A/N: Thank you to everyone who took the time to review. It's most appreciated.
This chapter picks up a few weeks after the last chapter ended in early November.
As she got in the car, she slammed the door with more force than necessary. She put her head back and stared out at the evening sky through the windshield. It wasn't so late, but it was already getting dark now that the clocks had changed. She didn't want to go home. She was too - she didn't even know what she was, couldn't come up with the right word: indignant, angry, confused...whatever it was, she didn't want to see Owen and the kids, not right now, not while her emotions were so blurred and she felt at such a loss to control them. That bothered her too. She had ripped into opposing counsel in court this afternoon. And depending on who that had been, she might not have felt so bad, but it had been a case against Will and so, she did feel bad. She had no qualms about defending her client, even against opposing lawyers, whom she considered friends, but she'd had an edge to her today that Will certainly hadn't deserved from her. So she could add guilt to her list of emotions vying for control of her.
Since she desperately wanted a drink, a strong one at that, she decided to head for the nearest bar. It was still early enough that Owen wouldn't wonder if she weren't back for another hour or two. She generally didn't even notify him unless she'd be past 7:30 or 8.
She sat at a booth in the back. It offered more privacy and seclusion. Although she partially wanted a shot of something strong, she indulged herself with a bottle of good red wine. On her more or less empty stomach, it would still kick in rather quickly and she would enjoy it better than liquor.
She was lost in a mixture of self pity and righteous indignation when she heard a familiar voice, "Is this seat taken?"
The small upturn of the sides of her mouth whenever he appeared was so subconscious that she never even really noticed it, and although it was there, so was the sense of embarrassment recalling how she had treated him in court earlier.
"Hi," she offered a bit more shyly than usual.
"Hey," he responded as he slid into the seat across from her. She hadn't bit his head off, yet, so far so good. He really wanted to know what was up, but he didn't want to trigger an onslaught, but before he could formulate where to begin, she cut him off mid-thought.
"I"m sorry about before...in court." She was monotone, and not because she wasn't sincere, but because her anger was melting into melancholy. "It wasn't really fair for me to take out my aggression on you." She downed the rest of her glass.
He recognized the sadness in her eyes. He'd seen that look before. "So do you want to talk about what caused you to use me as your emotional punching bag." That description almost got a laugh at of her, but for now it was just a meek smile.
Georgetown - 2nd year ('92/'93)
They had been studying for an exam in Constitutional Law for the past hour, and her head was just not in it. That was very unlike Alicia, and Will knew it. He'd asked her a few times if she was okay, and anyone else might have bought her reply that she was fine, but he knew she wasn't. Even though she was pretty good at playing a poker face, he could always read her eyes, and her eyes never lied.
He put his book down, and leaned across the coffee table and took hers from her hand as well.
"We're not studying until you tell me what's bothering you."
"Will, I'm fine. Really." She tried to pick up book back up, avoiding eye contact, but Will put his hand on it holding it down."
"I know you said you're fine, but you're not fine." She looked towards him to contradict, but when their eyes met, she knew there was no getting out of this. She knew that besides the fact she couldn't resist 'that look' that she couldn't lie while looking him in the eye. And knowing that Will hadn't been fond of Dave, didn't make her any less reticent to reveal that he'd broken up with her shortly before their study date began.
With a roll of the eyes, she looked away and admitted, "Dave and I broke up." She looked back at him, and he could see there was more to the story. "And…" She really couldn't hide anything from him. "He dumped me, okay?" She tried to hold back a tear as she gave an exasperated sigh while reaching for her notes. "Can we continue now?"
"Not so fast." He collected the books, notebooks, and flash cards and put them off to the side amidst her silent protest. He went to the kitchen and came back with a container of Ben & Jerry's Mint Chocolate Cookie and handed it to her with a spoon.
"How is it that you always seem to have a container of this?"
"Coincidence." He shrugs nonchalantly. (He always - ALWAYS - keeps one container of her favorite in his freezer just in case she might want ice cream, which happens often enough that she's starting to suspect he purposely keeps a stock of it just for her.)
She reaches for her books when he blocks her. "Will, I can study and eat ice cream at the same time."
"I'm sure you can, but right now, you're not." He had gotten up and walked towards the television. "You're going to eat ice cream and watch movies. Ah, here it is. When my sister came to visit, she left Thelma & Louise."
He stuck it in the VCR and came to sit next to her on the he sofa after having found another container (of half-eaten, bcse that's all he had) ice cream for himself.
As much as she wanted to insist they study, she had to admit, this was exactly what she was in the mood for, so she gave in.
About halfway through the movie the ice cream was finished and she had leaned her head on his shoulder (which he did NOT mind at all). "He slept with Chrissy Johnson."
"What?" He was confused by the non sequitur.
"Dave. He dumped me for Chrissy Johnson."
He was fuming. He never really liked Dave, so it wasn't so hard to hate him, which he now most certainly did. But that the guy clearly didn't appreciate how special Alicia was and that he would even consider hurting her. That took his dislike to a whole new level. If the guy were here, he would for sure have difficulty restraining the urge to punch him.
"You want me to beat him up?" He offered half joking, half serious.
She smiled at the thought, which was tempting, "No. The ice cream and movie are good."
"Because I could beat him up if you want?" He was sort of hoping she'd say yes.
"He's not worth it."
Will's thoughts to himself, "You could say that again."
When the movie was over he took their books out. "Ready to study?"
"Yeah. Thank you."
