I do my best to stay out of Olivia's way during work that day. I can't bear the pity I know I'll see in her eyes, but moreover, I'm afraid of the pain I'll read in them. I think that maybe telling her what happened to me hurt her more than it hurt me. Yes, it was one of the hardest things I'd ever done, but Olivia . . . I never wanted to upset her, and how I have.
Last night was a fluke, an accident, a mistake. Olivia can't really want me. Olivia can't really love me. She was just doing what she did out of pity, nothing more. She was treating me like a victim, nothing more. Which is why I didn't want to tell her to begin with.
I bury myself in the mountain of paperwork Liz has left on my desk and try not to think of Olivia.
There's a knock on my door around 6:30, just as I'm finishing up and getting ready to go home. "Come in," I say, but when the door opens and I see it's Olivia, I feel immediately sorry for inviting her in.
She stands awkwardly in the doorway for a moment, but then she comes up to my desks and puts a gentle hand on my arm. "I'm going to get a bite to eat," she says softly. "Want to join me?"
I'm about to say no, but something stops me. Just staring into those deep brown orbs, I can't bring myself to turn down another moment – or ten, or twenty, or an hour if things go well – with her. What's another nail in my coffin, anyway? "Sure," I say instead, trying for a smile, but it comes out more as a grimace. "As long as it doesn't turn out to be a repeat of last night."
She smiles, and there's a touch of levity behind it, but also a hint of truth. "I wouldn't mind."
"Which part? Waking up in bed with me or watching me snivel all over your apartment?"
She laughs. "You weren't snivelling, and I think that was a rhetorical question."
It was, too. I was just trying to poke some fun at myself so she wouldn't.
I hold her gaze, making sure that she knows my next words are genuine. "Thanks, Liv."
"Whoa, I didn't say I was buying dinner. You're on your own there, Counsellor."
She's deliberately misunderstanding, but I have to smile anyway. "I thought such a chivalrous woman as you would be happy to treat for dinner, Detective."
"Hey, I'm just an overworked, underpaid civil servant."
"That makes two of us."
"Yeah, I'm sure the family fortune doesn't stretch to cover dinner dates."
"Oh, so that's what this is?"
She smiles fondly at me, and I hear the truth in her words. "Of course."
My heart skips a beat, but then the moment flits away, and I bite my lip. This is something I have to say, to make sure she's really okay with where we seem to be heading. "I meant thanks for last night . . . and earlier."
"Alex, we don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to," Olivia says gently, putting her hand on my arm again, and this time I don't flinch. I melt into the touch and try not to shy away from the words that I know need to be said.
"No, I want to tell you." I take a deep breath, and lower my eyes, because I can't look into hers as I say this. I can't bear the pain I know I'll see in them. "You're the first person that I told that didn't get angry with me, or blame me. You just – you – you held me. You made me feel safe. And that – I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me. You're an amazing woman, Liv."
She lifts my chin, and all I can see in her eyes now is compassion, and something else I can't put a finger on – can it be love? "So are you," she whispers, and I hear the crack in her voice. She reaches out, caresses my cheek, smiles. "Alex, nothing that happened to you was your fault. I'm sorry that other people hurt you, and blamed you, and told you that it was, but I want you to know that they were wrong. All of them. You are an amazing woman, so brave, so strong, and so, so beautiful. I love you."
I begin to cry, then. I can't help it. No one has ever spoken to me so tenderly, and said such sweet things. No one has ever treated me the way she does, or made me feel so much with one touch, with one smile, with one word.
She takes my hand, and I'm gone. I wish I could say I love her back, because I do, I know in my heart that I do, but it's hard for me to say. Love isn't something to be treated so lightly, and I'm afraid that if I say it, my fairytale will end. I just lean into her, and she hugs me. I cry in her arms, and she lets me, until I finally run out of tears.
Suddenly, I'm embarrassed at this display of weakness, even more so because Olivia hasn't said a word. I step back, dab at my eyes with a tissue, and manage a smile. "So are we going out for dinner or not? I'll even treat, although next time, it's on you, and I'll be sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu."
"I look forward to it," she says grandly, and I smile; not because she's going to pay next time; not even because she's dropped the previous subject so easily. It's because she's just told me, loud and clear, that she wants there to be a next time.
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