Prompt by That we were(Emneedsmore): After the DAs office, Donna didn't follow Harvey to PH and attempted a relationship but eventually broke up as he wasn't ready. They meet again years later at a Christmas party.
.
I'll be home for Christmas
.
With some tucking and folding, the silk tie finally sat the way Harvey liked, and he buttoned up his vest as high heels clacking on the hardwood floor drew his gaze around. Legs up to the sky approached, covered by a glittery, gold-colored dress that showed an abundance of cleavage hidden under soft waves of walnut that flowed down her shoulders.
The outfit bordered on obscene, but Amanda Maranzano pulled it off, looking ravishing.
"Wow. You look hot," he declared, slipping his palms onto her hips.
"Thank you. You look hot, too," Amanda drawled, leaving a hungry kiss on her boyfriend's lips before lifting her faux-fur coat off the bed.
As she sashayed ahead of him into the living room, Harvey's gaze dropped to her well-rounded behind, and he playfully slapped her ass.
Courtship came easily to Harvey, having perfected the craft to an art-form. He knew exactly what to say to make any woman feel seen. He knew when to text, when to call, and when to call it quits. Because inevitably, every one of them would develop feelings, and expectations would arise; expectations he had no ambition to meet.
Just because he was attentive, didn't mean he wanted to settle down. Only one woman had ever gotten close to changing his mind, but that was over a decade ago, and he had successfully pushed her away. Deep down, however, he craved to have someone in his life to plan a future with. Unfortunately, he was sure that person wasn't Amanda.
Having passed the one-month mark two weeks ago, Harvey was ready to move on. Sure, the perky brunette looked great on his arm and the sex was decent enough, but she had the emotional depth of a shoehorn. However, much to his therapist's enjoyment and his own surprise, she'd said she was in love with him, and hearing those words had felt pretty goddamn good after the year he'd had.
So, Harvey had decided to give the 'relationship' a real try. Especially with Christmas only a week away; bringing with it the dreaded image of lonely nights on his couch slaving over a case Jessica had forbidden him to take home while the rest of the world gathered for lavish dinners with loved ones.
His romantic effort had lasted for about three days. Because one night, during dinner, Amanda had wondered out loud why anybody would become a vegetarian, stating that, "our forefathers hunted dinosaurs. Clearly, humans were designed to eat meat." He'd lost his appetite—for his food and for her. On top of that, the topic of babies had arisen more often than he cared for. No. He was done wasting his time. Next week, he'd end things.
But tonight, there was a party to attend, and he didn't feel inclined to go prowling for another date on such short notice. Truth be told, he hated himself for using her. Perhaps, after the holidays, he could take her shopping before he dumped her and ensure she got whatever she wanted. As long as it wasn't him.
"Richard? Are you ready? We really should get going." Donna looked at the front door, wondering if they would ever make it outside, let alone to the actual party.
She'd been waiting a good ten minutes already and her patience was running out. Being late had her skin itching, especially since this was the first formal occasion she was attending as soon-to-be-named COO of Skadden. Sure, she liked to make an entrance, but even 'fashionably late' had its limits.
Nervously, she chewed her lip and felt a restlessness ripple through her veins. The unease was the result of her boyfriend's tardiness, she reminded herself, not because of who else might be present at the shindig.
A moment later, Richard's muffled voice came from the living room. "I just need to finish this statement. I'll be right there."
Donna sighed as she stood in the hallway, looking at the fir garland running along the staircase. Richard Adams was a real Christmasphile, pulling out the decorations the Sunday following Thanksgiving while humming 'Winter Wonderland' non-stop. After only three months together, they were still getting to know each other, and so far, he had pleasantly surprised her, but he was quickly losing credits.
For years, she'd shied away from dating lawyers—especially after the first and only time she had attempted such a feat—and now was again reminded why. The work never stopped. For the newest senior partner at Skadden, it was even worse. Richard still felt the rightful need to prove himself, and that meant many nights and weekends being up to his ass in paperwork. But tonight they had a Christmas party to go to.
"Come on. The car is waiting."
A large huff came from the other room, followed by the sound of a laptop closing and feet shuffling towards the hall.
When his gaze landed on her, he froze for a moment, examining the dazzling emerald outfit that colored her eyes a deeper shade of green.
He dipped down and planted a kiss on her cheek. "You look fantastic, Don," he said, then added, "I can't wait to get you home."
As his cologne tingled her senses, all her annoyance went out the window—including the part she still felt whenever he used that insipid nickname. Was it even a nickname when it was really an abbreviation? Rather than endearing, it just seemed lazy. Like the extra syllable was too much effort.
"Come on, smooth talker. You can chat me up later." She smiled and pushed him out the door.
