A/N: Thanks for letting me live enough to write and post another chapter. It was really appreciated. And thanks for all the warm reviews, intimidations included :P
When she steps out of the elevator and into the LG reception hall with Cary, Alicia drifts into the still fresh past where she left this place and in all the reasons, right or wrong, that led her away from here. Not in a million years would she have imagined that one day she'd be back and under such different circumstances. In a few minutes they are going to meet Diane to discuss the last and most prickly details of the merger. Both for the importance of this professional change in her life, and for the sense of edginess of the last few days, Alicia is a bundle of nerves. The bureaucracy is probably going to entomb them all and that doesn't help either, but it's sadly a necessary and unavoidable step.
As they wait outside Diane's office, her gaze falls inadvertently on Will's one. It's an old habit, strengthened over the years, that struggles to wane. She never liked to meet his empty chair and still doesn't today. There's an incompleteness of some sort. It's been only a week since his visit. Seven interminable days during which her overactive mind has been stewing and jamming, on and off, falling back unfailingly to the few words exchanged in her apartment. She knows she would have ended up making the same choice, with or without his approval, but his words the night he left somewhat lifted that horrible burden off her scruples.
She peeps around, her curious gaze meeting the equally curious – and sometimes skeptical – ones of a few staff's members walking by with disastrous discretion. It definitely feels like being back home, although to a home where something is missing. She hints a smile, content with the idea of being here, though at the same time she knows it's not the same place and people she left. Not all the associates at Florrick & Agos accepted what in their eyes was seen as a downfall, and she doesn't blame their choice to fly off.
The discussion is not devoid of some strain. Cary's hostility is no secret, and the monetary share specifically has always been the primary bone of contention, but by some means they manage to find a reasonable compromise. Will would never make compromises, he never did. But he's not here, is he? Things change and we have to adjust.
Seventy-something minutes and a bunch of split differences later, the merger is finally defined in its tiniest details and ready to go, the newly found alliance sealed with resolute shakes of hands. Standing and about to leave, Alicia is stopped on the doorway by Diane, who gently asks for one more moment of her time. With a nod and a quick exchange of looks, she tells Cary that she'll join him in a minute, and when he's out of hearing she gives Diane her full attention.
"I still can't believe we did it," Diane jokes, but the relief in her modest smile is undeniable.
"We really did…" Alicia nods and smiles back, still unbelieving that they all came out unscathed from the meeting and that gloves didn't come off.
"Is everything okay?" Diane murmurs, a touch of thoughtfulness in her voice.
At first, Alicia is a bit baffled by a question she can't understand, but she does her best not to show it and hints a smile. "Sure, why?"
"I know that the personal involvement might make everything more complicated," Diane explains quietly, and the way she emphasizes the word involvement gives away what she intends.
Alicia stiffens. Imperceptibly, but she knows her body betrays her. "There isn't any involvement," she denies, banishing the thorny truth with all her being. "I learned not to mix things that shouldn't be mixed." Her features are impassive, but inwardly she's smiling bitterly at the absurd insincerity of her own words. You're mixing things. I never do that. It's an eternity but Will's words still strike her. Her gaze falls back on his office, this time purposely. Empty. Ironically enough, his absence sort of proves him guilty of her same lie, doesn't it? "Diane, can I ask you something?" As she looks back at her now equal partner, she notices her staring at the same clean desk.
"Of course, what?" Diane agrees, shifting her gaze back on those present.
Alicia hangs back, not totally sure she should ask this. She suspects there is an element of personal involvement, of a different nature from hers but even so deep. Yet, she gives it a try. "Why is Will's office still empty? I mean… I was expecting… Well, I don't really know what I was expecting." For vultures to swoop on his seat, she assumes and laughs mildly.
Diane's soft laugh reassures her that her question didn't cross any undefined boundary.
"I don't know," Diane shrugs, her eyes back on his office. "I guess I never believed he would really stay in New York after his contract's expiration, but I was clearly wrong."
His contract's expiration?
Alicia gapes, unable to process the information, her smile starting to vacillate. There are definitely some clues missing. Her furrowed brows in confusion, she hesitates then repeats that single word. "Contract?"
"Yes, the biennial contract for the new branch's management," Diane answers in all calmness.
A two-year contract? What does that mean? That he was supposed to be back? That the branch in New York City was just some sort of break? What's supposed to happen to him after those two years? "I… I thought he had just… left." She has to summon a good amount of self-control to hide the effect this piece of news has on her and judging by Diane's regretful look, her endeavor is a complete waste. She has to go back a week in time to try to gather the hints she missed or overlooked along the way. She remembers the impression he was holding back something the night he left, and now wonders if this is what he didn't want to share. Maybe she should have pressed him. Or maybe not?
