Three weeks later Olivia walked up the steps of Elliot house, and onto the front porch. She knocked on the front door and stepped back, waiting for an answer. After a few seconds the door clicked open and Elliot stood in the doorway.
"Hi," she said awkwardly. "I was in the neighborhood." Elliot raised his brow, knowing that she was lying and there was a more important reason why she was standing on his front porch.
"You were in the neighborhood?" he asked sarcastically looking at his watch. "And you just got off of work and took a detour through queens." Olivia smiled softly at his sarcasm.
"Ok fine you caught me. I need your help," she confessed.
"Come on in?" he said opening the door wider so Olivia could walk in.
"I'm not interrupting anything am I?" she asked.
"Kathy took everyone to her parents," he said closing the door. Olivia looked at him, in concern. "Just for the weekend. They're coming back. At least I hope," he added with a small laugh knowing what Olivia was thinking. Olivia followed Elliot into the living room and sat down on the couch, across from Elliot, in the arm chair. "What's up?"
"I don't know if I even really have a problem or I'm just over thinking but it's been driving me up a wall. Mark and I have been together for over a year, and in all that time, we never talked about my past," she said.
"Your father," Elliot said. Olivia nodded.
"We sort of talk about my mother here and there, but not about what happened. I mean he knows about the alcoholism, and the abuse and everything like that but not about the rape." Elliot nodded. "I mean it kills me to keep it from him, but I don't even see it like that. I see it like it never came up."
"And you are asking me if you should tell him at all."
"And how," she added. After a few moments Elliot shifted in his chair before leaning forward.
"I can't tell you how to do it, but if you're asking me my opinion I think that you need to tell him. Without a doubt," he told her. Olivia nodded as she glanced down at the floor. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just nervous that's all," she said standing up slowly.
"You'll be fine. If anything he's going to want to comfort you," he said standing up.
"Thanks," she said walking around the coffee table toward the front door.
"You call me if you need to," Elliot said. Olivia nodded before opening the front door and walking toward her car. Thirty minutes later Olivia walked up the stairs of Mark's apartment building and down the hall. She knocked lightly on the door before opening it and walking in to find Mark laying on the couch watching tv.
"Hey gorgeous," he said with a smile. She smiled as she closed the door behind her. She set her bag against the wall and walked over to her fiancé. She bent over and kissed him lightly before walking into the kitchen and taking a wine glass out of the cabinet.
"How was work?" he asked as he walked into the kitchen.
"Okay," she said pouring wine into the glass. After a few moments of silence Mark walked further into the kitchen.
"Everything okay?" he asked. Olivia looked up at him nervously.
"I need to talk to you about something, and it's pretty important," she said softly. Mark's eyes widened slightly fearing that something was wrong. She walked around the island in the middle of the kitchen toward Mark. She took his hand in hers and walked into the living room. Mark sat on the couch as Olivia sat across from him on the edge of the coffee table.
"Mark, I love you and I don't want to keep anything from you about me, but with us getting married here in a matter of months I think that it would be unfair to you if I didn't tell you this," she said as she took both of his hands. Mark raised his brow in confusion as to what Olivia was going to tell him. "Mark you're family, your brothers and sisters and parents. It's something that I don't have, and you know that, but what you don't know is why I don't."
"Olivia I don't care. I mean I care, but regardless of whether you have a family or not I still love you and want to marry you," he told her.
"I know that but it's still important for you to know." Mark nodded. "Mark you know how anytime you or I mention my mother all that we really talk about is her alcoholism and how she treated me."
"Yeah."
"I guess I'm just wondering why you never really asked me about my father."
"I never asked because I wanted you to introduce the reason when you wanted. But now I'm wondering more about it."
"Mark, I don't know my father," she said plainly.
"I figured that was why you never mentioned him," he said.
"Yeah but it's not that simple." Olivia looked down at the floor. "Mark, my mother was raped in 1967. That's primarily why I joined the Special Victims Unit. Um, because of that rape, my mother became pregnant and had me." Mark's mouth opened slightly, stunned at what Olivia was telling him. He looked down at the floor and stood up slowly. Olivia watched as her fiancé walked around the living room slowly. "I know that I should have told you earlier but it never really came up and I was scared about how you would react."
"Olivia, what happened to your mother is wrong and inhumane in every way and I am so sorry about that, but I've known you for over a year. I told you everything about my life, I mean you were there at my mother's funeral, Christmas at my parent's house. How could you not tell me about this?"
"Mark, I'm sorry but it never came up and I didn't know how you would react," she said, her eyes watering slightly.
