Feels Like Home
Chapter 11
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So let me do to you
What you've always done for me
And let me be the ground
Underneath your feet
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"I don't give a damn about fucking Vanderbilt or Meyers."
Harvey's raised voice alerts Donna as she comes in from the balcony with a magazine in her hand. The weather continues to be nice and sitting in her egg chair is a way to soak up some much welcome vitamin D, paired with the city noise without actually having to be in the crowd.
"Well I do," Harvey bites, throwing his earpiece on his desk. A sign the conversation has apparently ended.
Donna raises her eyebrows but Harvey looks away stubbornly. She knows he doesn't want to get into it with her but he will have to and by the sounds of it sooner rather than later.
"I'll go pick up this package," she says cheerily, waving the in-house app that just gave them both a notification.
Harvey is momentarily stunned and by the time he has regained speech, Donna is out of the door.
A few minutes later she returns, carrying three packages. "Aren't we popular today?" She smiles. "This one is yours," handing him a small package.
Harvey is still seething and absentmindedly accepts it.
"What did you order?" he asks her as she tears the carton of the first box.
"I didn't. They are from Rachel and my mom according to the return addresses." Her voice is all excited as a book and handwritten note fall out.
Her face lights up as she reads the note. She carefully pushes it aside to open the other package.
"Saltwater taffy!" Shaking out the contents from the box, she grabs the accompanying card as Harvey rolls closer.
His hand sneaks up over the armrest of the couch and he is this close to grabbing a taffy when Donna bats his hand away.
"Mine, Specter!"
His lips form a big pout. "You open up your house, you let her sleep in your bed and what do you get? A slap on the wrist. Women these days… so ungrateful."
"Fine," Donna replies begrudgingly. "No need to get all dramatic over a taffy. Geez, Harvey." She rolls her eyes at him and gives him a piece.
He unwraps it and pops the pink taffy in his mouth. "Who are they from?"
"My mom. They went to Cape Cod like we did when I was little."
"Strawberry," Harvey exclaims.
Donna nods. "Uh-huh. One summer I tried every flavor they had but in the end, I preferred strawberry the most. Simple but delicious."
"You don't say," Harvey mumbles. "So you're telling me you've always had a thing for strawberries then?" He looks up at her innocently.
"Strawberries yes, cocky men no." She quickly raises her eyebrows at him, stroking her neckline, and then readjusts her scarf.
Harvey groans and grabs her leg to pull her closer. She obeys and places her hands on his shoulders, looking down on him.
"You didn't mind the cockiness one bit that night, you know."
"We all have our youthly sins."
"Huh," Harvey's face falls. He stares at her intently, then clears his throat.
With a quick shake of the head, he says, "Way to hurt a man's feelings. Next, you're gonna tell me I wasn't the best you ever had."
Donna opens her mouth to speak but he squeezes the back of her legs with a nervous smile.
"Let's just not go there." He pokes his tongue into the inside of his cheek.
He lets go of her, attempting to roll back to his desk but Donna keeps hold of his shoulders. She nudges his legs with her knee and shuffles closer.
Instinctively his hands find her waist and his head tips back to look her in the eye.
"For all your cockiness, I always knew that if I needed it, you'd be there for me. You've always been. Maybe not in an obvious way but I know you care."
"I care," Harvey says softly. "I care a hell of a lot." His voice sounds hoarse and he swallows down a lump.
Donna studies his face. "What is it?"
He scoffs. "I have to go back to the office. Or at least Louis thinks I do."
"That's okay," she replies gently.
"No, it's not. You need me here."
She lowers herself on his knee. He encircles his arms around her waist immediately.
"Are you planning on kicking me out?"
Harvey looks taken aback. "No!" He pulls back to look her into the eyes, softly shaking his head. "You can stay as long as you want. Or need. Or…"
"Well, then you'll still be here for me. I'll see you in the morning and at night." She looks at him calmly and her lips curl into a smile. "And I'm sure you'll be in touch during the day."
