Author's note: Hello everyone! First of all, I would like to thank all the people who took the time to review the previous chapter. It means the world to me to hear from you and know your opinion. I had already written most of the second chapter when I posted the first one two weeks ago, but reading your reviews made me want to work more on it so that I could bring you something that hopefully will satisfy you. Thank you for reading this one, I really hope you enjoy it! - hannahorgrace
Chapter 2
It's been two days since his conversation with Kalinda and Will hasn't talked to Alicia yet. Well, he has talked to her, but he hasn't talked to her. Each and every one of their conversations, however long — albeit they tend to be rather short these days — is filled with the heavy weight of unfinished business. He can feel it every time she's in his office, in the way she stands closer to the doorframe than she used to. Or how she holds files against her chest in a protective manner whenever he approaches her.
She's putting up a wall again.
He thinks of what they used to be like around each other. Before all of it, before he had even had the indecency to claim her lips with his, to hold her in his arms, to cherish her skin and adore her heart. He thinks of exchanging looks with her, sometimes a little longer than necessary, sometimes furtive, sometimes just because. He remembers how easy it was, because even if they hadn't really been around each other for years, they had known each other before, and they had shared something that not even time could take away from them.
Will makes his way to the kitchen and pours a glass of scotch, mentally congratulating himself for thinking of buying more for his apartment, and reminding himself that he needs to buy some as well for his office.
He decides to make a plan. Yes, he thinks, a plan makes sense, because Alicia likes things to be organized. On the other hand, throwing his feelings at her does not make sense. He makes a list of why it does not make sense (Alicia likes lists.).
1. Alicia probably knows, to some extent, how he feels about her. She must know. She can't be entirely unaware. She knows him, and he knows her, and if she's scared of this thing that they have, then it means she knows, or suspects, how he feels for her. And she must feel something too. People don't get scared of their own lack of feeling, because the absence of feeling is not risky. There is nothing to lose. No; people get scared when they do have feelings, because it means losing control, it means opening up to the possibility of suffering. Relinquishing control and giving someone else the opportunity to cause pain.
He takes a sip of his drink.
2. He's pretty sure that words don't mean that much to her anymore. Although he doesn't want to generalize, if there is anything that he's learned about women, it's that actions speak louder than words.
He frowns. Where that cheesy philosophy came from, he has no idea. He takes another sip.
3. Considering these two points, Will figures that she needs more than just the knowledge of how he feels about her. Well, he thinks, he does need to tell her, of course, but he needs to give her more than that. He needs to make her understand that he can give her what she needs.
He suddenly feels very inadequate. She has a whole life already, a husband, and two children. Whatever worries she has, how could he possibly compete with that?
He pours himself another drink. In the kitchen, the microwave informs him that it's 9.34 pm.
He thinks about all the arguments he can come up with and how he should present them to her. He's good at this, usually. It's basically what he does every day in court: introducing all the arguments in his case to make judges and juries rule in his favor.
But this has nothing to do with a case, and Alicia is neither a judge nor a juror. It won't matter to her what seems fair or unfair, just or unjust.
Will takes another sip, grabs his phone, and finds her number. He stares at the screen for a little while, then at his glass, then at the ceiling, and back to his phone. He takes a sip and dials her number.
He doesn't know how to prepare for this. His mind is going in all directions; there are too many emotions flowing through him at that moment. And the alcohol in his blood doesn't help with the thinking. But it helps keep him calm.
After having battled with about six different remotes in her living room, Alicia abandons the idea of spending her evening in front of the television with one — or more — glass(es) of Chardonnay and decides on another activity that, although intrinsically uninteresting, seems to have some sort of soothing effect on her. She takes the Chardonnay to the laundry room and starts sorting the clothes in the laundry basket by color. There seems to be more dark clothes, so she gathers them all and puts them in the machine.
Beep beep beep.
Resting the glass on the machine, she makes a mental list of who could possibly be calling her.
Beep beep beep.
Zach and Grace are with Peter for the weekend. They left about an hour and a half ago, Peter was taking them to the restaurant. And she has specific ringtones for her kids anyway.
Beep beep beep.
Owen would have called her at home first. So would have her mother. And she didn't hear her home phone ring.
Beep beep beep.
Alicia realizes she doesn't have many friends.
The phone goes silent and she decides that whoever was trying to reach her could probably just leave a message.
Retrieving her glass and taking a sip, Alicia starts the laundry machine and moves to the dryer. She empties it and starts folding the clothes.
Beep beep beep.
She sighs. She gulps the last of her drink and goes to get her phone.
She freezes.
Beep beep beep.
Before she can even think about it, she answers the phone.
"Hello?"
The other end of the line is silent and a wave of awkwardness flows all over her.
"I'm sorry I didn't hear the phone before, I was doing the laundry," she lies.
Will sighs. He has no idea what he's doing.
"Right," he says. "Hi."
Alicia smiles. "Hi."
They stay on the phone, in silence, for a few seconds. It's not uncomfortable, but Alicia interrupts anyway.
"Will?" she tries
"Yeah," is the only thing he can come up with. This is not what the plan was, he thinks.
