Author's note: OK. This chapter took me so, so long. It felt like a turning point in the story and it needed to be right. Sorry to keep you waiting, as always.
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: "Maybe you were holding on to a fantasy." It's out before I realize. It hurts him, I can tell. His jaw tightens. "Or you never had the guts to pursue that very same fantasy," he answers. I'm taken aback by that.
Thanks: To Miral for discovering the story and leaving so many kind reviews, encouraged me to continue!
Force Majeure
Chapter 21 - Collateral Damage
"I almost wish I hadn't gone down the rabbit-hole-and yet-and yet-..."
– Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland
Friday, 2:53 PM
I briefly check my reflection in the front rear mirror as I wait for the last traffic lights before I reach the hotel. The hotel where we've met a dozen times, that one year when it was equally as exciting as exasperating to find moments the rest of the world didn't get to see. It was good, what we had. But life happened, as it often does, and I didn't know how to stop it. Or I didn't dare to. Who knows. He might want me to answer that question today, or maybe not all.
I don't know what to expect from this conversation. I simply want to move on from where we are now. It could be too much to ask, but something tells me he wants the same. And perhaps that's all there is to it; clear the air. And then, life goes on again. As it did when our affair started, when I cut it off, when we kissed, when we kissed again. There's no stopping life. But lately, I had been able to take control of my own. Leaving Lockhart/Gardner, starting my own firm, filing for a divorce… And then, crazy Dilaney got to me. Life won, again. But here I am now, and I'm okay. I'm doing okay. I look back in the mirror. I am doing OK.
I arrive at the hotel and suddenly realise I need to drive down the garage to park my car. Immediately my grip on the wheel tightens. I don't want to, but I should. And I just told myself I was doing okay, so why not just get in there. It's not Dilaney will be there waiting for me, right? Decisively, I turn the wheel to the left, heading towards the entrance of the garage. But then, within the same split second, I turn it fully back to the right and head for the street once more.
No.
I can't do it.
I roll my eyes in frustration.
Friday, 3:06 PM
I was able to park my car a block away from the hotel, making me late a good five minutes. Will was waiting for me at a table in the corner, staring at his phone until I walked up to him and said his name. Now the waiter is taking our orders. We haven't said much yet.
"A double espresso for me and… a mint tea?" Will's eyes quickly look at mine for confirmation.
I nod, amused because he remembered what to order.
"I could use something stronger though," I joke as the waiter walks off.
His mouth twitches into some sort of smile. "Go ahead."
"You wouldn't join me, would you?"
He shakes his head. "I have a meeting at five."
"Very sensible," I nod. I can't help to feel some sort of disappointment knowing he has a meeting after this.
He clicks his tongue. "Always."
We fall silent for a moment, and I immediately realise it's not one of the comfortable silences we used to share together. To the contrary, the conversation so far has not been going very smoothly.
"How have you been?" Will then asks.
"Good," I reply. It's the easy response.
"Really?" He asks. He knows it's the easy answer. But I don't want to go into that now.
"Yes," I nod. "Waiting for the trial to end," I sigh. "Feels like everything has been put on hold and I… need it to continue."
"It's been a long time," He nods.
"Two and half months."
"Does it feel like that?"
I sigh. "I don't know. Time stood still and moved right by me at the same time."
He nods in response, and another silence falls. I only now register the classical music that's playing. It's a bit dark and depressing, not lightening up the mood in the slightest. I realise this isn't going to be an easy conversation in any way. I know the ball is in my court to address the elephant in the room. After all, I was the one who asked for this conversation in the first place.
The waiter returns and places our drinks in front of us.
"So," I just say, stirring my tea. Let's get this show on the road. "What changed?"
"For us sitting here?"
"Yes."
"I figured you and I at least deserve a conversation. Simple as that," he responds matter-of-factly.
"Well, I'm glad," I reply softly, trying to catch his eyes in mine for a second. But he just drinks his coffee. "You know it's almost been a year since I left?" I just decide to ask, in a second attempt to keep us talking.
"Wow. And still, you haven't filed for bankruptcy?" His tone is both dead serious and provoking.
I just smile and take a sip from my tea. "And still… we haven't filed for bankruptcy."
"Well, then Diane needs to pay up."
I raise my brows, asking for an explanation.
"She thought you wouldn't last a year."
"And what did you think?"
He shrugs. "I know how you are when you set your mind to something."
I nod in response. "Should I take that as a compliment?" I look at him.
"I never underestimated you," he says, and his eyes stare straight into mine for just a second. I know, I think. No turning back know, I realise. This is the conversation I asked for. And it may be the only chance I get to explain myself.
"Look, the way I left…I know it wasn't right."
He gives me nothing but a straight stare and pursed lips.
"I've had time to reflect on my decisions," I continue. "The way I handled things… It wasn't like me."
That gets his attention. He cocks his head and looks up to me. "Why not?"
I shake my head. "I don't usually go off the beaten track."
"Still, you did." He takes a sip from his espresso. "Tell me why." Again, his eyes briefly shoot in mine as he asks that, then turn away.
I sigh. I never really thought through the answer. I probably should have.
"I felt. stuck. As if I had been going around in circles. Then this opportunity to break away from it all was presented to me. And it seemed like… a smart move."
He nods unconvinced.
"But how things went down…," I quickly add. "…I was never a hundred percent comfortable with how it happened. All of it had already been set in motion, weeks before I was even asked to join and-"
"Don't," he cuts me off with a cold voice.
I look up to him in surprise.
"Don't pretend like it happened to you. Like you had no control over it. You chose to join."
"I know that," I respond immediately. "I just… I realise it was messy."
"Of course it was. I know how it works. It's never a clean cut."
"Clearly," I reply, and my mind goes back to him shouting at me in my office.
