It had been almost a week since Paris.

She still hadn't told Elliot about the anonymous texts and pictures. In fact, she had changed her mind entirely. She was far too pissed off to tell him. Her anger was also why she had just about completely ignored him for the entirety of the week.

She told Monique about the texts as soon as she had gotten home, to which they agreed it was best to wait until the stress of the jet report cooled off. That had been the plan for a solid day before the tables turned and something else had completely derailed her plan.

The night after she got home, it was so simple. She had let out a groan of irritation when she'd spotted the empty toilet paper roll on the holder. Leaning as far forward as she could, she'd opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink to grab an extra roll. As soon as she spotted the Tampax box, tunnel vision overcame her. She dropped the roll of toilet paper out of her hand, immediately counting days on her fingers. "Oh fuck no," she had whispered as her hands dropped down to her sides.

That was 6 days ago. She had replayed that moment far too many times in her head since then.

It was fair to say that she was pissed off at just about everyone around her. More so at Elliot, but undeservingly at anyone else. Even Monique, who was familiar with Olivia's anger-to-cope, was doing her best to stay out of her way. Until this morning, when she had woken up to Olivia dry-heaving over the kitchen sink.

"Liv," she mumbled from the kitchen island.

Olivia stuck her finger up at Monique. "Don't." she said, taking a glass of water and rinsing her mouth out.

"You have to tell him at some point. Or at least take a test." Monique protested.

Olivia swiped her purse off of the counter, charging for the door. "I'm gonna be late for work," she grumbled, slamming the door shut behind her.

This was not happening.

She liked being angry. It made her feel safe. Not a lot of things made her feel safe lately, especially after Paris, but more so after Santorini. At least with anger, there wasn't a lot of room for other emotions. With sadness came hurt or depression or even confusion. Not with anger. It was a straight shot arrow into one thing she could focus on.

Anyone who got in her way was added to the list of people she was mad at, even if it was besides the point. She'd remain pissed off at Monique too now, at least until all of the other anger was gone. Even though Monique did have a point.

She had spent nearly a week living in her anger because, quite frankly, that was all she had left to give. A week with hardly more than two words said to Elliot and there was no intention of changing that. She was too angry to miss him. Somewhere deep inside, that thought hurt her like a knife in the stomach.

The elevator dinged and opened the doors into the central area of her floor. She tried to sip her coffee to mask the flooding smell of everyone's perfume mixing together. It helped about as much as she expected, which was not at all.

Instead, she focused on the sound of her heels clicking on the granite floors. If she could just get to her desk, everything would be fine. It would be quieter and certainly have less of an overwhelming scent of Chanel No 5.

Instead, she felt a steady hand just barely grab the back of her arm. When she looked up, she saw Elliot walking elbow-to-elbow with her as he guided them off to a corridor with nobody inside. She wanted to swat his hand away and ask him what the hell he was doing, but she knew.

"Look," he started with a whisper. "You're pissed at me, right? I picked up on that. Maybe it's because I've hardly seen you in six days or because you've said about three whole sentences to me since we got back. But I can't figure out why you're mad at me."

Olivia didn't respond, rather choosing to annoyingly stare at him.

"Is it because of what happened in Paris? Or is it what happened at the airport when we got home? I've been replaying the entire time in my head, trying to pinpoint exactly what I did to make you so angry, and I'm willing to accept that I must've done something. But I don't know how to fix it until I know what it is that I did."

With a sigh, she stared down at the floor. Her muteness remained unbroken.

"Liv," he protested. "Please. Please explain what I did wrong! I'm going crazy here. I'm working on trying to get some information back from the FAA and the ICAO if that's what this is about. And the press got nothing from my exit from JFK so nothing has been printed,"

She cut him off with a growl of an exhale. He was so clueless, it was painful and kind of pathetic to watch him flounder. She stepped forward, staring angrily right into his eyes. "I missed my period." she hissed in his ear, pulling away to stare at him with a deathly glare. He watched, slack-jawed like a deer in headlights as she trudged away from him.

By the next day, he had taken just about every opportunity he could to get more information out of her. Yet, she was a brick wall. She also knew his schedule down to the letter which made for a much easier way to avoid him.

