December 7, 2015
On Monday Olivia took the day off.
It was her first vacation day since starting her job at the bank - the secretarial job that she loathed, with every piece of herself - and she planned to enjoy it. Or at least, to enjoy it as much as she could. Noah had an appointment with the pediatrician in the morning, but it was just a checkup, and they had the first appointment of the day, and she was quietly hopeful that the doctor's office would be running on time. Surely they would be, she thought; they wouldn't have had a chance to get behind. An hour or so at the doctor's, and then she had the whole day to do whatever she pleased. The park, maybe, if the day turned out warm. Noah would like the park. If it was too cold for that, though, she might go and visit with Lorraine; the woman was retired and had nothing better to do, and might enjoy a visit from Lindsey and Gabe. Olivia and Elliot had planned their investigation on Friday night, and there was no reason to wait; the sooner they found the truth the sooner they could put Paul away, and the sooner she'd get back to sleeping through the night. She'd not caught a glimpse of Paul in days, but that was hardly reassuring; not knowing where he was, what he was doing, what he was planning, was starting to drive her a little insane.
There were a few people gathered in the waiting room when Olivia and Noah arrived at the doctor's office, but she didn't look at them as she approached the check-in desk. It would've been impolite, really, to stare, and so she didn't; she carried her son on her hip, and spoke quietly to the receptionist, and did not turn to face the room until the nice lady behind the desk told her to go have a seat.
There were a few empty chairs right up close to the desk and she meant to sit herself down there; she turned around, took two steps towards the chairs, and then froze in her tracks, her mouth falling open in shock, in horror.
There, on the other side of the room, sat Kathy Stabler.
Kathy Stabler, with her leg still in a cast. Kathy Stabler, with her soft blonde hair, her delicate nose. Kathy Stabler, with her blue eyes wide open, staring straight at her. Kathy Stabler, with her son in the chair beside her.
Shit, Olivia thought faintly, rocking back on her heels with Noah in her arms. Shit. Shit. Shit.
What the fuck was she supposed to do now? If she bolted for the door she'd just cause a scene, and besides, Kathy had already seen her. The damage had already been done; Kathy was staring at her, face pale as if she'd just seen a ghost, her hands twisting together in her lap, hardly breathing, her gaze never wavering from Olivia's face. Kathy had seen her. Kathy knew the truth now, and there was no hiding from it.
In the end there was no choice, really. Face-to-face with the woman whose husband Olivia was fucking, the woman who had probably believed until this moment that Olivia was dead, the woman who was losing her marriage, her happy, stable home, for the sake of Olivia's reckless desires, there was only one thing Olivia could do.
She walked to Kathy's side with her son cradled on her hip.
"Kathy," she murmured softly as she drew near.
Kathy didn't stand, but Olivia didn't really expect her to, not with that cast. The way Elliot talked Olivia had kinda thought that Kathy was bedbound, and obviously that wasn't true; it seemed like she was getting around ok, though Olivia wasn't sure how Kathy had gotten herself and her son to the doctor's office. Maybe Elliot drove them, dropped them off here; maybe Elliot was outside parking the car, taking a call. Maybe he was about to walk through the doors and stumble across a crime scene of his own making.
"I thought you were dead," Kathy said in a quiet, unsteady voice, her gaze flickering wildly from Noah's face to Olivia's and back again.
"You can't tell anyone I'm not," Olivia murmured urgently. "Please, Kathy, it's really important."
"Does Elliot know you're here?"
He did. Of course he did. He'd been in Olivia's bed just a few nights ago. He'd texted her yesterday about their list of potential witnesses to interrogate. He knew she was alive, and he'd been lying to his wife about it for months.
What have we done? Olivia thought as she swayed on the spot. This was Kathy, for Christ's sake, Kathy sitting right in front of her, Kathy she'd wronged so profoundly. The mother of Elliot's children, the woman Olivia had held in her own arms the day Eli was born. Don't leave me, she heard Kathy's voice echoing in her mind, a thousand memories washing over her as she stood there, trembling.
Seeing Kathy just made it all so real. Not that it had ever been easy, opening her arms to Elliot, crossing the uncrossable line, knowing she was betraying Kathy just as Elliot was, but it was easier when she didn't have to see the woman, didn't have to speak to her. When she didn't have to see Eli's little face staring up at her in confusion.
I can't do this, she thought, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. She couldn't do this, couldn't be the woman who shattered a family, and damn Elliot, damn him, for making her think she could.
Olivia had not answered the question, but Kathy found all the answer she needed in Olivia's horror-stricken face. She nodded once, tightly, and looked away, her jaw tightening as she warred with herself. They both had their children with them, and the waiting room was full of witnesses, and Kathy's leg was still in that cast; she wouldn't risk a real confrontation, not here, not like this. Maybe she didn't want one, anyway; maybe it was Elliot she wanted to strike, to curse, to bear the brunt of all the anger she must have been feeling.
"You're Lindsey, aren't you?" Kathy asked her quietly.
What has he told her? Olivia wondered, her mind reeling, adrenaline coursing through her veins as her nervous system shrieked at her to flee. Had Elliot talked to Kathy about his work at all? He wasn't supposed to. Had he come up with some lie, sold Kathy some story about his new friend Lindsey? It didn't matter, she supposed; he'd told Kathy her name. It was too late to lie.
