The first time this had happened. She had run to her father.
She'd known what she had to do, what she was supposed to do, but she had to hear him say it, because her father was her saving grace, a man who had never steered her wrong.
His answer to the question was simple, "Do you love him?"
As Alicia threw the test into the trash, barely aware of the fact that her hands were shaking, she felt a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had no one to run to this time, no one who could possibly know the circumstance she had gotten herself in to, no saving grace, no logical answer to one of the most difficult questions she had ever had to face.
But she still, without a doubt, knew what she had to do.
Grabbing the bin bag from the trash she disposed of the evidence, something she planned to do in every which way. She took a deep breath and choked back her tears. Dabbed at her eyes in the mirror. Smoothed her hair in place. Practiced her fake smile. Suppressed the bile rising in her throat.
Just another day pretending that everything was as it should be. She had perfected the art of pretending.
She couldn't shake the feeling that she was cursed.
Alicia climbed into her car to head off to work, still suppressing impending tears. Subconsciously, she'd suspected it. But it had been too easy to tell herself that it was just stress from work and from her personal life that caused her to be late. Because she was too old. Because she already had two children, who were both teenagers. Because she was married, and had just started her professional life again and was in the midst of an affair with her boss and had far far too many things to worry about.
But fate was a bitch, who had christened Alicia her new favorite toy, and so after the unsettling nightmare she'd had about Grace the night before, she'd succumbed to the voice of doubt in the back of her head. The one telling her to that something unpleasant was looming in the distance, that the storm was about to catch her unaware. She'd probably worried Grace with her insistence that she be careful, and she knew both her and Zach thought she was too over protective. An octopus clinging to a rock they called her. She was acutely aware that once again, she had failed to protect her children.
How could she protect her children when she was the one being distracted, when she was the one ignoring the consequences of her actions?
Time to terminate those distractions.
Alicia steeled herself and started her car, vowing that she wouldn't think about any more. Because by the end of the day it wouldn't matter, she would have an appointment and the problem would be taken care of. Quick and without fuss. Sweeping dust under the carpet.
It was easy to avoid Will that day. She knew she wouldn't be able to face him, not without having some sort of breakdown. And Alicia Florrick, the politician's wife, the faithful woman, did not have breakdowns. There were always too many eyes on her.
No one expected a saint to have a breakdown.
So she busied herself by concentrating on arbitration with Caitlin. She liked Caitlin. Caitlin took her mind off the mess her life had become and reminded Alicia of an easier time, when Alicia had been young and hungry, a sailor attempting to gain her sea legs, unprepared for what the world had in store for her.
She even took Canning's surprise appearance with grace, determined to continue her façade, to not reveal to anyone the cracks in her exterior.
Nobody else noticed that her laugh was just a bit too high or that she always seemed to be swallowing back something on the tip of her tongue, or that far from the fiery feisty woman she knew she was capable of being, she was in a dark mood, her mind entertaining dark thoughts.
Darkness you know, is relative.
She went home, still playing the pretend game, consulted with her daughter on help with the case, and promised her that she would get rid of her distractions. She booked the appointment.
Then the storm hit.
Alicia's breath caught in her throat and panic seized her as she scrolled through the missed calls her daughter had left her. Everything else, Canning and her problems, became white noise.
"I have to go".
"Mrs Florrick, listen to me, I'll take you".
It was good to know she wasn't alone.
She prayed, for the first time in years. She wanted to believe in something bigger than herself, something that could bring her daughter home to her. And as tears streamed down her face that same voice at the back of her head that had been plaguing her for weeks now whispered that this was karmic retribution.
She didn't, couldn't answer Will's call. She asked that Canning take her back to her house and she did the only thing she could. She waited.
Hearing Grace call her prompted her to run straight to the door and in to her daughter's arms. She grasped her daughter and was unable to suppress the tears that had been threatening to break free all day.
When you become a parent, your world tilts. Your wants and desires are no longer what are important in the world. And Alicia, in that single moment knew without a doubt that that applied to the life inside her as well.
And so the next day, her loss to Canning was far from her mind. She counted every step towards Will's office. With every step she doubted herself more and more.
But after all he had done for her, she owed at least this much to Will. He deserved the chance to know. He deserved much more than what she gave him, but she would give him the chance to know.
Will stood up as she entered, and she knew that once more he would try to be understanding towards her. That he would try to reach out to her.
He always tried so hard.
It occurred to her that she was the one with the issues.
She attempted a smile.
"It seems like I haven't seen you in a while".
"I know".
"I heard everything's good with your daughter".
"Yes, thank you".
Calm. Curt. Polite.
The calm before the storm.
She looked down, unable to face him.
"Will?"
A pause. A look of resignation.
"Yes?"
She finally met his eyes, tears brimming, head shaking, scared beyond belief and finally said the words to both him and herself.
"I'm pregnant".