(Present Day—Spring 2011)

Week One

They stood on opposite sides in the elevator, a grave and telling distance between them. Neither bothered saying a word, let alone acknowledging the other after they exchanged courteous hellos. Peter was pressed against the wood grain, brushed gold panel with his hands buried in his pockets as he watched the floor numbers steadily climb. His wife stood to his right eagerly responding to emails on her phone, never daring to look his way.

It was their first day of marriage therapy and neither was thrilled. After a fight about a month ago, which left them at a crossroad, Peter truly thought they were beyond repair this time around. Alicia discovering that he had an affair with Kalinda seemed to be the last blow. It was as if she was his punching bag and he had finally taken the last hit, causing her to crumble to the ground in defeat. Two days after she pleaded with him to 'say something to make her fall in love with him again', did she file for legal separation.

That was a move he didn't see coming.

When he arrived to her apartment to pick up Zach and Grace one Friday for the weekend—per the fine print of their separation—shock was an understatement when she invited him in to talk.

She wanted to know where they were going from here, whether they really had a shot at being married, truly married, again. The mention of divorce never made it into her list of scenarios. And he honestly didn't have a concrete answer for her other than he didn't want to lose her and counseling was the only solution that seemed plausible. It took her finishing her glass of wine and seeming to think her life through every failed situation while he quietly watched with baited breath, before she agreed. Thus, they were now en route to the office of renowned marriage psychotherapist, Dr. Adam Lewis.

The elevator cab slowed to a stop on the fiftieth floor in the commercial high-rise building, the gold paneled doors finally opening. Alicia couldn't exit fast enough.

He walked behind her, inhaling a deep breath. What would happen within their next scheduled hour and a half, he didn't know. But the fact that she actually arrived said enough.

"Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Florrick," beamed the receptionist once they rounded the corner. "You are right on time."

Peter's eyes met those of the young receptionist, who he assumed was of some Latin heritage. She was attractive. Veryattractive. Her caramel skin, long dark hair and slight accent certainly peaked his interest.

"You can actually go on in. Dr. Lewis is ready for you."

He was careful to politely nod and offer a thank you, not letting his gaze linger. Catching the watchful eyes of his wife observing him over her shoulder, he was relieved that he was indeed on his best behavior. He was certain he had passed her little test: looking, but barely looking. Her simple movement of walking up to their therapist door and waiting for him spoke volumes.

"Mr. and Mrs. Florrick," said their therapist as they stood within the doorway. "Welcome."

They slowly walked into Dr. Lewis' office, taking a minute to linger and ingest the modern, but homey surroundings. Peter slowly shut the door and came to stand beside Alicia as they continued to fully partake in the place they would be revealing their inner most feelings.

Dr. Lewis' space was minimally decorated. A frosted glass bookshelf, filled with psychological books and numerous awards, covered the right wall. Then an L-shaped glass desk that served as his command center, sat to the left, against the narrow floor-to-ceiling windows, leaving a very open and vast space for the sitting area, or what he liked to call, the 'Feng Shui area'. Beginning at the door and panning to the opposite end of the bookshelf, it composed of a long slate grey cushioned couch, matching love seat, an expensive looking antique coffee table, imported oriental rug all tied in with a modest brown, leather executive chair for their therapist. Positioned right across from the couch. Dead centered.

Alicia gave it all a one-over for the last time, settling on the fact that while it was a bit eccentric and a little cozy, it wasn't overly done.

Dr. Lewis stepped down from the two-lighted steps that led from his desk towards the seating area, and walked over to them, extending out a hand towards the couch, hoping to steer them away from the door.

"Please, have a seat," he said with a gentle smile.

Peter was first to position himself on one end of the surprisingly comfortable sofa as she sat on the other. A glacial breadth between them. Just like in the elevator.

Adam immediately took note. Adjusting his black, thin-framed glasses on his face, he gripped a pen and his trusty leather bound notepad and sat in the designated chair across from them.

A moment of silence passed between the three as he took this predicted cumbersome silence to observe their body language. His trained eyes scrutinized the way Peter sat with his legs gapped open and hands clasped in his lap, while his shoulders were relaxed against the back of the couch. Although minimal, each were a clear sign that he felt positive about being here, that he was open to the experience, despite the continental distance he and had his wife had established on the furniture.

Adam's grey eyes focused back on the wife. Ah, wives were never easy patients. Nearly seventeen years in this field told him that she would be a tough cookie to crack. From the moment she walked into the door, he knew he had his work cut out for him.

Alicia remained seated as far from her husband as possible, almost as if she was attempting to bury herself in the corner of the seat, while her legs remained tightly crossed and body angled slightly towards the door with her feet positioned away from her husband.

Clearly, she didn't want to be here.

Adam's smooth baritone voice broke the still silence. "I hope you didn't have much trouble finding the office. This building is fairly new."

"Not at all. It was easy to find," said Peter. "Also, thank you for seeing us on such short notice."

He nodded. "Not a problem."

His gaze switched to Alicia again, wondering if she had anything to add. Her mouth was locked tight in a thin line, almost as if her lips were sewn shut. She stared at him as if she was a student in class, waiting to be called upon to speak.

"Ah, well, so that I ensure to make most of the hour and a half you are paying me a ridiculous amount for, I guess we can break the obvious, awkward silence and start with why you are here."

Peter offered a dry smile at his joke while Alicia continued to lack any emotion.

