This chapter recalls events of the ninth episode, but, of course, my own imaginary took over. The next one is going to pick up some stuff I've thrown here and there in the past. Trust me, I don't forget anything I write.
Hope you're enjoying the story so far, have a good reading!
G-
Chapter 3: Maybe I'm the sinner and you're the saint
Donna Paulsen could be called a lot of things, but coward wasn't one of them.
She had always prided herself to be confident and bold, never afraid to speak her mind or tell a hard truth. She claimed that the initial shock was better than a long time of latent lies and fake happiness. Because the truth comes out anyway, sooner rather than later.
The fact that she was deflecting from telling Harvey about the baby- their baby was a totally different kettle of fish. At least that's what she told herself to sleep through the night.
Donna was putting everything on hold, being the good assistant that she is, in order to be what people needed her to be. She considered it an act of magnanimity, and she was almost proud of keeping it together so well.
What she couldn't access, though, was that it was slowly killing her.
She, not only swallowed her own problems, but added downright the ones of her coworkers too. Brick by brick, she found herself carrying a load three times heavier, but she still felt too numb to acknowledge it.
Her good nature and kind heart, as well as her uncanny ability of empathy, made her more inclined to identify with people — often at the expense of resulting nosy or even hurt herself. And the latter wasn't such a heroic gesture like she thought, but more of a suicide.
She was brooding it all inside, while that rottenness grew and grew, till it was dribbling all over her life.
She was turning sour, and she couldn't even see it.
Moreover, her behavior could be bounded to her ineptitude of dealing with her own fears.
She had slowly become a master at giving everyone around her impeccable advices about their lives, but she seemed helpless when it came to her own. It was like she could fix the other's problems, but she was oblivious about herself.
She wasn't being phony. Just because a person gives advice doesn't mean that they have to follow that same advice. It's one of the core principles outlined in "The Book of Donna", she told it herself. So she was really being coherent — kind of.
Perhaps, the fact of knowing all too well how the world revolved, with disenchantment, was the reason she became so skeptical.
It all worked to her favor, at the end, until there was no reason to hide anymore.
Mike was getting out, the firm was beginning to see the light of the day, and she fucking needed to tell Harvey his heir was currently busy developing its bones inside her uterus. The fetus's fingers were also starting to ball into fists, the nostrils to open up, the lips to take shape and the eyelids to cover the eyes that were now fully formed — not that she had spent all the night and half of her morning making researches, of course.
And, well, her inner thoughts were making her straighten the folder she previously put on Harvey's desk for about three minutes.
She brushed the blue clipboard with her maroon nails, moving it now a little to the right, now a little to the left.
All of the sudden something shifted, the air around her became rarified. Donna's stomach started to tighten up, as if her body was subconsciously responding to his arrival.
Yeah, their telepathic connection was starting to be slightly disturbing.
"Donna cancel all my meetings tomorrow, and notify the parole board that Gallo's ready." Harvey's baritone broke her out of her trance.
The secretary instinctively tensed up, stilling her movements, as his voice traveled down her spine, raising goosebumps. She felt an irrational feeling of exposure, like her secret was somehow displayed for everyone to see.
It was a day like any other, nothing had changed, unless you directly asked Donna. Yet, she felt changed, and bet anyone could sense it too. Even Harvey. Especially Harvey. The unpleasant assumption he could somehow perceive the stack of cells with his same DNA that she was carrying around was crawling her skin.
She found herself wondering if the strategical dress she had put on that morning was ultimately serving its purpose. Was the white drapery across her stomach hiding the evidence of her pregnancy? Was the cut too low that he would notice her breasts being twice as big as he had last seen them?
She was probably just making up monsters under her bed, when they were actually not even there. Then why her neck felt the weight of a big imaginary flashy sign labeled 'I'm pregnant with your child and I'm lying to you'?
"Harvey-" she said, still not facing him until he rounded his desk and came to stand on the other side of it, in front of her. Her gaze held the glass a little longer.
