Cause it was not your fault but mine

We come back that night and I decide to ask

"How was your appointment with Dr. Terry?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She shuts down as she makes dinner, I offered knowing things have been difficult on her and then she said she could handle pasta, and I set the stove on fire last month. Again

"We don't have to talk right now but we do need to talk." I don't want to push too hard but I want to help her get better, even if it means a little pain at first.

"What is it with you." She lashes out.

I take a deep breath knowing that she's being defensive out of a place of hurt and try not to be angry.

"Liv, calm down, please baby, take a deep breath you know we have to talk about it."

"Fine" she huffs "Let's talk about us, let's talk about how you keep treating me like I'm broken." Her volume raises

"Liv" I attempted to lower my own to try to keep this from becoming a fight "You are broken -"

"If you think I'm broken why don't you just leave! Why should you care! I'm just another broken sex crimes detective, just another cliche!" She cuts off.

"I'm not leaving because I'm broken too, this job it takes part if your soul, and you filled it. I am broken, but you healed me, which is why I care, it's why I love you. Please, let me heal you like you healed me. And Livia, baby, you're not a cliche, in this line of work, a broken soul is a good sign. That's what Liz told me when I started here, 'a broken soul is a good sign, Alex, it means you still have one.' I found it so utterly depressing at the time, but now it's easily the second most beautiful thing I've ever heard in my life."

She lets out a giggle in between tears and sits on my lap on the couch "Not something you'd embroider on a pillow"

"It most certainly isn't" I agree, crying for the tenth time today, or was it the twelfth, I had locked myself in my office all day, still a mess from the morning and I just let myself cry, I soaked the brief I was working on with my tears, and had to redo my makeup before leaving.

"Wait." she asks again "What's the most beautiful thing you've heard?"

Her tone implies her belief is that I was about to speak in latin, but I tell her the truth "Your voice telling me I love you."

"Now that- that's the most beautiful thing I've heard in my life." She says, smiling softly

"Lex," She murmurs after a few minutes, I look to her "you were right, I was being defensive."

"It's okay." I whisper.