The Miller Lowe Annual Christmas party was an A-list event held in the grand ballroom of The Plaza Hotel. The large open space was decorated like Martha Stewart had had sex with Santa Claus himself. Decorations, outlandish yet stylish, were visible from every angle. However, the primary focus was the massive tree at the south end of the room, decked out with the color of this year's theme: cobalt blue.
Never having been invited to the MLACP herself, Donna had always listened to the mouth-watering stories of celebrities making an appearance; Bono had shown up last year and Jane Fonda the year before. And now she finally had her merits for attending—instead of being someone's plus-one.
Tall tables dressed with maroon cloths were scattered around a bar in the center of the room. The three-sixty service area was at least fifty feet long, and servers in tuxes bounced back and forth between the guests and the bar, like black-and-white ping pong balls.
Standing at one of the tables with Richard and a set of lawyers she hadn't met before, Donna rolled her shoulders and stretched her spine an imperceptible inch, enough to release the tension that had woven itself through her muscles the second she'd stepped foot over the threshold. Although there was no reason to be nervous, she told herself, her gaze still traveled towards the entrance every five seconds.
And then she spotted him, walking in like he owned the place.
Harvey Specter. Former boss, former friend, former lover. Former love.
Instantly her insides cheered. The jerk.
For something that had lasted only months and ended eleven years ago, he sure as hell had done a number on her, judging by her racing heart and fluttering stomach.
However, the internal cheerleader routine came to a crashing halt when the crowd between them dispersed and Donna caught sight of the floozy bouncing on his arm; reminding her she'd made the right call in avoiding these parties—and mostly him—all these years.
Besides, enough time had passed for her to have moved on, and she was certain he had, too. They may not have parted as friends, but she didn't hold a grudge. Not anymore. She was perfectly capable of delivering a 'hello' and carrying on a conversation until they each went their separate ways and tonight would be nothing but another memory.
Around the edges of her consciousness, she registered the words 'see you later,' and 'have a nice evening', and she forced her focus on Richard saying goodbye to people she had been introduced to a minute ago but whose names she couldn't recall if her life depended on it.
"I'm going to the restroom. I'll be right back," he said, giving her waist a squeeze.
As her boyfriend took off, Donna debated whether to wait for him. But as she stared at Harvey's back while he settled himself four tables over, her eager feet moved before she could control their direction, as if he were the moon and they were the tides, defenseless against his gravitational pull.
Nearing her destination, she appreciated having the element of surprise, like she held the upper hand. But his face was hidden from view, so she had no way of reading him, and a surge of jitters washed through her nervous system. Luckily, there was no time for worrying about his reaction, because next thing she knew, she stood an arm's length away and took a final steadying breath.
"Well, look at what the cat dragged in."
Harvey swiveled around at the sound of her voice, his expression one of sheer astonishment. Or was that shock?
"Donna!" he exclaimed, but quickly tempered his excitement. Unfortunately, his subconscious had other plans because he reached forward to kiss her hello, catching her off guard, which resulted in an awkward clash of limbs and cheeks and a not-fully-there hug before they broke apart clumsily.
"It's good to see you," they said simultaneously.
For a moment, the room and the people in it vanished beyond him as their gazes merged and his soft smile spread, mirroring her own. But the outward display did not match her inner chaos because her heart raced from the wild whiplash of genuine joy and rooted resentment that was beating against it.
She'd meant to keep her cool and act indifferently, but seeing the elation swim in his eyes had shoved that idea aside; her own thrill of having him within reach suddenly all-encompassing.
"Hi, I'm Amanda," a voice said.
Abruptly, a dark cloak of reality settled on Donna's excitement as she turned her attention to the brunette who extended her hand over the table. Shaken from her trance, she rapidly regrouped. "Donna Paulsen. Nice to meet you." Then she threw an analyzing yet discreet glance over the body next to Harvey's; from the synthetic hair extensions to the boutique dress, the no-brand pumps, and fake jewelry. She pegged the woman to be in her mid-thirties, desperate for a baby-daddy, and bound to end up as nothing more than another notch on Harvey Specter's mile-long belt.
As the women shook hands, Harvey took in the redhead he—eons ago—had considered one of the few people closest to him; looking as radiant as he remembered, with an added maturity she wore gracefully. The bangs were gone, and the dress seemed tailor-made and did not in the slightest resemble her outfits from the D.A.'s Office. Breathtaking was the only word that came to mind. And was she here by herself?
A deep rumble brought his gaze around as a male voice barked, "Who are your friends, Don?" The man handed Donna a glass of champagne, and Harvey's heart sank.
"Richard Davis, meet Harvey Specter and Amanda…" she trailed off.
"Maranzano," Amanda added. "Pleased to meet you."
"The pleasure is all mine." He smiled, letting an appreciative glance wander over the brunette's physique. She was gorgeous, but definitely not of the Harvard variety, and he briefly wondered if she felt comfortable in the corporate setting. Then he turned his attention to the man whose arm she was clutching. "Harvey Specter! It's a pleasure to meet you. Your reputation precedes you."
