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It started with a box tucked away into the back of his closet that she was left to clean out because for some reason none of his kids could bear to touch his belongings since he’d passed. She pulls it forward and brushes the thick layer of cobwebs and dust from the top; on the top in big bold cursive letters is her name:
For: Liv.
She swallows harshly as a fresh layer of tears threatens to spill down her cheeks. God why did grief have to be so hard? It wasn’t going to be easy by any means and she knew that but this? This feeling? It was unmatched and she wouldn’t wish it upon her worst enemy. Olivia walks over to his bed and sits toward the edge, she places the thick mahogany box onto her lap and flips the latch. Pulling the top up her breath catches in her throat; inside are a bunch of things, things she hadn’t seen in years, maybe even decades. The first layer is of trinkets, some new, some old, things like papers, clips, an old tube of her very first lipstick, little notes they’d written each other, her special order he always got her from the deli closest to his house in Queens. Tears form and this time she can’t stop them from cascading down her cheeks.
Olivia plucks one of their notes from the top of the pile and upon further examination she determines the paper is too fresh to be an older note although there are plenty of decade old notes stored away. She unfolds it and for what feels like the millionth time tonight she gasps because written on that little piece of paper is something she’ll never forget, something she doesn’t want to forget for as long as god leaves her on this planet.
Liv,
It’s May 22nd 2023. I handed you a compass as a belated Christmas present when in reality it was a just because present, just because I’m in love with you. It’s supposed to lead you to happiness and god I need it to lead you to me..I put an E on it and it doesn’t stand for East like you’d assume. It stands for equanimity and mainly Elliot. I’m selfish and self absorbed I know..but I want you to wear my name around your neck even if you don’t know it.
I hope you wear it..god please let her wear it.
Yours Truly,
Elliot ‘El’
Olivia’s hand comes up to her mouth as she sobs; it’s heart wrenching and broken and she couldn’t help the way she sounds right now even if she tried. Her stomach and her heart hurt and to top it off her mascara is running down the apples of her cheeks. She feels pathetic because she is grieving for a man who was never hers—not of his own fault, but of hers because she’d kept him at arm's length for so long. Olivia heaves dryly for a few more moments and then delicately places the note to the side of her so she remembers to return it to its rightful home later.
She plucks another note this time the paper is yellowed and there’s a coffee stain on the edge that has turned camel brown. That is how she knows this is one of their notes to one another. She unfolds it and when she reads the words scrawled across the little note she almost drops it.
Olivia,
April 26th,2006
Today you left for Oregon..why didn’t you tell me? Was I not worth it? Did you not value us enough to tell me, your partner, that you were leaving? I called because surely it wasn’t true, you wouldn’t leave me without a word. Your line was disconnected. I played it three embarrassing times at the precinct and then again another dozen when I got home, why? Why did you leave..was it me? I'm sorry..Olivia I’m sorry it wasn’t your fault. Gitano wasn’t your fault okay? It was mine. I realized I was in love with you that day. That’s why I didn’t run after him..I thought you were going to die and I couldn’t have that, Liv.
I’m sorry..please come back. Don’t replace me, please? God..please don’t replace me. I’m right here, I’ll be here until you’re ready.
Love,
El <3
A heart is scrawled next to his name and that’s all she can focus on in conjunction with the words toward the end of his note, ‘I realized I was in love with you that day.”
“W-Why didn’t you tell me..” Olivia says to nobody in particular, or at least nobody that she cares to have heard her. “I was ready..I was ready then Elliot..” she runs a thumb over the paper, brings it up to her lips and places a kiss on it.
That note joins the other one on her left side and she reaches into the box once more, fishing through small notes until she finds one that she wants to read. She promises herself it’ll be the last one she reads for now because she wants to open the larger pieces of paper and she wants to get to the letter stuffed at the bottom. Olivia plucks one out with nimble fingers and a shaky grasp; the paper is pristine and white but she can tell by the crease that it’s old, it’s been folded far too many times to be new.
Liv,
Today is June 19th, 2006.
