The next morning, when Harvey wakes up, Donna is not curled against him anymore. And when he stretches his arm over to her side of the bed, the sheets feel cold. It's only 8am, but he supposes she must have woken early and left the bed. He hesitates, secretly dreading the conversation they postponed last night. He still isn't sure whether he is ready to hear what she has to say. Her fear of breaking them has made him a little more afraid than he was. However, he decides then, they won't be broken if they fight for their relationship. And he is willing to fight, because no matter what happened, no matter that she kept this from him for so long, she is the most important person in his life.

When Harvey wanders into the living room, searching for Donna, he doesn't spot her immediately. But when he looks a little further, he sees her through the big windows. She is standing on the balcony, leaning on the railing and looking out over the city. He walks over to the door, and then waits a little, looking at her through the glass. She is wearing a black sweatshirt, one of his, judging by the way it dwarfs her. Her hair is up in a bun, but at the back strands already fell out of it, softly sweeping over her neck, blown by the breeze.

Donna has been standing outside for a while now. She woke up early, luckily without the pounding in her head, but with a restless energy spreading through her body. So she got out of bed and after brewing a cup of coffee, she headed out onto the balcony. Hoping the chilly breeze could help clear her head. She hears the door opening, but Harvey doesn't say anything. Neither does she. Still unsure of where they stand, she keeps her gaze on the clouds rolling over the city. Rain is coming. Harvey comes up beside her and leans on the railing to. He stands close, but just far enough so their arms don't touch. He glances at her, not saynig anything. And neither does she. Donna swallows, and looks down at her cup of coffee. She extends it to him, a gesture as well as a way to gauge his reaction. He takes the mug from her and takes a sip, then slides it over the railing, back to her.

Silently, Harvey and Donna pass the coffee back and forth. The tension around them is still almost palpable, but there is a certain kind of peacefulness in standing out here together and sharing their signature vanilla coffee. However, they both know they can't avoid the conversation forever. After taking the last sip, Donna lets out a long breath. "Almost eighteen years ago, I met someone," she starts, hearing the tremble in her own voice, "we dated for quite some time. About a year, I think," she inhales slowly, "and then I found out he was cheating on me, so I left him."

Harvey inhales sharply at the mention of cheating, and subconsciously shifts on his feet so he stands a little closer to Donna, their shoulders now almost touching. She still looks straight ahead, her gaze fixed on the clouds. "And then, a few weeks later, I found out I was pregnant," now she squeezes her eyes shut, "I contacted Jack, but he was still mad I left him. Hurt his ego or something," she laughs a humorless laugh, "said he didn't want anything to do with me or the baby." She opens her eyes again, the memories still so easily visible despite the years that have passed.

"I was so lost…" Donna admits, her voice quivering, "I had been living in New York for years, but I went back to my parents. Didn't know where else to go," she swallows against the lump in her throat, "I was still in time… I still could… I-I…" She stumbles, then takes a breath to recompose herself, "I could have gone for an abortion. But I was so… confused. I didn't know what to do. What I wanted…" Her hands squeeze around the mug still in her hands, trying to focus her energy on something other than the painful memories, "and the more time passed, the less sure I got. Eventually I realized I couldn't do it... Not on my own. I wasn't ready… I-I… I just couldn't."

Harvey sees Donna's chin wobble, and her left eye twitch. The telltale signs that she's close to crying. He shifts on his feet again, closing the last bit of distance between them. Tentatively, he reaches for one of her hands, prying it off the cup and closing his own around it, giving it a soft squeeze. She might have been alone all those years ago, but she isn't now. She softly squeezes back before taking a deep breath, "by that time, I was almost six months along. And the only thing I could do was give her up for adoption. My mom helped me, and we found a couple that desperately wanted a child, but couldn't. The Graysons," she clarifies, although Harvey had gotten that far on his own.

"I gave her up," Donna continues, her eyes starting to water, "and we agreed that we wouldn't keep in contact… I couldn't face it. It was too… painful," tears drip down her cheeks, "I told myself that I wouldn't want to disrupt her life. But really… It was to protect myself. I was afraid." She looks down now, using her free hand to wipe at her tears, "afraid that she would be a constant reminder of how hurt and lost and alone I was. And I couldn't face that. I just wanted to move on…" She pauses, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from dissolving into sobs.