"Did you need something?"
Her smile resonates through her voice. Will closes his eyes. Is it always going to be like this? he wonders. This feeling, this gut-wrenching feeling in his stomach, when he hears her voice, when she says his name, when she's talking to him. When did he become that person?
He feels his heartbeat in his throat as he tries to gather himself.
"Alicia … can we talk?" He ventures. In the short seconds before she answers, he prays she says yes. Will doesn't pray. Will never prays.
"Will…" she starts, but he interrupts. He can't let her say no.
"Please?" he asks. "I can meet you somewhere, or — are you alone?" He pauses. He clearly hasn't thought this through. "If you're alone you can come over, or I can come over —" he's babbling. He realizes it because he can hear her smile on the other end of the line.
"Have you been drinking?"
He smiles. "Yes." It's no use bothering to lie.
Silence falls on them again, overwhelming, like a curse that he doesn't know how to counter.
"I don't know if that's a good idea, Will."
Her words are soft and gentle. They're not words of rejection, but rather prevention, or self-preservation. It's not that she doesn't want to see him, but she's afraid of what might happen if she does.
She's been there before, she thinks, that place that resembles a battlefield, with what she should do crashing against what she wants to do. She remembers Will kissing her in his office about two years ago. She remembers part of her being surprised, even taken aback by his actions, and yet another part of her sighing in relief because finally, finally. She vaguely recalls telling herself that she should have stopped him because it was wrong, but how could it have been wrong when it had felt so right? It was in the way he had looked at her, and she had known what he was going to do, she would be lying if she said she hadn't. She remembers shivering just from looking into his eyes, and yet being unable to look away, almost as if she had dared him not to kiss her. She had barely even responded then, had barely let her lips move under his because no, I'm married, but then his eyes had claimed hers again and her heart had answered faster than her brain could ever have.
Alicia snaps out of her reverie, realizing neither of them has spoken.
For lack of a better answer, Will tries humor. "I know, I shouldn't drive when I've been drinking. Maybe it's best if I take a cab."
She laughs. And he laughs because she laughs, and because he knows her, and he thinks maybe that's stronger than this wall she's building around herself again. Maybe his passion is greater than her fears.
She ponders the idea for a while. She doesn't want them to be awkward, and she knows they will be if she rejects him now. But she knows what he wants to talk about, and she's not sure if it's a conversation they should be having.
"Will —"
"Let me fight for you." His interruption comes unexpected for both of them.
He can hear her sharp breath break the silence on the other side of the line. But in the short seconds after he speaks, she doesn't interrupt him. For some reason he holds his breath, as if he's afraid of disturbing their silence. But the stillness sounds like hope, and it encourages him to go on.
"I know it's complicated," he starts, and he immediately admonishes himself silently — as if she needs to be reminded that it's complicated — and quickly finishes his thought, "but I think it's worth — I know it's worth it."
Her silence is not comforting, and he realizes his voice is probably shaky — unsteady, at best — but she's not stopping him, and the words tumble out of his mouth as if all they have been waiting for is to be spoken.
"I don't want to give up on this," and he still does not know what this is, doesn't know what to call them, but he pictures her in the elevator, and he remembers kissing her then. He remembers taking her hand, to give them both confidence, because she had said yes to him then but he had needed to hold her hand to be certain, so that she would give him the courage to do what he had forbidden himself from doing so many times before. So that he could make sure she was in with him on this. He remembers slowly walking her to the side of the elevator and brushing her hair behind her ear, remembers her eyes closing as he had captured her lips with his, finally, finally, and how his heartbeat had raced as she had slid her hand around his neck, holding him, holding herself. Their hands had run everywhere, sliding under his jacket and under her skirt, her breath warm against his lips, his pulse breaking speed records, and they had been like teenagers in the way it had felt like time wasn't going fast enough, like more was never enough.
Will opens his eyes, the memory fueling his speech.
"I want you. I want to be with you. There's nothing I want more than that."
He hears her quivering breath, and he doesn't know if she's crying, but then she exhales softly and tries to steady her voice.
"I don't know what to do, Will." It comes out as a whisper, and he thinks maybe she lowers her voice so that he doesn't hear the tears that are threatening to flow out.
"Let me come over." He tries, his throat tight with apprehension, struggling to make his words be heard clearly.
She doesn't speak. Will doesn't know, with the way their conversation started, how he got her to be the silent one.
"Alicia?"
He hears the beating of his heart as loud as a drum, measuring her silence; each beat louder, each second heavier.
"You're not —" he starts, and then, "I'm coming over."
He waits for a response.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
On the fourth, she takes a breath, but says nothing.
The line goes dead.
Author's note: Hi again. Thanks for reading! Sorry for that suspenseful ending (it's not even that suspenseful), but I needed to end this chapter somewhere and this just made sense to me. I would really love to hear your thoughts on this, it would really help me with the following chapter, as your previews reviews did with this one. I'm not sure exactly where I'm going to take this story but I have some ideas written down already which I hope you will enjoy, so if you'd like to read more, please let me know! Thanks again for reading! - hannahorgrace