He lets out a soft sigh. She can still do that.
"I sure will."
"Then it's okay, really. You've been by my side longer than I ever expected you to when you brought me here."
He purses his lips.
"Just because you didn't expect much, it doesn't mean that I…"
"Harvey," she interrupts him. "Look at what you've done for me." She gestures to the balcony. "You've created a wonderful safe haven for me to be outside. I have a mindfulness area here." She points towards the dining corner.
They had turned the table so that behind it there is a permanent place for her yoga mat and other essentials. Since her cast came off she's been using it daily. He isn't going to admit how often he has pulled a book from the corner of the bookcase he didn't need or how yesterday he kept refilling his coffee cup so many times during her yoga hour that he felt restless the rest of the day. He will miss being around her, watching her. The view in his corner office doesn't compare.
"Go back to being Harvey Specter, best closer this city has ever seen." She fingers the hem of his dress shirt, running her fingers tips over the initials that are sewn in there. "You haven't fully suited up in weeks. Put on that armor and be you."
"Okay."
He leans forward and rests his forehead against hers, closing his eyes, breathing her in.
"I should…"
"Get back to work, yes." Donna's eyes snap open as she withdraws from him.
"Call Louis," he adds reluctantly.
As she wants to retreat back to the sofa, he grabs her hand.
"Hey, if you—" he trails off.
She nods. "I know."
With a soft "Good" he returns to his desk.
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Monday
Harvey's been on a run, picked up breakfast at Ines and now he's sitting on the edge of the bed, showered and fully suited.
Donna has rolled over to the warm spot he left behind but she didn't notice him extracting himself from her.
He is not sure at what time he noticed her being jittery but she probably missed enough hours of sleep before he pulled her close, running his fingertips lightly over her back, finally allowing her to slip into a calm sleep.
"Donna," he calls quietly, "hey." He brushes a few strands of hair from her face before squeezing her hand.
A groan escapes from her throat and he takes it as a sign she can hear him.
"I have to go. The machine is filled. You just have to push one button to have fresh coffee. There's an apple cinnamon danish from Ines on the counter waiting for you to take a bite of its flaky, buttery dough."
Donna snorts at his sales pitch of the Danish.
"Your fruit salad is in the fridge. Please have some yogurt with it today. Or crackers or anything with sustenance really. Your alarm goes off in an hour for your appointment with Hilli. Ray will be back in time to pick you up. I will make sure I don't have any offsite meetings on Mondays and Thursdays so that he is at your disposal those days."
He rubs his freshly shaven jaw. His stomach clenching as he talks.
"I work until five. Depending on the traffic, I should always be back at six at the latest. I will cook dinner or bring takeout. I will text you when I leave. I will keep in touch during the day as well. If I don't respond soon enough when needed, call the office and have me pulled out of my meeting. I need you to do that."
He squeezes her hand again and she squeezes back so he takes it as a yes.
He glances at the clock and sighs. "I should go." He goes to stand up but then turns back to her, leaning in, whispering huskily, "I hope you have a good day," and presses a soft kiss on her forehead.
He's at the door when he turns around. "Please call me when—"
"I will," Donna mumbles, snuggling into his pillow.
He closes the sliding doors with his heart hammering in his chest and ponders if it is too early to call Mike.
"It's me!" Harvey yells as he opens his front door. He takes the pizza boxes to the kitchen, dumping them on the counter together with his keys.
Donna throws him a small smile from the couch, holding the book Rachel sent her. He takes it as a good sign.
He turns on the oven as its clock tells him it is 5:34 pm. Louis had grumbled when he left but he is just glad he gets to keep his promise.
"Everyone says a big fat hi. You are missed."
Harvey shoves the pizza into the oven. Gianno's has the best pizza but it is located across the office and he likes his pizza piping hot.
He washes his hands, noticing a half-eaten Danish on a plate. As he grabs a soda from the fridge he quickly checks the shelves. The fruit salad is gone so together with the pastry it is okay considering.
