A/N: I won't apologize (for the one-hundred-and-eighty-millionth time) for taking so long to update from the risk of continuously sounding like a broken record. Though, however, I will tell you that this chapter has been an internal battle since I typed the first draft. Even now, after posting, it still has me puzzled. I just hope you all (for the few still reading) can overlook my internal conflicts and enjoy getting to see a different and deeper scope of Peter! :)

Week Four: Peter

*Knock-Knock*

Adam's head jerked in the direction of the door at the rhythmic familiar sound. Sitting up straighter in the mahogany wingback executive chair, his eyes shot to the clock mounted on the opposite wall above the bookshelf. It was his wife's idea to position it there. Frankly, he thought it was foolish and could have done without a physical clock in the room. But marriage was about compromise. A unifying happy-medium which flourished outside the realms of sacred vows and into both person's work environments, and especially at home. That domineering relationship lingered and exuded it's influence over a spouse whether they willingly acknowledged it or not.

Noting the ten minutes he still had before his next appointment, he swiveled his seat in the direction of the entrance.

"Hang on, sweetheart," he spoke into the receiver. Pulling the phone from his ear, he held it against his chest, muffling all possible sounds the recipient may pick up on. "Camila, I'll be ready in ten minutes!"

Instead of receiving the expected response, laden eyes filled with curiosity watched the door slowly open to reveal a sheepish Peter, his head peeking through the doorway.

"Ah, it's me, not Camila." He suppressed a chuckle at the surprised look on Adam's face. "Your assistant wasn't at her desk so I decided to come on back. I know I'm early, but I can wait outside until you're ready."

Adam shook his head profusely. "No need. Come on in. Just pardon me for a second while I finish my phone call."

He nodded. "Take your time."

Peter closed the door and silenced his cellphone as he tucked it away in his breast pocket and strode towards the familiar couch. Plopping down in his usual spot, he made himself comfortable along the tufted cushion while waiting for Adam to finish his call. In between quieting his own thoughts and blocking out his therapist hushed conversation with whom he assumed was a woman, his eyes gravitated to the empty space on the couch beside him. For a reason he couldn't explain, he expected her to be sitting there. Regardless if she would have been poised and indignant while staring straight ahead, down at her phone, or flat out refusing to acknowledge his presence, she would have been there. They would have been here together.

Then it hit him. It all hit home for him. Like the winning home run of the world series had landed right into his gut.

He missed her. He missed her presence. Even though their relationship was strained and in a desideratum of an emotional restoration. Yes, it was his decision for an individual session, but not having her here was oddly difficult to grasp in this moment. He would be forced to face his faults. There would be no dodging what Adam spieled his way or any one else to point fingers at on this couch. He didn't have her whispered accusations or pained eyes to derail him from assessing the heart of the matter. It was just him. And the longer he sat on this couch and stared at her empty spot, he began to wonder how life would be if they couldn't fix their marriage. Could he truly envision a life without her? Without seeing their children daily? The thought caused him to look away in fear.

Alicia was his driving force—his carpe diem. She always had been. The barren space along the couch right now solidified that. About to reach out his hand and confirm his daunting realization, did Adam's voice break his train of thought.

"I apologize. My wife and I talk during my lunch hour. She got a little excited about our grandchildren visiting this weekend."

Peter smiled warmly. "No problem. I know how that is—well, at least I remember how that was. A wife calling in the middle of the day while you're at work. You think she's calling about a simple question, and then it turns into an hour long conversation ending with you promising to fix things around the house you said you would do the week before."

Adam chuckled lightly as he grabbed his notepad and walked towards his designated chair. "The funny thing is, I now look forward to her calls. I would get worried if they were shorter than five minutes."

Glancing to the unoccupied space of the sofa beside him, the smile faded from his face as he whispered, "Yeah."

"But," Peter pivoted his head back in his direction, "I do thank you for being on time."

Nodding, he unbuttoned his blazer and propped his arm along the shoulder of the chair as he recalled the doctor's puzzled expression when he opened the door.

"I guess your assistant forgot to mention that it would be just me today."

"No. She did. About an hour ago," he said with a laugh as he settled within his seat. "The spontaneity of the change still has me a bit dumbfounded, I will admit."