Of course, he had tried texting her, emailing her, or even just asking her in an unavoidable shared presence if she had taken a test. Most of her answers were just her ignoring him, some of them were more glares. He was reaching the point of his own anger with her for not telling him anything. In his mind, they could get through this a lot easier if they did it together, but it was as if that thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

Eventually, he had gathered that she had not taken a test. And to quote the woman herself, "No, and I'm not taking one either." But that was about it until she had stormed off yet again.

He knew that the stress on his plate was currently on hers as well, with the jet incident and now this. However, this was only adding more fuel to the fire that was his current life. He didn't need to know much, but if he knew the answer to whether she was pregnant or not, a lot of the extra stress would likely dissipate. It was the blockage of knowing that made it worse. At least if he knew then they could make a plan and figure it all out.

The brown paper bag dropped down on her desk. Her eyes slowly traveled up the arm of who had set it there. Her eyes met his, still delivering her own version of his blazing glare. She glanced down, clearly able to see the pregnancy test shaped box in the bag's contents.

"Take it."

She continued to glare at him, staying silent for a moment before returning to her computer screen. "I'm working." she hissed, dropping her eyes back down to the work on her desk.

"And I'm your boss. Take it." he deadpanned.

"No, you don't get to do that right now, Elliot. You don't get to switch into boss mode and tell me what to do." she started to rise from her chair, whispering in a lethal tone. "Especially when it comes to my body."

She stood up, swiping the bag into her grip and ducking her head down as she charged into his office. As he followed behind her, she began shutting all of the blinds in his office windows. "You do not get to boss me around when it comes to personal matters," she scolded as soon as she heard him shut the door. "It's fun in the bedroom and usually you know when to keep it in the boardroom but you are not going to hand me a pregnancy test with the same attitude you use while you sign my paychecks!"

"You're right," he reached out his hands, trying to gently guide her away from where she was standing. "You're right and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

She wasn't sure if the gentleness in his tone made it better or worse.

She crossed her arms angrily, refusing to allow any of her fury crack and show the fear underneath. He was leaning back against one of the guest chairs in front of his desk, steadying himself with an out kicked leg. "I don't understand how this could've happened."

Olivia gave him a bewildered look. "Last month? I was changing my birth control and I told you that. I also told you that you needed to buy new condoms. A few days later when we were getting all hot and bothered, do you recall what you said?"

Elliot hung his head in shame. "I think I said that the ones in my drawer weren't that expired."

In the most belittling attitude she could conjure up, she smirked and stepped closer to him. "And then what happened?"

"It broke," he mumbled.

"It broke!" she laughed incredulously. "So don't you dare sit there and try to tell me how to handle this or what to do. Because yes, I am pissed off. Pissed off at you, even more pissed off at myself. I am so unbelievably angry right now that I can hardly see straight. I will deal with this however and whenever I want to."

He pushed himself back up, steadying on his two feet. "But... Liv," he sighed, wearing the same guilty face he always wore when he was about to say something he shouldn't. She knew what was coming next, his voice would drop several decibels as he carefully treaded on his words. "Would this really be a bad thing? I mean, you and I love each other. Would having a baby really be that horrible for us?"

Ever so the dreamer. He was probably picking out nursery colors in his head right now.

"I feel like I've taken crazy pills!" she just about shouted. "Elliot, are you forgetting that less than a week ago somebody tried to kill us? In an airplane about to fly over the ocean? Or that the fucking CFO of this company has made it his life's mission to ruin my reputation? Or that creepy mole of a security guard in Santorini who has pictures of us having sex? You think adding a baby into that situation is gonna make it all better?"

"Okay, you have a point," he nodded.

He barely finished his sentence before she started up again. "I'm not ready to be a mom, Elliot!" she protested, a redness creeping up her neck and into her cheeks as panic replaced anger. He wasn't going to interrupt her, he could tell that this was pent up and desperately needed to be expelled. "I'm not! I'm sorry, I'm just not. I'm not ready to be a mom or a step-mom. Hell, I haven't even met your daughter yet! I can't do this! I can't... I can't give everything up! Not yet, not now! I can't be the stay at home Stepford wife and mother!"

"You're right, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I said," he tried to walk towards her, but she backed up with her arms in the air. There wasn't a trace of anger left on her face, it was bona fide panic.

"No matter what that test says, which I'm not taking by the way, I'm not ready." she sniffled, refusing to look him in the eyes.

