A/N: The feedback and support for this fic has been overwhelming. There is so much of the Darvey story we didn't get, and I have always wanted to fill in those gaps. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Keep up those reviews; nothing make me write faster. Heather, Steph, and Blue - couldn't do this without you!

Chapter 2:

Harvey stands motionless, except for a slight twitch in his fingertips. He feels a heaviness in his chest and tightness in his throat that trigger terrible memories from years before.

Breath. The voice in his head reminds him. In. Out. In. Out.

"Harvey. Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?" Samantha asks, more curious than concerned. She had seen Harvey and Donna having a kind of "hush-hush" conversation, and then she witnessed what happened next. Samantha is fairly certain she knows exactly what's wrong with Harvey.

"I'm… uh…," Harvey is having a hard enough time processing what just happened. Forming an articulate explanation is completely out of his reach.

Feeling a bit empathetic, and somewhat entertained, Samantha decides to play nice for once.

"I'm just heading out. How about I buy you a drink?" she offers.

Harvey barely seems to acknowledge Samantha's presence. He is still replaying the past five minutes in his mind, trying to grasp the gravity of what just occurred.

"Harvey?" Samantha asks again.

"Uh. Sorry. I… uh… can't." Harvey walks by Samatha without a thanks anyway or even a goodbye. He recognizes the early signs of a panic attack, and he has no interest is spectators.

He makes his way into the men's room and braces himself with both hands on the sink.

Thomas Kessler? Thomas...Fucking...Kessler?

He splashes some water on his face and uses the breathing exercises he picked up in therapy.

Lipschitz's therapy, that is. After Stan had helped him mend fences with Louis, Harvey had continued to see him for regular sessions. He eventually opened up about the panic attacks, their cause, and his issues with abandonment. Stan gave him some exercises he thought could help. He hadn't needed them until now.

Harvey is able to slow his heart rate and return to normal breathing after just a few minutes. This is a far better result than puking his guts out, and he will have to thank Stan accordingly.

He makes his way back to his office and notices that he seems to be the only one left at the firm. Alex and Gretchen must have left while he was pulling himself together. He always preferres the office when it is quiet, but tonight he is especially grateful for the solitude.

He pours himself a Macallan. A double, actually, and put on one of his favorite albums of his dad's. It is simply a coincidence that it is the same one he listened to with Donna when he had still been seeing Paula. My, how the tables have turned. He certainly isn't wallowing in self pity, he is just pointing out the irony.

Harvey swallows a mouthful of the liquor trying to erase the image of Thomas's hand on Donna's arm. There was an intimacy there that was obvious. Thomas was clearly comfortable touching her.

The thought makes his stomach lurch.

He pulls out his phone and brings up his message strand with Mike. He scrolls back until he finds the pictures from the wedding Mike had sent him.

There is a great group photo of everyone from the firm. Donna was wrapped around his arm. He remembers it perfectly. They had so much fun that night.

He swipes over to the next picture. It's the two of them dancing. Mike had snapped it when neither one of them was looking. He had sent it to Harvey with the smart ass comment, 'Because Donna is?'

Harvey had shrugged it off at the time as Mike being Mike. But now he looks at the photo through a different lens. He sees the look on his own face. The look in his eyes. It's so obvious.

His chest swells and his eyes start to burn as they fill with unshed tears.

How had it taken him this long? How had he wasted so much time?

He takes a deep pull on the whiskey and relishes in the burn it brings to his throat. Anything to deflect the pain in his heart.

He clicks on the message bubble on the bottom of the screen and texts Mike.

I was ready to tell her. I even tried to. But I was too late.

Seconds later his phone lights up with Mike's name.

Harvey is surprised by the immediate response. He's not sure he's really ready to talk about this yet, but he still answers the call

"Douche-bag," he skips the pleasantries, " I left you a message days ago and you haven't called. Now I send you this and you drop everything?" The alcohol is slightly evident in his speech.

"That message wasn't this message," Mike responds dryly.

Neither speaks for a few beats until Mike breaks the silence.

"Harvey, when you say, ready to tell her—"

"Yes, Mike," he cuts him off.

