Author's note: I was so excited to see that most loyal readers and reviewers are still with me! And a warm welcome to the new followers as well, thank you so much! I'm definitely back in my writing rhythm, and I can't wait for tonight's episode!
Summary: force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: "You want to go see her." "No," my voice sounds dark. "It wasn't a question." I turn my face towards Kalinda. "I don't want to see her. That's what makes all this so twisted."
Thanks: to Jen, as always. For proof reading the chapter, pointing out details, fixing comma's and coming up with fresh ideas. And a huge thanks to all the reviewers, please keep them coming! It's inspiring and keeps me going.
Force Majeure
Chapter 11 – Complex Loyalties
"Take a cup when your spirit's low"
- Gregory Porter (Liquid Spirit)
Friday, 7:50 AM
My car took me back to work. I don't remember the road at all. I simply blinked my way through it. My eyes are heavy with sleep, and I'm still wearing yesterday's clothes.
I'm in the parking garage. I lean back in the driver's seat and rub my eyes once more. As I open them and let out a deep yawn, my eye falls on the blue plastic bag on the floor of the passenger seat. The nurse gave it to us on our way out. And Alicia didn't take it with her. I forgot about it. And all that's in there is her ripped blouse and the earrings she was wearing. Still, they're her belongings. Shit.
I rub my face and then feel the stubble of my beard. I didn't shave last night.
I didn't do anything.
I just sat there, at her dining table in her apartment. That thought in itself confuses me so much that I decide to get out of the car and into the elevator.
Let's get passed this.
Friday, 2:00 PM
I'm clearly not passed this.
The blue bag on the couch seems to continuously draw my attention. No matter what file I'm reading or any time I am on the phone, my eyes are drawn to that bag, and it distracts me.
I get up from my chair and throw it on the floor, out of sight from my desk. I sit back down and bury my head in my hands. I need sleep. And I feel like I need time to think.
Should I ask my assistant to send that bag to her house? Would that be rude? I don't want to go by her house with that bag. I don't want to give off the wrong impression. I'm not even sure what impression that would be.
My mind is spinning. Not just about the bag, but all of it.
I stayed.
I was there, all night. Why? Why didn't I just call Owen? It would have been fine. He would have understood. I keep asking myself if, somehow subconsciously, I wanted to be there for her. IThat it felt good to be there. But I hated it. I felt terrible. I didn't want to stay, did I? No.
Next, I start thinking about the scenario where I wouldn't have been the one to walk in the parking garage at that moment. A stranger would have called 911, and someone would have informed me sometime today that Alicia got hurt by our client. What would I have done? Would I visit her? Would I have cared? Or was it simply seeing what terrible shape she was in that made me want to care for her?
It gives me shivers, every time my mind goes back to how she laid there, collapsed against the column. Pale, her jaw swollen and her face bruised. It looked incredibly painful. I wanted to do much more for her. When she finally fell asleep, I wanted to lay down next to her, stroke her hair and whisper comforting words. But that has passed. That is never going to happen again.
My eyes start burning. I want to tell myself that it's the lack of sleep and the brightness of my computer screen, but it's not that.
"Short night sleep?"
A voice breaks through my thoughts as I look up to see Diane, standing in my doorway.
"No sleep," I correct her with a grouchy voice and clear my throat.
"Should I stop asking questions?" She jokes light-heartedly as she walks in.
I grin at that. "No, I–" Should I even start about me staying with her? What does that imply?
"Did you talk to David?" She asks, ignoring the fact I just broke off my sentence.
I shake my head. "He wasn't in."
"He is now," she replies.
"Oh." I don't feel too eager to talk to him.
"We need to hear what went down in that meeting room beforehand."
"Yeah," I answer reluctantly.
"Do you know what exactly happened in that parking garage?"
"I don't know," I sigh. I push my chair back and get up.
I walk to the window, my back towards Diane. My eyes are still burning. I don't want to do this.
"Do you think someone of us should visit?" Diane sounds softer than I'm used to. She's clearly affected by the news.
"She doesn't want us there." It comes out colder than I intended.
"Send flowers, then?"
I purse my lips. We could do that. I don't know what to do.
We fall silent.
"I was with her," I plainly state, and tuck my hands into my pockets. I'm still staring out the window. I don't know why I tell her that. It feels like a confession.
"I heard."
I turn around, my brow arched in confusion.
"Kalinda."
I nod. Right.
"I understand," she continues. "You did the right thing."
"Yeah, well…," I mumble. "It could have been worse." I'm doing my very best to sound as distant as I'd like to be.
Friday, 3:08 PM
I stand in the hallway when I see David talk to Diane in her office.
"I gave them all the information I had," I hear David say to Diane as I walk in.