"I am aware of some of your history given what was shown in the press, and during our brief consultation, Peter." He shifted within the seat. "But I want you to know, we can spend as much time as we need getting to the root of the matter as to why you have sought my help."

He glanced at both of them, hoping they understood, specifically Alicia. His veteran eyes noticed that she was still, completely closed off.

Of the six minutes and counting they'd been in the room, he could already tell this couple fit the mold of a small group of patient's he had compiled a study on over the years from his practice. They were the prime example of a pair that were tensely mute, began each session like the calm before the storm. That when they least expected—or he expected—they would unleash layers upon layers of suppressed emotion they never knew either had buried.

Adam was positive that was the case for the Florricks. They were like strangers on his couch. Complete strangers who had lost the ability to speak. He briefly wondered if this had been their first encounter since he reserved a spot for them last week.

Folding his hands to rest beneath his chin, he inhaled a deep breath and looked at the individual who seemed to be aware as to why he was here.

"Why don't we begin by talking about what led you to seek counseling. Peter, would you like to start?"

Alicia looked to her husband for the first time since they entered the room. The sudden movement didn't go unnoticed by their doctor.

Peter nodded. "Alright." Clasping his hand together, he relaxed back into the hand-woven European fabric and pursed his lips. "I guess…I wanted us to try counseling because I…" He took a moment to find the right words. "I want to save my—our marriage."

"Is it in jeopardy of dissolving right now?" Adam gently prodded.

"Maybe." He looked to Alicia briefly. "Well, no…but it's not exactly perfect."

"No relationship is perfect."

Peter's broad shoulders slumped back against the chair. "As of right now, we're separated."

Adam nodded slowly as he shifted his gaze between the two of them. "How long have you been separated?"

"About two months now."

"And how has that been going?"

Peter sighed deeply. "Good enough. We split our time between the kids pretty well. They don't seem to have an issue with it."

"Your children." Adam titled his head to the side as he rubbed his index finger up and down his temple. "I recall during our phone conversation you mentioning you have two teenagers. Right?"

"Yes. Their names are Zach and Grace."

"How have Zach and Grace been affected by your separation?"

Peter looked to Alicia, wondering if he should continue on by himself. He knew she was hesitant to come here and knew she wasn't a person to openly discuss her feelings with strangers, but he was beginning to feel a little ridiculous doing all the talking.

"They've been handling it well. They understand we're trying to work through our problems. And hopefully live as a family again."

Adam pressed index fingers together and slid them up and down the bridge of his nose, his eyes focused on Alicia now. "Mrs. Florrick, is it alright if I call you Alicia?"

"Yes," she said softly.

Ah, she can speak!

"Okay, Alicia. Is that what you want as well? To eventually live in one household again?"

She shifted her eyes down to her lap and began twirling her wedding ring. "I don't know."

He watched her fiddle with the band, avoiding meeting his gaze at all cost.

"Why are you unsure? Do you not want to work through the issues in your marriage with your husband?"

He needed to know what he was dealing with here. His attempt at breaking the ice wasn't going as well as planned. Her presence weighed a significant value, but it was her conscious that would be the hardest nut to crack. It was obvious she didn't want to be here and he just wanted to know, whether it was in the form of a single syllabled word or a monologue, why she chose to come.

"I don't know what I want for Peter and me."

"But, you do not want to divorce?"

She reluctantly met his gaze. The D-word seemed to strike a match beneath her. Her eyes widened and feet shifted along the imported rug.

"No."

"I think sometimes you do," Peter said, laying his arm flat along the chair of the sofa. She glared at him.

"Wouldn't that make you happy?" she snarled.

"No, it actually wouldn't, Alicia. I love you and I've changed. For some reason, you can't understand that."

She bit the inside of her cheek as she repressed herself from engaging with him further. She didn't want to argue.

Adam digested their interaction, fascinated. "Peter, you mentioned you changed. Would you like to elaborate on that?"

He rubbed the bottom of his lip as he thought long and hard. "I guess I could start by saying I think we went wrong when I cheated. Actually, no. It was long before that. So in some ways, yes, I was a different man then."

"How so?"

"Well, I had the power of the state's attorney office and, at times felt indestructible. Unfortunately I also got involved in things that I shouldn't have."

Alicia closed her eyes and shook her head.

"I did stupid things, among them being betraying my marriage vows."

"Were you not always this type of man? A man who relished in the power of his position?"

He smirked as he rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think I was."

Adam twirled the ballpoint pen between his fingers as he looked to Alicia again.

"Alicia? Do you agree with Peter's analysis of himself?

She glanced at her husband. "No."

He leaned back against the leather, trying not to smile once he saw Peter's head whip around to face her. Finally, they were getting somewhere.

"What do you mean, no?"

"You weren't always a man who abused the powers of his office to get what he wanted."

"But I was when I paid for a prostitute and slept with Kalinda. That's what you want to say, right?"

"I'm not pointing blame here, Peter. I simply answered the question."

He laughed in disbelief. "Tell me something. When didyou think I changed into this man who 'abused his powers of office to get what he wanted'? I'm sure it's not the time when I basically got your brother off scot-free from facing felony charges for a drug possession."

She knew he was baiting her. Looking away from him, she puffed out a breath as she tried to ignore the wrath that was waiting to be unleashed, dangerously bubbling beneath the surface like a ticking bomb. Uncrossing her legs, she tucked her hair behind her ears and stared down into her lap.

Writing a few quick notes, Adam relaxed further into his chair as a satisfied smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.

Now, they had begun therapy.