"I figured Alicia could use a break and…I wanted to get some insight on myself."

Adam reclined against the back of the chair, crossed his legs and readjusted his expensive frames on the bridge of his nose. "Alicia agreed to this? She is on board with you having a one-on-one session?"

He nodded adamantly. "Oh, yeah. I asked her beforehand. She's fine with it."

"I see." Adam flipped to a freshly lined page and clicked his pen, poising the ballpoint tip against the crisp paper. "So, tell me. Why the sudden switch? What's going on?"

"Nothing. I…" Peter smoothed a hand down his creased trousers as he struggled to find the right words. "I-I had some time last week to think. About our sessions, about the time I've spent with my children, and about Alicia." He raked a hand through his hair. "In our sessions, a lot of my faults were brought to light. Some I never realized I had. I guess I just wanted to understand them before moving forward."

Adam leaned his head to the side as he stared at his patient in a look of perplexity. "And what faults might those be?"

Peter pursed his lips and begrudgingly responded. "I guess the most obvious. Infidelity. Then…my jealously." He shrugged. "Those were the main two that came to mind."

Adam narrowed his eyes. "You never considered yourself jealous, or capable of committing infidelity?"

"Well, I think like every other red-blooded American man, I'm just as possessive of my wife as any husband would be." He stared long and hard at Adam, his eyes squinting. "Aren't you possessive of your wife? Wouldn't you feel jealous if you thought another man was looking at her suggestively, or trying to stake a claim on your territory?"

Adam recognized the instant denial and planned to shut it down before it had time to fester. His patient already deflecting with examples of others and even going so far as equating him into the comparison, told him that Peter still had not fully accepted any of his faults, especially in regards to his marriage.

"This is not about me or my marriage, Peter. And we are also not talking about the fifty-percent of the population that is composed of married men nor the other sixty-percent that have committed infidelity. This is about you."

Peter sighed and closed his eyes in defeat. "I know."

"Do you?" Adam asked with an air of suspicion. Shifting within his chair, he inhaled deeply and folded his hands to rest within his lap. "I am not pointing fingers, here. That is not the goal of an individual session nor how I conduct these sessions."

"I'm fully aware of that. I had a few personal therapy sessions in prison. I think about it now and it's almost crazy I volunteered to do that," he said with a smirk. "It was my mental escape for when my family wasn't visiting or when I was tired of sitting in my cell and reading, or getting to know Chicago's most illustrious mafia boss. I guess however enlightening those forty-five minutes were once a week, it was never rewarding to get stripped as man."

Adam jotted down this information. That was a confession he could have never anticipated. The most headstrong spouse in the Florrick's marriage was actually the first in attempting to fix it. He was still a little befuddled.

"Well, regardless of how your therapist handled those sessions while incarcerated, I want to assure you that my purpose is not to 'strip' you, Peter. I simply aim for you to understand those faults you acknowledged as well as discuss your actions in relation to the current state of your marriage. Granted, you and Alicia both played a part. But again, we are talking about you today."

Peter stared at him speechless. The disagreeing remark he was ready to spout froze on the tip of his tongue. No matter how hard it was to ignore and process Adam's words, he couldn't deny it was all true. There wasn't anything for him to hide behind. He wanted this. It was time to face the music and for the first time, he was second guessing that choice.

"The infidelity," Adam began as he read from his notes. "It seems to be the dead ringer for you two. Although we can discuss this in more detail when Alicia is present during your next session, let's explore that now for a bit. Would you be okay with that?"

Peter sat up straighter and nodded affirmatively. "Alright."

Resting his pen in the creased binding of the notepad, Adam took a few seconds and assessed the tall, broad shouldered, cunning attorney clothed in a navy, tailored suit sitting patiently on his couch while he toyed over which approach would be the most effective in broaching this topic. For whatever method he chose, being met with resilience was an unavoidable outcome he was certain.

"What led you down that path?"

"I…I don't know. To this day, I'm still unsure. Back then, life was perfect at home. I had a beautiful wife, two great kids, we were living in our dream home and I had attained a career I had wanted for a long time."

"But something was missing?"

Peter pursed his lips and shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe?"