"Well, what can I say. If you're as good as I am, people tend to notice."
Donna rolled her eyes, then glanced at Amanda, who was looking up at Harvey with total adoration.
Feeling nauseous suddenly, she downed the champagne in one large gulp, hoping the alcohol would soothe some nerves that had started twisting their way around her spine.
"They sure do. But you know what they say," Richard started, sliding his palm along Donna's back. "Behind every powerful man stands a powerful woman." He locked eyes with Amanda who blushed in response, indicating she had received the compliment.
"That's right," Harvey replied. Yet, instead of fixing his gaze on his date, he stared at Donna until she had to look away.
"Didn't you used to be his secretary?" Amanda chimed in. "I think Harvey has told me about you," she said, proud of her own memory and putting one and one together.
"He has?" Donna asked, surprised, darting her glance back to her former boss who made sure to duck her stare and pretend him mentioning her sometime in the last few months meant nothing even though they hadn't spoken in over a decade. But his date nodded, and Donna's curiosity stirred. "So, how long have you two been dating?"
"Oh, we're not dating," Amanda chirped. "We're in love." And with that statement, the woman's eyes landed back on Harvey, who nearly choked on his scotch.
Donna smiled on instinct—hoping to hide the newly inflamed maelstrom of emotions that was suddenly ready to break the surface. "You're in love. That's great. Congratulations."
As the words left her lips, Harvey's face darkened because he knew she was being sarcastic, but then Richard began asking questions about his latest case, and Harvey focused on the security discussing work provided.
"I heard about the lawsuit filed against Exxon. Is it true they spread all that misinformation about climate change?"
"There's plenty of evidence for it. But you know I can't discuss any details." With a smile, he took another gulp of his drink.
"Global warming isn't real anyway," Amanda deadpanned. "I told Harvey that being green is a lifestyle choice for the middle class. I just don't see how we as people can make any difference when God created cows that produce CO2."
The table fell still as a heavy silence erupted.
Donna stared at Harvey's date, trying to judge if the woman was joking.
Amanda must have noticed the awkwardness as well because she said to Harvey, "What? You know how I feel about this."
Harvey swallowed hard, hoping the shameful heat he sensed flushing his cheeks didn't actually color his skin as he watched Donna and Richard share a look.
Amanda may be beautiful but he should have broken up with her weeks ago. Not only was she an embarrassment to him, for the first time he realized how his lifestyle choice—and the women that went with it—was no longer hailed with a good-for-you and well-done but was more deserving of pitiful smiles and how-sad-for-him's.
He had gone through life wearing blinders, his ego big enough to ignore the whispers, but the events of the last twelve months—his associate going to prison, Jessica leaving New York, the panic attacks that had crippled him in the aftermath and the hours of therapy that followed—had shaped him into a new man who right now wished for an anvil to land on his head. So, he changed the subject. "So, Donna. What do you do? Still working as a legal secretary?"
Donna took a moment to focus, needing to process the stupidity emanating from Ms. My-boobs-are-bigger-than-my-brain as well as the sting she felt from Harvey's subtle jab about her own inferior position. "Actually, I'm about to become COO at Skadden," she said, watching his facial muscles contort in surprise.
"You're kidding! But you're not a lawyer." Shit. That didn't sound supportive at all.
"Turns out you don't need to be." She held his gaze until the wrinkle in his forehead dissolved, and she knew he was apologizing without saying a word.
"That's great, Donna," he offered sincerely. "You'll make one hell of a COO."
"Thanks, Harvey." She smiled at him in silence, and moments passed where they just looked at each other.
In the bright light, Donna had no trouble noticing how the lines in his face were set a little deeper, and his eyes carried a weariness the cocky lawyer at the D.A.'s Office had not sported. But damn him if he didn't still look as handsome as ever.
From her right, Richard cleared his throat, demanding attention she had obviously been directing elsewhere.
"Amanda, how about you and me hit the dance floor and let these two catch up?" he suggested.
For the first time since dating Richard, Donna cursed instead of praised his flawless ability to read the room.
Amanda, switching her frown into a smile, took the tall man's arm as they disappeared towards the center of the ballroom.
With the pair gone, so was their buffer, and Donna felt the gap of discomfort expand like a black hole, capable of devouring everything in its path.
"You two seem serious. How long have you been together?" she quickly asked.
"I don't know. Six weeks or something?"
"You've been dating for barely over a month and she knows who I am?" Donna smirked, failing to hide how her heart leaped knowing she had been on his mind a lot more recently than she'd initially assumed.
"Well, I told her about a case I had against Cameron Dennis a few weeks back, and I explained who he was and what had happened. So, your name came up."
"Right."
