They drove about three blocks before Noah asked, "Are you dating Elliot?" He kept staring out the window like he didn't just ask her the most complicated question in the world.

"Um." How to answer this one…

Noah continued, "I mean, he's slept over a couple times, and you kissed him at the hospital."

Damn. She hoped he hadn't seen that. It's complicated didn't seem like a satisfactory answer, but she also wasn't up for explaining the complicated nuances of adult relationships with her eleven year old.

"Mom?" He wasn't going to drop it.

"It's complicated," she answered.

Noah groaned. "That's what grown-ups always say when they don't want to talk about something." He looked out the window again, and Olivia felt his disappointment.

She sighed. "I really care about Elliot."

"I think he cares about you too, mom."

"Yeah, I know," She admitted. "But," she really didn't know how to explain the next part, "he hurt my feelings badly when he left me, and went to Italy."

Noah digested that information for a minute. "Has he said sorry?"

She wished sorry could be enough. She wished sorry could change ten years of abandonment. She wished it erased the PTSD and a kidnapping and torture. If only it held that power.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"Did he mean it?" Noah watched her in the rear view mirror.

"I think so." She thought about it, "yeah, I know he meant it."

Noah chewed in that, and she knew all of this was so simple in his mind. Elliot said sorry, he meant it, and that should be enough. She wished it was enough.

"He meant it, but what he did still makes you sad." Bless him and his child's intuition.

"Yes."

"Okay," he answered, seeming to understand. His eyes returned to the window, watching the buildings pass.

The ride in silence for a few minutes before Noah said, "Mom." He caught her eyes in the rearview, "I'm sorry he made you so sad."

She smiled, swallowing the lump in her throat. She thanked God for this sweet empathetic boy's presence in her life.

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Olivia dodged Elliot's calls over the weekend. He called and she would send a generic text about work getting busy, or a case eating all her time, but the truth was that she couldn't keep up the pretense of everything being fine, and Elliot would see right through her attempts to do so.

By Sunday morning he stopped calling, and instead of feeling relief, she felt intense sadness. Sunday afternoon, Kathleen texted her to let her know Elliot would be discharged in the morning, and wondered if she wanted to pick him up or meet him at home. Olivia didn't know how to answer that, so she didn't answer at all.

Sunday night she felt eaten alive with guilt. He got shot, and she couldn't get her shit together enough to be there for him. In fact, the whole thing sent her into a free falling spiral that she couldn't seem to shake.

Monday morning she woke up missing Elliot. She knew it didn't make sense to keep him at arms length. It kept her from him in the same way his abandonment did, but this put her in control, which made her feel safe. Safe, but lonely.

She made it to work absurdly early, and was shocked to find Fin already there, coffee in hand. Fin didn't come to work early, ever, so she knew the direction the conversation was going to take before he even opened his mouth.

She sighed, motioned for him to follow her to her office, and swiped the coffee from his hand. God knows she would need something stronger than coffee after this conversation. She set the coffee down on her desk, and sank into her chair. Fin followed, shutting the door behind him. He immediately sat on her couch and gave her that look. The "what the hell is wrong with you, will you please get out of the way of your own happiness" look.

It was too early for this. "What?" She shot daggers from her eyes.

He lifted his hands defensively. "I was just wondering when Stabler was being released."

She knew that he already knew, and she wasn't sure why they were keeping up the pretense, but if it would delay the inevitable impending conversation then she would play along. She took a sip of the coffee. "This morning, I think." Like she didn't know. She felt Fin's mental eye roll.

Fin clearly wasn't in the mood for shit because what started as a friendly conversation turned into a, "Why the hell aren't you at the hospital?"

Not sure how to answer that she just sat in silence.

Fin leaned forward with his forearms resting on his knees. "Liv, I have known you upwards of two decades now, and I've had your back for most of that time. Here's the thing, I have watched you and Stabler dance around this," he made a nonsensical motion with his hands, "Whatever the hell this is for more than twenty years." He paused until she made eye contact. "Get out of your own damn way Liv."

She sucked in a nervous breath, "I want to, but what if we try, and it fails. It hurt enough the first time he left, and I don't think I could do it again."

"Life doesn't give guarantees. You know that." He let out a frustrated sigh, "If you are waiting for some guarantee from the universe, you will die waiting."

She felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I don't know if I can."

Fin set his palms on his thighs and stood up. "Gotta take a chance sometime Liv." And with that, he left the office, shutting the door behind him.