"I… I thought you knew." Diane's murmured words can do little in this moment.
She didn't know. Will didn't tell her. Will probably didn't want her to know this detail at all. Her mind is intent on that deadline, as she looks up and shakes her head faintly in reassurance that Diane did nothing wrong. "It's okay." It's not okay. This is not one bit okay.
"I'm sorry," she apologizes.
"You really shouldn't be," she offers a half-smile, but knows that Diane's apology comes on behalf of someone else.
/././
A two-year contract. Her mind can't think about anything else. Two years, then… then what? Why didn't Will tell her? And how did he even think she would never know in the first place?
Alicia strides restlessly, back and forth, from corner to corner of her living room, her silent phone in her hand. She's subjecting to an imaginary questioning a man who's not even there and has likely no intention to be, her upheaval simmering, more and more close to erupting at each step she takes.
Two years.
Two. Damn. Years.
One gone, that means he could be back in one more. He could. Because Diane's words and disillusion told her that it likely won't ever happen. And in the end she shouldn't feel betrayed - after all, for what she knew he was never meant to come back - but somehow she does.
At first she's mad. At him. At herself. She's hurt and feels almost tricked into believing that maybe they could have been something. This changes everything, right? Or not? In the end he was gone for good. Contract or not, he decided to leave. Then why all this fuss about something that was never meant to happen anyway?
Her breathing is deep and erratic when she finally makes up her mind, stops in the middle of the room and starts to tap furiously on the screen, searching for the number she saved.
At the first ring, she's resolute not to mention anything about the damn contract.
At the second, her determination is already wavering. Maybe she should actually let him know that she knows?
By the time she hears his voice on the other end, all her resolution has brightly gone to hell. "You know, it would have been nice to know about your two-year contract from you," she spits all in one breath. Not a hello. Not a how are you doing. And it feels liberating.
But Will's grunt is an unequivocal sign that he doesn't feel the same way. For a few seconds he just remains silent.
Searching for an excuse? Working out a retort? Knowing Will, it might easily be both.
"It would have been nice to know about the merger from you but that didn't happen either." Eventually, he tries to get even.
It's definitely the second. "Oh come on. We…"
"What would have changed?" Will's question cuts her protest.
What would have changed? Nothing? Everything? She's being taken away any possibility to ponder her options and this is probably what flusters and winds her up the most. "I don't know. That maybe I would have made a different choice!" No. She would have made the same choice and she knows, or at least tries to convince herself, that this has nothing to do with the missed chance of him to come back. And his apparent calm only manages to fuel the flame of her bitterness.
"Why?" A simple question. Or leastwise it sounds like that.
But still waters run deep, and Alicia suspects that with his quietness he's definitely trying to lead her somewhere. "What does that mean?"
"Why would you want to make a different choice?" he asks, in the same calm tone. And she's not entirely sure whether it's really calmness or he's treading the boards.
"Because there is an office there, empty, because Diane is still hoping for you to come back." She shouldn't bring Diane in the picture, when their common partner has obviously nothing to do with it. But somehow she hopes that this might hit some susceptible nerve and shake him.
"Great. It's yours!" His voice rises in a fit of frustration.
She succeeded, even though this was not the answer she pictured. "I don't want your office!"
"Then, what?" His tone is lower, yet sore to the brim.
Alicia inhales deeply to simmer down. She moves to the couch, considers sitting down but her nerves are too tense and refuse to obey, forcing her to walk her turmoil off. "That's why we didn't talk? When you came? You didn't want to give me an option?" She tries to keep her temper but her slightly pitched voice comes out fragmented, betraying her bitterness. And when Will takes his time to answer, she gets the confirmation that she's right.
"I didn't want to delude ourselves," he explains.
"Excuses." One single sharp-edged word to take his flimsy defense to pieces.
And the sudden silence screams of unfought defeat.
For an absurdly long amount of time all she can hear is his deep, strained breathing, as she lets herself sink onto the couch, all her hopes beaten.
"What do you want, Alicia?" Of all the questions he could pose, he chose the one she doesn't have an answer to.
Not one that would make sense, that's sure. What do I want? "I don't know, but not this." This has to be the worst she has felt in a long time, worsened and aggravated by the memory of the volcanic rendezvous from a few weeks ago. This tastes bitter and not what she wants. It's her only certainty, as she takes a deep, silent breath, then shakes her head, eyes closed to lock out the picture of his reaction to what she's about to speak. "Maybe we could… try." The words slip out, shrugged tentatively, almost whispered. She bites her upper lip, mentally chastising herself for the audacity of an offer he might not want anymore. Yet, she tries.