She's here. Frustrated, but here.
After two decades on the job, handfuls of psych evals, and standing appointments with Lindstrom, she should have known better. If she wants to get to the root of her issues and feelings, she has to put in the work. No self-help book on trust (which she impulsively purchased on Amazon after a meager Google search while waiting for Noah to finish dance class) was ever going to resolve this. No bullshit relationship guru with a million Instagram followers and dozens of hashtags on each post was going to solve the puzzle of Olivia and Elliot and their undefinable interconnection.
So, here she is, sitting across from Lindstrom, familiar patterns in unfamiliar territory. For once, she's not here to dissect her trauma responses or PTSD or bring up Lewis for the zillionth time. (She's not naive; she knows it will all come up anyway because everything stems from these things.) Whether she'd like to admit it or not, Elliot was the before in her bunker full of afters. His leaving triggered her, Lewis traumatized her, and now Elliot's return has been complicated and confusing, reigniting her fears and flight response. She is trying to keep her walls carefully erected, but every time she sees his eyes, his smile, the way he sips his coffee, she crumbles. Every time she hears his voice, whether it is the cacophony of anger and panic or the cadence of friendship and healing, she wants to hold him and never let go.
She's missed him.
She's petrified.
"So," Lindstrom begins, "you tried a self-help book and mentioned it was bad."
She snickers. "It wasn't bad, it was just written for a specific audience. I'm not that audience."
"Oh? Describe the audience you felt it was written for."
"It was written for people who worship bloggers and Instagrammers and are looking for those buzz-word mantras. 'Live-laugh-love' people. People that are struggling in their relationships because of cheating and lies. Nothing in there really mentioned abandonment, at least not in the way I've experienced it. I don't know- I read it and didn't feel seen."
Lindstrom does his signature quiet reflection over her words, while she waits in silence. Finally, he offers, "What were you hoping the book would say?"
That's a great question.
"Honestly, I'm not sure. I mean, it wasn't going to have a chapter titled, 'How to get past your work partner of twelve years abandoning you without a word and then reappearing in your life ten years later with no warning.'"
Lindstrom laughs. "Yeah, that's an awfully specific chapter title." He sobers quickly. "But, let's dissect some of those words. You mentioned that he's your work partner. Is that all he is, or was?"
"No," she offers quickly, even surprising herself. "He was my best friend."
"And what is he now that's he's back?"
"I'd consider him a friend. Always my friend. I'm not sure if I can allow anything more than that."
"Olivia, has he explained his absence from your life?"
"No, and I don't expect him to. His wife died and he's grieving- I'm not going to force him into explaining away the last ten years."
"I understand, however, there's nothing wrong with having an honest discussion. Honesty breeds trust."
"I know, it's just…" She closes her eyes for a second, gathering thoughts she's never said aloud. "I already know the reason. He doesn't have to verbalize it. The reason he left is the same reason I never chased after him. He may have physically left, but I ran too."
This is the first time she's admitted her role in the tattered remnants of their shared past. The guilt that's eaten pieces of her soul for a decade. He was always strong for her: the risk taker, the protector. Jenna destroyed him because Jenna almost killed her. He walked away; she didn't follow. Elliot thinks he didn't let her follow, but she could have fought for him, could have found him in these ten years apart. Could have forced him to open up, own up to this thing between them. Could have nurtured him in the aftermath of the trauma that shattered their final pieces of platonic loyalty and devotion.
There were six reasons why she didn't, all with the last name Stabler.
Lindstrom doesn't push and Liv doesn't offer anything else, unspoken words floating in the air between them. She knows he's using one of his tactics, he'll stare at her for the rest of the session until she cracks. Instead, her mind is drawn to the crux of all matters concerning her mental health.
"There was actually one question in that book that I highlighted: When do you feel the most alive? When Lewis had me both times and I thought I was going to die, I kept thinking about life. There were times I truly didn't want to stay alive, but I held onto a glimmer of hope."
"What was that hope, Olivia?"
"I felt alive with Elliot. Whole, respected, loved. I thought maybe, if I just make it through this, maybe we'll be reunited someday. And now he's here and it's overwhelming."
"Felt alive. Past tense. Do you still feel the most alive with him now?"
She responds before letting the fear takeover. "Yes. Yes, I do. When I'm with him, I feel seen. Scarily so. He's the only one in my life that knew me. That can see through my exterior. I really want that again."
She thinks about all of the times she's been with Elliot since his return. The fights, the smiles, the sheer intensity behind his eyes, the banter, the handhold. Their friendship, steadfast and strong. She loves him. She's in love with him. While she isn't ready to admit this out loud to anyone, she's proud of herself for feeling the feelings and giving them their rightful name. Something she should have done long ago.
"You mentioned very strong emotions today. Abandonment, love, hope, life, friendship, trust."
She scoffs, "I guess that damn book got me after all."
Lindstrom offers a warm smile. "'Live-laugh-love' might sound silly and fantastical, Olivia, but that doesn't mean that you don't deserve it. It's a nice concept, isn't it?"
She thinks about living, laughing and loving with Elliot Stabler, and it doesn't sound silly at all.