"I got you those yellow tomatoes that you like." He sits down next to her.
"Thank you."
"I'm too tired to cook today. I had forgotten about all the office drama. It drains the energy." He lets his head fall back on the sofa.
"Anything I should know?"
"Nothing I didn't text you already."
Harvey had texted her every hour, on the dot. She suspects he has a notification on his phone set up, solely for this purpose. Picturing him, searching his desk every time the alarm sounds, cutting anyone off mid-sentence, and making them wait until he's done, is what got her through the day.
"How was your day?"
She shrugs. "Okay."
"How was your session with Hilli?"
She shrugs again. "Okay, too." She too rests her head at the back of the couch.
Harvey studies her face. "It was weird not seeing you all day."
"So weird."
He reaches over. Her hair is on top of her head in a bun. A look he absolutely loves because he only gets to see it here, in his apartment. He tucks the stray lock that's come loose behind her ear and his thumb lingers. Softly brushing her cheek, then her jawline. "What do you need?" he says gruffly, his voice a mere whisper.
"Can I get a hug?"
"Always."
He opens his right arm and she nestles in the crook of it. He wraps his other arm around her as well and draws her into his chest.
"You don't need to ask me these things. Just come up to me to get what you need," he tells her softly, his breath against her hair.
With the absence of strands to run his fingers through, he plays with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. She just listens to his heartbeat, feeling a calmness flooding into her body that she hasn't felt all day.
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Tuesday
Harvey rifles through the shopping bag for some shallots.
Donna texted him this morning that they were out of yogurt and his response had been to set up a shared cart in the instacart app.
To his surprise, she added quite some items so he added some dinner items during his lunch break and ordered. He timed his arrival home with the delivery because he didn't want Donna having to face a stranger.
There are three bags and Donna is stashing everything exactly where it is supposed to go while he makes dinner. Which feels oddly comfortable somehow.
He finely dices a shallot and a clove of garlic when he sees her putting the bottle of rosé in the fridge.
"That bottle is for right now."
"But it isn't cold?"
He chuckles. "Not to drink, it goes into the sauce."
She examines the contents on the counter. "What are you making?"
"Salmon with rosé sauce and risotto."
Her left eyebrow takes a quizzical dip.
"Don't look so surprised, woman. You've seen me cook lately."
"Nothing like this."
He shrugs. "My brother owns a restaurant. We can cook."
Donna leans against the counter, watching him expertly dice another shallot. She slowly arches another eyebrow.
"Marcus stayed with me when he was following this culinary course here in the city."
Donna nods. "I remember that. He drove you up the wall with all the empty cartons in the fridge."
He throws her a soft smile. It was a long time ago but she had been there. She's been by his side for so long that he doesn't even remember what life was like before her. Being in the office without her presence is unsettling and keeping in touch during the day is definitely not just for her sake.
"He practiced for hours to dice onions and cut carrots julienne. Sometimes I joined him. There was a world of hurt between us and sitting in companionable silence each focusing on whatever piece of vegetable was in front of us brought more comfort than any words could."
Donna's eyes are gentle. "Silence is not empty, it's full of answer."
She returns to stashing more of their groceries away. "I'm surprised it didn't end in a contest between the two of you."
Harvey stirs the risotto. "Of course it did. In the end, we compared notes and declared a winner. To this day it'll remain the only subject Marcus has beaten me.
Donna rolls her eyes. "Of course. Life is a game, play to win."
"Every lawyer hates to lose. Otherwise, you are in the wrong field."
Donna shakes her head. That cocky young lawyer is still in there alright.
Harvey is emptying the last bag, searching for a container of dill. He stacks everything on the counter. Coffee beans, sugar, raisins, tampons, almonds, walnuts, Advil.
He glances at her. "Are you okay?"
A frown creases her forehead. "Because I'm having my period?"
"Well, yeah."
He finds the dill, seasons the salmon, and places it in a baking tray in the oven.