"Well Olivia, I'm sorry that I never asked you why you don't have a father," he said loudly throwing up his arms in the air.
"Mark, please don't do this. I'm sorry for not telling you sooner," she said apologetically. Mark shook his head turning around and walking into the bedroom, closing the door loudly behind him. Olivia felt her stomach flip as tears rolled down her cheeks. She stood up and fell onto the couch as tears continued to fall from her eyes.
An hour later, Mark slowly opened the door of the bedroom and walked down the hall into the empty living room. "Olivia!" he called. Silence filled the air as he walked over to the couch and found a single piece of white paper in the middle of the coffee table. He lifted it up and turned it over, recognizing Olivia's writing on the front.
Mark- I love you more than anything in this world, and I first just want to apologize for what happened tonight. I never should have kept this from you for so long and for that I am and forever will be sorry. What happened to my mother is something that I live with everyday. Every single time a victims gives Elliot and I her statement, and every single time that I put handcuffs on a man who has raped a woman, I think of my mother. I do this job as sort of an attempt for me to give something back to my mother. Through all of the abuse that I endured I still love her very much. Up until the day I met
you I was alone, living through the unit, and doing everything I could to try and convince myself that they were my family. As much as they mean to me, no matter how much I try, I will never have what you have. I never intended to hurt you tonight by telling you that I am a product of a rape (that sounds strange because most people would think that you would comfort me and tell me that it doesn't matter, and the genes that I got from my father and my mother don't matter), and promise not to ever keep something to myself. I'm sorry Mark. Love, Olivia
Mark felt his eyes water as he threw the paper down on the table. He paced around the living room, knowing that he made a huge mistake, and that he should be the one apologizing to Olivia. He picked up the paper once again and continued o read the last few sentences. He sensed a hurt in her voice, as though she was telling him this, standing in front of him.
Elliot walked through the dark house toward the stairs when a knock sounded at his door. He walked over and opened it to Mark standing on his porch. Elliot raised his brow, surprised to see Mark.
"Mark," he said puzzled.
"I'm an idiot," he said plainly looking at Elliot.
"And I'm wondering how you figured out where I live."
"I looked in the phone book. I knew that you lived in Queens," Mark confessed. "She told me about her father. She told me and I flipped out and ran out like a little kid. I was mad that she didn't tell me earlier without even listening to what she was actually telling me." Mark ran his hands through his hair. "You've known her for forever, what do I do?"
"Can't you two deal with this on your own? Why do you need to come to me?" Elliot said sarcastically.
"Because you have known her for ten years. Help me out man, I don't know what to do," Mark begged. Elliot rolled his eyes.
"No, you're not getting me. Olivia was here earlier tonight asking me whether she should tell you and how," Elliot explained. Mark stared at Elliot, surprised. Elliot nodded before stepping out onto the porch. "What happened to Olivia's mother is terrible, and I can't even imagine doing this job every day knowing that your mother was once a victim, and that you are a result of that terrible moment." Mark nodded.
"I know that now, but I made a huge mistake earlier by getting mad instead of telling her that I love her regardless of what happened to her mother," Mark said looking down at the ground.
"Mark what I think that you don't understand about Olivia's situation is that her mother wasn't just raped. She is a product of the worst moment in her mother's life," Elliot said firmly. He watched at Mark processed what Elliot had told him. Silence filled the space between the two men. "Mark, I know you love her. And she loves you. Go talk to her." Mark nodded as he looked up at Elliot before turning and walking toward the stairs. Elliot smiled lightly before turning back toward his house.
"Elliot!" Mark called from the bottom of the stairs. Elliot turned around quickly. "Thanks," he said softer. Elliot smiled.
"Night," he said as he walked back into the house, closing the front door behind him. Mark walked down the hall of Olivia's floor and stopped in front of her door. He knocked lightly, but after hearing no movement inside the apartment, he knocked louder. After a few moments, the door clicked and opened revealing Olivia, still in her jeans from the day, but with a gray NYPD t-shirt on.
"Mark," Olivia said surprised, but before she could say anything else, Mark quickly stepped through the doorway and brought his hands to Olivia's jaw and kissed her. Olivia brought her hands to Mark's biceps as they parted.
"Olivia, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes watering slightly. "You were right. I should have comforted you instead of walking away. I love you and I want you to talk to me about things when you are ready." Olivia smiled lightly before kissing him again, lightly.
"I'm sorry for not telling you earlier. I was just scared about how you would react," she said as Mark pulled her into a hug. She wrapped her arms around his neck.