Author's note #1: This chapter took me ages to perfect. I hope it delivers. It's definitely long, to make up for all that waiting time… I hope you are all healthy and safe, and I hope this chapter will brighten your day or evening. I loved writing it, and had been looking for it ever since I started this story back in 2013. Can you imagine.
Author's note #2: Will refers to a specific night in his office, with that I mean the night I described in chapter 4 (flashback). It wasn't in the show.
Summary: force ma·jeure noun \ˌfȯrs-mä-ˈzhər, -mə-\ 1: superior or irresistible force. 2: an event or effect that cannot be reasonably anticipated or controlled. Alicia & Will, seven months after she left L/G: "Sometimes I think there's just no avoiding it," he continues. "What?" I give him a puzzled look."Us," he stares straight into my eyes as he says that. The intensity throws me off guard.
Thanks: To all of you who come back to read, leave a review and have been incredibly patient. Every review means the world to me and has encouraged me to continue.

Force Majeure

Chapter 22 - Reconnecting

"Haven't you had enough of all of this? Haven't you had enough of loneliness?"
– Lewis Capaldi (Don't get me wrong)

Friday, 5:10 PM

We're sitting at the corner of the bar. Will on the short side, to my left. Me on the long side.

It's a busy Friday afternoon. This place is getting more crowded by the second. A group of young men is celebrating something in the corner behind me. It's loud. When we walked in an hour ago, I thought that this wouldn't be the right place to continue this… session we're in. But I now realise it's a good thing to have some background noise. To not forget that there's still a world around us. Something we both tend to forget whenever we're alone together.

I'm not sure if our talks have brought us any further, but at least the mood isn't as tense as a few hours before. Will seems less distant, less hard on me. The look on his face is more relaxed now. He sometimes has this small twitching muscle in his jaw whenever he's stressed. I don't see it now.

"Do you remember the last time we had a glass of wine together?" He asks and sips from his wine.

"I don't think I do. You?"

"It's been over two years." He takes another sip. "At least."

I nod slowly. "Was it worth it?"

He gives me a confused look.

"Avoiding each other," I explain.

He briefly looks into my eyes, then back to his glass. "Am I the right person to answer that question?"

I smile. I take in the moment we're having. The two of us, sitting next to each other, having a civil conversation. Suddenly, the dynamic between us has become less suffocating. It's not like there's no tension between us, I don't think that will ever change. But it's enjoyable, at least.

I watch him drink his wine. The frown on his face tells me he's thinking about something. Maybe he's also unsure of what we're doing. If this is going anywhere and if so, where to. Maybe he's thinking that we shouldn't be having this moment after all. Maybe he regrets proposing to have a drink together. Perhaps he even regrets calling me in the first place. I disappointed him, deeply. I know I did. He wanted to make a plan, and I never let him. But I had to follow my own plan first, and I hoped that he would understand but now, I'm not so sure.

I let out a deep sigh.

"What?" He gives me a questioning look.

"I'm sorry for everything that happened between us," I just say. My voice is hoarse.

He looks at me, still with that slight frown. His eyes find mine, but he doesn't say anything. The moment feels like an eternity. Him looking at me, me looking back. I don't know what to say next. He seems to be contemplating his response.

"Don't be," he then says indifferently. "Maybe it all brought us to where we are now."

"Is now a good place?"

"It could be."

Friday, 6:23 PM

We're both well on our way with our third glass of wine. We've been talking about the trial, about Zach and Grace and how his new junior associate isn't doing as well as he hoped. I think we're both pleasantly surprised by the fact that we're still here. We certainly have enough of catching up to do.

"So, you haven't set foot in any parking garages since that night?" Will asks.

I'm not sure if I feel like talking about this. "Yeah," I try to respond casually and manage to give him some sort of smile. "It's ridiculous, I know."

He shakes his head. "No, it's not. It makes perfect sense."

"Well," I reply and down the last of my wine. "It's definitely inconvenient." I snap my fingers to get the attention of the bartender. "Two tequila please."

"God," Will smirks and glances at his watch. "You're in a hurry."

I grab the salt and lime from the bar. "Well, you started about garages. Now I need something stronger," I explain and hand him the lime. Accidentally, my hand briefly touches his as I do so. We both register it, I can tell, but we pretend that we don't.

"Fair enough," he grins as we both pour the salt on our hand.

The bartender pours us a shot glass each.