"Who's them?" I ask, joining the conversation.
"The police."
"Good," Diane answers from behind her desk.
"I don't understand how you didn't see this coming, David," I can't help to say.
"Will, I was simply doing my job," he says, throwing his hands in the air.
"Did he threat her during negotiations?" I ask directly. I realize, I'm getting worked up about the whole situation.
He sighs. "It's a divorce, Will. Men get possessive. Worked up," he gives me a look as if he uses my behaviour as an example.
"Did he threaten her?" I ask, insisting on him to answer.
"No. If I would have seen this coming, I would have called security." He lifts himself up of Diane's desk.
I shake my head in frustration.
"You don't believe that?"
"I don't know. I just don't understand–"
"I know, she is our competition. I want to wreck that ridiculous firm of hers–"
"You don't have any boundaries, do you?" I cut him off.
"Will." Diane interferes and gives me a look, pleading me to stop talking.
"You know better, Will. I have nothing to do with this. Don't talk to me as if I'm responsible, or that I wanted this to happen. That's disgusting."
"I'm sorry. I just think you accept a lot more from a man like that than any sane person would."
"Don't be ridiculous."
I'm about to continue when I hear Kalinda's voice. "They got him."
I turn around.
"Dilaney," she explains. "The police just gave me a call."
I swallow away my anger and look at David. "Good."
"Are we sending her flowers or something?" David asks.
"We should," Diane responds.
"Make sure I get the card to write my best wishes." With that, he leaves the office.
Diane looks at me. "You need to calm down."
Without saying another word, I head back to my office and make my way to my desk.
Kalinda watches me from my door as I sit back down in my desk. "Long night?"
Friday, 7:45 PM
She told me I needed to drink. I sip my Scotch, my elbows finding support on the oak wood bar. Kalinda sits next to me, at the corner of the bar.
I watch her as she drinks her wine. Now, I consider her a friend. With us, it tends to shift. She's a beautiful woman with a confidence that sometimes makes me insecure. I'm never quite sure what to make of her, or of the relationship we have. I like to think she's always honest me. And I also like think that whatever I tell her, doesn't go anywhere. But she has her ways, and her complex loyalties I'll never quite understand.
"What's that bag?" She asks me, hinting to the bag that I dropped on the empty stool in between us.
"See for yourself," I gesture for her to have a look.
"Ah," she says as she opens it up. "This is Alicia's."
I don't even know why I brought it with me here. I could have just left it in the car.
"I forgot to bring it inside last night," I explain, and take another sip. The strong liquid burning in my throat feels good.
"Take it to her," she says.
"No," I shake my head. "I thought about sending it."
"Don't do that." She puts it back down. "Want me to take it?"
I turn my head towards her, a bit surprised by the offer. "I don't know."
We fall silent again.
She puts her glass down and turns her face towards me. "It really got to you, didn't it?"
"What?" I ask, even though I know the answer.
"Last night."
"It just…-" I stop my words. "I don't know." I take another sip. "This time, I really don't know. She was so…hurt."
"Yeah," Kalinda responds. I never need to go into detail with her.
"I didn't know what else to do then, but to stay."
"She was lucky to have you there."
I shake my head in frustration. I grin, scornfully almost.
"Will, she was lucky to have you there," she repeats.
But I don't want to hear it.
It's as if the universe is playing tricks with me. I don't want to care for her. I decided we were over and done, and now this situation is being thrown at me. And it's not like it was news to me that I still care, I just didn't need to be confronted with that. Not now, not like this. Not after that night in my office when I realized how nothing was left. How we were so desperately broken and how I didn't want to attempt to fix it ever again.
That night… I don't know why we were that weak. It wasn't supposed to happen. Last night wasn't supposed to happen. I wasn't supposed to hold her hand, and stay at her house. None of that was supposed to happen. Maybe none of it was ever supposed to. Perhaps I pushed my luck when I got her in at L/G. Maybe that was the first mistake.
Don't ever push your luck.
Maybe, in some twisted way, it all comes back to that. I tried too hard, I wanted too much.
Then, I realize Kalinda staring at me, one brow raised. "Will?"
"Sorry," I reply. Was she talking to me? "What were you saying?"
"Have you talked to her?"
I shake my head.
"At all?"
I just shake my head.
"You want to go see her."
"No." My voice comes from far away, dark and distant.
"It wasn't a question."
I turn my face towards her. "I don't want to see her. That's what makes all this so…twisted."
She gives me a look that tells me she doesn't agree with me. And I know, I don't agree with myself either.
Kalinda isn't the only one with complex loyalties, I realize.
Thank you for reading! I'd love to hear what you think :)
Preview for next chapter: Time for another flashback. My version of how Alicia left L/G, from Alicia's perspective!