Alicia POV
"Well?"
"Yes," I said emphatically.
Kalinda flashed me a brief smile, and said, "Good. Twenty minutes," and then disappeared from my office doorway.
I just accepted her invitation to go for a drink after work. She's asked me a few times in recent weeks and I haven't been able - or wasn't sure if I wanted - to go, but tonight I want to, and it looks like I can get out of here at a decent time this evening, and my date with Peter isn't until a little later.
My date with Peter.
It sounds weird, saying it in my head, and yet just the thought has me smiling.
Last night, in his hotel room…
"Marry me," he said, sounding so sweet and sincere and…nervous. As if his happiness hinges on my answer.
"We are married," I reminded him, but I know what he means.
We don't live together.
We usually talk to each other every day, and we make parenting decisions together, and we're having a lot of sex.
But still...it's not the same.
It's not a real marriage.
We've been in an odd kind of limbo, but even so, I thought it was working okay for us. Well, until two weeks ago when I kissed Will. Because I never would've done that if I were truly married.
Would I?
God, I hope not.
"I want to do it again," he said earnestly. "And this time, it'll be for the rest of our lives."
The rest of our lives.
That's what it was supposed to be the first time around, and we failed.
Both of us.
But I don't see that happening again.
We've grown too much, and experiencing the loss of us, of our family…it's taken its toll on us. And I think it's made us appreciate what we had. It makes me want to get that back.
It also makes me think how much better it can be this time around.
I was supposed to leave his room at that point, but how could I just walk away after a statement like that?
After a proposal.
So I didn't leave. Not right away at least.
Instead I grabbed onto the front of his shirt and kissed him with a renewed sense of urgency and desire and emotion, and then I let go of the fabric and reached for his belt buckle, and I had it undone and the zipper halfway down before he stopped me.
"Alicia," was all he could say as his hands covered mine, and I love that his eyes had that wild look in them, and that he was right there with me in the about-to-lose-control department.
"I can stay a little while longer. As long as we don't talk, right?" I posed purposefully, and as I said the words, I slid one hand from his grasp and finished pulling down his zipper. He closed his eyes and groaned as I reached inside and ran my hand over him, and then that thin thread of control he'd been clinging to finally snapped.
Things were kind of a blur after that.
An incredible, multi-orgasmic, hazy blur.
I'm not sure what got into us, but I think we used every available surface in his two-room suite.
It's no wonder I'm a little sore today.
"You don't really have to go," he said as I attempted to put myself back together in preparation for a four a.m. walk of shame. "I just don't want to be taking advantage of the moment. I don't want you to say yes and then go back to your place tomorrow and realize you don't want me in it. Or you don't want to move away from it. Or…"
"It's okay," I assured him, pausing in my hunt for my underwear.
I went over to where he stood leaning against the window, and then I turned around so that he would zip my dress for me.
For a moment, he didn't move, and then he slowly dragged the zipper upwards and once it was back in place, he slipped his arms around my waist and hugged me to him, his lips pressing against the side of my neck.
"I'm not sure if I said it, but…I love you," he said quietly. "And I want you to know that I'll never hurt you again. Not ever. And I know we'll have a lot of things to work out, if you say yes, and if you say no…"
He trailed off, and he sounded so sad just by the possibility that I might say no, and I finally get why he suggested that I leave afterwards.
Because we're so intertwined, with so much history between us, that it would be too easy to slip back into something without giving it the consideration it deserves.
"Hey, no talking, remember?" I said as I turned in his arms. "I agreed to your terms, so I'm going to go, and tomorrow night, we're going on a date, okay? And we'll talk about everything then."
So I kissed him goodbye and now it's been a little more than twelve hours since I've spoken with him.
And I miss him.
It's silly, considering we've gone much longer than this without talking, but I guess it's because he's been on my mind all day.
When I was in court…when I was taking a deposition…even when I ran into Will in the elevator.
I didn't know it, but he was already on as I ran to catch it, and the doors were nearly closed when I stuck my hand in, sending the doors in reverse direction.