I found out Kathy was pregnant with our fifth child moments ago, I’m so stupid. Why did I crawl back to her? Why did I kiss Dani instead of running to you..why did I get into Kathy’s bed when I longed to run to you? It should have been us that night after the Royce case but I was so fucked up. I couldn’t think straight and all I knew was she would welcome me with open arms, but then again you’d have done the same right? It could have been us Olivia..a baby with Brunette locks, blue eyes, olive skin..freckles. Everything I love about you..god I’m an idiot. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It ends there and she flips it over scanning the back for the rest of the note.
I’ll tell you sometime soon..you deserve to know. I’ll tell you and I can almost see your wrecked expression in my head and that alone makes me not want to. I’m sorry Liv..it should have been us.
Forever yours,
El <3
Olivia heaves, clutching the letter to her chest. She sobs for what feels like an eternity until her chest is tight and her heart heavy. She can’t cry anymore, god please don’t make her cry anymore. Dabbing her eyes she places the letter next to her in the growing stack and pulls out the rest so she can reach the next few items. Olivia notices a theme right off the bat. It’s literature in some form or another. Every item in this box contains some sort of literature and in the back of her mind she thinks it’s so uniquely Elliot; bad with verbalizing his feelings but amazing at expressing them through text, or writing.
She plucks a long colorful piece of paper out; it appears to be handmade; the paper is doused in beautiful watercolors. Red that fades into pink, pink that fades to orange, and orange that fades to yellow; a sunset. She thinks for a moment maybe Bernie had helped him but then she sees his messy but perfect script scrawled across the front in golden paint.
“And the Sun loved the Moon so much he died to let her breathe.
But the moon and the sun loved each other so much, they were by each other's side every day. This confused the people greatly, for no one could tell whether it was day or night.
To correct this, the gods separated them, cursing them to chase each other in the sky forever, always apart.
But their love was strong, stronger than the gods. The sun would meet the moon at night, and cover her from the gods’ wrath. And the Moon would meet the Sun during the day, and would make him hide behind her, protecting him from the gods' rage.”
On the edges of the paper there are matching photos hand drawn of both the moon and sun together, and separate. Olivia sniffles as she reads the age old story over and over again until every word is memorized, forever immortal behind her eyelids. She realizes for the first time that night she may not be able to make it through this box, she may not be able to read what’s at the bottom of it because with every single item she plucks her chest gets impossibly tighter. Once more she sighs and places the artwork down next to her in a new and completely separate pile.
“Why me..why couldn’t one of the kids do this.” Olivia mumbles into the air as she dives back into the box. She plucks two things this time, praying that if she doubles what she looks at it’ll lessen the pain that is radiating through her core right now. She unfolds the charcoal dusted paper first and her eyes immediately fall to what’s drawn; a photo of her from either early 2004 or late 2005 she can’t tell because her hair had remained in that awkward phase right between short and medium for quite some time. It’s drawn in complete charcoal with just the tiniest bit of color, the color is dotted along the paper in what she assumes to be his favorite parts of her because her eyes have color, her freckles have color, her hair has color, and then the shirt she’d apparently been wearing that day had color.
She doesn’t understand..she doesn’t understand why he’d taken the time to sketch her with such impeccable detail, why he had taken the time to make sure the drawing was preserved all these years instead of throwing it out when he left all those years ago. Its ridiculous really surely he couldn’t have valued her that much that he’d spent his time drawing her..or maybe he did? They had a tumultuous departure and at best an unhealthy attachment to each other at that point in time so why? Her fingers trace over the fine lines and the reminisce of whatever brand he’d used coats her fingertips, she pulls away and flips the paper over only to be greeted with his signature which she’d surprisingly never seen until today.
It’s simple but something about it feels unique like he made it just for her.
E.Stabler
There is a large heart hanging off the edge of the ‘R’ at the end of Stabler; it comes down to curve and cup the letters toward the end and she swears it’s the most delicate thing she has ever seen. Olivia finds herself smiling for the first time in quite a while since his death as she attempts to commit the picture and one of what she assumes to be his final signatures to memory.
“Why’d you do this..why did you leave me these things? Why aren’t you here to tell me, explain it to me. I don’t understand Elliot..” She whimpers solemnly and tucks the photo to the side.
