"Don't try to call

There are some bridges that burn

Beyond recognition, beyond repair"

-Ruins, Melissa Etheridge

Wednesday, June 7, 2023

Night

She pushes at his chest, her fingers no longer caressing, her arms fighting the pure strength in his, and she knows he's not trying to overpower her, that he just hasn't caught onto her derailed train of thought about the evening, but her anger keeps building and it suddenly occurs to her that she has to depend on the belief that he would never try to overpower her because she could never best him in a contest of strength and it scares the everliving shit out of her because for a second she feels as helpless as she did at the mercy of Lewis, like she might as well be bound and gagged and drugged because she couldn't move him if she wanted to and she really, really wants to and she's shoving full strength against his chest and she's trying to get him far enough away to close her legs and he's realizing something is wrong but he cannot possibly know what and he's not pawing at her anymore but he's definitely still entrenched in her personal space and she's not pushing as hard because the panic is fading because he's taking the hint and her hands are resting on his chest and he reaches up to hold them, and his thumbs are stroking her skin and she thinks it would feel so damn good if she wasn't so fucking angry, but she is angry because she panics sometimes because of what happened when he left her.

His voice is soft when he speaks, the sound as much a caress as his fingers on her skin. "It's ok, Liv, trust me."

It's the wrong thing to say. It's possibly the wrongest thing he's ever said.

She shoves him hard and the motion is unexpected enough that he stumbles backwards and she's able to slide off the counter but her legs are wobbly and she's still fucking drunk and she clings to the edge of the island and prays she doesn't wind up on the floor because he'll help her. Her balance mercifully returns somewhat and she turns slowly to face him, her fury rising as she sees the utter confusion reflected on his face.

"Trust you? How the fuck am I supposed to trust you?" She knows if she pauses too long he'll start talking and she doesn't want to listen to him right now, she wants him to listen. "You knew what leaving would do to me and you did it anyway."

She feels raw and vulnerable and she wants to fix her shirt and smooth down the way it's twisted up around her waist because Elliot lifted it while he was touching her and she really didn't intend to have this conversation tonight but she is having it and now she does want him to respond because she wants some fucking answers.

He seems to realize that too and he nods slowly. "I had a reason, Liv, and I know now that it was a shit reason so it doesn't matter what it was, but I promise you, I had a reason and I thought it was a good one at the time."

She scoffs, his non-answer stoking her ire. "Oh well that makes it all better then, doesn't it?"

"I don't expect you to forgive me. I'll never forgive myself."

She thinks there are tears in his eyes and she thinks she hears true remorse in his voice but she can't let herself believe it because she wants to be mad right now and let out all the rage she's been holding in because it's too hard to bite it back anymore. So instead of mercy, he gets an eye roll from her.

And then she's shaking her head and she's just getting more angry and now she's disappointed in him too because he doesn't even have the balls to tell her the truth. She's looking towards his front door and trying to remember if she brought a bag with her or a jacket and she can't remember where she put her keys but she knows she can't drive right now anyway and she thinks she spots them on the table by the door and that's her target, so she can get into her apartment after she gets an Uber home and she takes one shaky step and she needs the counter to keep herself upright.

"Liv, where are you going?"

She shakes her head at him and refuses to meet his eyes because her heart is breaking again. "You won't even tell me why you did it, Elliot, fuck, what kind of relationship do you think we could possibly have if I can't forgive you and I can't trust you?" She doesn't want to start crying, not in front of him, but she knows the tears are trying to fight free anyway. This whole damn thing is fucking doomed and has been from the start and she just wishes she could have realized it sooner because maybe then it would hurt less.

She's staring at her keys and trying to muster up the courage to try to walk that far without something to lean on and unfortunately Elliot misreads her hesitation and moves back in front of her and his hands are at her hips and she fucking hates that it really helps her balance.

"Liv, you can trust me. This thing with us isn't going to go away. We have to work through it. We'll be ok if we just talk."

She doesn't want to talk because talking might open the floodgates and there's no fucking telling what she'll say if she loses control. She tries to shove at him, but her hands aren't cooperating because the room is spinning and he's the only thing steady and her hands are just resting on his skin because fucking hell he hasn't rebuttoned his shirt yet. She's blinking back the tears and her vision is swimming because blinking never actually stops tears and then the words start to slip out and damn him for invoking the opening of the gates.

She shoves harder and when that fails she curls her nails into his skin and she hears his hiss of pain and ignores it because right now, she hurts more than any physical pain she could possibly inflict on him. "Part of me still blames you for what happened to me." She hates that she has to stop to sniffle and she hates even more that the blinking predictably failed and there are tears on her cheeks. "You weren't there when I needed you."