"Okay," he agreed, nodding vehemently as he just wanted her to calm down. "I understand,"

"I have to go," she started to sob into her hand with widened eyes. "I'm sorry, I just — I gotta go. I can't do this."

He didn't try to stop her as she rushed out of his office.

The next day, he planned a detour before going into work.

"Mr... Stabler —" Monique spoke cautiously as she opened the door to her apartment. Standing in front of her was the man himself, looking both hopeful and humbled. "Uh, Liv isn't here. She's at work."

"No, I know," he nodded. "I actually came here to talk to you."

"Oh," Monique muttered, still somewhat shocked at the sight of him.

"Mind if I come in?" he smiled after an awkward pause between the two of them.

"Oh right!" Monique stepped away from the door, opening it further for him to enter. "Sorry about that. It's just strange seeing you in normal-people clothes rather than the menacing Armani suit."

He laughed as he walked in. "Normal-people clothes?"

She rushed off towards the open kitchen, promptly opening the refrigerator door. "Yeah, you know. The henley and the jeans? Not something I expected to see."

Elliot took a look around the apartment, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had been here before, but not often, and usually not in daylight. It was a cute place that very much fit his idea of who Olivia was in her own territory. He admired the photos on the wall of the two best friends and how happy they looked.

His attention broke when he heard the fridge door shut. He turned around to see Monique putting two water bottles on the island counter. "So, how can I help you?"

Elliot pulled up a barstool at the island, taking a seat in front of Monique. "I'm here about Olivia."

"I figured."

"I'm worried about her," Elliot spoke cautiously, gauging Monique's reaction.

Monique wasn't a great liar. She never had been. Not unless her life depended on it. In that case, she was subpar at best. However, that never stopped her from trying her best. She knew it was always her job to cover for her best friend, but it wasn't a job she was well-suited for.

"Um, why?" she asked, shrugging a little too hard.

Elliot saw right through it immediately. "I know you know what I'm talking about."

"Liv doesn't tell me everything, y'know." she protested. "Just like she doesn't tell you everything."

Elliot cocked his head with doubt in his narrowed eyes. "Mm I'm not so sure about that."

Monique looked down with a cocky grin as she started to uncap her own water bottle. "Well, you'd be surprised how many things Olivia doesn't tell you,"

Elliot smirked with a short laugh as he leaned forward. "Oh would I?" he kept giggling. "Like how you two slept together at least four times before you met Alex?"

Every part of Monique froze except for her widened eyes. "I'm gonna kill her," she whispered.

"Look, I know about the missed period!" Elliot quickly changed the topic, throwing his hands up in the air. "I thought maybe she was just acting weird after what happened in Paris. Then a week goes by and she's still acting strange. Then she drops the bomb on me that she might be pregnant and won't take a test!"

She let out a deep sigh. "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to help me convince her to take it."

Monique laughed sardonically as she set the bottle back down. She leaned forward, crossing her arms. "Okay, look. There is something about Olivia that you need to get through that bald head of yours, and it is that she does not do anything unless it's on her own time. She is the most stubborn person on the planet in case you haven't noticed. And if she's not ready to do something, she isn't gonna do it. I'm sorry to say that there is no changing that. Trust me, I've tried."

Elliot rubbed his palms over his face in defeat. "What if... what if by the time she's ready, it'll be too late. Y'know... to make the decision that she wants to make."

"You think she hasn't already thought of that?" Monique asked. "You think that thought hasn't crossed her mind about 16,000 times today alone? That's part of the problem. She knows the clock is ticking and she knows that she's gonna have to face reality sooner rather than later. That's what stresses her out more than anything. But if there is one thing I know about Olivia, it's that her timing is usually impeccable. Right before it's too late, she'll have it all figured out. You should know that by now given how long you've been working with her."

The more he thought about it, the more he realized she was right. "So what do I do?"

"Allow her the time that she needs." she answered. "Be there for her when she needs you to be and allow her the space she needs when she needs it. She'll get through it, you both will."

Elliot nodded, slowly turning his head to look back around the room. "By the way, the place looks great. You'd never have known a pipe had burst in here."

Monique's brows furrowed in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You know, Liv said you texted her while we were in Paris to tell her a pipe had burst in the apartment." Elliot said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh... right," she breathed, slowly nodding. She hoped that Elliot couldn't read the deception on her face, but again, she was never a good liar. And what she was lying about? She couldn't even imagine. But whatever it was, it was still her job to cover for Olivia.