Adam watched him closely, noted the puzzled look on his face. He couldn't help but wonder if there was an esoteric reason behind Peter's actions and if he even felt a shred of self-awareness to this day in regards to the damage he had done. Had he truly been riding on the coattails of power, never thinking it would end? Had he been so far gone in the adaptation of his dream career that he suffered from a chronic but classic case of Hedonic Treadmill, allowing his family to fade into the background until he was finished being the most powerful attorney—to the hilt—in his state?

Propping his elbow along the arm of the chair, Adam braced his fist against his cheek as he meditated on their past sessions for a moment.

"Okay, let's go with the idea that something was missing at home. Would you say that you had extramarital affairs with Amber and Kalinda from not receiving sexual attention from your wife or was it more of seeking a rare…sexual pleasure? Fulfillment of a fetish, so to speak."

Peter gazed into the ceiling as he weighed out the infinite responses floating through his head. "I suppose I would say a combination of both."

Sighing, Adam shifted within his seat and took a quick glance at the time. This was going to be harder, and longer than he imagined. For someone who requested a one-on-one session, Peter was unpredictably tight-lipped. The slated hour would be tough if he kept this up. Thus, he decided to enlist a different tactic. One he knew the core of his patient always responded to without fail. It would be like wagging a bone in front of a dog.

"Did you ever fall out of love with Alicia?"

Peter's eyes shot to his. Adam immediately noticed how his eyes widened then narrowed, the sudden change in demeanor familiar. His defenses had risen even without him voicing it. He felt backed into a corner again, and was going to vehemently but strategically fight his way out, as he always had.

"No." He sat up straighter on the couch as the pulse in his neck increased, throbbing rapidly against the thin layer of skin. "I mean, yes. I…I don't know. I've always loved her. I probably will always love her. So I don't understand what you're getting at."

"I'm not necessarily getting at anything. I'm just attempting to help us both probe the mindset behind your infidelity. You seem hesitant to discuss it now just as you are when Alicia brings it up. Perhaps if we arrived at some understanding today, it can help both of you move past that."

At the mention of his wife, Peter recalled the devastating hurt that filled her eyes once he confirmed the allegations were true. He had never seen her more thrown or shocked than in that moment. Her face flushed a ghostly white as a waterfall of tears filled her eyes. She begged him repeatedly to say it wasn't true. It was at his admission did the dam burst and tears cascaded down her face as her body-wrenching cries filled the air. The sound of him breaking her heart, broke his; on that day, he broke her. So of course he never wanted to openly talk about his infidelity. For each time it was mentioned, they both had to relive that painful moment over and over again.

They never moved past that. She never moved past it.

"I guess," he started slowly, "I felt invincible then. I thought I could take a ride on the wild side and…get away with it."

Adam folded his hands to rest over his mouth. He inhaled deeply and pondered his answer for a moment.

"Get away with what, exactly?"

"Being the middle man in a career I worked years to achieve and enjoying the rewards of my not so noble actions."

"Which were?"

Peter looked at him, confusion plastered over every inch of his face. "What do you mean? Which was what?"

"What were the rewards that you enjoyed?"

He mulled over his question for a minute. "Money. Power." His penitent gaze shifted to the floor then met Adam's eyes once more. "Women."

"Did you receive illicit forms of money in exchange for power?"

Peter exhaled slowly. "That's where things got fuzzy but…yes." He passed a stressed hand over his face, fighting the internal battle to remain truthful. "Yes, on occasion."

"Hence, your incarceration which was later overturned?"

Adam only received a nod in response. Flipping back a couple of pages in his notebook, he stroked his chin as he kept his head down, scouring his notes. "And those 'women'. They were Amber Madison and…" he glanced down at the page, "Kalinda, correct?"

"Yes."

Adam was on to his short-answers. His attitude usually took the same turn south when Alicia was the one questioning him in this arena.

"That was all? No others?"

Peter's neck turned sharply in his direction. "No," he said through gritted teeth.

"So, it was an overflow of money and an increase in power and respect that made you feel inferior. And by sleeping with these women…you believed there wouldn't be any repercussions?"

Peter flinched at the shot fired. The heavy sigh and darkened tone of his eyes signaled to both men that buttons were indeed being pushed. But he wouldn't strike back just yet.

