Alex had never really been one to celebrate New Year's.
In fact, the only time she could remember actually staying up until midnight was the night Ethan was born.
He'd been a full three days past his due date at that point and she was scheduled for an induction on January second. Being so heavily pregnant and wanting nothing more than to have her baby out of her body and in her arms, she'd been in absolutely no mood to celebrate New Year's.
Somehow, though, James had convinced her to join him and some of the other doctors he worked with for a little party. She'd agreed rather reluctantly, if only because James seemed to think that getting her mind off how miserable and uncomfortable she was would do her good.
She'd sat on the outskirts of the party, silently wishing she were at home and in bed...until her water had broken, at which point she'd learned quickly that a room full of doctors was both the best and most awkward place to go into labour. (She hoped to never again have so many people interested in her cervix...)
When she'd arrived at the hospital – just shy of eight o'clock – she was already dilated to six centimetres. It took her the next four hours, though, to finish dilating the remaining four centimetres. Then, at 12:27 AM, Ethan Ellery Blake was born, wailing his displeasure at his unceremonious entrance to the world.
For the nine years that followed, New Year's had been a reminder of the best day of Alex's life.
Then, it became a stark reminder of everything that she'd lost.
On that particular New Year's Eve, Alex lay in bed, staring at the sheaf of papers in front of her, wondering how her life had ended up here...
When she'd met her husband in high school, she'd admittedly been unsure because she was shy and quiet and made it her business to fly below the radar. James, on the other hand, was popular and outspoken and a favourite to make prom king. But for whatever reason, from the moment he'd first laid eyes on her, he'd decided she was the girl he was going to marry.
Little did she know at the time, but his interpretation of 'til death do us part was more of a suggestion than a steadfast rule...
She'd been separated from her husband for the better part of a year – longer still if you counted all the years he'd been on the other side of the globe serving with Doctors Without Borders, communicating through emails and the rare phone call – but somehow she'd still been shocked when she'd been served with divorce papers three days earlier.
If she were being honest with herself, she'd known this was coming. She wasn't blind, she knew they'd been growing apart for years. In fact, she was surprised it had taken this long. She'd read somewhere that sixteen percent of marriages end in divorce following the death of a child and, at first, she'd thought that maybe they wouldn't be a statistic. Maybe they could weather the storm together.
It had started slowly: James started spending more time at the hospital, then he'd taken the first overseas assignment that came his way. Emails and phone calls had slowly tapered off with time until she stopped expecting them at all. And on the rare occasion he was home, it felt like living with a stranger – they weren't affectionate, didn't kiss or hold hands and on the ever rarer occasion that they had sex, it felt more like he was using her body as a masturbatory aide than making love to his wife.
She supposed it was probably better that they were finally both being put out of their misery because being together was hardly a joyous experience anymore.
That didn't make it any easier though, to know that almost thirty years of her life was being washed down the drain... Which, she supposed, was why she hadn't signed the papers yet.
She was still staring at the papers, trying to make sense of any of it, when someone knocked on her door. She was tempted not to answer, really not in the mood to talk to anyone, but something inside her compelled her, so she resisted the impulse to ignore it.
On the other side of the door was JJ – dressed in a glittering cocktail dress, obviously on her way to Rossi's annual New Year's party. "Hey," JJ said softly with a compassionate smile. "I know you said you weren't up to coming to the party... I just thought I'd check in. I know it's a hard day for you..."
Following her kidnapping, JJ had confided in Alex about losing her baby. And, in turn, Alex had shared about losing Ethan. The two women had cried together and prayed together, though neither was really the sort for either of those activities. Together, they'd found a quiet sort of understanding that their husbands just hadn't shared.
Alex offered a smile back, but it was a hollow one.
Ever perceptive, JJ took one look at her and asked, "What's wrong?"
And, though she'd thought she was handling it well, Alex burst into tears and confessed, "I got served with divorce papers."
"Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry," JJ murmured, engulfing her in an embrace. "Do you want to talk about it?"
She shook her head firmly. "God, I just want to not feel anything for a few hours..."
JJ understood completely. "I know you said you don't feel like coming, but why don't you join us tonight," she insisted. "Rossi has exactly enough alcohol to reach the point of numbness..."
Alex chewed at her lip, obviously reconsidering.
As if understanding her hesitation, JJ continued, "Garcia will be so busy playing with Henry that she won't have time to interrogate you about your life. And if she tries, I'll create a distraction so you can escape and hide..." She winked to show she was only kidding. Mostly. "It'll do you good to be surrounded by people who love you," she added gently.
With a small sigh, she nodded.