The final note she’s picked up gets hastily unfolded; she doesn’t care anymore she needs to know; craves the knowledge of what’s tucked away in this little piece of paper. So she braces herself for whatever it reads for the umpteenth time that night.
Liv,
It’s April 7th, 2004 as I’m writing you this note, you’ve just gotten called in for a case and I can tell you were on a date prior because your hair and make up are done and fuck I’m jealous. I’m a jealous bastard and I have no right to be. If you knew I was fuming you didn’t say anything, just copped back with a sly joke that I wasn’t paying attention to because my attention was solely focused on your unwavering beauty.
It’s fucked up really. I shouldn’t be thinking of you this way, Liv. I shouldn’t be jealous because some man had taken you out and could have possibly stayed the night if things went well. I have a wife, kids, four beautiful kids that I love more than anything..and a wife who I devoted my love to until death do us part. But Olivia..everything changed once you came into my life. I don’t understand, it’s confusing and scary because I know I could mess my marriage up, and I'd be fine with that if it meant you were mine.
Would you be mine if I bit the bullet? If I kissed you tonight would you have pushed me away or invited me back to your apartment? It’s probably the lesser right? You’ve always fought for my marriage, you respect Kathy even though she is cold and unforgiving toward you..what am I saying? What have you done to me, Olivia Margret Benson, what have you done to me?
The note is much longer than the rest and she notices immediately it’s gone without a signature, almost as if he hadn’t been finished or maybe he’d been pulled away from the task? She doesn’t know and she doesn’t care because it’s so uniquely him; messy, uncoordinated and unpredictable, never falling into the norms despite being a good and honest Catholic man.
Olivia’s tired, she’s tired and she is drained and it hurts her to keep going but the thought of not looking through every single piece of memorabilia that Elliot had so obviously taken time to pack away makes her heart ache. She cannot do that to him and will not do that to him so she powers on, scooping and gently placing the least important items in a pile to the side. Olivia wants to get to the main event, the letter that’s been taunting her since she picked up on it’s presence.
It’s now or never so she takes a shaky breath in and exhales in short huffs; her lungs are no longer burning but an uncomfortable ache is settled within the pit of her stomach. She can’t help but go back to her early thought of ‘Why me, Why did you love me?’ And it’s cruel to think that way, it is and she knows it but she can’t help it. She wishes she wasn’t the ‘One True Love of his life’ as Richard Wheatley had put it, Olivia wishes she was just another mark on his long list of women he’d ’dotted’ she wishes she was in Angela’s category, she wishes she was in Dani’s category, for the love of god she prays and longs to be in Kathy’s category. But she isn’t..she isn’t and she doesn’t know how to process that because for 25 years Elliot Joseph Stabler had been in love with her and now she has nothing left of him but a compass and a box of his deepest held secrets; letters, drawings, poems that reminded him of her, a necklace worth both of their paycheck combined, and a letter that she’s struggling to tear open even if both of her fingers have already breached the flap.
She closes her eyes and the sickening tear of paper rings out.
‘Do it! I can do it..I want to do it. I need to know what he said to me.’
The front reads her name and she can tell he tried his hardest to be neat with his penmanship; he thought of her, he knew a day would come where she had to read this letter and that alone makes her chest burn. How can one person write such a letter with the intent of it having to be given to another one day? She couldn’t do it, she definitely couldn’t then again Elliot was stronger than her in some ways. Her palms are moist as she unfolds the plain white paper and she braces herself to read what’s lying before her.
Olivia,
If you’re reading this then it’s safe to say I’ve died in the line of duty. I don’t know where to begin so I’m not going to pretend I have some path that I want this letter to follow. It’s from my heart and solely my heart.
I’ll start by apologizing. I’m sorry..I’m sorry Liv. I always told you I would make it back to you, to the kids, to Kathy (if we’re still married) and I failed. I failed to come home safe and if it happened on your watch please do not blame yourself. I’m stupid and reckless and I get myself into trouble more often than not. You’ve told me on more than one occasion to be more careful, four years ago you sat in a cold plastic chair outside of Rebeca’s room and asked me a simple question one that was too complicated at the time but if given the chance I’d answer you now; “What about me”?