"No. I never said that."

"I know. You're not really sharing anything on this topic, Peter. Why are you withholding?"

He sighed as he shifted his feet. "I didn't think I was."

Another diffusion of responsibility, Adam noted. Not once, since Peter admitted he had faults, would he admit to said faults. His mind drifted to the frowned upon and eschewed theoretical belief shunned by many psychologists: the Freudian Psychoanalytic approach. Famed psychologist Sigmund Freud's main conviction that human's go through five stages of development stemming from the infantile age on into adulthood, rang true for him in this moment. He couldn't help but wonder about Peter's childhood. Had there been some indications or reinforcement of similar actions which in turn led him to succumb to these sexual and political extractions that were seemingly uncharacteristic of the husband who sat with his wife on that couch for three weeks now? The dismantling personality between the desperate but somewhat admitted husband and shattered but esteemed man, threw him for a loop.

"Are you an only child?" Adam asked after a pregnant pause.

Peter's face contorted into a picture of dubiety at the shift in questioning as he licked his lips and folded his arms across his chest. Just what was on Dr. Lewis' agenda?

"No. I have an older sister," he reluctantly responded.

"Ahh, so you are the baby boy."

He shrugged again.

"Tell me. As a child, were you able to get away with things easily? Able to, work your way in and out of situations that weren't necessarily right? Perhaps even gain the upper hand over your older sister?"

He readily agreed. "Sure. My father always said I had a 'respectfully persuasive and charismatic manner'. He taught me to never take no for an answer and when an opportunity struck, take it."

Adam heard the change in his voice when he spoke of his father, heard the boast of pride that filled his tone along with a veil of reminisce, which coated his eyes. He also didn't fail to notice how he didn't hesitate to admit to a wrong doing, but to also instantly justify that wrong doing from receiving praise.

"Were you close with your father?"

"Yeah. We were pretty close."

"I gather he was someone that you admired greatly?"

"Very much." Peter leaned back against the chair and folded is arms over his chest. "He was a highly respected circuit court judge during his tenure. His job kept him away from home at times but, my mother, sister and I understood his sacrifice. Five out of seven nights of the week, he was home, so we didn't complain much. He told me on the day that I got married to not be afraid to make sacrifices to support my family."

"Is that what you thought you were doing during your first incumbency as a State's Attorney?"

Peter caught the double meaning and frowned. "No." He smoothed a hand down his neck. "I guess…I guess since I saw my father doing certain things, I figured I could, too. I was cut from the same cloth, so why not?" He laughed as he looked to Adam. "Funny thing is I watched him do some things I didn't approve of to our family. I would hear my mother cry at night…heard their heated arguments when he came home."

"Did you ever confront him about what you heard?"

"Sure. Many times. He always said my mother was overreacting and that he worked hard to support our family. It wasn't until I was in college that I discovered he had a mistress for nearly a decade." He sighed. "I swore I would never do that to Alicia. That I would never hurt her that way. I never wanted my parents marriage."

"Is that what you think you have now?"

"No. At least I don't think so." Two years of dating plus a blinding seventeen-years of their marriage crossed his mind. "I did what I did because I let everything get to my head. When I had my affairs, Alicia and I had not…had sex in months. I was hurting. My wife was practically unavailable. I suppose…I wanted an out. I wanted to feel like a man again. I guess I just got caught up in it all. It was an escape from home. And somewhere in the back of mind, I thought if my father did the same and got away with it, I could as well."

"That's an interesting comparison. Even at your adult age." Adam made another note before focusing back on him. "Is your father still alive?"

"No. He died ten years ago."

"And your parents were still married when he died?"

"Yes." He averted his eyes towards the bay window, his voice adapting a reminiscent tone. "My mother never cried at the funeral. I always wondered why she stayed, why she remained in a marriage that was practically dead." Exhaling a breath, he cracked his knuckles as he glanced to the empty space beside him for the umpteenth time. The action didn't go unnoticed by Adam. "I often wonder if that's what Alicia is doing…"

Adam removed his glasses as he carefully chose his words. "For some people, hope is what keeps them going and allows them to remain in unappealing situations. Despite all of the pain, all of the misfortune and the unfathomable, these terminally optimistic individuals keep a steadfast vigil of hope that someday, things will go back to how they were before life intervened. That it will all be fixed. Much like I think you and Alicia believe."

