Cragen wouldn't let me switch partners. I figured I should try to get Olivia out of the mess I was getting her into just by spending so much time with her, but he told me it was impossible. Well, he told me that switching was impossible, not that trying to help Olivia was impossible. I didn't share that particular motivation with him.

I check my watch and see that I've been sitting at her desk for almost twenty minutes, trying to pretend it doesn't bother me that Stabler is the one comforting her. There was a time when she ran to me instead of from me when she was upset over something. I'm assuming she's upset because it's better than the alternative explanation – she just couldn't get away from me fast enough. I think back to our embrace on the sidewalk, going over every detail and deciding once again that she initiated the whole thing. Now she's probably angry she let it happen, angry she let me in. She already knows what happens when I get too close.

I wanted to turn around and find her the moment I saw she wasn't in the squad room, but Stabler beat me to it. I'm sure he couldn't wait to find her and tell her he'd discovered my true intentions. I shouldn't have responded to his accusations the way I did, but I couldn't resist. If I'm honest with myself, I'll be thrilled to spend the night in Olivia's bed before this case is over, even if she can't tell me she loves me. Hell, I'll take ten minutes in the broom closet if it means I'm with her.

Munch looks up from his paperwork as I stifle a laugh at that last thought. "Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class?"

"Not particularly." I hope I sound nonchalant, especially since I feel a little dirty thinking about sex in the sex crimes squad room. Munch grumbles something about 'federal conspiracies' as he goes back to whatever he was doing and I go back to thinking about Olivia.

Lately I've been forcing myself to think about the lowest points in our relationship, trying to figure out how I let them get so out of hand, I guess. I mean, I know I never had complete control, but there are some things I know I could have done differently...

Every so often I wake up in a cold sweat after a nightmare, thinking we're losing our baby all over again. Everything was fine for four and a half months, then, two days before we were going to find out if we were having a boy or a girl, it happened. One minute we were asleep, the next she was screaming in pain, clutching her slightly swollen belly. There was blood in our bed, blood on my hands, blood everywhere. I didn't bother to call an ambulance, but radioed a friend I knew would be on patrol near our apartment. I had to carry her down two flights of stairs. Holding her in the back seat of the cruiser, I was so afraid she was going to die before we got to the hospital.

People stared as I ran in to the ER, holding her in my arms and escorted by two uniformed officers. I was wearing a pair of jeans and nothing else; she was naked except for the blanket I had wrapped around her. I hadn't been thinking very clearly when I ran out of the apartment with her. I wasn't thinking clearly in the hospital either. All I could do was demand that they save her. They took her to surgery.

I waited for what felt like a week. When the doctor finally came to talk to me, I was still a wreck. Is was all I could do to ask, "Will she be okay?"

His bedside manner was less then comforting. "Barring any infection that could develop, she'll be fine."

"And the baby?"

He looked at me like he'd never heard such a stupid question. "I'm sorry, but there was nothing we could do to save the fetus."

And, just like that, Olivia and I were no longer parents-to-be.

Lying in her hospital bed, holding her as she cried, as we cried, was the most agonizing thing I'd experienced up to that point in my life.

After a few hours, she said, "You almost had me convinced."

"Of what?"

"That I could be a good mother."

If I had said the right thing in that moment, I might have saved us. Instead, I told her everything would be all right and buried my face in her hair. We stopped talking after that. I don't mean just for that night, but for the remaining two months of our relationship.

She wanted to talk. I knew it, but I avoided her. I spent more time at my own precinct, more time out with the guys. I still loved her. How could I not? I just didn't know what I could possibly say to her anymore. She was in so much pain and I couldn't fix it. I was impotent and it was scary. I turned into the biggest jerk possible.

One night, two months after we lost the baby, my partner and I walked into a convenience store robbery. The perp got spooked and fired a few wild shots before we took him down. He was the only one that got hurt. My partner and I were treated like heroes; we even got our faces on the local news. After the cameras stopped rolling, every cop we ran into bought us drinks. I was wasted by the time I finally got home. I'm almost surprised that I can remember what happened.

Olivia was sitting on the couch, waiting for me. "You're home late."

"Yeah. You see me on the news?"

I wanted her to be excited, but she was subdued. "Uh-huh. Hero cop, very impressive."

I sat down next to her, trying to kiss her cheek but making contact with her neck instead of her lips. She pushed me away. "I can't."

