Mackenzie McHale was walking the streets of Manhattan. When she'd first stepped outside, exiting the ACN building at a dashing pace, rain sheeting down, she had walked with a purpose driven by anger. She was compelled to get as far away from Will as possible, and if she wasn't fast enough he'd catch up, and she wasn't prepared to have a second confrontation. As the fury abated and became a dull ache of regret, she slowed down and took notice of where she was. She had walked without caring for direction or scenery, and had ended up in Midtown, not far from her apartment. Her old apartment, she corrected herself. This was not her neighborhood anymore.
She turned up 34th Street and walked by the Empire State Building. The doors were still open, so she went inside. The man at the desk said, "Only ten more minutes to buy Observation Deck tickets, Miss. We'll be closing up there soon." She wasn't really sure why, but she took out money and handed it to the clerk, reaching out to take her ticket when he waved it in front of her eyes. She blinked herself back into focus. "Enjoy your visit," he said, as Mac walked to the bank of elevators and ducked inside one before the doors closed.
Mackenzie stood in the elevator, barely feeling its movement. She was shaking, less now from antipathy and more from the bitter chill that was permeating her bones.
When she reached the observation deck she walked back outside into the raw November air. At least it's stopped raining, she thought. She stood with her face almost touching the fencing, looking in the direction of the building which housed the apartment she and Will now shared. She felt a twinge of remorse as she looked out into the sea of fireflies that were the burning bright windows of the city, wondering which one of them framed his face as he stared out into the inky sky breathing her name.
Her phone chimed. A message from Will. "Where are you?"
She replied, "Nowhere important."
A few minutes later: "Please tell me where you are. I'll send Lonny to come get you. I'm worried."
Mac snorted. "You can't choose to be concerned when it suits you. You were fine to disregard my feelings earlier."
A moment later: "I know, I'm an asshole. I know it, and I'm sorry."
Mackenzie sighed. It would do her no good to stay resentful, skin stinging from the air and her still-sodden clothes. She sent him another response: "I'm at the Empire State Building. I'll head downstairs and get in a cab. Home soon."
She gave one last downcast look at the peaks of the buildings, the ethereal skyline that customarily filled her with wonder. Tonight it did nothing but remind her that her problems were waiting for her elsewhere.
She'd managed to dry off some in the cab but she still looked like a she'd been drowned, Ophelia in a long coat and 4 inch heels. As she rode up in the elevator, she stopped caring what her hair looked like, or how much her eye make-up had run. Maybe the sight of her, disheveled and shivering, would add another layer of guilt.
As the elevator arrived at their apartment, Mackenzie could hear music. Will was playing the grand piano in the living room.
As the doors slid noiselessly open, she could see him, his back to her, playing gently a song she knew but hadn't heard him perform before. She loved hearing him play and sing, though normally he drifted towards the guitar before the piano.
She stepped into the apartment, removing her shoes quietly, and hanging her coat in the front closet. She walked in stocking feet and stood to listen. When he sang:
"Love of my life - you've hurt me,
You've broken my heart and now you leave me.
Love of my life can't you see,
Bring it back, bring it back,
Don't take it away from me, because you don't know, what it means to me.
Love of my life don't leave me,
You've taken my love, you now desert me,
Love of my life can't you see,
Bring it back, bring it back,
Don't take it away from me because you don't know what it means to me."
she could feel the lump in her throat getting bigger until her eyes were awash with tears. She walked to him and placed a hand softly on his shoulder. He inclined his head towards the bench so she would sit next to him.
He went on playing, and sang:
"You will remember -
When this is blown over
And everything's all by the way -
When I grow older
I will be there at your side to remind you how I still love you - I still love you."
Finally, the sobs broke and she had dissolved in tears.
Immediately, Will's arms went around her and she buried her face in his chest. His sweater was soft against her cheeks, and she clenched fistfuls of it in her hands as she cried. Will soothed her with gentle murmurs in her ear, apologies and pleas for her to calm down. It broke his heart to see her in distress.
When she had calmed down to the point that her sobs had become sniffling, he stood up and guided her over to the couch. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Before she could say anything, he said, "I know. I should have talked to you about the fact that you'd need to give a deposition, but I wanted to shield you from the worst of it, at least until Rebecca was sure you'd have to testify. I thought it would be better coming from me than from counsel. And then I should have discussed with you about it instead of making pronouncements and refusing to hear you. I know, I was wrong, and I'm sorry."
"I know. And if I chosen to hear the pleading in your voice, the fear, I would have seen I shouldn't push you. You know how I get when I feel I'm being ordered about: I get my back up. I'm sorry for goading you into a fight. And for leaving." she said.
"You know, you can't always run, and I can't always push you away. Those are old patterns. We need to unlearn them." he said.
She lifted her head and turned to look at him. "I know," she replied. "From now on, if we're in a situation where we think it's going to get away from us, like tonight, we have to stop and table it until we're home. OK? Can we agree to that?" He nodded, his head moving against her cheek.
She put her head back down on his shoulder and took a deep breath. "I love that song, by the way. I've never heard you play it before." she went on.
"I used to sing it a lot while you were gone," he said simply. "No one could sing it like him, though," Will trailed off.
"It's so sad. Do you really feel like that?" she asked, head still on his shoulder.
"Not all the time. Sometimes, if we fight, or if I'm feeling down for some reason, I do. Old habits, y'know. Easy to fall back into the melancholic." he smiled sadly.
"Well, I don't want to be sad anymore tonight," she said firmly. "I love you, and I'm over it. Let's go to bed," she said, getting up and walking toward the bedroom, pausing in the doorway to crook her finger at him suggestively."You can make it up to me somehow."
That was all that was necessary.