Peter digested his words. "You think we're fixable?"

"I believe anyone who makes a conscious choice to walk through my door is 'fixable'," he said with a gentle smile.

"How long do you think it will be before we're 'fixed'?"

"That I can't say. Like you, I can only take it one week at a time. And when you both arrive at some conclusion in regards to your marriage, then you will be," he smiled gently, " fixed."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Peter slouched further into the seat as he reflected on the memories of he and his wife steadily playing in his head. "Do you know one of the main reasons why I fell in love with her?"

"No. Tell me." Adam watched him closely, nothing short of intrigued. His defenses had finally fallen—the real Peter Florrick was now before him.

"She was soft spoken, but she spoke with meaning. She made me listen, made me give my undivided attention. I realized early on that I could talk to her. About any and all things. And that she wasn't just another pretty face or some woman I had fallen in love with, but that she was my partner. In everything." He sighed heavily. "When she had her miscarriages, I lost that. I lost my partner."

Adam licked his lips as his brows furrowed. "Did you ever try to…gain her back?"

"How could I? She was in some sort of comatose state for weeks."

"Even with your wife being in that state, you continued going to work…and engaging with these women?"

Peter sat up straighter, his chest beginning to visibly rise and fall beneath his blazer. Adam had entered an unchartered domain.

"I had to work. I was the breadwinner; I provided for our family. It wasn't an option not to work!"

Adam realized what he was doing again—deflecting. And not only deflecting, but justifying his wrongdoings with a logical reason.

"So, you felt that it was okay? Is that what you're telling me?"

Peter laughed in disbelief. "I thought you weren't going to point fingers."

"I'm not. I'm trying to get you to understand and see your faults. I'm a bit perplexed in how you can attest to them, but it's almost as if that's never enough. You must justify them in return. Apart of overcoming these obstacles in a relationship, is being able to admit when you're wrong. No justifications involved. Why can't you seem to do that?"

Peter scooted closer to the edge of the seat and leaned forward.

"Are you telling me I'm wrong? That my being here, that my repeating and admitting to my faults is not enough?"

"Repeating a statement into belief is like…a pathological liar confessing to a falsehood. However, admitting and accepting are two different entities."

Peter grinned his signature dubious cheshire grin as he checked the time. "So you're saying I'm wrong and that unless I'm," he looked up into the ceiling, "reborn, Alicia and I don't have a chance?"

Adam sighed, knowing he was searching for him to give the familiar praise his father often provided to support his wrongdoing. Saying sorry, but knowing why he was sorry was still a notion he had not yet grasped.

"Peter, I'm not one to tell you you're right or wrong."

"But you're not saying if I'm right or wrong."

"Is that what you want to hear? So that you can effectively justify yourself to Alicia?"

Dropping his head, he exhaled several breaths as he suddenly rose from the couch. Buttoning his blazer, he stared down at Adam, his gaze threatening. "I think I should go. I have a meeting in thirty minutes, and my hour is basically up."

Adam closed his notepad and tucked it under his arm as he too rose from his seat and stared him square in the eye.

"Peter, I hope you don't feel as if I was…attacking you."

"No, it's alright," he said as he strode towards the door. Adam removed his glasses and shook his head in remorse. "Therapy is all about facing your true self, right? Facing those inner demons."

"You're not the only one. Everyone has demons. Some they will never be ready to confront."

"Guess I fall into that category." Reaching for the doorknob, he turned to Adam. "Was that my first step in admitting and accepting?"

Adam overlooked his sarcasm as he neared his position by the door. "Peter, I would like to have another one-on-one session with you. I think we touched on some gray areas, and there's a lot more ground to explore."

Opening the door, he flashed him a wry smile as he prepared to walk from the room. "Thank you for your time, Dr. Lewis. Have a good day."

As he watched his retreat, Adam wondered how he would not only get Peter to eventually admit and accept to his faults, but how Alicia would perform in that department as well. If his hunch was right, she would be far worse. Much worse than he was ready for.