Quietly, Harvey squeezes Donna's hand again. He doesn't say a word, giving her space to recompose herself. After a few minutes, she lifts her head, looking at the dark clouds again. "I moved back to New York," she softly continues, her voice still shaky, "and I threw myself into acting. I was always good, and I loved it. But then it became a way to escape. To be someone that wasn't me," she shrugs a little, "it worked for a while… Until it didn't anymore." She firms her jaw as memories flood her head. On stage she was fine, but there were too many lonely nights. Too many empty hours where she was confronted with everything that had happened and her brain went on wild runs imaging what could have been had she not given her daughter up.

"Hey," Harvey softly says. It's the first word he has spoken all morning, but he saw Donna's eyes darken and she seemed to be withdrawing into herself. She meets his eyes for a fleeting second and squeezes his hand, "I couldn't keep pretending," she says, "I couldn't pretend to be someone else. I had to be someone else. So I quit acting and I started working as a secretary." Her teeth sink into her bottom lip as she thinks back, "I heard about you. About a ruthless and cocky young lawyer who fought tooth and nail for every case he got. I looked into you, listened more closely to the stories going around. And I was intrigued. I felt like you could offer me more than other lawyers could. So I came to you in that bar."

Harvey turns his body a little, looking at Donna. "But you never told me," he says, sounding more accusingly than he intended to. She nods, then blows out a breath, "I didn't…" She admits, "it's not something I've ever told anyone. And at first there was no need. I was your secretary, you were my boss. And then the lines blurred," she sighs, her mind going back to all the times she thought about telling Harvey, "I used to be there for you. But suddenly we got more and more even. But then I couldn't… I knew how you felt about people keeping things from you," tears burn behind her eyes again, "I was so scared of losing you… I couldn't face that."

Tears stream down Donna's face again, and that's the only reason Harvey doesn't jump at her words. Because he feels a little anger bubbling in his chest again. Despite the story she just told him, the pain clear in her voice and body language, he can't help but being angry that she kept this from him. She sniffles and softly squeezes his hand and then takes a deep breath, "I made a mistake, Harvey. I should have told you, I know that. And I can't… I'm not…" She stumbles, "I don't know why I didn't. it's just… I think I was afraid. And it's stupid and I get that you're mad," she is rambling now, words just pouring from her mouth, "it has been a part of my history that I've tried to block out for myself. Because it hurts. It still hurts. And I don't know how to deal with that except to push it down."

Donna's chest heaves with silent sobs, "I should have told you," she repeats, "but I didn't know how. It's not that I don't trust you. I trust you with my life, but-but-but…" She can't continue, tears choking her. And then Harvey feels his anger eb away. He draws her into his chest and holds her tight. "You were trying to protect yourself," he murmurs, trying to make sense of it for himself. She nods against his shoulder, "but I should have told you. And I'm so sorry… So, so, sorry about that." She still can't really rationalize why she didn't tell him. She knows she should have, but something in her head always blocked when she thought about telling him.

"Are you angry?" Donna asks, after a long silence. They are still wrapped around each other, but now she feels him pulling away. She longs to hold on to him, but knows she needs to let him take a step back. To her relief, he keeps his hands on her waist and his eyes are soft. "More… hurt," he admits, "that you never told me. But… I do get it now. A little." He sighs, and pulls one hand back to rub over his forehead, "I just need a little time to make sense of it all… of you keeping something huge like this from me." His hand falls back to her waist, "but thank you… for telling me now."

Slowly, Donna lifts her hands. She lays her palms against Harvey's cheeks, thumbs softly stroking over his stubble. The uncertainty and deep, horrible fear of losing him are still not gone. Her eyes meet his, "will we be okay?" She softly asks. He looks at her, taking her in. The too large sweatshirt, the messy bun on her head from which more strands have gone loose, softly blowing in the wind. The tearstains on her cheeks, hair stuck in them. Bloodshot eyes. A worried, scared look on her face. Then he nods, "I love you," he tells her, sensing she needs to hear him say it. He leans forward, and kisses her, softly and gently, just to emphasize his words.

Harvey keeps Donna close, even after he breaks the kiss. "I missed you," he whispers. It has only been a few days of fighting, but he hated every second of it. She nods, her bottom lip quivering again. "No more fighting?" She asks, uncertainty still in her voice. "No," his hands slip under her shirt, coming to rest on her hips, "no more fighting," his thumbs stroke over her bare skin, "but maybe more talking." She immediately nods, "whatever you need." She tells him earnestly. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. "Right now," he pulls back to look at her, "I just need you to come back to bed with me. Because it's still too early on a Saturday morning to be up."

Soooo, finally they talked! This was originally going to be the last chapter of the story, but I want to write another little chapter about Donna meeting her daughter, so that's coming up soon :)

x

PS: happy new year!