"And by, too late, you mean the new guy she's seeing?" Mike says it more as a statement, really.

"You knew? Christ! You're all the way across the country and you knew?" Harvey puts his drink down and runs his hand through his hair. This thing with a Thomas must be serious.

"She told Rachel. They spoke on the phone yesterday. Donna just mentioned seeing someone new. I don't think it's been going on that long, Harvey."

Harvey feels the blood starting to pump through his veins. He finishes his drink and walks to the window.

"Yeah. Well, she's slept with him. I can tell you that."

"You don't know—" Mike tries another time to talk him down, but he's cut off again.

"I do know! I can tell." Fuck! It's all so clear now.

"What did you say to her, Harvey? What makes you think it's too late? Did she tell you it's too late?" Mike's voice is full of concern.

"I can't do this right now, Mike. I can't rehash the whole nightmare. I've already done it in my mind a hundred times. Look, thanks for calling. We'll talk later, okay?" Harvey's tone is defeated in a way Mike hasn't heard since he was facing prison.

"Harvey, I really don't think —"

Harvey interrupts him for a third time.

"Goodnight, Mike." He ends the call and sets his phone on his desk. The burning feeling in his eyes causes him to press the heels of his hands against them. He hasn't felt this kind of pain since Donna told him his father had passed.

...

The elevator doors seem to close in slow motion and Donna has the strangest sensation she's being buried alive. It's as though the walls of the elevator are closing in, as the oxygen is slowly being depleted in this small box.

She struggles to take a deep breath.

Thomas is oblivious to what he just interrupted and she can hear him talking but it all sounds garbled, like she's underwater.

"Sound good?" he asks while placing his arm around her, jarring her from her nightmare.

"Sure. Sounds great," Donna replies, having no idea what she just agreed too.

She realizes later when they arrive to dinner that he had been discussing a change in plans. A friend of his had opened a new restaurant-bar with live music and Thomas suggested they go dancing.

The minute they walk in, she regrets agreeing to it. Not that she had done so intentionally.

It's not just any music, it's jazz, and before they are even seated, the whining of the saxophone floods her with memories of Harvey.

As Thomas orders them drinks she lets her mind wander. She thinks of the times she and Harvey had listened to his jazz records together. Miles Davis. Gordon.

She settles on the last time they drank and listened to Harvey's father together. How despite the fact that he was seeing Paula they still… connected. He never should have had that drink with her. Not after what she had done. Not after putting him in that position. But he did. Even when they dated other people, they still longed for each other. Something about their connection couldn't be ignored.

Tonight was no different.

"You okay?" Thomas smiles offering her a drink. "You seem miles away tonight."

"Yes, Thomas." She offers a soft smile. "Just a long day," she adds as she feels her gut twist with guilt.

"You know what you need after a long day?" He smirks taking her hand. "To be entertained by my stellar dancing skills."

He pulls her to her feet and downs his drink in one gulp making Donna gasp and then squeal as he draws her in for a passionate kiss.

As he pulls away and smiles at her, she loses her breath. He really is perfect.

Thomas leads her to the dance floor and begins twirling her around. What he lacks in actual ability, he makes up for in enthusiasm.

She smiles, laughs, dances. They have the best time together and she doesn't think about Harvey once.

For an hour.

After that, it's as though she is playing a drinking game with herself. Every time he crosses her mind, she drinks. Needless to say, two hours into their night, she's toasted.

"Okay, Gorgeous. I think I'd better get you home. I wanted you to loosen up, but you do have work tomorrow." Thomas chuckles.

The entire ride home in the cab she lays her head on Thomas's shoulder and watches the lights outside the window. As she slowly sobers up she thinks about how easy things are with him. There are no mind games, there is no, With you it's different, followed by You know why. Or even worse, You know I love you, Donna and then, It doesn't mean I want more.

She has no idea where things might have led with Harvey tonight if she'd gone with him instead of Thomas, but one thing is for sure. It wouldn't have been easy. Nothing with Harvey ever was.

Thomas is everything a girl could want. So once again she puts her foot down, metaphorically, of course. She belongs with Thomas. He makes her happy and he's not afraid to be happy. It's as simple as that.