Elliot hadn't come into work and she didn't know why. She didn't really want to think about it either. Instead, she was holed up in the design studio. Ever since the successful launch of Red Light, the space had become much more dedicated to its project. Posters hung on the wall from the ad campaigns and the project designers were seemingly more dedicated. Not that they hadn't been before, but now they saw their work come to fruition and saw the difference they were making.

"Morning, Liv." she heard a voice coming from in front of her desk. Freddie Washburn, one of the original guys on the project. Always nice and full of creative ideas and still nerdy as the day she met him. He always gave off the very distinct vibe of someone who either took too much adderall or not enough. She could see that he held out a coffee for her with a charming smile. "Lake got everyone Starbucks this morning, so this is for you."

She smiled for the first time in a week as she took the coffee from him. "Thanks, Washburn."

"So," he pulled up a chair from a nearby drafting table, sitting in it backwards. "A college edition, huh? We really doing this?" he asked, sipping his own coffee.

She glanced down at the tactical drawings she had been working on for the new version of the app. Red Light U. Drowning herself in work had always calmed her down, and with the last few days, she needed all of the calm she could get. "I think we are," she nodded. "I still have to pitch it to the board, but I have it on good authority that we'll be given the green light to continue."

"That's awesome!" he grinned like a dopey puppy. "I'm really excited to go forward with this."

"I'm glad to hear that," she nodded, giving her best fake smile. The coffee was nice but she didn't have the energy to keep the façade of true happiness up for too much longer.

"I don't think you understand how good at this you are!" he gushed, a little too loudly. "Seriously, I'm still rooting for you to transfer down here full time and oversee a lot more."

She chuckled softly to herself. "You've said that to me before,"

Her mind went back to the time after Santorini when Elliot was gone. Freddie had told her exactly that. That she should give up the assistant job and give her full dedication to the project. At the time, she had even considered it.

Oh, how things had come full circle.

"Well, think about it." he said, getting up from the backwards chair and putting it back where it belonged. "Think of how far you could take this thing if you did."

She watched him as he walked away, feeling the seeds of doubt that he had planted in her. Well, maybe not 'doubt' exactly. More like hope that felt false? She knew that transferring would throw a wrench into everything. She'd never see Elliot and she'd be much less likely to get her rank of CFO if she was too settled into the position of heading the production of Red Light.

She stared back down at the pages in front of her, the UI plan for the Red Light U app. Something fresh and different, something she could throw herself into without being forced to think about anything else.

As much as she didn't want to think about it, Elliot's face from the moment she told him about Red Light U had popped into her head. He looked so happy, so proud of her. It started to hurt underneath all of her anger. It always did eventually. That was usually when she knew that it was time to let go of the anger.

But it wasn't that easy. If she let go now, that meant getting answers. She didn't want answers yet. She wanted blissful ignorance, but it hadn't been all that blissful.

Even though she didn't want to admit it, she was beginning to miss Elliot. She hadn't actually stopped missing him, but now she was starting to feel it.

She didn't want to be so angry anymore.

The following evening, she found herself walking the usual route through the SE building that led to the penthouse. A gray plastic bag swung from her hand with each step, because if she was going to do this, she wouldn't be doing it alone. She wore the most comfortable leggings she could find and an oversized sweater that she'd likely be crying into the sleeves of by the end of the night.

When she reached his door, she pulled her keys out of her bag, flipping through them to find the one that matched his lock. As far as she knew, he was unaware that she was coming. Maybe it was because if there had been any more pressure on the idea of doing this, she would crack. And if he knew, that was more than the amount of pressure she could handle.

She fumbled with the key, finally getting the door to unlock when she stepped inside. As soon as she shut the door behind her, her stomach growled from the scent of cooking food.

"Hey El?" she called out. "Are you home? I uh, I wanted to — oh." she paused at the sight of a smaller figure running towards her. Blonde curls bounced as the young girl sprinted towards her, stopping a few feet away.

"Hi, I'm Kathleen," the girl said proudly.

