She kept trying to tell herself it was just one stupid night in a hotel room, that it meant nothing. That the way he nibbled her ears and kissed her lips so graciously didn't matter. That the way she felt special for the first time, something Peter had never made her feel, wasn't real. That the way she felt loved more by Will that night than she had in her twenty years of marriage to Peter. Because she, Alicia, is supposed to be the good wife quietly standing behind her man, and what she did is not what good wives do.
But it's getting harder and harder to deny her feelings for him. Every time she catches a glance of him, even for just a second, all of the memories from that night come flooding back, and she just want to kiss him so badly. His scent intoxicates her, and she goes weak at the knees any time she gets a whiff and is brought back to how it lingered on her for days after their special evening. But what really kills her is when he looks at her, not out of the corner of his eye, but straight on, even if it is just for a second. It brings her back to the way he looked into hers that night and told her she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in a way that Peter could never compare to.
All of this makes her scared. Very scared. She isn't really sure what they are at this point. Are they back to just friends? Are they just coworkers who occasionally hook up? Are they dating? Is this the start of a new and amazing relationship? She thinks, "God, I hope so," but then, "God, I hope not." She wants Will so badly it hurts, but she has her kids to think about. They are her first priority.
Her mind begins to overload with the pros and cons of a relationship with Will and everything that has happened between them. And then the tears start to trickle down her cheeks because her heart is being pulled in so many different directions. The few water droplets turn into full-on sobs, and she completely breaks down. She gets so worked up a wave of nausea hits her, and she runs into her bathroom, barely pushing up the toilet before throwing up all of last night's dinner into the toilet. As she flushes it down the drain, her heart stops and she can't breathe. She quickly stumbles over to her cell phone to check the date.
"Oh no. Oh no no no no no no no! This can't possibly be happening. Not now. Maybe not ever, actually!" she thinks to herself. She grabs her keys off of her beside table, and quietly sneaks out without waking her sleeping children. She knows it's 1:00 am, but that doesn't matter. She has to know if she's pregnant now. She turns on her car and practically floors it to CVS. She shakes as she makes her way to the pregnancy test section, somewhere she'd never thought she'd be again after Grace was born because Peter hadn't wanted a third baby. She picks up the most expensive and supposedly most high-tech pregnancy test on the market. "This is not a time to be stingy," she thinks, "I need this to be accurate." She grabs four of them, throws some bills at the check-out attendee, and speeds home.
She knows the drill for the process, and pees on all four of the sticks. Now to wait. She tries to comfort herself by repeating over and over again that it's only five minutes until she'll have her answer. In what seems like a lifetime later, the five-minute mark finally approaches. She is scared to look but also scared not to look. She can't not find out and then deny that being pregnant is a possibility. She glances into the mirror, lets one final deep breath in and out, and turns her head down to the bathroom counter, where she finds the word "pregnant" clearly formed on every test.