Except it's not, a small voice inside her says.

As they pull up to her place Thomas kisses her cheek. "Have a good day at work tomorrow. I'll call you when I'm wrapping up at the office."

At work tomorrow…

For the first time since she left Harvey standing in the lobby, seemingly hurt and in shock, she really thinks about facing him tomorrow and her stomach turns.

After getting ready for bed, she snuggles under her covers and sees she missed a call from Rachel. She sees the icon for a voicemail and when she clicks on it she realizes she actually has two messages.

She clicks on the one from Rachel from about an hour earlier.

"Donna. I just have a second and Mike would literally kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but he talked to Harvey tonight, and well… we need to talk! Call me."

Donna covers her mouth with her hand.

"Oh my God," she says to the empty room. "He told, Mike?"

Suddenly this whole situation feels even more real. Goosebumps spread all over Donna's arms as she lets the gravity of that fact sink in.

She clicks on the second message and is surprised to see it's from Harvey from a couple of nights before. How had she missed it?

"Hey, Donna. I was thinking we could grab a drink to celebrate. I'll leave it up to you if that's interesting enough or not."

"Fuck!" she says aloud.

He had left this message 2 days ago and she never called him back or mentioned it to him? And to add to that, she never told him about seeing Thomas and he found out the way he did tonight? When he was more open and vulnerable than she had ever seen him?

God, he must be so pissed. Or worse, hurt. Donna's eyes well up. What the hell is she going to say to him tomorrow?

She pulls the covers up over her head and lets the tears fall.

...

Harvey starts his day off with an early meeting with Simon Lowe. His headache, thanks to overdoing it with the scotch last night, is amplified when Simon drops a bomb about wanting to partner with Thomas Kessler Furniture. Just the sound of his name forces Harvey to swallow down the bile that rises in his throat.

Harvey isn't just leary of having to work closely with Thomas, or the fact that it presents a conflict, it's the notion that Simon Lowe isn't the most trustworthy of businessmen and Harvey knows it.

After thoroughly questioning Simon on his motives, Harvey goes against his better judgment and agrees to take the offer to Alex.

Donna is waiting for Harvey in his office. She had seen him come in and go straight to Alex, so she figured she will wait for him here.

Her palms are sweaty and her stomach is in knots. She decided earlier that the first thing she would do is apologize for not telling him about Thomas. It seemed the best place to start.

"Hey, Donna," Harvey says to her back as she's looking out the window. His voice is surprisingly cheerful and it completely throws her off.

She can't seem to find the words she so carefully planned as she turns to face him.

"How was your date with Thomas?" he asks with a smile.

"Um… it was…," Donna stumbles over her words. She didn't known what to expect from him, but this, kill her with kindness approach was definitely not it.

"You two make quite the power couple and since Mike and Louis both knew about your relationship, I'm guessing it's been going on for a while." His tone and smile are so well played he could have fooled anyone. Anyone but Donna. She knows precisely what that comment really means.

"Harvey-," she says taking a step toward him.

"And I have good news for your boyfriend," he says pouring it on and rounding his desk to keep her from getting too close. "Simon Lowe has a blockbuster offer for him that will blow his current one clear of the water."

Donna's eyes fill with tears. She can see exactly what he's doing. She can also see the truth in his eyes as moisture builds there and causes them to shine just a bit. She hears what he's saying about an offer from Simon. She remembers Thomas mentioning an exciting expansion deal over dinner last night. But none of that matters. She knows this conversation has nothing to do with business, no matter how it appears.

"Harvey, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just-"

"Donna, I'm happy for you. Really." He smiles again, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You should go call Thomas." He looks down at his computer, signaling to her he's done with this conversation.

Donna slowly walks up to his desk and places her hand beside his computer. She is determined to explain though she has no idea how.

He looks up at her then. Looks directly into her eyes with an intensity that burns straight to her core. He doesn't try to hide the pain this time. It's as though he's just too tired to keep up the charade.

"Please, Donna. Just go." Harvey's voice cracks and so does Donna's heart.