"Cheers," I say and look him in the eyes.

"Cheers."

We lick the salt and down the tequila.

Will grunts in disgust as he bites his lime. "You have bad taste," he grins and licks his fingers.

It makes me laugh. I'm not sure whether it was that brief moment of physical contact, the tequila or the combination of the two, but I suddenly feel more at ease.

Friday, 7:12 PM

The bartender refills our wine glasses and serves us the nachos that Will ordered for us. I must admit they don't look very appetising.

"Is that cheese or melted rubber?" I ask a bit disgusted.

"Let's see," he says as he digs in and takes a bite. He thinks for a moment. "Rubber," he concludes. "Definitely rubber."

The look on his face makes me laugh.

"We are sharing these though." He pushes the bowl over to my side.

"I'm not that hungry."

"You should eat something. Go ahead, they're not that bad."

Reluctantly I take a bite.

"The wet cardboard flavour of the nachos definitely complements that rubber nicely," I sarcastically say and push the bowl back to his side.

Will laughs at that. "God, you're funny…"

I smile and drink my wine. "Well, it's the truth."

"Yeah," he looks around the bar. "I guess we opted for higher standards before."

"Like 7800 dollar presidential suites?" I joke.

"Exactly," he says and takes a sip. "Where's Jerome now?"

It makes me smile. That night was crazy. I had been nervous at first, but once we closed that door I realised how confident I felt that it was the right decision. It was the only way. And I had felt so loved, so desired and most of all, so safe, with him. It was just the two of us and just that one time, all the rest didn't matter.

I let out a shivery breath at the thought of all that and look at him. That one muscle in his jaw is tightened again. Maybe I shouldn't have made that joke.

"The wine is good though," I try and lighten the mood.

"It is."

A silence falls, and I realise that there's still plenty to be said.

"I know it was selfish," I say.

"What was?"

"Everything, really." I sigh and lean my head on my hand as I look at him. "I walked away from you. And you're right. What you said outside earlier, we did the deserve a conversation."

"We're talking now," he shrugs.

"No, I just mean, we should have talked earlier. Back then."

"Yeah well, things need time."

"So much time though?" I joke light-heartedly

Will smiles, but doesn't answer. "I get why you left…," he continues instead.

Because I told you I was starting to fall in love with you again, I think to myself. it suddenly hits me again. I shouldn't have.

"…And yes, it was a selfish move. But it's good to be selfish sometimes. It looks good on you."

"What does that mean?"

"You were always too polite. Always… pleasing everyone, always on your best behaviour… Constantly doubting yourself, asking if you were good enough. I never knew how to convince you that you were. I now get it was something you had to see for yourself. So it's good, that you were selfish. Because now you know. You're a good lawyer. And you run your own firm."

I didn't expect him to say all that. I nod slowly. "Maybe you're right."

We look in each others eyes again.

"Thank you," I say.

"I don't like to hold grudges, Alicia."

"I know." I look in his eyes. "I'd really like it if we could… move on. Clear the air."

"Perhaps you and I burying the hatchet can be a part of that."

"I'd love to," I murmur and instinctively reach out to his hand.

He wraps his fingers around my hand and squeezes gently. "Alicia, we're okay."

I bite my lip in an attempt to fight the tears stinging behind my eyes, but he can tell my eyes are watery. Those words means the world to me. Immediately, a huge weight is lifted off my shoulders. It feels as if I can breathe again.

He gives me a soft smile.

"You know, I didn't take it lightly. What happened to you."

"Will, I know that."

"No, I mean I really didn't." he continues. "It scared the hell out of me," his voice breaks.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that," I say softly.

"I remember thinking, what if she's not breathing. I didn't know how to do CPR. I never paid attention during those courses. I always had an excuse to walk out, you know?"

He's staring at his glass. I realise he's still holding my hand.

"You did everything right," I reassure him. "And I was fine."

"You were not fine, Alicia."

"Well, I am now." I take my glass and drink the last sip of my wine. "See?" I tease.

He gives me a doubtful smile and lets go of my hand. "So, do you have anyone to talk to?"

"As in therapy? God no…. But Owen has been coming by each week with an overpriced bottle of wine."

"Ha," he laughs. "Sounds excellent."

I nod. "Works wonders."

Our wine glasses are being refilled again. I'm losing count.

"Owen…" Will mumbles. "How is he?"