Olivia looked behind her, spotting Elliot at the far end of the apartment in the kitchen. He was wearing a soft smile with the same hopeful blue eyes that were in front of her right now. Olivia slowly knelt over, matching the girl's height. "Hi Kathleen, my name's Olivia." she extended her hand with a kind smile. She could hear her own voice go soft. "It's nice to meet you."

Kathleen shook her hand and smiled with pearly white teeth. "It's nice to meet you too." She was the spitting image of her father with her mother's blonde locks. Olivia immediately spotted the seashell necklace on Kathleen's neck, recognizing it as the one she had made with the shell from Santorini.

She remembered writing the letter to go with it.

To: Kathleen
From: Dad

'If you hold the shell to your ear, you can hear the ocean. Now, you can take the ocean wherever you go.'

"That's a very beautiful necklace," Olivia whispered breathlessly, unable to suppress her smile.

Small fingers with baby pink nail polish came up to grip the seashell. "Thanks. My daddy made it for me. The shell is from Greece. If you hold it up to your ear, you can hear the ocean."

Olivia glanced behind Kathleen to see that Elliot's grin had grown. She wanted to break down and cry just from the sight of so much love in his eyes. Olivia reached out and ran her fingers over the shell. "So you can take the ocean wherever you go."

"Exactly!" Kathleen beamed with joy.

Elliot had stepped out from the kitchen, slowly approaching the two of them. "Hey uh, you ready for dinner, sweet pea?" he ran his fingers tenderly through her long blonde hair.

Kathleen nodded vehemently. "Daddy, can Olivia stay for dinner?"

Elliot looked over at Olivia, his mouth hanging slightly open as he was ready to make an excuse on her behalf. "Only if Olivia would like to stay for dinner."

Her eyes darted between Elliot's and his daughters, spotting the identical hope once more. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"You're never intruding," Elliot said a little too quickly. He shot a glance back down at his daughter. "Hey, Kathleen honey, how about you go set the table, okay?"

She ran off with excitement into a more secluded part of the home. Olivia stared at Elliot with a lot of love and still some sorrow; her eyes conveying the apology that she couldn't put into words. She haphazardly lifted the arm that held the pharmacy bag, wordlessly alerting him of why she had shown up.

Elliot smiled gently, stepping a couple paces closer to her before wrapping her up in a tight hug. When he pulled away, he took the bag from her and set it on the coffee table. His hands reached out, softly wrapping around her elbows. "Come have dinner with us? Please?"

Biting her lower lip, Olivia nodded gingerly. When he let go of her arms, he extended an open hand for her to take as they started walking towards the dining room table. Before they had even entered the room, they could hear Kathleen beginning to talk.

"Olivia, do you like spaghetti? Dad made spaghetti, and he's actually really good at making spaghetti. A lot better than he is at making turkey. He made turkey one time and it burned on the outside and was raw on the inside so we got burgers instead. But he does make really good spaghetti."

Olivia and Elliot both couldn't help but to laugh.

A few hours later, Kathleen was tucked into bed for the night. They had enjoyed dinner together, talking all about Kathleen's school activities and how much she wanted to be a Marine Biologist when she grew up. She asked Olivia all about her favorite colors and books, absolutely overjoyed when the answer was Anne of Green Gables because that's what Elliot always read to Kathleen. There was a lively debate about which Harry Potter movie was the best because Elliot had said that it was Prisoner of Azkaban while Kathleen and Olivia agreed that it was definitely Goblet of Fire.

Olivia had smiled when Freddie brought her coffee in the design suite, but not nearly the same smiles that came with sharing dinner. Kathleen was the best parts of her father, bubbly and funny with an absolutely unmatched wit. Olivia didn't have to fake an uncomfortable laugh as she did around most kids, instead she genuinely enjoyed the company.

After dinner, Kathleen had absolutely mopped the floor with Olivia and her father during several rounds of Uno. Olivia had promised to bring Monopoly next time, which they both knew Elliot would win given that he knew business better than anyone.

For once, it was actually the most peaceful night she'd had in a while. Sure, she found peace in a bottle of wine on the couch with Monique, but this was different. In some way, Kathleen's optimism and joy made her feel like a kid again. Without all of the heartache.

But when the sun had set, the night had shifted. Both she and Elliot sat on the bathroom floor while they waited for the pregnancy test to develop. She started to wonder how many nights they would end up spending on the bathroom floor. Last time it was the night of the gala when everything went to hell.