"Yes," she said softly.
"Of course you are," Kathy said. "It all makes sense, he -"
"Eli Stabler?" a voice rang out from behind them. The nurse, calling back the first patient of the day. Eli stood up at once, looking anxiously at his mother as Kathy hauled herself ponderously to her feet, reaching for the crutches Olivia hadn't noticed until now.
"You won't be here when we're done, will you?" Kathy asked. She sounded kinda sad about it.
"No."
No, Olivia had no intention of staying. Her cover had been blown, and she couldn't afford to linger. She needed to go home, and she needed to decide who to call first, Elliot or Jackie. It was all over, she thought; the dream she and Elliot had crafted for themselves had died right there in the waiting room.
"I won't tell anyone I saw you," Kathy said. "But I never want to see you again."
"You won't," Olivia promised. "Kathy, I-"
"We've got to go," Kathy said, and then she began to hobble away with her son beside her, left Olivia all alone with the world crumbling beneath her feet.
She drove home on autopilot, didn't even bother to stay for Noah's appointment. It was just a checkup; she could get a new pediatrician in whatever town the Marshals sent her to next.
If she let them relocate her.
The question ate her up as she drove; what was she going to do?
The best thing, the safest thing, the right thing, would be to call Jackie. Tell Jackie that Kathy had seen her, let Jackie organize a new life for her. Start over somewhere else. No Paul, no record of her run-in with the cops. A clean slate.
But starting over meant no Elliot, either.
If the Marshals moved her, there was no way in hell Jackie was gonna tell Elliot where Olivia had gone. Knowing that Olivia and Elliot had slept together, that Elliot's wife had seen Olivia - and likely knew of the infidelity already, if the heartbroken way Kathy looked at her was any indication - there was no way Jackie would let him near Olivia again. If Olivia told Jackie the truth it would be the end of them, forever. The nightmare scenarios they'd talked about, never seeing each other again, never knowing what had become of one another, it would all come to pass if Olivia called Jackie now.
But how could she not? She'd joined the program for Noah's sake, done it to keep him safe, and so far she'd done a pretty shit job of protecting him. She'd taken so many risks, and what had it brought her, in the end? The delirious joy of Elliot beside her once more, and the devastating agony their love left in its wake. No matter what he said, Elliot could not promise her the future she longed for, and he was going to destroy his family trying. Had already begun that destruction, for the sake of an affair that could not ever see the light of day.
You have to end it, she thought, Kathy's face dancing in front of her eyes. For Kathy's sake, for the sake of her children, Olivia had to do what Elliot was not strong enough to do.
A clean break, that's what they needed. She'd call Jackie, and let Jackie whisk her away, let Jackie break the news to Elliot after she'd gone. There was no point in talking to him herself, Olivia knew. If she heard his voice, begging her to stay, insisting that he could find a way for them, she might just believe him, and they would all be doomed for that belief. No, he'd been right the first time, four years ago; a clean break was for the best. This thing between them needed to end, before anyone else got hurt.
The street was deserted when Olivia pulled into her driveway, though Paul's truck was parked next door. He worked from home, she expected to see the truck there, but it unsettled her, just the same. In the broad light of day, there at the end of pretending, Olivia berated herself for ever opening her door to him, cursed herself for digging into the matter of his wife's death. Whether he'd done it or not, she wasn't a detective anymore, and she had put herself and her son in such terrible danger.
What was I thinking? She asked herself, glancing into the rearview mirror, watching Noah sleeping peacefully in his car seat. The mystery of Amy's death, the intoxicating promise of justice, the selfish need to feel useful had propelled her into this investigation, and now she couldn't believe how foolish she'd been. If Paul had killed his wife what was to stop him from killing the woman next door to keep his secret? She didn't have a gun, had nothing but her fists and a child's baseball bat to use for protection. It wasn't worth it, she thought; the thrill of the chase wasn't worth her son's life.
She took a few deep, steadying breaths, and then stepped out of the car. Opened the back door, and carefully pulled Noah out of his car seat, trying not to shake him too much, trying not to wake him.
There was no other choice. She'd call Jackie, she'd -
"Shouldn't you be at work?" a soft voice asked from just over her shoulder and she whirled around, her heart leaping into her throat as she found herself face-to-face with Paul.
Son of a bitch. This day just kept getting worse and worse; she stood on the cusp of losing everything, hating herself for what she'd done to Kathy, to Eli, for what she was about to do to Elliot, for putting Noah in danger, and now Paul was in front of her, blocking the path to her front door. There was no way, she thought, no way he knew that she and Elliot were investigating Amy's death; she was just Lindsey, poor, meek little Lindsey, the secretary, the victim, and no threat to him at all. Remember that, she told herself. You aren't a threat to him. Don't give him a reason to think you are.
"I had to take Gabe to the doctor," she said, hating the way her own voice shook. "And I need to get him inside -"
"What's the rush?" Paul asked, dropping his hand to rest against the car door, boxing her in.
"Don't you want to talk to me, Olivia?"
Jesus Christ.
There was a darkness in him then such as she had never seen before, malice written on every line of his face, and he spoke her name with a terrible, deadly knowing.
How Paul had learned her name, what he meant to do with it, she could not say. She was alone, with her son in her arms, and there was nowhere left to run.