"Oh, sorry," I said as I stood for a moment, just looking at him.
"You can get on. I won't bite," he said with a smile.
The funny thing is that I wasn't hesitant because it felt awkward. I was really just remembering the time when Peter came to the office and was on the elevator with Will.
I went to meet him, and the doors opened, and wow…the two of them were standing there, side by side.
At the time, I was struck by how much bigger Peter is than Will. Taller and broader and just…a larger presence as a whole. I think that was the first time in a long time that I really looked at Peter.
It was also the beginning of this road we're on again.
This road of togetherness.
"Alicia?" Will questioned.
"Yeah, um…thanks," I mumbled as I moved into the elevator.
"So…everything okay?"
"It's fine."
"And we're…"
"We're fine," I said firmly.
I felt him stare at me for a moment or two, and I think he wanted to ask something else, but I pulled out my phone to check messages, and he let the matter drop.
Which is a good thing because I'm not going to repeat past mistakes.
We talked yesterday, and I meant what I said. Honestly, it shouldn't even be an issue anymore. We broke up a long time ago, and it almost makes me wonder if he can tell just by looking at me that I'm invested in someone else again. If maybe he wants me more when it's on the sly, when I can't commit…I don't know, maybe I'm way off base but it's food for thought.
Anyway, I made it through the day and then a couple of minutes ago, Kalinda stopped by to see if I was interested in having a drink with her, and I am because downing a shot or two with her often helps clear my head, even when she doesn't say much of anything at all.
So I packed up a few files that I need to take home with me and headed out, and fifteen minutes later, I was on a bar stool, placing an order for two shots of tequila. Kalinda isn't here yet, but I'm sure she will be any minute.
"Hey," she said as she slid onto the stool next to me.
"I ordered for you."
"Okay."
Her response is quiet, almost hesitant. Pretty much the same as she's been with me for the past couple of years.
Like she's waiting for me to go off on her.
It occurs to me that maybe I had a subconscious ulterior motive for wanting to join her for drinks tonight.
Maybe it's symbolic.
If I'm going to move forward with Peter, I need to accept the fact that the past is the past, and that includes his involvement with Kalinda.
She and I weren't friends back then. It wasn't a betrayal of me in any sense other than that I was the unknown wife. And after we met…well, when would've been the right time to tell me? I mean, I'm not condoning that she kept the secret, but still…I think I get why she did.
I considered that for a moment as the bartender set us up with two shots and a couple of lime wedges.
Taking a deep breath, I picked up the glass and turned towards her as I said, "We haven't done this in a while."
"No," she agreed.
"We should get back in the habit."
One of the things I appreciate about Kalinda is that I never have to spell anything out for her.
She's sharp.
And this time isn't any different, because as I made the suggestion while staring at her purposefully, she hesitated briefly and then let out a measured exhale as a small smile played on her lips.
And she could've pointed out that we have met at the bar a few times recently.
Or she could've simply agreed with my statement.
Instead, she recognized that it's my way of accepting her apology, even though it's been quite a few weeks since the last one was offered, that night in the hotel in Minnesota.
"You think?" she asked as she reached for her glass.
"Definitely," I said, tapping my glass against hers.
We each downed our shots, and as I ordered round two, I found myself smiling. I'm not sure why, but I just feel…lighter.
"So catch me up," Kalinda said. "What's going on with you?"
"Well…I have a date tonight."
"Really," she said with interest. "With who?"
"Peter."
Her expression faltered for a second, like she thinks my remark was some kind of test or something, and I guess I can't blame her.
"It's a good thing," I assured her.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
She nodded slowly as held my gaze and then she said, "Okay."
"So what about you? Are you seeing anyone?"
As I posed the question, her cell phone buzzed, and I was surprised to see her smile as she read the text message.
"You are seeing someone," I stated with amusement. "Who?"
She smiled fully but didn't answer my question as she typed a reply into her phone, and when she finished, she said, "It's…nothing."
"Oh, come on. Do I know him? Her? Him?"
She set down her phone and picked up her glass, so I grabbed mine, too and we tossed back the second round of shots.