"I don't want to hear it." He shut her abruptly, as she tried to reconnect the dots and remember why he would do such thing.
Gallo.
Parole hearing.
Oh right, that.
Harvey was probably expecting her to talk him out of the decision of representing that felon. Saving him from himself, like she had always done before. Being the rational part of his mind in this kind of blurry relationship had always been her number one priority, but she was slowly starting to think it would be the only way he'd ever see her.
Donna welcomed the change of subject, though, bracing the turn of the conversation before speaking again.
"Listen to me. I was there with you when you put him away, and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't remind you what you said about him at the time."
She wasn't coming up with it to mask her true thoughts and to divert his attention. She was truly convinced Harvey was getting himself into a dangerous place and she was not willing to let that happen. All the more now that he was about to become a father and would have to respond to another person of his actions.
"I don't need reminding." He tried to stop her impending trail of reasons why what he was about to do was wrong. And he knew it, of course he did. But he didn't have a choice, and he was already barely hanging in there. He couldn't handle Donna being disappointed in him too, because he would seriously consider dropping it all.
Every ounce of determination and blind firmness counted shit when it came to her.
"You said he was a sociopath who took pleasure from hurting people." She finished anyway.
"Donna, I don't have a choice." He pleaded.
She felt his desperation and his hesitation as a pang to her heart. But she wasn't willing to let his integrity go down. More so, now that he would have to set an example to a child.
"That was before you knew that Mike was getting out. If you just string him along for a couple more hours-" she begun to suggest.
"Mike's not getting out today." Harvey confessed, blocking her mid-sentenceZ
"What?" She breathed out, tilting her head to the side.
Now he had her full attention.
"Cahill called me. The deal's gonna take a few more days to go through. And if Gallo even thinks that I'm stringing him along, Mike may never get out of there at all." He briefly explained, and she could read on his face that the news had upset him just as much as her.
She had truly thought this nightmare was over, but apparently bad luck wasn't planning on leaving them just yet.
"I'll clear your schedule." She finally gave up.
Donna pried her lips open as a yawn forced its way out without her notice. As soon as she minded her strenuous grimace, she tried to stifle it as indiscreetly as possible, shielding her mouth with the back of hand.
She glanced at her left, taking Harvey in, glad that he seemed apparently unfazed by the proof of her boredom, that was really just exhaustion. He had been so buried under the gigantic pile of work he had to take care of, that he hadn't noticed the small changes in her attitude.
Like the fact that she wore out way earlier than she used to, or that she recoiled every time she smelled a tuna sandwich. As far as she could tell, though, her pregnancy had been an easy one. No sudden nausea, or severe pains; Nothing too major in general, just a little more tiredness stringing her along and occasional dull aches.
Harvey was busy shouting something on the phone to someone. Judging by how mad he was, it must have been either Sean Cahill or Cameron Dennis. Hard to tell, since she had shut down the intercom. It had definitely been a first — quite literally, considering that she encountered some difficulties turning it off. The device had always loyally served its purpose, being kind of her longa manus, or her fly on the wall, but she was growing to find it disturbing. The continued buzz was making her develop a headache, and she couldn't afford to be bothered by that.
Since nothing seemed to demand her attention at the moment, she opted for leaving her cubicle and found herself wandering into the office's kitchen to fetch some coffee.
Vigorously shaking the sugar's packet — because it's never too sweet — Donna opened it and let the white sweet snow bury the caffeine. Apparently, the notion she couldn't have it didn't exactly register in her brain just yet. The redhead stirred it a few times, before she sensed a presence in the room.
"Oh, sweet baby Jesus." Gretchen lashed out approaching the pot and getting a well deserved refill as well. "I swear that if I had a dollar for every time that man has complained today, I'd be rich enough to not have to work for him."
Donna chuckled softly, turning her head slightly to the right to the woman at her side, both facing the counter.