"Do you regret it?"
I look up to him. "No."
"Good."
I nod. "I'm proud of what we achieved."
"You should be," he answers.
I raise my brows in surprise.
"I'm not saying I like it. Trust me, I don't. But you did it. So own it. And stop making excuses."
"You don't want me to apologise?" I ask confused.
He shakes his head.
"So what would you like me to do instead?"
He sighs, puts down his coffee. "Honestly... I've wanted to believe that the scheming for three weeks only affected business. That it wasn't personal."
"And it wasn't," I say immediately.
He shrugs. "Still feels like you played me." His cold stare changes into something much more vulnerable.
"I know," I sigh deeply. "I felt terrible." I mean it. Because I felt so deeply conflicted, knowing what was about to go down. And even though it really was a business move, I knew there would be collateral damage. And I underestimated the extent, or perhaps I close my eyes to it.
He's still just pensively staring at me.
"Of course I knew that it would change things between us," I continue. "But you have to admit, we hit a dead end, didn't we?"
He shakes his head. "I don't think that's true. We said we would talk, and we should have. We would have figured it out."
"I don't believe that," I reply a bit more stabby than I wanted to, but it's the honest response.
He shrugs. "I do."
Another silence. I only now notice the background music. The type of classical music you would expect at a funeral. This place is not what it used to be. Or we're not what it used to be. It's probably both.
"No," I then say firmly, my mind still racing. We were stuck. I don't know why he couldn't see that. How did he not see that we had nowhere to go, the two of us. There was nothing left to change or to figure out. Not at that point in time, at least.
"Maybe you were holding on to a fantasy." It's out before I realize.
It hurts him, I can tell. His jaw tightens.
"Or you never had the guts to pursue that very same fantasy," he answers.
I'm taken aback by that. I don't know what to respond. He sighs, shakes his head, but says nothing else. It keeps resonating in my head. It's an accusation and it hurts to hear him say that. I desperately try to think of another response, some sort of defence, but for a moment I seem lost for words.
"Are you aware we are closing the restaurant in fifteen minutes?" The waiter is standing next to our table, breaking the silence between us.
Thank God, I think.
"No, we weren't," Will replies.
The waiter points to a massive sign in the hallway. "We have a reception in an hour."
Friday, 3:45 PM
I decided to get up and pay for us. I couldn't stand sitting there any longer. We left in silence, and now he's holding the door of the exit for me.
The cold wind hits my cheeks as I step out the hotel. I bury my chin in my coat and look at Will. What do we do now. This conversation shouldn't end here.
"Can we walk for a little bit?" I ask.
"Sure," he nods.
"All right," I reply, relieved that he's willing to. And so we walk through Chicago's streets.
"So, let me get this straight," I decide to continue. "You don't want me to apologise. Yet… you seem unhappy with everything I've said so far." I glance to his side to see his response.
He shrugs, hands buried in the pocket of his coat. "Maybe that's just the way it is. Might not be satisfactory to you, but… it is what it is."
"No," I shake my head. I'm not going to accept that.
"What?"
"I don't like that." I stand still and look at him. "Do you?"
He shrugs, stares to the other side of my street, avoiding me. "It's been… conflicting."
"So can we please just talk about that?"
"Come on," he says and gestures to start walking again. We're silent for a minute before he speaks again.
"Maybe you were right. Maybe it was a fantasy. But something had opened up between us. Or perhaps never even closed, and the least it deserved was a conversation. A fair chance…"
He's right.
"… But you had already decided for us." he continues. "You made me believe that we would figure it out together. So you tricked me. You broke my trust and now you can prove to yourself that it didn't work. Because clearly, we can barely have a conversation."
That hurts. I stop my steps. "Will, that was never the intention."
He scoffs. "It certainly gave you an easy way out of… us. I get we were complicated."
"No, Will, listen," I place hand on his arm.
He looks at my hand, then straight into my eyes. He's clearly surprised by my touch. Maybe I am as well. My heart skips a beat as we stand there.
"I was starting to fall in love with you again," I say. I'm taken aback by my own honesty.
His eyes tell me he didn't expect me to say that.
"I didn't know how to get… past it." My voice breaks when I say that. "Because I couldn't… give you what you wanted."
Our eyes are still locked.
"I wasn't in a good place. The governorship… it was a strait-jacket I couldn't get off. And the backstabbing amongst the partners, the competition within the fourth years… I was hitting walls wherever I turned. I couldn't breathe. And I needed to break away from it all. To make a decision for me, and not for anyone else. Not for you, or for Peter, or my children. So that's what I did. I had to. And I know I hurt you, but it wasn't the intention. I didn't want to trick you into anything."
He swallows. Stares at me. Then I feel his hand on mine, a gentle squeeze. I feel a shiver run down my spine as he does. "Okay," he nods softly. Then he lets go.
"It's getting cold," he says.
It wasn't enough, I realize. It was honest, but I didn't say everything. And now I blew my chance.
"Maybe it's time to go," I just respond.
He looks around. "Yeah."
His phone buzzes. I see him read a text. He scoffs, shaking his head. Bad news, apparently.
As we head back, I realise my car is around the corner. "Will, I'll take a left here. My car, is here."
"What, why?" He looks up from his phone and puts it back in his pocket.
I open my mouth but say nothing. I said enough already.
"Is that about the garage?" He asks. He knows me too well.
"Yeah," I try to respond casually as I look for my keys in the pocket of my coat.
"You know what. Do you have somewhere else to be?"
I look up to him, a bit surprised. "What?"
"Meeting got cancelled," he explains. "So, do you?"
I shake my head.
"Then's let go over there." He points to a bar at the side of the road. "Come on, one drink."
Thank you for reading and for sticking to this story after all those years!
(Preview for next chapter: And to the bar they went...)