"Him," she said quietly as she put her empty glass back on the bar. "But it's…I don't know what it is yet."
So it might be something, but of course she'll never admit it. Honestly, the fact that she said it's a man is more information than I expected to get from her.
"You're not going to ask more questions?" she asked after a minute.
"Why? You won't answer me," I replied with a grin.
"Huh," she said thoughtfully, and then to my surprise, she said, "This is between us."
"Of course," I said immediately, and as she continued to stare at me without saying anything, it hit me that she's trying. To be open, and be my friend, and share things…something she has trouble with.
She's offering me her trust, and for Kalinda, it's an invaluable gift.
So she told me about her fledgling relationship, and I told her a little more about my reconciliation with Peter, and we went through two more rounds of tequila shots before it was time for me to leave.
We agreed to meet again after work on Friday, and then I headed for the restaurant. Peter offered to pick me up, but since the kids are home, and my mother's still there…I just thought it would be easier if I don't have to explain things to them. At least not yet.
"You came."
I had just entered the restaurant when I heard Peter's voice from off to the right.
"I said I would."
"I know, but…" he shrugged and smiled as he approached me, and then he planted a quick kiss on my cheek before adding, "You've had the light of day to change your mind, so I wasn't sure."
His insecurity tugs at my heart because it's something he usually keeps so well hidden. From the public, from friends, from me…or at least he used to.
But he's definitely a changed man.
"Mr. Florrick, your table is ready," the maître d announced, so we put our conversation on hold as we followed him through the restaurant to a quiet corner table.
Once we were seated, Peter ordered us a bottle of wine and then after the waiter left us alone, he sat back in his chair and looked at me nervously.
"So…are we talking about this now?" I asked.
"No."
"No?"
"I know that was the idea, but I didn't think it through. We're in a public restaurant, and even though one very specific part of me will be ecstatic if you say you want us to stick with our sex-only relationship, the rest of me will be devastated. And pictures of me crying in my wine probably won't help my campaign, so…"
I chuckled at the dramatic image he painted, but he just kept looking at me with a serious expression on his face.
"So maybe we just have our date, and then we'll talk afterwards," he finished. "In private."
He really thinks I'm going to say no.
Even after I told him that I love him.
Most likely because he blames himself entirely for what happened to us. But I don't.
I mean, I did.
Before.
I maintained the illusion that I had no culpability whatsoever for our downfall.
Probably because his flaws were thrown into the spotlight while everyone viewed me as the victim. I bought into that for a while.
But it was both of us.
In the murder of our marriage, we're undoubtedly in pari delicto.
But I think it says something that after all we've been through, and after the time that's passed and the mistakes that were made, we both still love each other.
I think it means we can do it right this time, as long as we've learned from our mistakes.
I reached out my hand, resting it palm up on the table in invitation, and he covered it with his.
I can't let him spend the next few hours steeped in uncertainty.
"I don't ever want to forget this moment. This feeling," I said quietly. "I think that's what happened before. We were married, but maybe we forgot why."
He nodded and sat up straight in his chair as he stared at me expectantly, clearly realizing that I'm not going to wait to have this conversation.
And I know there's a lot to work out. Details and logistics…when to tell the kids, and where to live, and what if anything to release to the press…but none of that has to be figured out tonight.
Right now, it's just about me and him.
I've thought about it all day, exactly what I wanted to say to him. Not the answer itself, but the specific words to use, and nothing came to mind, which was driving me crazy because I'm a lawyer, for God's sake. I talk for a living.
But sitting across from him, I didn't have to reach for words.
They were just right there.
"So this time, I promise not to forget how much I love you, or how much I need you, or how important it is to make time for just us," I said as I clasped his hand tightly.
"You're saying yes?" he asked, and in spite of the seriousness of the moment, I had to laugh because maybe I wasn't being quite as eloquent as I thought.
But that's okay.
The look of hopefulness and love on his face, and the feel of his hand holding mine, and the need for me to cut to the chase and be direct only adds to the memory of the moment.
"Yes, I'm saying yes."
The End