maybe Maureen or Kathleen's age, I would picture what my life would be like. The perfect man, the perfect job, the sound of children running up and down the halls of the perfect house. When Elliot and I got married I told myself that one out of three wasn't bad, Elliot was perfect for me. In my mind I envisioned us riding off into the sunset, the perfect storybook ending. But who was I kidding? Storybook endings are for fairytales. Happily ever after doesn't happen in real life, I was a fool to think it could.

So for now I'll keep telling myself that no matter what Elliot would never do anything to hurt me, maybe he loves her but he loves me, he loved me first, he'll love me forever. Maybe I'm still a fool, a desperate wife trying to hold on to the remnants of what used to be a perfect love, but what's now a convenient marriage. Maybe the best thing for me to do would be to let him go, let him be happy, and try to get on with my life. Who knows, maybe I could fall in love again, too. Maybe we weren't meant for each other, maybe she was meant for him and my perfect other is somewhere out there, waiting for me. Yeah, what a laugh. I'm nothing more than a worn-out mother; I can't compete with all of the Olivia's of the world. Hell, I couldn't even keep my husbands interest anymore.

Maybe storybook endings aren't real, and happily ever after is just a make-believe concept. But as long as I'm kidding myself why not go all out? If I'm going to lie to myself why not lie big? Maybe happily ever after doesn't happen in real life, but what's to stop it from happening in my mind?

There's a simple answer to that question. It's a name, one person has shattered all my hopes and dreams, one person has taken my life and turned it upside down. And that name is Olivia Benson. Because of her I will never be able to live happily ever after. Because of her I have to wake up everyday knowing my husband is in love with another woman, and one day that's going to catch up with me, and I'll be alone.

When Olivia Benson stole my husband she stole my life.

I hope she's happy.

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A/N: Again, if I thought this story was just horrible I wouldn't be posting it. If you've read any of my other stories (at least the continuing ones) Kathy is either nonexistent or a cheating bitch. But, I think this matches what she must be feeling. Anyway, let me know what'cha think about it.