"You never asked me that before."
He sets the timer and turns around. "Well that was business and this is personal."
She sets about to store away the last items.
"What do you want to know?" she asks with her back turned at him.
"Well the Advil tells me it's not a painless ordeal," he reasons, adding more broth to the pan. "Maybe there's something I can do. A heating pad, make herbal tea, offer myself to be snapped and snarled at."
"Have you ever caught me PMSing in the past thirteen years?"
"No, but I expect you to be professional at work. At home is different."
Donna hoists herself up a chair at the counter. She looks at Harvey's hands capably stirring the risotto.
She doesn't even know where to begin. Him digging up her tampons out of his grocery bag without batting an eyelid, saying she's at home, the fact it is so so personal with not an ounce professional and they don't do that. Except for the past three weeks they do and she didn't stop to think about any of that until now.
She hesitates, watching him as he eyes her with a gentleness he doesn't exhibit at work and then settles for a "Herbal tea would be great."
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Wednesday
Donna can feel his eyes bore into her as Harvey is scraping most of her dinner into the bin, again.
Some days she is doing alright but today is extremely bad. She can't help it though, her anxiety is off the charts. Not that she is willing to admit that to him. She has a feeling he's already stressed enough.
As Harvey stacks the dishwasher, she wipes the counter clean and then places a cling film covered bowl in front of them.
"I soaked currants and sultanas in strong tea and whiskey."
This piques Harvey's interest and he moves closer to sneak a glance into the bowl.
"What are we making?"
"Barmbrack!" Donna's eyes gleam.
"No!" he mockingly clutches his chest. "I started to think this recipe would not leave the Paulsen family walls."
He reaches forward to pick a sultana out of the bowl but she slaps his wrist.
"Stop stealing food."
"Oh come on, it's soaked in whiskey. It's gonna be so good," he pouts.
"You can taste the end result."
"I paid for those groceries, you know."
Harvey bends to dump a tablet in the dishwasher and start the machine. He is totally ribbing her but Donna misses his smirk.
"You're right. I'm not in the right headspace to think of these things myself but I should start to pay for my share around here." Donna tries to wrap the foil around the bowl again. "I'll fix it right now."
Harvey tries to grab her hand but she makes a quick beeline for the bedroom and his hand clenches into a fist. He tips his head backward, closing his eyes and it takes every ounce of self-restraint to not take a swipe at everything in his peripheral vision on the counter.
"How much do I owe you?" Donna waves her checkbook. "Let's see—" Leaning on the counter, she counts on her fingers. "It's been three weeks…"
She fills in his details as his shoulders sag. He massages his neck, tension building in every muscle. "Donna stop," he pleads.
"Is a thousand dollars enough for now?" She doesn't look him in the eye as she mentions the sum.
"For a few groceries?" He blinks, and again, and again. She couldn't be serious.
Gesturing to the transformation of his balcony, she makes it clear she most definitely is. "You did all that."
"It's my balcony," he says exasperated. Feeling the need to face away, he crouches down at the oven underneath the stove, his back turned at her, where he fiddles with the baking trays. "You know I don't care about the money." The words leave his mouth steadier than he feels.
"Well, I don't want to owe you." Her voice is clipped and he hears the pen scratching on the paper as she signs the check.
"You don't owe me a damn thing!" he booms so loudly that she is visibly startled and he instantly feels guilty that he didn't manage to keep his cool. He quickly returns to full height and reaches over the sink. Wrapping his fingers around her pen, he pleads again, "Please, stop."
The pen slips from her grip and he tosses it aside. His dark eyes settle directly on hers. The flicker of irritation in her hazel ones doesn't escape him. His eyes sink and involuntarily he sighs.
"If anyone owes anyone here, it is me. You've taken care of me for years. Let me take care of you. I can't help but feel offended that you think I want anything in return. Where is your faith in me?" The words come out with much more emotion than he intended and every muscle in his body tenses, his jaw taut.
