A/N: Shouting a huge thanks to my Kokes for a productive brainstorming session that birthed this chapter. It is dedicated to you! And hope everyone enjoys this chapter and what's to come!

The Day After

Alicia lay on her side, her head supported by way of her elbow, relishing in the lazy waves of gratitude pumping through her veins. She readjusted the rumpled, supima sateen sheets loosely covering her bare body as she watched Peter pace back and forth in front of her vanity. He was clothed in nothing more than his boxers while trying his best not to yell into the phone. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't thought to check her own phone since they entered her bedroom over an hour ago. Matter of fact, she didn't even know where the device—that was usually glued to her palm—was. And for once, didn't care.

She breathed a contented sigh and picked a grape from the small bowl nestled in front of her, popping a piece of the fruit into her mouth, resuming a study of her husband. He was agitated. All the usual indicators were now showing themselves. His voice was rising by the seconds and he continually raked a hand through his hair, slightly pulling. A stark contrast to the man that called her a few hours ago offering a tempting afternoon proposition.

Leaning back to look behind her, she checked the time on her nightstand. It was early afternoon—two o'clock. She was still in slight disbelief she succumbed to his proposal earlier this morning when he called her at work.

"Busy?" he asked.

"Maybe. What's going on?"

"Take the rest of the day off and spend it with me."

She paused highlighting a document she was reviewing. "What?"

"My schedule for the remainder of the day is oddly free. So spend the day with me."

"Peter," she swiveled around in her chair, her voice lowering with remorse, "I can't. I have a stack of documents I need to review before a hearing on Monday."

"Alright, I'll make it easier. How about just the afternoon?"

Her eyes trailed down the length of her body as their activities of this morning came to mind. She had an inkling he'd mapped this proposed afternoon to mirror how they spent the dawn hours.

"And what do you have planned for the afternoon?"

"Come on, babe, don't question these things. Just say yes. I can almost see that smile through the phone." She crossed her legs as a wide grin spread across her face. "I've been thinking about you since you left this morning."

Her heartbeat pitter-pattered. "I've been thinking about you, too," she whispered. It was true. She was practically in a daze during two prior meetings.

"Then let's put our thoughts to rest. Meet me at your place in an hour."

It didn't take much more coaxing for her to give in. Instead of the afternoon, she decided to take the rest of the day off. She didn't know why, but after she hung up with him, the little jolts tingling down her limbs inclined her to placate her usual worries and do something out of her norm. When she informed Will she needed the rest of the day to attend to family matters, she felt awful lying to his face, and more so during the entire drive to her apartment. But when she stepped over the threshold to find Peter waiting by the door with his white dress shirt unbuttoned and the top button on his trousers undone, the prior moments of fret banished from her mind. Every coherent thought further evaporated when he picked her up into his arms and led them into the bedroom for early afternoon lovemaking.

"Cary, we can't use that evidence…no, it'll come back to bite us."

He glanced her way, flashing a look of regret while still tugging at his hair. She popped another grape into her mouth as her hooded eyes focused on his messy mane, remembering how moments ago she nearly pulled strands from his scalp when he selflessly cemented his lips between her legs.

There was something about having sex without the risk of kids nearby that made it all feel sexier. 'A reckless abandon', she recalled one of the new wives—that moved into their Highland Park neighborhood—saying years ago. They sat in a circle in her living room, sipping tea and munching on finger sandwiches while listening to the young woman boast about the endless uninterrupted time she had with her husband. "Yeah, you have all that time because you don't have any kids!" one of the women yelled. Alicia smirked at the weight of the memory, thinking that after being married for nearly two decades and with two children almost out of the house, she was finally understanding the 'reckless abandon'.

She couldn't put her finger on it, but the sex this time around was just better. Everything was simply…better. Perhaps she did take their routine back then for granted. Twice a week, sometimes three. It felt like enough. Now, after barely a day, she couldn't get enough. Part of her likened it to an article she read on a whim about women having a sexual awakening in their forties. 'Your vagina wakes up!' it said. Even going so forth to note how energy levels were restored from having more sound sleep, that children were no longer attached to the mother's hip, allowing them repossession of their bodies, et cetera.