"Louis?" The redhead rhetorically asked.
The secretary nodded, "what do you think?"
"Well," Donna shrugged, raising the blue patterned mug to her lips, "cut him some slack. He has been dealing with Tara and the firm, and you know how he is." She came to her friend's defense, even if she knew well how maddening it could be to deal with Louis. She had been his secretary and his go-to long enough to step into Gretchen's shoes.
"If that makes you feel any better, Harvey hasn't been a piece of cake either." She added, sipping her beverage.
"We really should be payed more." Gretchen snickered, looking pointedly over the edge of her fresh Keurig brew.
So close to her nostrils, the sharp smell instantly hit, making Donna wince. She turned around and leaned against the marble. She had always loathed that pre-made, low-priced mocha, but this time the scent of it alone left her beyond shaken.
Swallowing a mouthful of her own caffeine in hopes to erase the memory of that shitty product Gretchen seemed to like so much, Donna noticed her stomach dropping the second the hot liquid kicked in.
She tried unsuccessfully another time, when, all of the sudden, the bitter taste suggested her what her mind had properly tucked out. In that exact second, she realized she shouldn't be drinking coffee at all.
The moment that information reached her brain, it sent a shock wave through her body and she reacted promptly spitting the coffee from her mouth, right to the cup of provenance.
"Ew," Gretchen recoiled at the sight, "What the hell is wrong with you, Red?" She asked, diverting her gaze to the ground.
"Nothing." She exclaimed, a little too quickly and voice a little too high-pitched. Every single thing about her attitude screamed guilty, and the familiar sensation of that piece of information she was so keen of keeping for herself painted across her forehead in scarlet letters returned full force.
"What you mean nothing? Your mom didn't teach you how to drink?"
Baby brain must totally be a thing, Donna thought. Because she couldn't think of one, one simple excuse to back up her behavior.
Suddenly, the room felt a hundred degrees. Heat flushed her usually rather pale cheeks.
"Hot. It was just hot. The coffee-" she stammered. "The coffee was just too hot."
"Don't bullshit a bullshitter." The older woman warned — eyes boring Donna like she could see right through her. "Come clean or I'll figure it out myself in three seconds."
She was backed into a corner, and for the first time in forever any witty repartee died on her tongue. Her poker face long lost and her bluffing skills were nowhere to be found.
Donna could sense panic flushing her skin, arousing a sense of helplessness that made her feel like she was back at age eleven. A little girl under the scrutinizing gaze of an authoritarian figure, with no experience whatsoever.
And then... she started to cry.
She felt it coming miles away: her bottom lip quivered, her eyes started to burn and her nose crunched a couple of times.
The moisture floated down her cheeks before she could even blink, and a deep sense of sadness and loneliness pressed down her chest, zeroing every chance of keeping it together.
Gretchen was left gobsmacked.
She had never seen Donna reeling, let alone crying.
"Oh, come on." She tenderly tried to soothe her. "I didn't mean to be so rude. Never thought I'd make you cry." Gretchen slid her hands up and down Donna's forearms, with that discernible motherly warmth that made her wonder how the hell was she supposed to become a mother in a few months, when she actually craved her own by her side right now.
She didn't mind the embarrassment of crying on Gretchen's shoulder too much though, the tantrum still too livid.
"I- sorry... I just-" she gasped for air, a mess of sobs and chocked words that maybe didn't want to get out. "can't-"
"Hey, it's ok." Gretchen almost cooed, helping Donna on one of the kitchen's chairs and letting her vent out for a few seconds.
Once she had probably no tears left to cry, she tried to somehow recompose, weeping the hot salty droplets from her eyes.
"Mind to tell me what that was all about?"
The question came from genuine concern, Donna could tell. The tone did not match the previous playful and inquisitive one, and she found herself almost wishing she could talk her problems through with the Gretchen.
