Author's note: I know, don't get mad at me! I disappeared for four weeks. That was certainly not planned, but life got in the way. Hope you will enjoy this next chapter
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: Her answers are short and clear. Well-articulated as always, in control of every single word she's saying. Still, I sense a tremble in her voice. Ever so soft and barely noticeable for the untrained ear. But I'm not untrained. I know her, I know her better than she wants to perhaps. I know she's still hurting, and I hate that I'm just sitting here and can't do anything.
Thanks: To all of you who encourage me to continue with this story. Each and every review I receive brings a smile to my face!

Force Majeure

Chapter 19 – Court

"Without a heart you'll finish last"
- Racoon (Shoes of Lightning)

Five weeks later

Tuesday, 11:03 AM

Quietly, I slip through the door of the courtroom and sit down on the first available seat in the back of the room. I quickly silence my phone and take in my surroundings. The room is relatively empty. I spot Alicia on the first row on the right. Owen and her mother right behind her. I check the left to see if I recognize Dilaney's lawyer. I don't. Bad sign for Dilaney, good thing for Alicia. And judge Abernathy, that's excellent.

The last-minute decision was made behind my desk this morning. Alicia's court date had been marked as tentativein my calendar for weeks, but I wasn't sure whether I really wanted, dared, and most of all should, attend her hearing. Because I do get the feeling that I'm invading her privacy, listening in on her trial like this. But I decided to go. To show my support. Show her that I actually care about how this all ends, because I do. And not just about all this. I care about her. I always have.

I don't like to admit it, but the last couple months have been difficult for me. The firm is still in the midst of the aftermath of the loss of our top three clients, and so am I. I've been in competition mode ever since. Even for someone who thrives on competitiveness it's hard to keep it up 24/7. But I had to. It was the only viable response to the whole situation. And to her. Her and her betrayal.

As soon as Alicia had broken the news to me, I had known that I needed to rip her out of my life completely. And I had been quite successful in doing so. Up until that night of the class-action. No matter how complex and twisted our relationship had been throughout the years, it had never felt wrong to be with her. Even in those moments where we weren't supposed to kiss, touch or feel each other, it still felt good. Sure, it felt like a mistake afterwards. But never in the moment.

Because our physical attraction had always been, and most likely will always be, undeniable. We connect. There's an electricity between us. It didn't always ignite. It could be dormant for months, hell, years. But it was there. And it was there that evening. But when my lips touched hers and as my hands slid down her thighs, I realized I was unable to connect with her. As if we were suffering a power outage. I wanted to get it over it, I really did.

I couldn't.

We let go, she left, and I just sat there behind my desk, devastated. We were over and done. I was literally unable to be with her. It hurt. But it also made things surprisingly simple, or so I thought.

Without ever talking about it, we suddenly had this non-verbal agreement to avoid each other, and we had both abided by the rules. Up until five weeks ago, simply because those rules and principles no longer mattered when I found her collapsed in that parking garage. Unforeseeable circumstances.

I realize the hearing started and I'm barely paying attention. But then I hear ASA Brody's voice calling Alicia to the stand. I see her get up, calm and collected. As she sits in the witness stand, I notice how perfect she looks. Confident and strong. Her bruises have healed completely. She looks healthy, less exhausted than a couple weeks ago when I talked to her at the court house.

She confidently looks around the room. As she does, she sees me. Our eyes lock. She doesn't react to seeing me here, doesn't show a single emotion. I feel equally relieved as awkward that she now knows I'm here. I just give her a brief smile, but when I do, she's already looking at Brody and no longer at me.

Her answers are short and clear. Well-articulated as always, in control of every single word she's saying. Still, I sense a tremble in her voice. Ever so soft and barely noticeable for the untrained ear. But I'm not untrained. I know her, I know her better than she wants to perhaps. I know she's still hurting, and I hate that I'm just sitting here and can't do anything.

"What were mr. Dilaney's first words when you entered that parking garage?"

"He said he had been waiting for me," she responds calmly.

"What happened next?"

"I told him we shouldn't be talking there. He told me he wasn't here to talk. Then he started to close me in."

My stomach turns.

"Can you explain in what way he closed you in?"

"He was between me and my car. He came closer, I took a step back but I couldn't go any further. There was a column there. He pushed me against it. My phone dropped out of my hand."

I see her breathe in deeply. I clench my fist. I still can't believe this guy did this to her.

"Were you able to get away at this point?"

"No. He grabbed my wrists and… He put his knee up in between my legs." Her voice cracks. She clears her throat before he continues. "I couldn't go anywhere."

"Did the defendant tell you anything else?"

She nods. "He told me to talk his wife out of the divorce. I told him I couldn't do that. That's when he hit my head against the column."

"Did you pass out after that?"

"No. I remember him placing his hand over my mouth and pressing on my chest to keep me there. Then he hit my jaw. After that… I'm afraid I don't remember anything."

She said all that showing barely any emotion, but as soon as she finished the last words she stares to the ground and bites her lip. You're brave, is what I want to tell her.

I've come to realize that I can't not care about her. It's not a new realization. I've known for years. But the last couple months I've noticed that it's becoming unbearable to keep her at a distance. I think I might be done with fighting my feelings for her, even though I'm still mad at her for how she left the firm and betrayed my trust. But I didn't try to get in touch with her over the past couple of weeks. She needed time to process everything that happened with her own family. I didn't want to be a part of that. And I couldn't be, I needed some time as well. I needed to process what had happened too. Me finding her like that, sitting next to her in the hospital and being back in her apartment. Caring for her. Worrying about her. Watching her sleep, holding her…

It was the most vulnerable I've ever seen her. The most we ever cared for each other. We never did that. Our relationship, or whatever we used to have, never went that far. There was always some sort of boundary we couldn't cross. I never really understood where the boundary was exactly, but Alicia seemed to have a razor-sharp line in her mind. If we were about to cross that line, she immediately pulled back all the troops. She'd throw herself back into a world I could never be a part of. Reason always got the best of her. I never liked how Alicia and I handled things to begin with. Or better said, her stubborn and rational way of handling us that, in my view, ruined opportunities and blocked so many scenarios. What could have been. We should have cared more for each other. But I always understood. My understanding for her and her family situation had been endless.

My train of thoughts stop immediately as I see Dilaney take the stand. You fucker, is all I can think. Who are you to think that you can do this? Not just assaulting her, beating her up, but then simply denying you had the intention. Come on. But then I look at my phone. Four missed calls. Shit. I need to leave. I get up as quietly as I had entered the room two hours earlier and head back to the office.

As I walk to my car I send her a text message. She won't read it before she's out of court, but that's okay:

You're strong. And you'll win this. I hope you know that.

Thank you for reading!

(Preview for next chapter: Will finally seems open to talking. Alicia and Will at a bar, having a good and much needed conversation).