I’m writing this and I can hear the tremble of your voice and, Liv, it's gutting me. You have to understand I was always thinking of you. I said at the time that nothing like what’d happened during that case could ever happen again and it’s true. I never want to see you so weak, so torn between a decision of my safety or a kids well being. The tears in your eyes and your finger trembling around the trigger is something that will haunt me for years to come possibly for the rest of my days. You mean and meant everything to me then and now..I don’t know what’s happened, I don’t know how I died; was it by natural causes? Or was it a case gone wrong? Did you have to make the decision you were faced with all those years ago finally?
I hope to god you didn’t. But I guess only you’ll know the answer to my questions.
Olivia’s eyes are blurry and she has to stop abruptly to wipe the tears from her eyes. She can’t do this, fucking hell she can’t do this. Whatever she’s done in her past life to deserve such a letter she regrets, she really does because nobody, nobody..should ever have to receive a letter like this one. Liv places the paper down in her lap and then picks it back up, her eyes dart around the room before finally landing on the letter clutched between her fingers once more.
“C’mon Liv..you can do it” She hears the echo of Elliot’s comforting voice as she’s about to give up. He didn’t write this for nothing and he’d want her to finish reading even if it hurts.
My only wish is that if this letter has fallen into your hands somehow, I died by your side. I pray to whatever god that may be listening that my final breaths were taken at your side and yours alone, Olivia. I shouldn’t want that but I need it to be the case. You have been my home for as long as I could remember and I know the same rings true for you. You were safety, comfort, love, warmth, compassion, truth, kindness, and acceptance..equanimity personified, Liv.
Tears drip down onto the paper and she watches how the ink blurs from the moisture.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea..maybe I should stop while I’m ahead..” Her voice is quaking with unresolved feelings and an emotion she hasn’t felt since her mother died or since Elliot had left her the first time; its anguish and distress and his letter is messy and she can’t keep up with the topic switch every two paragraphs and she hates him because she doesn’t understand how she got here.
Olivia runs a hand across her face and skims the letter no longer holding on to every word he’s saying. She catches a few lines here and there, he’s mostly talking about his guilt in leaving her all those years ago without a word now and they’ve already had that discussion so she doesn’t find it necessary to sink her claws into that portion. She reads, and reads, and reads until her eyes come to a sudden stop. She’s laser focused on this particular portion because it’s something she’s never heard from his own lips before so maybe that’s what catches her off guard when she reads it aloud.
I always envisioned us getting married. I thought of it so often it felt like I was mentally cheating on Kathy. The way you’d look in white, would your dress be flowy? Or are you more of a skin tight fit? Do you like lace? Or is your preferred texture satin? Would you wear your hair up? Or down, flowing around your shoulders. I thought about asking you out the night we sat on my stoop and drank together. You got tea with a flower at the bottom because you’d come to like it in your time away and I’d gotten my usual coffee with too much sugar and not enough creamer (they’d messed up my order but I couldn’t bear to go back and tell them because I needed to see you.
I thought if we patched up our partnership that night, it would open a new door with endless possibilities. I was right it did open new doors, Liv. You forgave me and I forgave myself for hurting you so dearly..but I couldn’t quite forgive myself enough to ask the question that had been burning on the tip of my tongue since you’d come back to me.
To me? Does that sound possessive? Probably, like I said, I'm a greedy man, Liv. You know it and I know it. Anyways I should have asked you because now I’m miserable. I’m bound to Kathy once more when my heart belongs to you. I have Eli but he should be ours..he should be fifth percent you and fifty percent me not fifty percent Kathy and fifty percent of myself. I should be wearing a new band around my ring finger.
I’ve imagined what inscription I’d have on the inside so many times. It’d be simple and to some maybe clichè but I’d always imagined putting our badge numbers: ‘6313 & 4015’ in beautiful lettering with my words during our first year of partnership paired beside it: “Partners for better or worse.” Would you have liked that? I think you would have as a matter of fact I know you would have. Our numbers forever intertwined just like our souls, bodies, and minds.
I’ve thought of the ring I’d get you and what my vows would have been and maybe one day all my thoughts will come to fruition. One day in the future maybe you’ll be mine and you’ll be reading this letter in old age after I’ve passed.