Donna watched how Harvey's eyes grew more serious as he stared into his glass and then took a swig. He scanned their surroundings and—without meeting her gaze—mumbled, "I thought you didn't date men you worked with."
Donna shrugged. "I changed my policy."
"Right."
She would have elaborated on the why of it, but he was Harvey and apparently as emotionally unavailable as ever, because there was no follow-up, and the notion some things never changed exasperated her. "Amanda seems nice. So, are you two soulmates?"
"Donna."
She ignored the warning. "No. I mean, I get what you see in her. With three whole brain cells to occupy her skull cavity, she's probably very low-maintenance."
"Don't."
"What? Are you honestly saying you have feelings for her?"
"You know what? How I live my life is none of your business. You don't get to pass judgment on my relationships anymore, okay. You lost that privilege when you quit my desk," he barked.
"Hey, you're the one who dumped me, remember?" Scoffing, she directed her gaze away from the man she had once called a close friend, overwhelmed with emotions from bridges she thought she'd burned. Even years later, Harvey Specter had a hold on her, and she wished she had just stayed home.
A new quiet settled over them as they both stared at their partners dancing near the Christmas tree.
"Why did you come here tonight, anyway?" Harvey finally asked. "You knew I'd be here."
Pounding like the thing wanted out of his rib cage, his heart hammered, and he craved for someone or something to put him out of his misery. God, she had to have been avoiding him all this time. She was aware of all the parties, all the people. She knew at which functions he would show up, and yet, he'd never once seen her at any event. Not that he had been looking for her, or anything.
"Are you implying I've been avoiding you? Don't flatter yourself, Harvey." Even though he wasn't wrong, the last thing he needed was an ego boost. Besides, in her role of legal secretary, she'd been under no obligation to attend these corporate events and had shunned them like the plague. But as COO, the Manhattan world of law expected her to show up. And although she had flirted with the idea to use her network to find out if Harvey had RSVP'd, Donna had decided to let fate take the reins tonight.
She should have known better. Or at least have been better prepared. Because even after ten minutes in his orbit, the air was laden with electrical tension that could ignite an inferno. Apparently, it didn't matter that years had passed since they had parted ways, nor did it matter she had fought like a MMA fighter on steroids to let go of the residual anger she occasionally felt when she thought back on how they had ended things. No. Evidently, the only thing battling those unwanted emotions had achieved was keep something alive that should have died ages ago.
"You have a great dancer here, Harvey," Richard remarked as he and Amanda rejoined the table. But he was met with nothing but silence and a whole lot of sulking. "What's going on with you two?"
"Nothing," they blurted in unison.
Donna observed how Harvey leaned into Amanda's body while she placed a kiss on the smile he had conjured once he'd set eyes on her. So, she turned to Richard and did the same, much to the man's surprise. She wasn't one for PDA, but like hell she'd stand by and watch Harvey be lovey-dovey with his girlfriend. She would show him she had moved on, too.
"You okay, Don?"
"Yeah, I'm fine."
Seizing a champagne glass from a passing tray, she brought the crystal to her lips like the thing was oxygen and she was suffocating. "So, Amanda. What do you do?" she asked once the bubbles were buzzing dangerously around the fringes of her self-control.
"I'm a hairdresser."
"Oh, is that how you two met?"
"It is. Harvey was one of my first customers when I joined the salon I'm now at," she smiled brightly, running her palm down her date's arm.
"Well, that's great. Have you picked out a china pattern yet?"
"Donna…" Harvey growled.
"You're not pregnant, are you?"
"Donna, stop!"
Amanda's eyes grew wide as she looked between her boyfriend and the redhead who a moment ago had seemed perfectly friendly but had suddenly gone Mean Girl on her. "What—"
"Why? You guys are in love, so it must be serious. I mean, knowing you," she pointed at Harvey, "a serial womanizer… That's a big step for you. Admitting that you love someone. So, might as well put a ring on it. You're not getting any younger. And neither is she."
"That's enough," he yelled, putting his drink down. "Come one, Amanda. We're leaving."
The pain that flashed across his face made her close her eyes until she knew for certain they were gone.
.
.
"You wanna tell me what that was all about?" Richard asked, his brows furrowed.
"You slept with her, didn't you?"
"Amanda." Harvey caught up with her near the bar. Glancing at the liquor spread out, he praised whomever thought of the concept of an open bar.
"I may not be very smart, Harvey, but I'm not an idiot. Whatever happened between you two, she's clearly not over it."
That detail was gaining traction in his mind, too. But she had to be over him. After all this time, there was no way she still had feelings for him. Right?
"We only dated for a few months. Years ago. But it didn't work out, and this is the first time I've seen her since."
"So, what happened?" Remembering his impassioned response when the topic of infidelity had arisen, Amanda asked, "She cheat on you?"
"What? No!"
"Then what? She love you and you couldn't reciprocate?"
She stared him down, and Harvey's resolve crumbled under her scrutiny.