All she read might be true. But there was more. The past two years and especially the last six months, felt like more. And quite frankly, she yearned for more.

She eyed him again, her gaze coming to a brief halt on the black material covering his lower half before floating up his torso, shamelessly appreciating his fine physique. His scent permeated her nostrils; more than likely entwined in her dark locks and stamped across her flushed skin. It was the savor of home.

"Sorry. Turning this off for the rest of the day," he said, setting his phone down on the vanity tabletop.

She smiled. "No apologies needed. You've already done your duty here, Mr. State's Attorney."

He snickered upon seeing her coy smile and pressed his fists then knees into the mattress before crawling on all fours up her body.

"Oh, but I'm just getting started."

Laughing, she caught the bowl of grapes before it spilled over, placing it on the nightstand.

"I need a break," she said, quickly kissing him.

His flicked a finger at the top of the sheet tucked around her chest. "You sure?" He looked behind him, noting the door slightly ajar.

"Yes," she drawled.

"I suppose rest is permitted. Hey, where's Owen?" He turned back to her, wiggling his brows. "I hope he's not coming back anytime soon."

Smiling, she watched as he positioned himself beside her, relaxing onto his back.

"He mentioned he would be at the university he used to teach at most of the day." She reached for a pillow to shore up beneath her head and reclined back onto her side, facing him. "If I knew he would be here, I would have suggested your apartment."

He drummed his fingers along his chest as he stared into the ceiling. "Ahh."

"I'm worried about him."

He peered up at her. "Why?"

"He's seemed a little broken since he got back. He's different. I can tell he's trying to be his usual, upbeat self but he's hurting. I think Kevin is his one great love and now their future is more than likely still uncertain."

"What happened, again?"

She stared at his profile, almost not wanting to speak the words that followed.

"Owen cheated."

A pregnant paused passed between them. He didn't dare meet her gaze, instead felt its intensity burning through his cheeks. She continued to look at him, trying to ignore the usual ache that constricted around her heart at the shadowed reminder.

"Well," he began, cautiously, "I'm sure his matters of the heart will work itself out. Always does." He reached over for one of her hands and linked their fingers, bringing their joined fist to rest on his chest. "We're proof of that."

"Yes, but we've worked hard and had help getting here, Peter."

"Right. But who knows, he might follow a similar path. Don't worry, okay? He'll be fine and we'll be fine. Especially as we press forward. We're solid and there's nothing else lingering in the past."

She wanted to pull her hand away at his words. Nothing else lingering in the past. Of all times, a certain 'something' that lingered, not necessarily in the past, but in the abyss of her conscience, resurfaced. A catalytic fault she purposely chose not to think about or disclose. The ignored guilt consequently began to gnaw away at her.

"I think we're over due for a vacation. What do you think?"

She didn't hear his question. She was miles away as her thoughts swarmed with a memory of a certain night from last year.

"Alicia?"

She snapped to attention. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

"I asked what you thought about a vacation. Which is clearly the last thing on your mind right now." He rolled over to face her. "What's the matter?"

Glancing down into his warm brown orbs, a part of her wanted to get lost in their sincerity. To enjoy what was left of the afternoon beneath these sheets. But after briefly mentioning Owen's infidelity and being reminded of Peter's, it was like a trigger fired, shooting her past actions to light.

She remembered the faint tickle from his stubble grazing the corners of her mouth. Remembered his hand resting on her lower back, an instant reminder that his touch was not familiar. That he was not hers, and she was not his. She backed away and fled, analyzing how it came to fruition during the journey home. When she entered the apartment, she pushed it into the trenches of her conscience. It was mostly innocent, she thought. Didn't even last a minute…

"What's going on in that head of yours?" He eased across the small space between them and ran a hand down her arm, bringing her back to the present.

"I-I was thinking about what you said. Nothing else lingering in the past."

"That's right." He moved closer, his eyes zoning in on her elongated neck. "There's nothing or no one else for you to worry about…" His mouth fixated back to her neck.

"I know." She closed her eyes and cupped the back of his head. "But, Peter—"

"But? Do I need to convince you?" He located the spot beneath her ear that was guaranteed to drive her insane.

In seconds, her concentration began to morph into putty. "No. Seriously, Peter…"

"We can talk later."

