A/N: Thank you for your reviews on chapter 14. As I mentioned, I wasn't too confident about that one, but you helped ease my mind. Welcome to new followers and reviewers, always a pleasure to see that John Elfman is not forgotten just yet ;)

And just in case you start wondering what the hell I think I'm doing after you read the following: please keep in mind that my last name is not King. I want these two to be happy, even though this chapter may make you doubt that…

"Why?" It was Zach who broke the heavy silence that had followed Peter's words. The words that had made the divorce a reality, even if the papers hadn't been signed yet. The boy looked back and forth between his parents while Grace sat next to him, staring down at her clenched hands.

Alicia looked at Peter, who didn't look like he was eager to answer Zach's question. She sighed quietly and tried to explain. "Well, sometimes a marriage just doesn't work out, and…"

"No, I mean why now? You've been pretending for years, so why stop now?" Zach interrupted her. Grace looked up at that, her eyes big, her face pale.

Alicia felt tears burn in her own eyes. Her kids were hurting and there was nothing she could do to make it better. For a brief moment, she wished they could just go back to the way things had been before. Before the scandal, before their world had started falling apart. Then a faded image of that past life popped up in her mind — of her and Ramona in the park, chatting on a bench while their toddlers were playing in the sandbox — and she remembered that their world had started falling apart long before the scandal.

"Let's just say your mother and I are both at a point in our lives where pretending has stopped being useful or necessary," Peter answered Zach's question.

"What your father is trying to say, is that we have both come to realize that we can't make each other, or you, happy anymore by staying together. I wish it was different, but…" Alicia shrugged, not knowing how to go on.

Grace looked from her to Peter and back. "I'm glad we don't have to pretend to be a happy family anymore," she stated quietly. Then she stood up and left the room.

Alicia started to get up as well, wanting to go after her daughter, but Zach spoke up then.

"Can't you just try harder? Both of you?" He looked at Peter when he asked the questions, but then his eyes turned to his mother and she was taken aback by the deep disappointment she read in them.

It made her wonder if she should have done things differently. Not just today, but in their marriage as well. Could she have done more to keep things from falling apart, could she have worked harder to prevent Peter from losing interest in her? Had she tried hard enough?

"No." Peter said in a clear, decisive tone, and for a moment, Alicia thought he was answering her last unspoken question. But he was still talking to Zach. "I will always love your mother, Zach, but I'm done trying to make things work between us."

"Mom?" Sadness made Zach's voice sound years younger.

Leave it to Peter, always the politician, to make it sound like she was the only one to blame — without actually saying he blamed her. Alicia resisted the urge to throw her soon-to-be-ex-husband a dirty look and sighed as she took her son's hand in hers. Two could play that game, she decided. "It takes two committed people to make a marriage work, honey. I've tried my best, and it didn't work out. I'm so very sorry."

Zach pulled his hand free and looked from her to Peter. "Yeah, sure, you're both very sorry. But sorry doesn't buy me anything, does it? Or Grace, for that matter." He got up and strode to the door.

"Zach…" Alicia started.

"I'm going to pack some stuff. I have a plane to catch," he cut her off, and then he was gone, slamming the door of his room shut behind him.

Alicia sank back against the couch and closed her eyes, forcing her tears back. She refused to cry in front of Peter.

"That could have been worse," he observed, unknowingly helping her in her struggle against her tears as irritation at his words replaced the urge to cry.

"How, Peter? How could this have possibly been worse?" she spat.

"They could have found out about Ramona. Or Elfman."

"They will find out about Ramona. Or did you expect you could keep her pregnancy a secret forever? As for John, I already told you I'm not…"

"Before you deny that there is anything going on between you and him," Peter cut her off, "You might want to take a look at the paper."

"W-why?"

"It looks like your friendly reporter went hostile on you."