"I guess I have more in common with her than I thought," she murmured.
"Amanda, that's not..."
"It's not what? You've been different lately, Harvey. Distant. I thought it was just work, but I don't think that's it anymore."
Harvey watched her eyes gloss over, and he despised himself for once again adding a victim to his extensive list of romantic casualties. He was so goddamn ready for the real thing, but maybe the single life was the price he had to pay for his professional successes. Perhaps having it all simply didn't exist. It sure as hell didn't seem to be in the cards for him.
"I'm sorry, Amanda."
"Save it, Harvey." She shook her head. "I won't make a big scene by leaving. So, let's just get through tonight, and you won't ever have to see me again."
He had to give it to her; she may not have been the brightest, but she read him like a book and handled herself better than he would have given her credit for.
If she let him, he'd still take her shopping next week.
A week later, Donna shuffled some snow out of the way with her comfy, black Ugg boots, making room to lean over the parapet of the Sunken Plaza which gave her a bird's-eye view of the skaters on the ice beneath the Rockefeller tree. Next to her, a couple took shelter in each other's arms, but aside from a few onlookers stretched along the square, there weren't many people out and about. It was 10pm on Christmas Eve, after all.
Donna had met with a group of friends for dinner, but when coffee was served, she had excused herself, feeling restless and out of place and not at all in a merry mood. The snow had stopped falling in the late afternoon, so the weather was perfect for a walk, and she had been wandering around for over an hour.
Somehow, she had wound up here, the one spot in New York City tied to many childhood memories.
Every year until her senior year in high school, her parents had made the trip from Connecticut, come rain or shine, and would spend Christmas Eve ice-skating, drinking hot cocoa, and enjoying everything the city had to offer, before heading home to have dinner together.
She was supposed to bring Richard along this year, but in the morning, she would be flying solo once more when she'd visit them. Disappointment surged for a second. Being single on Christmas was definitely a tradition she couldn't wait to change.
Pulling her coat a little tighter against the cold, she watched the skaters enjoy the winter fun. This season was turning out to be a chilly one, especially now that her nights were spent alone once more.
Unable to explain her embarrassing behavior at that hellish Christmas party, she and Richard had broken up two days later.
Truthfully, she had found it hard to acknowledge that after so many years, she still carried a torch for Harvey. She shouldn't. She was Donna. And yet…
Her New Year's resolution would be to apologize to him. Maybe they'd talk, and she would get some real closure this time—the thing she'd come to realize had been missing all along.
Different scenarios of how that conversation would go started to form in her mind when a familiar voice rumbled beside her.
"Well, if it isn't the ghost of Christmas past."
As if her never-ending string of thoughts had conjured him, Harvey's timbre made her pivot around in surprise to find him cradling a hot cup of coffee, the steam appearing like a thick cloud in the cold air when he blew on it.
In New York, chances of running into someone were pretty low, with two million people living on the tiny island of Manhattan alone, not to mention the millions of tourists you had to wade through on any given day in the City. Yet here she was, with her gray knitted beanie and matching scarf keeping her warm and the thick navy coat hugging her frame, looking more radiant than the angel on top of the gigantic Christmas tree.
He almost forgot he was annoyed with her.
"I don't believe it. Twice in one week." She threw a less than conspicuous glare over his shoulder, expecting his dull-witted girlfriend to materialize at his side at any minute.
"We broke up," he said, catching her off guard.
"I'm sorry."
"No, you're not."
She diverted her gaze to the ice-skating rink. "Harvey, listen…"
"Why did you say all those things to Amanda?" He leaned his elbows on the stone wall next to her.
"I don't know." And now was not the time to examine her motivations.
"'Cause it sounded to me like you were jealous." And the Donna he used to know didn't get jealous. The whole conundrum had occupied his every waking moment for seven days and nights. Because if she had been jealous, that could mean—
"I wasn't."
Harvey debated whether to challenge her denial, but arguing didn't seem appealing. Above all, he wanted to apologize for what had happened eleven years ago, but not if they were about to be interrupted.
"So, where's Richard tonight?" With Donna's attention focused on the people below, he expected the lawyer to be on the ice and braced himself for a barrage of bliss to leave her lips when the last thing he needed was a reminder of how pathetic his love-life was.
"I don't know. We broke up, too. I guess it wasn't meant to be."
"I'm sorry," he said, swallowing his glee.
"Don't be." But she was.
With each passing year, the idea of the one still being out there felt increasingly like believing in unicorns and pots of gold at the end of a rainbow. Maybe true love only existed in movies, because the men she'd dated seemed to grow less and less romantic every year, and a memory struck her. "You know, I remember your dad telling me once that he truly believed in love at first sight. I think, to this day, he's the only man who ever said that to me. He was always such a hopeless romantic." She smiled. "How's he doing?"