She allowed his affection for a few seconds more before seizing his hand just as it discreetly slipped beneath the sheets.

"Honey, wait...please," she mumbled against his mouth, struggling to focus.

Peter sighed, pressing his forehead on hers. "I love you, Alicia. I meant what I said before. I'll never hurt you again. I promise. I'm committed to only you."

Although simple, his statement hit home. Another subtle reminder that since they've gotten back together, his actions persisted to match every word he vowed. He laid everything on the table for them to pick a part until there was nothing left. And while she was mostly in that boat, and so ready to explore this new chapter, there was one thing in particular lingering she had not told him.

"I know…I know." She pulled back and stared into his eyes. "Which is why I want to tell you something." Her conscious began to weigh heavier on her heart, nearly causing her to second guess this impulse decision. It's only fair, she began to tell herself…

Realizing there was no hope in continuing what they were doing a minute ago, he recoiled back and propped up on a pillow, completely giving her his undivided attention.

"Alright. I'm listening."

Licking her lips, she pulled the sheets tighter across her chest and took in a deep breath.

"Keeping in this spirit of a fresh start and honesty…" Butterflies began to dance in her stomach causing her voice to tremble slightly when she spoke. "Going forward, I don't want anymore secrets between us."

His brows furrowed. "Alicia, I told you there was no one else—"

"No, not you."

His brows rose as he readjusted himself on the pillow.

Receiving his attentive silence, she blew out a shaky breath, trying to resist the pressing urge to backpedal.

"I wasn't completely honest in one of our sessions, when we were talking about me and Will."

Her eyes met his. A stony, emotionless mask now replaced the once warm, playful expression on his face moments ago. Her gaze quickly diverted down to his hand resting atop the mattress, zooming in on his platinum wedding band. She felt her throat growing dry and palms begin to sweat. This is stupid, she thought. But she had set herself up and there was no going back now.

"We kissed. Once," she whispered, slowly meeting his eyes again. His blank mien caused her to swallow rapidly. "It didn't mean anything," she blurted. "I ended it before it could turn into anything more and ca—"

"When?" His tone was low and even, telling her that his temper was presumably ignited, simmering. "When was this?"

"Last year. A few weeks after you came home from prison."

He sprung up from the bed and swung his legs over the side, planting his elbows on his knees. His sudden action startled her. Clutching the sheet, she sat up against the headboard and stared at the back of his pensive form.

"A few weeks after I came home from prison…" he repeated.

She knew he was doing the mental calculation, a sign that things were probably about to go downhill. The more seconds that ticked by filled with silence did the knot that had formed deep in her stomach begin to twist so tight it was making her feel sick.

"What day? What time? Where?"

"Peter, those details are not important. I just wanted to be—"

"They're important to me," he nearly growled.

Swallowing hard, she inhaled a breath. "It was at work one night in his office. I ended it, then came home."

His head dropped at her words.

"That's all that matters," she said, gently. "It never progressed to more and I came home."

Clasping his hands together, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply before turning to look at her over his shoulder.

"Why are you telling me this, Alicia? Why now?"

"Because—" She opened her mouth then closed it.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes but she refused to set them free. Her words hurt him. That was never her intention and the cycle of emotions she felt right now were unprecedented.

"Because I want to start over right, Peter. On a clean slate."

"But you lied. Repeatedly! I looked like an ass in our sessions when I kept asking you about him. I asked you if there was anything going on, if anything happened, and you lied about it. Why? What did you think was going to happen when you told me?"

"Can you honestly blame me for not saying anything?" A familiar pressure orbited around the center of her chest, her lower lip beginning to tremble. "Every time Will is brought up it's like fighting a never-ending war with you!" Shaking her head, she folded her arms while shooting daggers in his direction.

"Do you even trust me?"

He sneered, resounding in a laugh that made her skin crawl. "You're going to ask about trust after what you shared?"

"Okay," she glumly said, "Maybe I didn't tell you during one of our therapy sessions because I was still mad at you. But you lied to my face for months, Peter. Months! And I felt like you were pointing the finger at me when you had done so much worse!"

He tapped his pressed index fingers against his lips and nodded. "Yeah, that's probably true. I did worse." He rose from the bed and spun around to face her. "But look what you did. Anyway."