For a while, their silence was peaceful. Even sitting two feet away from him, he held her hand while they waited.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you," she whispered, staring down at the marble flooring.

"It's okay," he nodded.

"No it isn't," she replied. "I'm not... I'm not good with feelings sometimes. Especially the scary ones. But that doesn't mean I should take it out on you."

"We all work through things in our own ways. Sometimes it's avoidance. I'm just as guilty of that, Liv. Remember Westchester?"

It didn't make her feel a whole lot better, but his empathy on its own always would. "I'm gonna work on it, okay?" she spoke quietly, finally looking in his direction. "I promise, I'm gonna work on not being so angry when I'm scared."

She thought back to what he had said in his office, about them having a family and how it wouldn't be so bad. She still wasn't ready, and that was okay. But he wasn't wrong. It wouldn't be so bad. But just not for a while. Someday maybe.

"I uh... I talked to my doctor today." she interrupted the silence that had come back.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "She said there's a chance that I missed my period because of changing birth control. And stress on top of that. She asked me if I worked a stressful job and I said yes," she chuckled.

Thinking back to the past few days, he was inclined to agree. He started to laugh with her. "Yeah, 'stressful' definitely fits the bill."

After their mutual laughter died down, she sighed. "But we're gonna be okay though, right? No matter what happens?"

He squeezed her hand. "Of course we are. I'm right by your side no matter what."

Before tears could well up in her eyes, the timer on her phone alerted them both. They both froze, neither of them sure of what to do next.

"Should uh... should we look at it together?" he asked.

"Yes, please." she replied in the smallest voice.

She moved closer to him on the floor, her hip pressing into his. He reached behind the both of them and grabbed the test from the counter, covering up the results with his hands. "Like we said. No matter what, it'll be okay." he reaffirmed. Olivia nodded, feeling the anxiety rip her stomach apart.

He lifted his hand away from the screen of the test.

A horrid beat of silence passed between both of them.

"Oh thank you, Jesus!" Olivia said a little too loudly with a deep exhale that she had been holding all week. Her body slumped against his, reveling in the relief of seeing the test come up negative.

Despite what he may have wanted for the future, Elliot was just as relieved. She had been right, it wasn't time yet. They had far too many demons to deal with before it ever even became a topic of discussion. Not to mention that Olivia's relief added to his own.

He tossed the test aside, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her in tight. She allowed herself to enjoy the scent of him without a wall of anger dividing them. The sound of his heart beating in her ear became a hell of a lot more welcomed than it had the days before.

Only, her bliss was interrupted not long after.

"Liv, I have to come clean about something."

She pulled back, running her hand over his shirt to straighten it out. "Okay, what is it?"

His frown was soft and sad. "I know about the pictures."

For a moment, she had forgotten all about that. All of the guilt she had felt had been taken over by the anger of thinking she was pregnant. "What? How?"

"Because... I got them too." he admitted hesitantly.

She wasn't exactly sure if this was meant to assuage her guilt over not telling him. She scootched away from him on the floor so she could see him better. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I think I got them right before you did. It was at the photoshoot in Paris. You looked so radiant and happy, I just didn't have the heart to tell you. I was gonna tell you once we got back in the city but obviously that took a bit of a turn for the worst."

She wasn't angry, she didn't really have the right to be since she had kept it a secret too. "How did you know I got them?"

"Well, when I talked to Monique and she had no clue about any burst pipe in your apartment," As the words left Elliot's lips, Olivia looked down in shame. "I kinda put two and two together. You started acting strange and so I figured that was when it happened."

Her eyes were filled with sadness. "I should've told you," she said. "I was gonna tell you when we landed, but like you said... it didn't exactly go according to plan."

"I'm glad you didn't tell me in Vienna because if I had known, hell, I don't know what I would've done. I was already so freaked out about the jet and I just wanted to hold it together for you and —"

She cut him off by leaning forward and kissing him. "I'm so sorry," she whispered when she pulled away. She pressed her forehead against his, holding his face in her palms.

He guided her to straddle his lap, keeping the close contact of her face touching his. "I am too, Liv. For all of this."

They both fucked up. Their relationship had always been bound to be bumpy. But they were trying to learn; to navigate through the turmoil. They had a lot of learning left to do.

"I love you, El."

"I love you, Liv."