Beside her, Harvey's face drained of all color. "He, uhm… He passed away a couple of years ago."
"Oh, Harvey. I'm so sorry." Instinctively, she reached out and clutched his arm.
She had loved Gordon in the short time she had known him and had been privy to the rare display of fondness her then-boss had exhibited towards the man when he'd introduced them. "That must have been so hard. Was he sick?"
"No." Darting his gaze from where her black leather glove wrapped around the wool of his coat to the white of the ice, Harvey cleared his throat from the gravel that had formed there. "Heart attack. We never saw it coming."
Donna paused, watching the memories cross over his face. "I know things between you and your mom weren't great, but have you made up?"
"We haven't."
There were very few situations Donna found hard to imagine, but having a strained relationship with one or both parents was something unfathomable to her. Watching his face lose all joy gave her an inkling of the pain it caused. "Seeing your mom at his funeral must have been awkward then."
Like a deer caught in headlights, Harvey froze.
"What? Don't tell me you missed his funeral." The way he hung his head and looked away provided the answer she didn't want. "I'm so sorry, Harvey."
He wanted to tell her how she was the first person he'd thought about calling when Marcus had given him the news. Instead, he cleared his throat of the emotions lodged there. Perhaps it was the loneliness of spending Christmas Eve alone or Donna recalling his dad that triggered a longing he had kept buried for so long—for that deep connection he used to have with the only person who ever really saw him for who he was. Whatever the cause, he heard himself utter, "Anyway. What do you say we throw on some skates and join the fun below?"
That he would change the subject wasn't all that unexpected, but his proposal sure was. "You skate?"
"No. But how hard can it be?"
The darkness disappeared from his features as a shit-eating grin made his eyes twinkle and her knees buckle. And without another word, Harvey strode towards the stairs, leaving Donna to fight the delight creeping up her spine and follow suit with a hesitant spring in her step.
.
.
Since their rendezvous at the Christmas party, he'd been on her mind non-stop. She'd considered calling him several times but chickened out whenever her thumb had hovered over his name, invoking lame excuses like how he must have changed his number. And now they were about to hang out as if nothing ever happened, and she didn't know what to make of his proposal, torn between her mind's caution warning and her heart's excitement. So, she decided to just go along. For the time being.
Ten minutes later, with blades tied to their feet, they were gliding over the ice. And Harvey wasn't half-bad, she noted, although before strapping on the metal, the mental visual of him chasing a chair had been quite entertaining. Damn him for excelling at everything he tried once. Well, most everything.
Just as she was about to ask where he'd learned how to skate, Harvey slipped, his right leg shooting out in front of him, and he would have landed flat on his back had it not been for Donna pushing him upright a split second before his center of gravity shifted.
"Easy there, big guy," she said, keeping her palms on his shoulders until he regained his balance.
With his heart pounding and his ego bruised, he smiled sheepishly as Donna moved to his front. "Thanks."
She turned her back to him and extended her hands for him to take. "Grab hold. And keep your knees bent."
When Harvey hesitated, she glanced over her shoulder. "I promise, I won't let you fall."
Doing as he was told, Harvey's gloves gripped her wrists, and he was glad for the added layers keeping him from feeling her touch, not sure he could have stood the sensation. Her fingers tightened on him, and she started moving forward, increasing the speed with prowess and determination.
"You okay back there?" she asked after one whole lap around the rink.
"Yeah," he said, beaming, the smile on his freezing face one he couldn't wipe off if he tried. He was having more fun than he'd had all year, being dragged over the ice by his ex like a little kid. He never wanted her to stop, but after another lap she did, and they came to a halt against the boards.
"Where d'you learn how to skate like that?" he asked in awe.
"I was heavily into figure skating when I was seven. It lasted for about two years before I moved on to skiing. My parents used to take me to Aspen every year. I guess I've always loved the snow and cold. I mean, The Winter Olympics are still my favorite."
"I had no idea."
"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me."
Their eyes met, and instantly the cold air around them thickened, forcing Donna to look away.
In the ensuing silence, she stared at her skates as a yearning she had ignored for too long took hold of her heart. With Harvey next to her, she was reminded of what they used to be and how much she missed that. And him. "Listen, Harvey. I'm sorry about how I acted at the party. I think, maybe, I was a bit jealous. And I have no right to be. But just hearing how you two were in love touched a nerve, I guess."
Now it was Harvey's turn to stare at his feet. "I wasn't in love with her," he eventually mumbled.
Donna schooled her features to hide the relief she felt, although she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. After all this time, he still had a hard time committing, and if she'd ever contemplated the concept of a reconciliation, that vision just evaporated like a drop of water on a hot plate. "I guess some things never change."
With haunted eyes, Harvey stared ahead.
"You ever wondered what would have happened if you hadn't left that night?" Donna said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He ran a clearing hand over his face. "Yeah, I have."