The letter cuts after this last line and she thanks god for it, she knows, oh she knows that there is one final page left in this god forsaken letter but she isn’t sure if she can go on. Olivia’s eyes are wet once more and her throat is tight with the pressure and weight of the words written before her. She has had so many breakdowns she’s not sure if she has another one in her and she knows Olivia knows she is going to have one if she finishes reading what he’s written to her. She contemplates for a few moments; the letter is in her lap and she’s repeatedly flicking the corner of the letter. On one hand she could speed through it, speed through his words without giving them a second thought because dammit she’s been left with enough unresolved questions and on the other she knows despite what she wants to do, what she craves so dearly to do she can’t. Olivia has to know every single word, commit every single sentence to her memory because this is his final letter to her—this is her Elliot’s final letter to her and for that alone she flips to the last page.
“He—here goes nothing. I hope this is worth it, El.” Her voice trembles as her gaze settles.
You’ve made it this far? Haha I thought you’d have given up, given how much I’ve written but I should’ve known you could never give up on me—on anything I’ve done or written.
I know you’re crying right now, Liv. Please wipe your tears..I’m not there to do it for you but I want you to dry your tears, hell if you have to do it exactly how I would if I were there, Olivia. This letter wasn’t meant to cause you any pain despite the reasoning behind me writing it and I need you to know that. I need you to know that I wrote this all those years ago and am finishing it now because I know nothing last’s forever, everyone’s time must come to an end and I need you, do you understand me? I needed you to know I love you, I loved you all those years ago when you walked into my life by chance, and I love you now, okay?
I love you because you showed me that love wasn’t conditional, it isn’t supposed to be. And you showed me that, so please dry your eyes and remember the good times. Remember how I held you when they turned you down for a sperm donor because I knew you would be a fantastic mother and I had no idea how they could have ever shot someone so beautiful, kind, compassionate, and loving down. Remember when your mother died and your light had dimmed so greatly that after work I came by your place and we ate Wo-hop together on your shitty couch and I made you laugh because I couldn’t stand the sight of your tears..and how when you eventually broke I held you like my life depended on it, Liv.
Remember every single moment we’d spent together..keep us alive in your memories. The good, the bad, the devastating it doesn’t matter to me just promise me you’ll keep our—my spirit alive within you, okay?
I could go on forever but like I said everything must come to an end including this letter. So I’ll leave you with these parting words, words I’ve only said to you once and by god I meant it then and I mean it now, Liv.
I love you. I love you in every single way a person is capable of loving another. I love your soul, your smile, your kindness, your laughter; the way it lights up any room you’re in, I love your freckles and the way you cover them for everyone except me—answer me this when we meet again why not for me? Why did you cover them up for everyone else and yet when we were together they were as prominent as the stars in the sky. I loved every imperfection you had because they were so authentically you, no lies, no facade, just you, Liv.
A single dried tear appears to have blurred the words in the letter; presumably from when he was originally writing.
You’re so authentically you..and I love you for that. Do you hear me now Olivia? I love you and nothing can—or will ever change that. It’s you..it’s always been you, my love.
Forever yours,
Elliot Joseph Stabler
(Forever yours do you hear me? Forever yours Olivia Benson, Forever.)
It hurts. Everything hurts. Her stomach, her eyes, her nose, her chest, her head; especially her head. She can’t produce any more tears but trust her if she could she would because although the other pages were heartbreaking to read this one, this one in specific has just gutted her from the inside out. How can he write this? How could he write this and just leave her! How could he leave her..
“I hate you..Elliot I hate you. I hate you because I love you and you’ll never know that. You will never know just how much I loved you, how much I love you..and I hate you for that, despise you even.” She shakily inhales between sentences. “I shouldn’t hate you, should I? This is my fault, I thought we had more time—I thought we would have more time because you promised me Elliot. You promised me you’d come back home safely.”
“You broke your promise and once again I missed my chance.” She looks down at the letter and brings it to her lips pressing a kiss to the paper; it smells like his cologne oddly enough and that alone ruins her. “I was ready..I was ready Elliot. Fuck! FUCK —“ she lies back on the bed.
“I was ready..”