"It's been two months."

"Andy, this isn't going to work if you..."

"If I what, Olivia? Try to have start having sex with you again?"

Her reply was completely off-topic. "I don't want to lose you. I can't."

Thinking she just needed some reassurance, I spoke into her neck as I started kissing her again. "Don't be so paranoid. I'm not gonna get shot, I'm not gonna get hurt."

"Oh, and walking around drunk in your uniform is the safest thing you can possibly do?"

I wouldn't make myself understand her. I just wanted to get laid and I started to get angry when I saw she wasn't in the mood. Still. I thought long and hard for a moment before saying the most hurtful thing I could think of. "Why do you think I'll be safe if I'm here with you? My baby was inside you, and you couldn't keep it safe. Hell, you couldn't even keep it alive." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I regretted saying them, regretted even thinking them. I didn't believe them for a second, but I couldn't take them back.

Reaching into her chest and ripping her heart out would have caused less pain than those words did. I tried to apologize, but she wouldn't listen. She tried to leave; I tried to stop her. I think she punched me. Everything else was a blur.

The next morning, I woke up on the kitchen floor, still wearing my uniform. The night came back to me in bits and pieces, like a bad dream. I called in sick, showered, changed and went out to find her. I checked with all of her friends, her precinct and even my own parents before I found her at her mother's place.

I don't think her mother ever really liked me. When she answered the door she was even colder, painfully formal. "Andrew."

"Please, I just need to talk to Liv."

"I'm afraid she won't see you."

"No, you don't understand, I just need to talk to her."

"All I know is that you hurt my daughter badly enough to drive her to me of all people. She told me what you said to her."

"Ms. Benson, you know I would never say those things to Olivia if I wasn't drunk." I decided not to push too hard. "Please, if she won't talk to me, just tell her that I'm sorry and I love her."

She sighed before responding, "In vino veritas, Andrew. Now, get out and leave us alone." She didn't slam the door but shut it quietly in my face. I went back to our apartment and waited for Olivia to come home.

I ended up waiting for two weeks. One day when I came home from work, all of her stuff was gone and her engagement ring was sitting on the kitchen counter. I finally understood that she wasn't coming home. I was absolutely furious. I'd given her everything she could have wanted. I had loved her more than anyone could expect to be loved. I actually went to her precinct and got into a shouting match with her; we both got reprimands for that one. I started sniping more discretely, spreading rumors. It was high school and I was the jilted quarterback trying to make the head cheerleader pay for making me look bad. I was so angry that she'd left me it took me almost three months to remember why.

When I finally realized how much I needed her, how much I loved her, it was too late. I had already destroyed every vestige of our relationship. By the time I saw her five years later, we were practically strangers. She was with Stabler and some other detectives, but she looked so alone. I don't know if it was because she actually was lonely or because she was the only person in the bar I could see. I went over to talk to her, and she treated me like an old friend rather than an ex-lover. At the end of the night, I asked her out to dinner, but she just invited me back to her apartment. She didn't want me to love her; she wanted me to fuck her. Speaking simply as a man, how could I say no? For six months I gave her exactly what she wanted, until I couldn't hold it in anymore. I told her I loved her and she threw me out of her life. Again. Three months ago she wouldn't even give me a chance to buy her a drink.

I'm pretty sure it was after I saw her three months ago that I started to think rationally about why we couldn't reconnect. It's taken me ten years, but I can finally see the things I've done wrong, the ways I've hurt her. I know what to avoid, what not to say and do. For the most part, I was happy when I was with her. I want that feeling again.

I lose my train of thought and snap to attention as Olivia finally walks into the squad room, Stabler right behind her. I wish I could hate him, but now I know I can't. He cares about Olivia, watches her back, both on the job and off. Grudging respect is too strong a phrase, but I can't think of any other way to describe how I feel about the guy.

I'm already standing, so I offer her the chair as she comes over to her desk. "Liv, about earlier, I'm, uh, sorry if, well, y'know, I did something or, uh..."

She touches my arm and says, "Andy, it's okay." She smiles and I manage to give her a weak smile in return. I think we may be defining 'okay' in drastically different ways.

Cragen provides a third, less loaded meaning as he emerges from his office, "Okay, people, now that you're all back, let's see what we got."

I already know what I've got – a major uphill battle to get Olivia to give me another chance. Not that I deserve it.