Olivia eyed the bathroom door warily. "So," she began, "wanna fill me in?"

He groaned, and his head flopped back on the couch. "I'm so sorry, Liv. I meant to tell you she was here and why, but..." It didn't sound like he had a really good answer, and he was waiting for her to cut him off.

Olivia wasn't sure she wanted to let it go so easily. After all, the asshole had been back for weeks, and he was already forgetting to call her back.

"Elliot." Her voice drooped with exhaustion. She felt a headache beginning to form behind one of her eyes. He watched her anxiously as she dropped next to him on the couch. She leaned her head back against the cushions and avoided eye contact. "What are we doing here?" She rolled her head to the side so she could see his bearded face. "I can't," she sighed, "I can't do this with you anymore." His panicked expression made her quickly amend her statement. "Not like that. I mean, I can't handle how nebulous and undefined whatever this thing is between us. I'm tired of thinking I'm ready, only to have you leave. You can't have one foot in and one foot out, Elliot. Not with me."

His eyes held hers intently. "Say the word, Liv, and I'm all in."

Her breath caught in her chest, but she managed to let a warning fall from her lips. "Don't make promises you can't keep." Her voice lowered, and she felt she was laying her naked soul at his feet. "I wouldn't survive it. Not for a second time."

She watched his eyes well with unbidden tears as he lifted his hand to lightly brush her cheek. "I'm sorry." His eyes held a deep sincerity that communicated volumes.

Without thinking, she reached for his hand and tangled her fingers with his. "You can't ghost me anymore." He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she shushed him. "No, let me say this." She scooted herself into a more upright position. "I'm going to be really honest here, and God, Elliot, that scares me, but I need you to hear me."

"I'm listening. I am. Say what you need to say."

Her stomach twisted nervously before she spoke. It wasn't like she was asking for much, and it wasn't like she was asking for anything new, but she still feared the consequences of her words.

She closed her eyes, realizing that maintaining eye contact wouldn't help her pry the words from the coldest corners of her heart. "You were," she swallowed, the emotion threatening to bubble to the surface. "You were the most important thing in my life. You were my friend, my safety net." She clenched her jaw and tried to keep the tears from spilling onto her cheeks. "You were my home, Elliot." She took a slow breath, but her voice still trembled when she spoke. "I want to believe you when you say you are here, but you promised me the same thing decades ago, and you broke that promise." She shook her head. "When you go dark, when you spin out and keep me on the outside, I feel like I did ten..." she swallowed, "thirteen years ago when Cragen told me you weren't ever coming back." She tapped a finger against her temple. "I know you are here to stay. I want to believe that, but when weeks go by and you disappear..." she shook her head. "It sends me right back to that place."

His shoulders lightly shook as he let out a quiet sob. She lifted a hand to the back of his shoulders, letting her fingers dance over the stretched cotton fabric of his faded t-shirt. After some time, he regained some composure, and her hands stilled while she waited for what he had to say.

"I won't do it again. I promise Liv, and I know that probably means shit to you right now, but I will do everything possible to make you believe it's true."

She knew he meant it, and then again, he meant the things he said twenty years ago too. Most of the time, those words remained unspoken, but the understanding was there. Sometimes, in a moment of weakness, a diluted vow would escape his lips, partners, for better or for worse, but those vows were always secondary. The promises he made could never trump the vows he made to God, to his wife, and to his family. If their lives had worked in perfect harmony, then he could have kept every promise he made, but they lived in a world of constant discord, and thirteen years ago he had to choose. It hurt, but she didn't expect anything different from the man she knew so well.

She nodded, and her gaze drifted to the shelves on the wall. She remembered Meredith saying something about a photo.

She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and abruptly stood. She could feel Elliot's eyes on her, and the sudden shift was probably confusing, but she suddenly had the inexplicable urge to see what Meredith had seen. You're the woman in the photo. What photo had he displayed for the world to see? What photo did he set next to the photos of his family? Which photo did he choose to represent the woman who always came in second place?

And there it was.

Among the knickknacks and photos sat a whitewashed picture frame with an old 4x6 glossy print tucked behind the glass. She almost laughed aloud.