Alicia got up and went to the dining room table, where she had left the contents of her mailbox, including the Sunday paper that held Davenport's interview. She turned to the front page of the Metro section. And felt her jaw drop as she looked at the picture accompanying the article. There she was, dancing with John at the gala. They were looking deep into each other eyes, and it was clear that this wasn't 'just a dance' from the expressions o their faces and the way they held each other. Her whole body tingled as she remembered the sensation of being in his arms, her body pressed close to his, but she shook it off. She couldn't let that distract her now. Who had taken that picture? It looked like it had been taken with a cell phone… Had Ashey had a phone with her when she threw herself around John's neck? Alicia didn't remember, but she knew it must have been the Rhodes girl. Or… Her eyes travelled across the room where Peter still sat watching her with a strange expression that seemed to be a mix of curiosity, sympathy and a hint of smugness.

He shook his head and sighed. "I'm sorry, Alicia. I really am." He actually sounded sincere.

"Did you…"

"No. I was at the bar with… someone. Then I saw you dancing with him and went straight over. I didn't know anything about that picture until I saw it this morning. I'm sorry," he repeated.

She looked into his eyes, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. If he was, then what was he sorry for?

"Dad, we have to go. My flight." Zach came back in, dropping his duffle bag on the floor. His voice was distant, his eyes were red and puffy.

Alicia quickly put the paper down, shoving it out of sight under the pile of bills and flyers, and walked over to her son. She pulled him in her arms and held on tight, for the first time ever seriously wishing he would have picked a college closer to home, so she wouldn't have to let him go again. Zach held himself rigid at first, but eventually she felt him hug her back, albeit reluctantly. "Call me if you want to talk, okay?" she whispered.

"Okay."

"I'm so sorry we are putting you and Grace through this."

He was quiet for what felt like a century. Then he sighed heavily. "It's not your fault," he said then, letting her go.

Alicia wished she could believe him.

§§§

John left the hospital and headed for the parking garage, taking his phone out as soon as he was out of the no cell phones area. He switched it on, but hadn't missed any calls. Which must mean that Alicia and Peter were still talking to the kids. He wished he could have been there with her, but he'd have to settle for easing her mind about Ashley when she called him. After talking to Ashley, he was sure that she hadn't breathed a word, and wasn't going to either. He didn't have tangible evidence of that to give to Alicia, but he'd seen Ashley's face when he mentioned Will Gardner. She had given him a completely blank look. Of course, there was always the possibility that Ashley Rhodes had missed her calling in life and should have been an actress, but he was willing to bet his bike that she had never heard Will's name before in her life.

The thought of his bike lightened his mood. Trevor Rhodes was doing much better, and he had given John the green light to take tomorrow and Tuesday off. Ashley would stay two more days to handle any PR emergencies. All he needed to do now was get himself a plane ticket and tell Alicia he would be back by Tuesday night, and he was good to go. Maybe he should call her instead of waiting for her? No, he decided as he unlocked his car and got in. If she was still talking to her kids, he would only complicate things for her. But if he hadn't heard from her by six, he would call her. It was now two, he saw when he looked at the dashboard clock, so that gave him four hours to kill.

An hour and a half later, he found himself on a park bench across from his building, his jacket beside him and a cup of coffee in his hand. He closed his eyes, trying to enjoy the feel of the sunlight on his face. Having stopped at a supermarket on the way home he'd bought everything he needed for his little road trip, which wasn't much. He'd also grabbed the Sunday paper, wanting to read Alicia's interview. The paper was currently lying under his jacket to prevent the breeze from catching it. After two minutes of sunbathing, he opened his eyes again and reached for it, curious to see what Trent had made of the interview. He put his coffee down and quickly turned the pages until he found the article — and saw the picture.

"Damn it!" He muttered, unaware of the old lady passing by with her dog and giving him a disapproving frown when she caught his words, as he started to read.

The article started out innocent enough, painting the picture of a strong woman with high moral and ethical values who had worked hard to get justice done, get elected and keep her marriage together. It even had everything John had told Alicia to say during the second interview, which added the much needed layer of humanity to the superwoman. But the second half of the article destroyed everything again by suggesting that Alicia wasn't as much of a family woman as she seemed. Davenport apparently had an 'anonymous source' that knew all the ins and outs of Alicia's love life.