Since the moment the middle aged woman arrived to the firm, she had caught Donna's interest. She may have been averse of letting her on her system at first, cause she chaired the position of Harvey's secretary, one that had been always been hers and that everyone unspokenly thought will forever be. Accepting her, would have meant letting Harvey move on, and Donna wasn't ready to do that at the time.
And who enlightened her about this had actually been Gretchen in the flesh.
She was loyal, hardworking, caring and intuitive. Donna probably liked her that much because they had so much in common.
The secretary had been the one to put her in her place and call her out of her bullshit, reminding her that maybe she could've actually known better since she had more experience.
And with the jab about the 'duck á la shit' and 'I've been doing shit like this since you were an itch in your daddy's pants', she knew she had met her match.
"Yes," Donna bobbed her head up and down, "but can you take that monstrosity away first?" She asked hoarsely, nodding in the direction of the unfinished cup of coffee.
Gretchen proceeded to do as she instructed, when a thought occurred and everything suddenly made sense, "how far along?" She inquired, a knowing smile dancing on her lips.
Donna felt her heart skip a beat, "I- what?"
"Okay, if you intend on playing the fool, let me tell you your eyes look like Frisbees."
She blinked a couple of times.
"And you might want to close your mouth before a fly walks in."
She sealed her lips together annoyingly.
Gretchen waited for her to spill the beans, "basically four months." Donna murmured, looking with newfound interest at the floor. "How did you figure that out?"
"Please. It's not my first rodeo." Gretchen took a seat next to her, chuckling soundly, "But what I can't figure out is why are you so upset."
She knew she might be overstepping there, but she dared to keep going anyway, "was this not..." she tried to find the best way to put it nicely, "what you were looking for?"
"You don't have to sugarcoat it," Donna sniffled, "this just couldn't have come at a worst moment."
"Because of..."
"The firm, to begin with." Donna sighed.
"Oh please, if you tell me that you're worrying about the fact that this floor has basically become a jungle gym-"
"It's not only that." She quickly dismissed.
Gretchen tried to read her for a few seconds. There was no denying that the feisty redhead she once knew was going through something big. She felt almost protective over her now battered and distressed persona — remembering how difficult it could be to cope with all the changes, both mental and physical, that pregnancy brought and how glad she was she had her husband to help her.
She doubted Donna had a significant someone, seeming more bewildered, hazy and lonely than she'd ever been.
A thought she couldn't seem to shake was begging to be set free. Even if she was aware she could be wrong and subsequently seriously inappropriate, the woman still chose to take a wild guess and risk being sent to hell.
"Well yeah, keeping up with a little Specter growing inside of you must be one hell of a game." Gretchen quietly spoke up.
"How the hell-" Donna was dumbfounded.
Bingo, Gretchen silently blessed her gut.
"Seriously? I have eyes, you know." She arched a striking brow. "I have had my suspicions since the day I came to work here. But the way you throw each other these suggestive glances, how you interact these days..." she trailed off.
She'd been captured by this sort of ballet, this dance between what's allowed and what's not. Both Harvey and Donna probably had no idea of how much they left to shine through — ambiguous exchanges that made people wonder, but that the couple didn't seem mind too much, refusing to see them for what they truly were.
"It's not like that. We..." Donna paused. How could she put into words the blurred and complicated relationship she had with the man she sometimes forgot was her boss? Could she explain it to her friend when even she had trouble understanding it? "aren't- it's not that simple."
"Honey, if you think Harvey's going to be a problem, you are blinder than I thought."
Donna frowned, conveying through her puzzled face that she wasn't grabbing the meaning of the statement.
"It's clear to me that there's something here. And even if there wasn't, that man is a lot of things, but not unfair. You have always been there for him, and you'll see that he'll want to do right by you."
Donna shook her head, "it's not that. I'm not worried that he'll bail out on us, but I'm sadly aware that we can't be his priority."
Another lonely tear marked her cheek at the bitterness of her statement, but she was quick to catch it.
