I don't own the Good Wife or the song I Need You Now by Lady Antebellum

A huge thanks to goodwifefan that beta-read this for me.

I Need You Now

Chapter 2: Peter

Another shot of whiskey, can't stop looking at the door.
Wishing you'd come sweeping in the way you did before.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind?
For me it happens all the time.

It's a quarter after one, I'm a little drunk and I need you now.
Said I wouldn't call but I've lost all control and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without.
I just need you now.

Peter walked aimlessly around his home office in the mostly empty governor's mansion where he now lived. The housekeeper knocked on the door, asking if he needed anything else, but he quickly brushed her off, telling her he was fine, and she should go to bed. He was glad she didn't really know him yet and had easily believed his lie.

Fine. No that might be the only thing he wasn't. He was lonely, tired, stressed, and sad. No, he was not fine, but that didn't mean he wanted the housekeeper to know. He glanced at his watch —a quarter after one. Not that bad. He could allow himself a break before working a little more and going to bed. He walked over and poured himself another two fingers of whiskey. While taking a long sip, his eyes followed a sound near the door.

In that moment, he was reminded of other times he had worked late in a home office; however, those times when it had gotten too late, someone had come down and made him come upstairs to bed. Alicia. It had happened often, especially when the kids were younger. Back then he had a tradition of bringing work home so he could finish it up after the kids went to bed. That way he got more time with the family and was able to take part in family dinners and the kids bath time. Once they had tucked the children in and Alicia started reading them a bedtime story, he would go downstairs into his home office to finish his work.

Alicia would often join him. Sometimes she acted as his sounding board. Other times she simply lounged on the couch beside his office fireplace— reading a book or just staring into the flames for hours as he worked nearby. If she had fallen asleep before he finished, which was not unusual, he would try to carry her up to their bed without waking her. On a few occasions, the movement disturbed her sleep. Because she woke up and kissed him, they didn't get very far. He ended up making love to her right there on the rug in front of the fireplace, the glowing embers casting just enough light for each of them to see the other one's face.

On those nights that Alicia did not spend in his office, though, he could be sure she would come down and get him if it got too late. Looking at the door now made him miss her sweeping in like that, smiling at him, telling him she missed him— that she was cold in bed alone. Many of those nights had ended in tender lovemaking in front of the office fireplace as well.

All of those tender nights with Alicia in his home office were long past now, as in a far away dream. He couldn't even remember when the last time was—many years ago now. Before he started to work more and more within the office late at night. Before he started going back in after having dinner at home. Before he stopped coming home for dinner at all.

These more unpleasant thoughts brought another with it as Peter continued drinking and pacing the office floor. Alicia's disappointed but understanding eyes haunted him for a moment. He had been a fool back then, he thought to himself. Only a fool would still have left her after that look instead of taking her in his arms and leaving everything else to be finished the next day. He briefly wondered if she ever thought of those nights together at all. Yes, he had been a fool to give it all up for a few hours in hotel rooms.

The first time he ever cheated on her had been those few minutes late at night with Kalinda. After that came Amber Madison and all her lies. She said later that he had promised to divorce Alicia, marry her, and have her work on his campaign, but Peter had never once said those things to her. Even in the middle of it all, while he knew at some level that he was taking Alicia more and more for granted, he never intended for it to affect them. He told himself that Alicia would always be there. After all, he intended to grow old with her. Instead, he had lost Alicia completely.

True. He had been the one to bring the divorce up, but that was only after a long time of separation with no real signs of reconciliation. So he had been the one to say the words. It was a moment he did not really want himself, and immediately regretted, when he saw the shock on Alicia's face. Maybe she really hadn't planned one? It only took a moment, however, before he again had the thought that caused him to bring up the subject. If they couldn't be happy together, then they both at least deserved the chance to find, and potentially be happy with, someone else.

Peter had been first to meet someone— a surprise since he was not looking, and didn't expect to meet someone at all. He had expected Alicia to begin seeing Will the moment the agreement on starting a divorce was final- but she didn't. He met Cecily a few months back, and thought initially that things were going well; however, he knew- by now, it would not last in the long run. Maybe because they were incompatible. Sometimes he thought she was more interested in his position than in him- at least it seemed so. Maybe because he still missed Alicia and knew, deep down, that he could never really love someone else the way he loved her.

Peter looked over at his desk and saw his phone. Standing here, alone, in his office like this, he really wanted to connect with her again. He was tempted to call Alicia—just to hear her voice. He knew she would not like it, though, and would most likely be in bed by now anyway.

He told himself it was a really bad idea to call her like this, a little drunk from the whiskey on an empty stomach...his inhibitions removed and the melancholy and regrets raging. No, she would hate him for it, even if it was not the middle of the night— even if he was not her ex. Calling her was a bad idea.

Having settled that debate in his foggy mind, Peter was about to sit down and finish up some work when his cell phone rang. He looked at the screen, and for a few seconds, he was sure he was dreaming. Alicia's name flashed on the display repeatedly.

Then Peter was nervous. She would only call at this hour if she had a really important reason—like something bad had happened. His nerves now on edge, he picked up the phone, fumbling with the answer button, anxious to catch her before the call went to voice mail.

There will be one more chapter about the phone conversation.