He shrugged it off as no big deal. "I grew up with two sisters. That's what they always did." He thought for a moment, "They never let me beat up the guy either, even when I begged."
That got him a laugh out of her, a small one, but a laugh nonetheless
Something about that look of sincerity in his eyes made her feel comfortable. Made her feel safe to reveal what was going on in her head and in her heart. She'd always been able to talk to him, at least when the topic wasn't about him. "I went to see Peter this morning." She poured another cup of wine. She felt the need to drink surging as she began to recount the day's events. "He's bringing his case for appeal."
"Is that good or bad?"
"I - that's the problem. I don't know." She frowned as she stared at the Cabernet. "I - I mean - the kids - they would be thrilled if he were back home."
He gathered from her tone that she wouldn't be. "And you?"
"I wasn't expecting to have to deal with the prospect of him getting out of prison so soon."
"How soon?"
"I don't know. Sooner than the full ten years." She took another sip of her wine, while he nursed a scotch on the rocks. "He wants me to testify, to help him with his appeal. And he thinks once he's out, everything will be back to normal. He actually said that, things will go back to normal as if none of this ever happened." The anger was starting to surface again.
"And what about you? What do you want?"
"I" - she looked at him, really looked at him. An answer floated to the surface of her mind, but she blamed it on the alcohol and she still had enough sobriety to censor herself.
"Do you love him?" As much as he hated the possibility of hearing her say yes, as always, he was concerned with what she wanted, what she felt, what she needed.
"I don't know." She admitted defeatedly. Then she started rambling, "How do you just throw away fifteen years of marriage? How do you just decide to end your family? How do you forgive your husband for banging hookers for months, sometimes two at a time?" She'd said more than she meant to. She was starting to feel too open. She got more quiet. "I don't know how to go back to normal. I don't know if I can or if I want to."
"So don't." He was trying to be honest with himself that he was keeping all self-interest out of this.
"What about the kids. He's still their father."
"And he can be their father, even if you're not his wife."
She started to respond, but then stopped. She slumped in her seat leaning back with her glass in hand staring down at its contents as if it were a crystal ball that would magically provide answers to solve all of her problems.
"You're not your mother."
She looked up, caught off guard. "I know, but - "
"No, you don't know. You blame her for breaking up your family, but in this case, Peter's the one who threw fifteen years of marriage and his family under the bus because he couldn't keep his pants zipped. You don't owe him any more forgiveness than you're willing to give, and you're not obligated to forgive him at all if you don't want to. Just because he's their father, doesn't mean you have to welcome him back into your home if you don't want to. If you're worried about your kids' holding a grudge against you, like you do your mother, get any thought of that out of your head right now. Your kids are smart enough and mature enough to understand that what their father did was a deal breaker to your marriage." He paused to let what he'd said so far sink in before continuing, "And if you let him back into your home, what message are you sending your kids about fidelity and the consequences of the lack thereof?"
That last line really got her. He was right. She knew he was right. Looking him in the eye, she had no defense, no response, and yet she wasn't quite ready to admit to herself, let alone out loud, that her marriage was over, that so much of her world, her self-worth, was crushed. Those feelings of self-doubt and rejection, feeling that she hadn't been enough for him, feeling defective, those were things that she kept buried deep within herself and wasn't ready to crack open that Pandora's box, definitely not right now.
"Mom, pick up the phone. Mom, pick up the phone. Mom, pick up the phone." She took out her phone and silenced it.
"That's Grace."
"Out past your curfew?" He smiled as he finished off his scotch.
She laughed, the first time all day. "Yeah," looking at her watch, "something like that."
He put down a wad of bills on the table "I've got this." She was about to protest, but she recognized the look in his eyes that there would be no point, "Thanks."
She stumbled a bit as she got up and got her coat. "You're not driving are you?"
She realized the room was spinning a bit more than it should, "I guess not."
He went outside with her and made sure she was safely in a cab before leaving.
She kept thinking about what Will had said on the ride home, but her head was pounding. That's what she gets for almost polishing off an entire bottle of wine on an empty stomach.
When she got home, she feigned that she was under the weather and went to bed. Owen was a bit suspicious, but she really didn't look good, so the kids bought it. They offered to bring her tea or soup, but she said she just wanted to sleep and hoped that she'd feel better by the morning.
Once she closed the door behind her, she kicked off her heals, took off her coat and climbed in under the covers. It wasn't even 8 o'clock yet. About two hours later she got up because she needed the bathroom. She changed into pajamas and went to the kitchen for a drink of water, and she was feeling hungry. Assuming everyone was likely asleep by then, she figured she'd have the quiet and privacy she craved even outside of the safe confines of her room.
She stood leaning against the counter drinking her water when Grace quietly entered the kitchen. Alicia hadn't noticed her coming until she turned and saw her, causing her to jump.
"I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's okay. I didn't realize you were still up."
"I heard you in here." She handed her mom an envelope. "When Uncle Owen left, we found this by the door. but we didn't know if we should wake you." Alicia opened the envelope and began to read as Grace went to the freezer.
"Instead of drinking, stick with ice cream and Thelma & Louise. You'll avoid the hangover." She smiled and looked up to see Grace handing her a container of Mint Chocolate Cookie. "This was with the note."
Thank you for reading. Reviews are always appreciated.
Just as a reference, for the purposes of this story, Will and Alicia started law school in the fall of 1991 and graduated in the spring of 1994. Thelma & Louise came out in May of 1991 and was directed by Ridley Scott, who was one of the executive producers of TGW.
