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“Do you still love her?”
Whoever said that there was no such thing as a stupid question was a goddamn idiot. Alice is fully aware that his situation with Gladys is messy and complicated, just like everything else in his fucked up life. In that very moment, Gladys was back at the trailer packing and making plans for the future alongside their children. Gladys may have left but she came back.
And yet, Alice has the audacity to barge into his office ask if he loves his wife .
What the hell kind of question was that? ‘Does he still love Gladys?’ That’s rich, especially coming from Alice.
“She’s the mother of my children,” he states and Alice winces slightly. There’s probably a better way of explaining the tangled web of emotions, but he’s never been very good at putting words to his feelings. His father had beaten away his ability to express himself years ago.
And maybe… just maybe, there was a part of him that wants to hurt her just like she had hurt him.
Weeks ago—before the quarantine, before FP was Sheriff, before Alice was a full-fledged member of the Farm—she had invited herself over “to talk”. She had barely made it through the door before his lips were on hers. She kissed him back desperately, wrapping her arms tightly around him as though she were scared of letting go.
Afterwards, they lay in his bed, limbs tangled in his sheets, skin glistening in the moonlight.
“We need to end this,” she stated.
He laughed and pulled her close. They’ve both ended things dozens of times in dozens of different ways.
“FP, don’t…” she untangled herself from his embrace, and rolled out of bed. “I mean it. Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
He watched, brows furrowed in confusion, as she searched for her clothes scattered around the room. “You’re serious?”
“Yeah,” she shrugged. Her eyes were misting, but she had clearly made up her mind. “It’s for the best.”
“Okay?” FP pinched the bridge of his nose. This felt different than the other times they had called it quits. There was a certainty to her words that had never been there before. “Alice, where is this coming from?”
“Things change, FP,” Alice’s shoulders slumped. “I can’t explain it…”
“It’s that damn Farm, isn’t it?”
“Even if it were, it wouldn’t change anything,” she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I… I can’t keep doing this. Please, FP. Just accept that.”
“And me? Do you love me, FP?”
As much as it hurts him to see her cry, it also fuels the fire inside of him. Alice is the one who dumped him without an explanation, who sold her house, moved to a commune and doing who-know’s-what with the ever-charming Edgar Evernever.
How could she even ask that question?
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over,” he tells her.
She moved on. How dare she expect him not to do the same?
“I wish it could have been different,” she says softly.
Something inside him snaps. Of all the things she could have said, it had to be that .
"You don't get to do this," he growls. "Alice, you made a choice. Not me, you ."
“I know,” her voice is barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."
"It's too late for that."
"I know," she repeats tearfully. "FP… Can you promise me one thing?"
FP has half a mind to kick her out of his office. Hasn't she asked enough questions today? He looks at her, about to start a sentence he'd regret, when he thinks better of it. This is Alice , standing in front of him with tears shimmering in her eyes and he’s never been able to say no to her.
"Okay fine," he relents. "What is it?"
Her fingers are twisting around her necklace nervously. "Can you please make sure Betty is safe while I'm gone?"
FP frowns. "She not too keen on moving to the Farm with you?"
"It's better this way,” she says sadly.
Alice has spent a lifetime perfecting the art of lying, and he’s spent just as long learning how to read her.
There is something she’s not telling him.
There's a thousand questions firing in his brain, but FP isn’t the type to ask. He’s spent most of his life blindly following orders. It’s a trait that’s gotten him into a few jams, even landed him in Shankshaw just last year. Life is just easier when he can feign ignorance. When he can pretend he didn’t know better, that it wasn’t his fault.
So he nods his head and says "sure thing” before she turns on her heel and makes her exit.
He would do anything for Alice, and that includes letting her walk away.