"I just don't think this is working, Donna."
"Don't do this, Harvey. Don't run away," she pleaded, her eyes quickly filling with tears as dread quivered her voice.
"I'm not running," he said, clutching the jacket in his hand as he took a step towards her entryway.
"Yes, you are! You just can't stand the fact this could be something real."
"That's not it."
"Then what is it?"
Harvey turned his back on her but remained silent. So, she approached gently, placing her palm on his shoulder. "I'm willing to give you all the space in the world, to deal with whatever is going on in your own time. But I will tell you how I feel and what I think every now and then. Because we're in this together, Harvey."
Hanging his head, he listened to what she was saying. And even though they were all the things he needed to hear, it meant he'd have to access a part of himself he wasn't sure he wanted explored, and the idea alone made him want to run in the opposite direction. Still, he turned around to face her and watched relief brighten her eyes.
"I told you, just because I said it doesn't mean you have to say it, too. But I do love you, Harvey." Staring up at him, she placed her hand on his cheek. "And you can't expect me to hide that." Panic mingled with hope, and it made for a nervous combination to course through her veins as she studied his tangled expression.
From the moment they'd started dating, Donna had been careful not to push him, to let him explore his own emotions as they journeyed together. But last week, after more than two months of dating, she had blurted out those three tiny words that held the power of an atomic bomb.
Hearing her restate that simple phrase made Harvey's stomach twist. He'd seen what love could do. He knew that finding the one could end in betrayals, lies, or worse. He'd seen it with his parents, and he'd be damned to repeat their mistakes. True love was a fairytale, anyway. And Donna—being unlike any woman he had ever come across—embodied a perfection he was convinced didn't exist. And she was supposedly in love with him. Yeah, right. This whole deal simply was too good to be true.
So, he said the only thing he could think of to seal his fate. "I'm just not in love with you, Donna."
Like a sledgehammer to the head, his words nailed her to the floor as she watched him slip into his coat. The second the initial sting made way for the other picture his blatant lie painted, Donna resigned to the fact that his obvious lie only meant he truly wasn't ready yet. And she let him go without protest.
She would have been fine with it—perhaps fine was an exaggeration, but the whole break-up would have been bearable—had the secretary grapevine at Skadden not been in full swing only two days later.
One of the girls had kept on bragging about her hot night spent with the flashy associate at Pearson Hardman who used to work at the D.A.'s Office. And wasn't that just a bucket of ice water in the face during a snowstorm.
That evening, she had texted him without a reply, and when her subsequent calls went unanswered and he never once reached out, she knew that, regardless of their friendship status before they had started dating, she too had been reduced to nothing more than another conquest, to be forgotten as soon as a new one came along. And that hurt like hell.
"You know, I spent some time in therapy recently."
"You did? Voluntarily?" she teased, curiosity flooding her features.
Harvey just gave her a look.
"No, seriously, Harvey. What prompted that?" She'd always known he'd benefit from some emotional deep-diving. And for some inexplicable reason, she regretted losing out on the opportunity to be by his side when he had. He may have treated her like shit, but she knew he was a good man who was only dealt a shitty hand.
"My associate went to prison."
"I heard. He didn't even have a license?"
"It's a long story. But he took the fall for something I did, and I couldn't handle it. And then Jessica left."
"Chicago."
"Yeah. It was just a lot of people leaving." He looked at his feet. "I guess I still have some issues with that."
"Your mom?"
"Amongst other things."
"So, then you're not going to Boston tomorrow?"
He shook his head. "Maybe next year."
"So… What are your plans for Christmas?" she asked, looking at how the tip of her skate was scratching the top layer of ice, unsure why she was asking but certain she didn't want to study her intentions.
"I'll probably just watch the game. Or something." Then he smiled a half-smile. "Come on, I am freezing. Let's get some hot chocolate."
And with those words, he vanished off the ice.
.
.
After the vendor had informed them he'd run out of hot chocolate, they had opted for coffees instead, and Harvey handed Donna hers, glad to have his boots on solid ground again.
"I haven't had vanilla in my coffee in years," he stated, but didn't explain why. To say the taste would have reminded him too much of her would only give her the wrong idea. Like he still missed her or something. But as he watched her sip her drink, he realized he had.
Donna coming into his life had been similar to a map unfolding itself to reveal directions to a destination he didn't know he was pursuing. And once the sides had been exposed, like his heart had been to her, it could never be folded back to its initial state without damaging some of the creases. He'd simply have to find a way to keep her in his life this time. "So, COO, huh? I can't say I'm surprised. You were the best secretary I ever had."
"I'm the best secretary anyone's ever had," she said with a smile.
He smiled at her cockiness, the only woman who'd ever matched him on such a level. But then again, she was different in all kinds of ways.