"I don't want to throw him off his game, now that he has more important things to do. But I'm drowning." Gretchen's heart sank at her words, and she put a hand on Donna's exposed knee to offer her some kind of human comfort. "I'm scared and alone and with no clue of what to do. I keep waiting and waiting for the right moment, but no one seems to be. And I'll probably give birth and raise his kid all by myself, and maybe, just maybe, when he's retired-"
"Ok, I'mma stop you right there." Gretchen couldn't take it anymore. "I think you have no idea how much of his life is wrapped around you and how much he cares about you. You are and will always be his number one priority, and I'll be damned if the baby you've made together isn't going to be as well."
Donna silently nodded in understatement, realizing that maybe Gretchen was right.
"But one thing is for sure," she spoke again, "you'll never find out if you don't tell him."
Rachel got out of the black Lexus pulled over in the middle of Danbury federal prison's parking lot. She gently pushed a strand of dark hair out of her face so that her eyes could find Mike's.
The tension between the couple was palpable and Harvey felt kind of awkward to be the third wheel in such a profound and touching moment between the two lovers. But they were so absorbed by the fact they were finally able to hug each other without worrying about Mike's inevitable return inside the fortress wrapped by a barbwire and with bars on the windows, that the closer didn't see any point in minding too much.
Harvey Specter wasn't a romantic.
Never been the type of guy to bring girlfriends roses and chocolates for Valentine's Day, to write a poem about his feelings — god knows it was hard for him to even acknowledge them — or to lit candles over dinner.
He had always found it all quite contrived and cloying, altering the spontaneity and good nature of the action itself. Love didn't have to be shown off like that to be real.
On that note, he still had to admit that watching Mike and Rachel's reunion affected him more than it probably should.
The young man's release had gotten a little over Harvey's control, considering that most of the latest points of the plan had been orchestrated behind his back. It was probably because Mike was aware that if he'd known, the lawyer wouldn't have probably given the green light — but the ex-fraud had been able to get himself out of prison and keep Frank Gallo in there as well.
It had been a ridiculously risky strategy, that had put his life in danger, one more reason to be bothered by the the unilateral decision that Mike had taken. But thinking about it, the kid managed to pull it off and spared him a choice that would have brought him to perjury and throw everything he believed in in the trash. That alone deserved a reward.
So when Rachel had told Harvey she didn't have the patience to wait home, he had decided to surprise his friend and bring her along to pick him up. Small conversation was made between the two people and the driver, but there was mostly comfortable silence filled with excitement for Mike's release.
And now, seeing him taking those hopeful and prideful steps towards his life's partner and taking her into his arms, yeah, it was moving something inside of him.
He had always admired what Mike and Rachel shared; it was the kind of love everyone aimed to, based on trust and dedication. A bond that's hard to come by and, if you do, you have to do everything in your power to keep it close.
His mind inevitably went to Donna.
She was the place he never wanted to go to, but he ended up there regardless of his will. He was eventually drawn to her, no matter what.
How he wished that he could have her next to him right now, to hoist her up and kiss her the way Mike did with Rachel. Freely.
Such an open acknowledgment of how he felt about her for her should be have him running away in the exact opposite direction.
Perhaps this time it was different.
He didn't feel ashamed of his feelings. He didn't feel the need to hide them in the deep storage of his brain where he compressed every double entendre. He didn't feel like he had to pretend he never had them.
Because, for the first time, Harvey didn't feel like those feelings made him weak, like they could kill him.
They were there, they had always been there, and he was sick of not acting on them.
Suddenly, it didn't feel scary anymore.
Donna had told him to focus on Mike and then themselves. However, Mike was finally out, and Harvey wondered if it ever occurred to Donna that one more obstacle had been crossed.
He just wished this time she'd let him stay.
He was finally ready.
Harvey might be ready, but I'm cruel, so I'm going to tell you that some old faces will be seen again.
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