Donna folds her arms defensively, averting her eyes from his gaze, focusing on a spot on the cabinets behind his head. "I have all the faith in the world in you," she croaks. "It is me I have lost faith in." Her throat is parched and she bites her lip. "I'm not me. I am a mere shadow of my former self." With a trembling chin, she shrugs and meets his gaze with tearful eyes. "I feel so lost."
A sharp pain hits Harvey in the chest. She is voicing what he's been seeing for weeks now. It must be agony to be so aware of your situation but not having the power to fix it. His gut reaction is to scoop her up in his arms and tell her everything will be alright. But it's not alright and there's a good chance it might be a long time before she feels anything like herself again.
He scans her posture and it is guarded. She's barely holding it together. If he runs to her now she falls apart and he senses that is the one thing she doesn't want right now. So he opts to stretch out his arm over the counter and holds out his hand.
Reluctantly she lets one arm fall to slowly grasp it. As soon as he feels her touch his fingers, he wraps his hand around hers and squeezes it for reassurance. He brushes his thumb over the back of her hand as he scans her face. His eyes meet hers and he plasters on the most confident look he can muster. "We've got this. You will feel like you again."
She doesn't respond and her quietness, while swallowing excessively, tells him enough. He lets her hand slip and moves the bowl of whiskey-infused fruit closer. "So barmbrack? I'm ready to fetch a spoon and just dig straight into this bowl."
Donna closes her eyes, shakes her head repeatedly, and then marches over to his side. With a bump to his hips, she demands, "Get a loaf pan before your drool hits the bowl, mister."
Harvey dutifully obliges with a small smirk.
It's about ten minutes later when she is elbow deep into a bowl of wet dough, that she softly bumps his shoulder with hers. "Thank you," she mumbles.
He throws her a soft look and then a smug smile forms on his lips. He produces a coin and throws it in the bowl of dough. "Thank me later when you crack your tooth on this."
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Thursday
Donna is staring at the ceiling. Again. Tomorrow, or actually today, as it is 4 am in the morning, she has another session with Hilli and she just knows it's going to be brutal. It's the only way to heal but it's everything she doesn't want to face. She tries to stop it but just the idea of the appointment has her head replaying all the images all over again.
Her heart plummets into the pit of her stomach as the most painful image of all is what her brain seems to be stuck on. Nausea creeps up and her surroundings begin to look fuzzy. Her brain is foggy but she grips the sheet on the mattress and in doing so she brushes against Harvey's back.
The accidental touch temporarily lifts the cloud though and Harvey's words from a few days ago replay in her head.
"Come up to me to get what you need."
She isn't sure if four in the morning is what he had in mind but he won't be angry. She is 99% sure of that. Before she can change her mind, the roar of blood raging in her ears, she rolls over to him.
His back is facing her, accompanied by a soft snore. He had a beer this evening and she noticed a pattern. That is when he snores. Not very loud and she is usually awake anyway. She has the information stored for another time when she is in the mood to mock him.
Harvey is wearing a black fitted tee and she is pretty sure he started doing that the day they started sharing a bed. She presses her body against his back, as close as possible, to feel a connection, his gentle snores sounding louder, doing its best to drown out the roar of blood.
What she really needs is to feel his breathing, so she can time hers with it, to stay in the here and now instead of falling down the rabbit hole of that fatal night.
Slowly she lifts her arm, lightly grazing his side with her hand, desperately trying not to wake him up.
But then his hand grabs hers and brings it to his chest. Their arms entwined, she can feel his heart beating. She shuffles closer and his grip tightens. With her nose in his neck, she breathes in his scent and is hit with a whole different image of them in a bar, shaking hands, the first time she was close enough to get a hint of his sandalwood and cedar tones. Breathing out a shuddering sigh, a tingling warmth spreads through her limbs. This man has the capability to release her of all bodily tension, even in his sleep. She closes her eyes and leaves the implications of what that means for another day.