"Good," I smile. "He's good. Always… very interested in you." It's out before I realise. I shouldn't have said that. The alcohol has definitely kicked in.

"Man with a mission," he grins and takes a sip from his newly refilled glas. "At least you can report back that we had a drink together." His eyes find mine. "Will that do?"

I spot a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that I haven't seen for a long, long time. Is he flirting with me? It's making me blush. I'm not sure how to take this.

"For now… yes," I decide to respond, slightly confused. I might be flirting back.

He nods, seemingly satisfied.

Friday, 8:51 PM

The amount of people in here has at least doubled compared to when we arrived. The music has been turned up and everyone is becoming louder and bolder. And apparently, so are we.

"In the context of clearing the air, can I just ask…What happened, that night in my office?"

I immediately know what he's hinting at. That night during the class action.

"Error of judgement?" He asks.

"We didn't connect," I simply reply.

"We definitely didn't. Why?"

I sigh and take my wine in my hand. "Because you hated me," I state matter-of-factly.

"I never hated you."

"You definitely didn't like me either." I take a sip. "We shouldn't have done… that… anyway, in your office," I continue. "That was the error of judgement."

"We didn't think so before," he says. The mischievous look is back in his eyes. He's flirting again.

"Nope," I smile.

I glance at my watch and see it's almost nine. We've been talking for six hours straight, I realise.

"Yeah, it's getting late," Will replies as he sees me staring at my watch.

Friday, 9:05 PM

We decided to ask for the bill and leave. It wasn't until I got up from the bar stool that I noticed how much I had to drink. I'm glad we're leaving, because Zach is coming home tomorrow morning and I need to sleep off this hangover.

We both step outside the bar. It's already dark. The air is even colder than this afternoon.

I clear my throat. "I don't think I should drive. And neither should you."

"Probably for the best," he nods. "I'll get us an Uber."

I look at him as he stands there. He looks good, handsome. And it's so refreshing to stand next to him without that awful feeling in my stomach that we're not OK.

"I'm glad we talked," I say.

"Me too."

"I didn't think we would."

"Really?" He cocks his head.

"Well yeah… I…"

"No," he shakes his head. "We've always reconnected."

I nod.

"Sometimes I think there's just no avoiding it," he continues.

"What?" I give him a puzzled look.

"Us," he stares straight into my eyes as he says that. The intensity throws me off guard.

I swallow hard as I continue to look at him. He's right. I feel it in this moment, I felt it all night and to be completely honest, I've felt it ever since we bumped into each other in that elevator. I had done everything in my power to move away from that feeling; I worked hard on falling back in love with Peter, I put my family first and chose work over Will, but he's right. There's no avoiding it.

He averts his gaze and stares into the street. "Earlier, outside, you said you were falling in love with me again…"

It makes me blush.

"…Did leaving the firm help with that?" It's a blunt question and he knows it. But it's fair one. He's still looking away from me. I don't really know what to say to that. I now realise that no, it didn't.

"For a while, yes," I decide to answer. "I thought we'd be better off."

He looks back at me with a soft, questioning look. "Are we?"

I shrug. "I missed you," I say quietly.

His lips turn into a sad smile. "Yeah…"

I take a deep breath, pull my hair behind my ear and try to compose myself. "Where do we go from here?"

"I'll see you Wednesday."

"Really Will, you don't have to."

"No I want to. I'll be there."

"That's very sweet," I say barely audible.

"I never stopped caring for you."

"I know," I nod. Because I do. I can tell and it's mutual and I just want to walk up to him and…

"No, I don't think you…-"

I don't let him finish that sentence. I take one step closer towards him and kiss him. A soft, but confident kiss on his lips. A shiver runs down my spine.

I look up to him for a moment, our eyes holding each other. My heart is racing. Instinctively, I place my hand on his cheek and kiss him again. Stronger this time.

He wraps one arm around the small of my back and pulls me closer towards him. The other finds its way to the nape of my neck. Our kiss deepens.

All the muscles in my body relax and tense up at the same time. And for the first time in forever, I don't sense guilt or deep regret when I feel his touch. Because this isn't a mistake, this isn't an error of judgement. This is us. And he's right, there's no avoiding it. And I wouldn't want to either.

As always, a massive thank you for reading. Any feedback is greatly appreciated.

(Preview for next chapter: We skip ahead to Wednesday, the day of the verdict.)