Donna pushes open the front door and steps into the hallway. She takes a few slow steps, tentatively listening for any sounds that might give away what Harvey is up to. Soft jazzy tones reach her, but she can't make out what record he is playing. She hangs her coat and then slowly walks further inside. When she gets closer to the living room, she recognizes the music playing. It's that one song of Harvey's dad. A record that he doesn't play much, with deep and low tones that he usually deems too melancholic. But right now she knows exactly why he is playing it.
The soft clicking of Donna's heels on the hardwood floor signals her entrance, and she knows Harvey must hear it, but she doesn't call out for him. The atmosphere feels heavy and she wants to see him before saying anything. When she can look into his eyes she'll be able to read him and then she can say the right things.
Through the open floorplan, Donna can see Harvey in the kitchen, standing over the stove with his back turned towards her. She approaches him, but he doesn't turn around. She observes him, noticing he still hasn't changed out of his suit. His jacket is off, but his shirt is still on and even his tie is still around his neck. Through the fabric, she can see the tense muscles in his back and shoulders.
The way Harvey rigidly stands with his back towards Donna – even though he must have heard her come in, makes her hesitate a little. She sets her purse down on the kitchen island, standing still for a second. Then she moves closer to Harvey, standing by his side and carefully placing her hand on his shoulder. He sucks in a breath and clenches his jaw.
Donna slowly lets her hand run from Harveys shoulder down his back and up again. "Hey," she softly says, trying to get his attention. He doesn't look at her, he just swallows heavily and bows his head, which tells her enough. "It's okay, Harvey," she stands a little closer to him, needing him to know she's with him, "you can grieve… just let it out, okay?" She has been wanting to say the words to him all day, but he hadn't given her the chance, he had been avoiding her since they woke up.
For weeks now, Donna had known that this day was coming. Of course she knew, because she's Donna. But even more so because while this day hits him hard every year, it affects her too. She had been the one to tell him all those years ago. It was the hardest thing she ever had to do; telling Harvey that his dad – the man he adored – was gone. She had liked Gordon too, although having only spoken to him over the phone. But the tears in her eyes when she had to tell him weren't for her, they were for him. At first she couldn't find the words, which was so unlike her. Maybe she hadn't wanted to, because even though she was only the messenger, she was the one pulling the rug out from underneath him. And then she couldn't even comfort him. She hadn't known what to do. She desperately wanted to hug him, but he tried to swallow the loss as stoically as he could and she was afraid a hug might unravel that strong front he clearly wanted to keep up.
Every single year, Harvey took one day off. Donna forced him to the first year, and every year after that it was a silent agreement that she would clear his calendar that day. She knew he drove up to Boston and went to his fathers grave. And this year, she knew that wouldn't be possible, the distance from Seattle to Boston simply too big.
Weeks ago, Donna had broached the subject. She had asked him if he wanted to take the day off, perhaps even a few days. Catch a flight to Boston, visit the grave, maybe see Marcus. Carefully, she had added that she would go with him if he wanted to, but she also understood if he wanted to go alone. To her surprise, he had just shaken his head and told her he didn't want to go at all. She tried to get him to tell her why, but couldn't get much further than a curt "it's been years." After that, she had brought it up a few times more, but every time he shut her down, and eventually she relinquished. It became clear to her that this was one of the things she shouldn't push him on.
This morning, Donna had woken up alone. A note in Harvey's signature scribble rested on his pillow and told her he went for an early session at the gym before his first meeting today. Right then, an uneasy feeling had settled over her, the dark clouds outside only adding to it. For a few moments, she sat in bed. Maybe it was good that he went to the gym, getting most of the heavy emotion out of his system instead of letting it weigh him down. But it felt wrong not to see him, not to be able to talk to him. So she called him, and when she got his voicemail she left a short message, "hey… I just woke up and saw your note. Just… I… Harvey, please know that I am with you if you need me. I love you." It was a little stuttered and unsure, but she hoped the sentiment of support got through.
Donna had hoped to see Harvey in between him going to the gym and getting to his first meeting, but he was late and he just hurried past, sending her a tight smile. His meeting ran longer than expected and by the time got out, Donna had an interview with a potential new associate. After that, she walked by his office, but he was not there and when she came across Mike in the hallway, he was able to tell her that Harvey was out to meet a new client and it might take a while.
At the end of the day, Donna hasn't had a chance to speak to Harvey at all. At some point in the late afternoon, she started wondering whether he was deliberately avoiding her. That realization stung quite badly. And she knew it's not about her, that this day is emotionally heavy for him and that he has every right to cope whichever way he wants to. But after having to watch him struggle from afar for so long, she had hoped to be able to be there for him this time.
I've finished for the day. See you at home. X. Disappointment rushed through Donna when she got out of her last meeting of the day and saw Harvey's text. She expelled a long breath and closed her eyes for a second. It had been a long day and she longed for Harvey, but after his distance today she was a little unsure of how to approach him when she would get home.
But now Donna is standing right next to her husband, and even though he has pulled up every wall and barrier he possibly can, she knows exactly what to do. Because she knows him. And she knows that his clenched jaw and the death grip he has on his spatula hide the fact that he's trembling. Because she just told him that he's allowed to grieve and that's the one thing that he has been trying to avoid all day long. He's still trying so hard, but she's not going to let him. He needs to feel, no matter how painful it is.
"Harvey…" Donna's voice is soft, but firm. She closes the last bit of distance between them, wrapping both of her arms around his right arm and resting her chin on his shoulder, "don't bottle it up… Please allow yourself to feel," she whispers, "it's okay… You're safe. You're home."
A shuddering breath escapes Harvey's mouth and suddenly he crumbles. His hands shake – no, his whole body shakes, his bottom lip wobbles and tears fill up his eyes. He tries to hold everything back. He swallows a few times. It's been years, it should not still be affecting him as much. But Donna rubs his back and she's offering him a safe space to fall apart and he can't help but accept it. Because her words hit him. She is home and she is all the security he needs to allow himself to feel.
Harvey turns to Donna, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck. She's still wearing her heels, which makes her almost as tall as he is. But even then, he is still larger than she is, his body wraps around hers. But it offers him comfort nonetheless. They fit together perfectly and he allows himself to lean into her.
Donna's arms are wrapped tightly around Harvey, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. She pulls him closer into her, until their bodies are pressed against each other. He trembles against her and his chest expands with heavy breaths. Hot tears trickle down his face, onto her neck. Tears form in her own eyes as well. She hates seeing him in pain, but she's glad he is no longer burying his hurt.
"Donna?" Harvey pulls away a little. Just enough so he can look at her. His voice breaks when he speaks, "I want to go to Boston… Soon." He doesn't know why he refused her offer weeks ago, can't fathom why he would not want to go. She lets her hands slide from his shoulders to his face. Her thumbs stroke over his cheeks, wiping at his tears, "I booked tickets," she tells him, a feeble smile on her face, "for tomorrow morning."
Slightly unsure, Donna watches Harvey's face. He swallows, and then buries himself into her again. "Thank you," he whispers, his breath warm against her skin. She wraps her arms back around him, holding him close. They stand like that for a long time, until Harvey's tears have dried and his breathing is slow and steady. He still hates today, and it still hurts so much. But she is with him and that is everything he needs right now.
