Alicia's sigh is an angry gust. Her eyes are welling up, at this point. I don't know that she'd be able to put words to the things her mother is doing to her. Reaching into her works, with those little old lady hands, pushing buttons and pulling levers. Pressing old bruises -- Will -- and calling into question things that are already decidedly undecided -- Peter. Coming into her house, after two years of nothing, telling her shit she already knew. Shit that was barely true back when it was true. The sheer nerve, of this flighty idiot, to turn the telescope around and focus on her daughter for no better reason than she feels judged, accurately, as a liar. Like she's the bad guy; like she's the asshole.
Alicia, verbatim: "I look at you sometimes, Mom, and I am just ... amazed."
Veronica, verbatim: "I'm happy! I never do anything I don't want to do."
Alicia: "That sounds terrible to me, actually. The only things I like doing are things I don't want to do. I'm sort of a gladiator in that way."
Veronica, pressing: "Can you say that you're happy?"
Alicia, in tears: "I can say that I'm living the life I want, and I can say there are a lot bigger things..."
Veronica: "Wrong. All that matters is happiness."
It's like the last four years never happened. This woman breezes in, this tiny woman you love so much, and calls bullshit on your entire life. Not metaphorically, not metonymically: She actually looks at your life and pronounces it bullshit. That this four-year journey to the white-hot center of Alicia Florrick, where no fucks are given, is really just Alicia fooling herself. That she is no more of an adult, no more of a person, than she was the day she left him. Or any of the days before that, when she overlooked the telltale signs. That she has every reason to be ashamed. You silly, dumb girl. We're all still laughing at you, just quietly and behind your back. Even Maddie Hayward played you for a sap. Every time you get on that campaign bus you're embarrassing yourself. Ugh, just typing that sentence made me feel sick. I've always loved Alicia, but I've never once felt sorry for her, until this moment. That is some deep, ugly mojo.
If you asked me what could cut to the heart of Alicia Florrick I would have said nothing. That she is strong, and that she feels deeply, but that at least -- most of the time -- she knows what she feels. You can't be caught off-guard very easily, when you're this discreet and quiet and self-aware. If you asked me what could cut her to the bone, I would not know how to do it.