I loved the season finale. I thought it was so great how the writers used the imagery of elevators to represent transitions in relationships and doors to represent the endings of phases in their lives. But I just felt like there was one final scene that was missing, especially after Will and Alicia's elevator conversation. If I was a writer, this is how I would've ended the season.

Her clenched hand fell away from the door only to smooth down her skirt, her jacket, her hair for probably the dozenth time since coming to stand in front of this door.

She had no idea how long she had been standing there. It might only have been five, ten minutes but it could be closer to thirty or forty. She was just so lost in her thoughts. And her doubts. The questions were flitting through her mind like bees swarming a hive. The scenarios, the consequences of this one knock could be staggering, life changing, affecting everything and everyone around her…her children, work, Peter's campaign, Will. Everything was coming down to this one moment, this one knock on a door, to this one conversation that needed to be had – this one conversation that has needed to happen for the last three years. Maybe even longer.

Yet nothing felt more right, more certain. For the last three years her life has been nothing but drama. One mess after another. Some of Peter's making, some of her own. But always a mess. Always being plagued with doubt and uncertainty. Was she making the right decisions? Was she hurting her children? Was she risking her family? Her job? Her morality?

Now at last, things made sense. It was time to move on. To move forward. One door has closed. It was time for another door – this door – to open. If only she could take this final step. To knock on this door. To grab some happiness for herself.

She breathed deeply. A calming breath. A steadying breath. With a slight tremor in her hand, she smoothed her clothes one last time, tucked one last strand of hair behind her ear and raised her curled fingers rapping lightly on the door.

With anticipation and a hint of trepidation, she held her breath at the sound of a distant thump then unhurried footsteps coming closer. A sudden stillness just behind that door caused her breath to catch and her heart to accelerate.

Please, oh please, just let him hear me out…..

A snick of a deadbolt, the click of a doorknob engaging then turning and the door opened.

For a moment, they just stared at each other.

Then that soft, reverent voice – that one he always reserved just for her – caressed her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. "Alicia?"

"Hi, Will," she whispered past dry, trembling lips. A moment of uncertain silence passed before she asked that all-too important question, "Can we talk?"

A moment of hesitation and a flash of confusion in his eyes almost caused her to turn on her heels and flee. Some unconscious, infinitesimal movement on her part – or perhaps a sixth sense on his – had him reaching out and capturing her wrist. She just stared at the sight of those long, lean, masculine fingers encircling her wrist and then watched in utter fascination as they slowly slid down to entwine with her own fingers.

A husky "Stay" brought her eyes back to his and the flare of hope that lived there. She knew then that he knew why she was there. That she was trusting him with her life, her heart, her very soul. And he was willing to trust her with his.

A slight tug on her hand brought her forward and as she crossed the threshold of his apartment, a tiny tremor of anticipation and exhilaration skittered along her nerves. For this was about so much more than entering an apartment. This was about crossing the threshold into a new life, a new beginning with the only man she could ever imagine allowing into her life and into the lives of her children.