The article summarized the story about Will and Alicia that had first appeared on the blog yesterday, but added some new details to it as well. Near the end of the story, Davenport talked about Alicia being seen with Finn Polmar, having dinner at some fancy restaurant earlier that week. That at least answered John's question about the other guy she'd mentioned, but he put that thought aside to examine it later. The last paragraph was dedicated to Alicia dancing intimately with her former campaign manager at the gala, and the Governor's angry intervention. The final line of the article stated point blank that voters shouldn't be surprised if Alicia Florrick turned out to be even more trouble for Cook County than her husband had been when he was SA.

When he was done reading, John immediately got out his phone again and dialed. "What the hell, Trent?" He said when the reporter picked up.

§§§

After Peter and Zach had left, Alicia read the article, her jaw clenched in growing anger. She should have known better than to trust a reporter, no matter how friendly and laid-back he seemed. She had walked right into that one — and now, once again, her personal life was out there for anyone to see.

Putting the paper down, she went to get her phone and dialed John's number. "Have you seen the paper?" she asked, as soon as he answered.

"Yes."

"Still think Ashley can keep a secret?"

"Alicia… I don't think it was Ashley."

"Oh, come on!" He was still defending the blonde? Alicia wanted to scream at his stubbornness. "Who else could it have been?"

"I don't know. I called Davenport, but he wouldn't tell me. He just said it was a woman, so that at least rules out Peter."

"But not Ashley," Alicia insisted.

"I'm telling you, it wasn't her." There was a hint of impatience in his voice now. "Why can't you just trust me on this?"

"You mean like I did when you said Davenport was a friendly reporter?" As soon as the words left her mouth, she started wishing desperately that she could take them back. It wasn't his fault that she'd trusted the reporter. That was all on her. He had merely been offering her the help she'd asked him for. "John—I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."

He sighed heavily. "Whatever."

She clenched her eyes shut when she picked up on the hurt in his voice, shining right through the indifference he was clearly going for. Silence stretched out between them as she pictured the gap she had sensed — created? — between them that morning growing wider. "John… I…"

"Listen, I'm going out of town for a couple of days," he said, like she hadn't spoken at all. His voice was now all business, like there was no personal connection between them whatsoever, and she hated it.

Then the meaning of his words sank in. He was leaving. "What? W-where are you going?"

"Columbus. I'm going to get my bike. And some other stuff I left there."

Relief washed through her. He wasn't leaving because of her. As for his bike… Alicia remembered an afternoon at campaign headquarters, when she'd overheard Marissa, Josh and John talking about motorcycles over coffee. She also remembered the shiver that had coursed through her when her imagination had immediately provided her with a vivid visual of her campaign manager, wearing black leather and straddling a bike. Looking back, she realized that may very well have been the first time that she had become aware of him in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with getting people to vote for her.

"Alicia?"

"Yes…" She realized he'd been talking to her while she'd been lost in that same image of him and his bike that had distracted her back then. The only difference being that she now knew what he looked like underneath his clothes, which only made the fantasy more appealing… She forced her mind out of the gutter, surprised that it could actually still go there so easily after everything that had happened today, and cleared her throat. "I mean, what were you saying?"

"I said I'll ride back here, so I probably won't be back before Tuesday night." Still in that business voice.

"Oh. Okay." She was overcome by a sudden urge to beg him to take her with him, so she could get away from the mess her life had become, if only for a few days. But then she heard Grace's bedroom door open and her daughter's footsteps approaching. "I-I gotta go now. Grace is here. Bye," she said in a hushed voice.

"Goodbye," she heard him say as she took the phone away from her ear and quickly shoved the paper out of sight before Grace could get a look at the picture. He'd said goodbye. Not just bye. She tried not to worry about the definitive quality of the longer version. But as afternoon turned into evening and she and Grace tried to act like it was just another Sunday night, both exhausted and way from the emotions of the day and needing to recuperate, her thoughts kept coming back to the notion that nothing good had ever come out of goodbye. At least not in her experience.