She knew that picture. It was the same on a shelf in her own apartment. She reached to lift the frame from its perch and inspect it closer.

She jumped when his voice registered just behind her ear. "I still remember that day. The stupid party." His voice lowered, and his hand trailed up and down her arm. "You looked so damn beautiful."

Her eyes remained on the photo when she added, "I sent you home probably five minutes after this."

"You did." He confirmed, his voice still low. "I didn't want to go."

"But you did."

"I did." She heard him hesitate before he dropped a truth that felt like a betrayal. Not to her, but to his wife. "Even then, Liv, if you would have said the word, I would have been all in."

Her heart pounded furiously as she considered the implications of what he just said. He would have left; he would have done anything she asked of him, and maybe that's why he didn't give her the choice.

She turned and found his face only inches from hers. "I would never have asked that of you. I wouldn't… I never would have taken you from them."

"I know, Liv, but I stopped trusting myself, and if I couldn't trust myself..." he shook his head, "then the job would have become more dangerous, and us... I would have broken us."

Her hand drifted to his face, dark brown eyes searched the contrasting blue.

In a moment of vulnerability, he felt that last wall tumble. "You broke me anyway."

She watched as he tried blinking away his tears, but it was a futile endeavor. "I'm sorry, Liv. So sorry. I wish, God, I wish so many things."

She felt his hands settle on her hips. Her hands moved to his chest on their own accord. She thought about pushing him away, but her body swayed into him, her cheek landing on his chest.

She took an emotion-filled breath and shook her head. "Don't you get it?" She chuckled humorlessly. "Forgiving you isn't really a choice for me. Hell, loving you isn't a choice either." She lifted her head off of his chest before admitting, "As much as I wanted to hate you, I just can't." She let out a frustrated groan before burying her face into his shoulder. "And it pissed me off. You can walk away, but I never could do the same. You left, and I still couldn't let you go. And it made me feel—God, I felt weak and stupid. You destroyed me, and you are the only person who has that power over me."

One of his hands skated up her back and tangled with her hair, pulling her in tighter. "If I could do it all over again, I would do it differently. I wish to God that I could change the past," his voice broke, "but I can't."

For a moment, she remained still, her cheeks pressed against the warmth radiating from his chest. As much as she hated to admit it, he was her home. He always had been.

His lips pressed against the top of her head, and a whispered, "Olivia," escaped his lips.

Her eyes closed. For the moment, she felt safe, seen, and, oh, so warm. "Hmm?"

"Loving you isn't a choice for me either." His hand traced light circles on her lower back. "I've loved you for so long. I don't remember what it was like not to be completely in love with you."

There was a vulnerability that accompanied his words. Honesty. No buts. No qualifiers. Just the simple truth.

Truth for a truth.

She tilted her head up so she could see his face while she admitted, "It's the same for me. I hated myself for it, but it's always been you, El, and it always will be."

She wasn't sure who kissed who first. Maybe it was mutual, or maybe it was an inevitability that neither of them could deny any longer.

He kissed her slowly, with no rush, as if he wanted to savor every single moment of her lips moving with his. When they finally broke apart, both caught their breath. Her eyes met his, and in silent agreement, their lips crashed into each other. The dam they had carefully built came crashing down, and the floodwaters submerged everything in sight.

His tongue was in her mouth, and she felt a desperate sound escape her chest. She sucked on his tongue, and a desperate groan filled the air. The backs of her legs met the back of the couch, and she allowed herself to fall into the couch cushions with Elliot careening after her. Her legs fell apart as he settled himself against her, and her knees tightened around his hips.

He kissed his way down her neck, nipping the skin just below her ear. The sensation left her practically gasping. Her hands dipped beneath his shirt when she was overcome with the desire to feel the heat on his skin.

He followed suit, his large hand dipping beneath the hem of her shirt. His lips sank over her collarbone while his hands danced further and further up her shirt. She really wanted him to really touch her, and her body unconsciously responded with an arching of her back. The movement and change of angle positioned his hand right over her breast. She encouraged him with a desperate whimper that must have made him crazy because his hand immediately began to squeeze and knead her breast.

They let out a satisfied moan in tandem.

Good lord. She really, really hoped Meredith was serious about those headphones.