Her mouth fell open at his gall. "At least I didn't have sex with him!"

"Thank you. I'm glad I've been available at your disposal," he scoffed.

Pivoting on his heels, he walked towards the ottoman in the corner and picked up his suit pants.

"What are you doing?" She watched him begin to hastily redress, still trying to grapple with their spewed words.

"I need to head back to the office."

"No, you don't need to. You took the rest of the day off," she reminded. He was fleeing. He only left in the middle of an argument for one of three reasons: he was resigned on the topic, his temper was about to rear its ugly head or he was truly hurt from the subject matter.

He shook out minimal wrinkles in his dress shirt. "I need to go to the office and walk Cary through some things."

She combed a hand through her hair, not buying his reason. "Peter, let's talk about this. You're obviously upset." He cut his eyes to her as he put on his undershirt. "I told you because I don't want anymore lies or secrets between us. Only complete honesty from now on. Good or bad."

He laughed, and slipped on his dress shirt, swiftly gliding his belt through the loops of his pants waistband.

"Tell me something, Alicia. Are you ever thinking about him when you're kissing me? When you're having sex with me? When you're—"

"No, I'm not! And you know I'm not. Don't go there!"

"Do I know? Really?" He grabbed his tie draped over the back of her vanity chair and turned to face her, his eyes burning. "You confess to a kiss with Will," he spat his name, "from last year and I can't help but wonder about all the times I suspected you were thinking of him, and you told me you weren't."

"I wasn't lying when I said that." Her shoulders dropped as she wondered how things escalated to here. "I'm never thinking of him when we're having sex."

Watching him put on his blazer, she practically leaped from the bed and picked up her discarded robe from the floor, slipping it on. Quickly tying the sash in a slipknot, she neared him, observing him angrily fiddle with his tie.

"Peter…" He looked down at her, yanking the wide end of his tie up through the neck loop. A defiant storm in his eyes screamed back at her. One she was well accustomed to; only a handful of times she was the cause. She never liked being the cause. "I didn't tell you this for us to fight."

She inched forward, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I love you."

Smoothing a hand down his now tied tie, he let his head fall forward, emitting a dejected sigh.

"I want this," she continued. "Us. And nothing else in between or lingering."

Nodding, he slowly lifted his head. "Thank you…for telling me." Shrugging off the slump that had settled in his shoulders, he grabbed his phone and placed it in his breast pocket. "You can reach me at the office if you need me."

He ignored the urge to say more, to comfort the pleading look in her eyes and brushed past her, headed towards the front door. She followed him, hot on his heels, watching as he unlocked the security bolts.

"So that's it?" She swung open her arms, seeming to display the invisible pendulum of choices he forgot to make to settle this argument.

He slowly looked back at her. "I need time to think, Alicia."

Not saying more, he opened the door to be greeted with Owen's stunned face.

"Hello…" he said, retracting his barely inserted key from the lock. His curious eyes moved from the tense face of his brother-in-law to his sister behind him, who appeared very out of sorts.

"Hi, Owen," Peter grunted. "See you later." Their exchange sharply ended after nods of acknowledgement and he strode towards the elevator.

Slowly closing the door, Owen removed his crossbody messenger bag and deposited it on the chair beside the end table. He observed his sister for a minute. She remained transfixed staring at the closed door in a dainty black robe with her arms crossed, leading him to ponder what the hell he just walked in on. It was on the tip of his tongue to question the circumstance that had produced the icy chill in the room but knew there was one question she probably needed to hear first and foremost.

"Are you alright?"

Biting her lower lip, she hardly acknowledged him, choosing to glance into her bedroom. Her eyes scanned the material hints that attested to previous hours of bliss. Crumpled sheets scouted the bed, the duvet was partially on the floor, and her undergarments still decorated the lampshade on her nightstand. And then, the last fifteen minutes began to replay in her mind as she drifted her focus back to the door.

Moments ago, she was living what she thought was a great new chapter of her life. Now, she was experiencing what people often quoted as one step forward and ten steps back. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she ran her hands up and down her arms and began to walk back into the room.

"Sis?"

"I'm fine, Owen," she mumbled.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm going to change."

He started to trail after her when she abruptly shut the door in his face.