And now he's the one looking away and turning his head and she's gripping his chin to keep him in front of her as her eyes burn furiously into his because he brought this on himself, by leaving and by coming back. "You said once that we were partners for better or worse. Do you remember that?" She waits for a nod that isn't coming but she can see from his expression that he remembers anyway because that isn't something you forget saying to someone. "Well it got a hell of a lot worse, Elliot."

She stops talking, as though she suddenly remembers she never wanted to have this discussion with him and she can't look away from him as she watches the emotions cycling across his face and she sees when it finally clicks, when he sobers a little, his jaw going slack as he realizes - apparently for the first time - that it wasn't all sunshine and roses for her while he was gone, that it wasn't just his absence she had to survive. That makes her mad too because she doesn't understand how he didn't know because they have mutual friends and he had four adult children in the city and she's a fucking cautionary tale for new hires about not getting too close to a case like it was somehow her fault.

He presses closer to her, concern narrowing his eyes as he leans down. "Liv, what happened?"

She shakes her head and looks away because she's afraid she really will break if she has to tell him and suddenly even more afraid that he'll break if he finds out. "You don't want to know," she whispers, the weak statement serving as a warning of both her mental state and the precipice on which he's standing completely unaware.

He's staring at her and she can see the way his mind is sorting through the options, playing out the possibilities, and he's trying to read her face for a clue and he's never going to get there because the worst he's going to come up with based on their history is that she was raped and she wasn't because it was so much worse than that and given forever he'll never guess and she at least wants to be mollified that he didn't know but she's not because he should have known and she's just getting more and more resentful over everything and it's all the emotions she buried and never even hashed out with her doctor because this was between her and Elliot and she doesn't talk about them with anyone, not even them, except Elliot wasn't there and didn't know about what she endured without him and she's frozen because she's so fucking furious she wants to strangle him and he's still drunk and misreads her stillness as a need for comfort like her hint at what happened was the whole discussion and the catharsis she needed.

He's right there, his body pressed against her and reaches for her and she's afraid to move because she might actually reach for her weapon because she's pissed as fuck at him now because he asked once and then accepted her refusal to answer and he's never accepted her refusal to answer without a fight and he's actually thinking they can skip the horrible part and just move on to the comforting and she's not there yet and she fears she will never be and he doesn't seem to have any idea of that. His hand is on her face and he's leaning in and pressing his forehead to hers and his arms are sneaking around her and she feels the frustrated tears welling over and spilling down her cheeks and she feels herself collapsing under the weight of this fucking fury she's never acknowledged even to herself and he's still misreading her and thinking she's accepting this comfort and she's never felt further away from him than she does right now standing in his arms.

She's stiff as a board and he finally feels that and releases her, but he tries to catch her eyes and settles for wiping away her tears and she's starting to believe there really is no way to fix this because he doesn't understand that she's angry not sad, let alone why she's angry and then like a fucking idiot he's holding her jaw and brushing his lips over hers and she cannot believe he's that dumb, that out of tune with her, that he's misreading her so completely. This man she always thought could read her mind doesn't have any idea she's damn near homicidally pissed at him and she's horrified by how very wrong she apparently was all along by their dynamic and he's leaning into her again and sandwiching her against the counter while he's kissing her and she's not kissing him and she doesn't even decide to do it, it just happens, her head jerking back to avoid his kiss just as her palm slaps his cheek.

He seems to finally get it then, lifting his hands from her body and staggering away like he's been burned and she thinks maybe he has been because he's finally aware she's furious and it probably seems like it came out of nowhere because he really had no clue she was mad.

But it's her opening and she has to take it and she's staggering but she gets across the room and to the table by the door and she grabs her keys and she's pulling open the door and she's fumbling for her phone because she knows she can't drive but she's panicking that he's going to stop her.

"Liv, wait!"

And it's just like she feared and she can hear him slam into the wall as he tries to stagger after her and she's trying to work her phone and get a ride and she can't see through the tears and she just knows she has to get away from him because fuck she feels the anger fading and she can't give in and let him comfort her right now.

She thinks an Uber is on its way and she turns back to gauge his approach and he's making up the ground she lost while she was trying to use her phone. "Don't. Just don't." He stops and she assumes he's listening. "Don't come near me. Don't call me."

He hears that, the warning, and he heeds it. His face contorting with heartbreak as he tries again. "I'm sorry."

She shakes her head and braces herself on the wall as she trips down the hall toward the door of his building and she hears his voice growing softer as she puts distance between them, his apologies sounding heartfelt while she ignores them.