Out of nowhere, he wondered what would have become of him if she had gone with him to Pearson Hardman and they had never pursued a relationship. For one short year, she'd been part of his life, and yet her presence had been indelible. "You know, for the longest time, there'd be a situation where I'd have to make a decision, and I wouldn't know what to do, and your voice would be there, showing me the way. And I didn't always listen," he smirked, "but it was nice to have."
Her body warmed, and it had nothing to do with the coffee in her hands. "I've thought about you, too, from time to time."
"Of course, you did. I'm very memorable," he said over the rim of his cup.
"You're an idiot." She laughed, a torrent of delight tugging her lips into a much wider smile than she'd cared to wear while shaking her head as something in her belly twisted. Or did it flutter?
Hearing her laughter and knowing he was the cause made him feel as tall as the tree they were near.
Donna met his eyes, and an eternity passed. Suddenly, she was back at the D.A.'s Office, flirting and bantering with him, and having drinks until all hours of the morning. It was everything she had missed most in the last eleven years. "This has been nice, Harvey."
"It has," he agreed with a cautious smile.
No matter how welcome reconnecting had been, there was still a bitterness present along the borders of her forgiveness, and she quenched her own excitement. "Why did you never return any of my calls?"
"I don't know." Sharing that he'd been a coward wasn't something he cared for, but Harvey knew it was the only explanation. That and him being a class-A asshole.
Donna dropped her gaze. "I really thought we'd stay friends," she murmured mournfully. "We made a pretty good team, you know."
Harvey observed the hint of vulnerability in her statement and the smallest of gleams in her eyes, but the hurt surrounding both was unmistakable. Hurt he'd caused. "I remember. And I'm sorry I never called you back. But back then, I couldn't handle the idea that you might have expectations of me. Expectations I could never meet."
"Harvey, all I wanted was you."
"I know." And the fact he hadn't been able to give her more of himself than the physical side only reinforced the notion she deserved better. Even now. For god's sake, he'd shamelessly hit on her the first night they met. How was he supposed to give her everything? But as she stood in front of him, warming her hands on the paper cup, all he could think about was kissing her until the past eleven years vanished and they had a clean slate to start from.
A renewed sense of loss settled in Donna's stomach, laced with residual anger of how he had treated her, all while flashes of how well they fit together—as boss and secretary, as friends, and more vividly, as lovers—attacked her. And then he was tilting her chin up and the next thing she knew his lips were descending over hers, warm and familiar, and horribly unexpected.
"What the hell are you doing?" she said, stepping back. Her entire body went on alert with a big red flag waving 'Danger, Will Robinson!' in her brain.
"What?" He frowned. "I just thought—"
"What? That you could kiss me and everything would be forgotten?" All her Harvey Specter-fortifications pulled up around her heart. She had spent months getting over him and then years trying to forget him, but every time someone had mentioned his name, her heart rate had spiked. And here he was, kissing her like it was business as usual. And she hated herself for wanting more.
"Well, no." Actually, that was exactly what he had hoped, but he couldn't very well admit that. All he knew was that Donna had been the mold he had measured every other woman against. And now that she'd strolled into his life once more, there was no way in hell he'd let her slip through his fingers again. "I just really missed you." He expelled a tense breath, relieved to finally say those words out loud. "Jesus, you have no idea how much."
"Enlighten me." She crossed her arms and waited, feeling like they were back on the ice, having to tread carefully so not to trip and fall and crack her skull open if she let her attention waver for a second.
Harvey choked. Could he tell her how often he had thought about picking up the phone? Would it make a difference for her to know she still haunted his dreams? Should he mention every flash of auburn hair in a crowd made his heart jump simply because it could be her?
As she stood before him now—shoulders squared, jaws locked, eyes ready to incinerate him—her defiance sparked a fire in his gut; the same inferno he'd experienced when she had first introduced herself to him and had changed his life for good. Like a sunrise slowly lighting up the world, Harvey's heart was illuminated by the love he had once known, and he knew exactly what he wanted.
"I never should have let you go, Donna."
The statement made her breath hitch. "I know you weren't ready. But what makes you think you are now? If I'm not mistaken, you just ended something with someone for the same reason we broke up. And that was years ago."
"I know." Dammit. Amanda had been a mistake from the beginning. If only Donna could see how far he'd come. "She just wasn't the one."
He tossed his empty cup in the bin beside the booth and put his gloves back on.
"And you're saying I am?" Deep in her gut a glimmer of hope emerged, but she suppressed the feeling with all her might, knowing he'd never admit as much. And no way was she getting her heart broken by Harvey Specter twice in one lifetime.
"That night, you accused me of running, and I was. Because you were everything I ever wanted. But that was more than I could handle." He took a step towards her. "But I've come a long way from the man I was then, the man you knew."
"I don't know, Harvey." Especially because his non-answer only inflamed the doubt she already carried while stifling the hope that had briefly arisen.
She had gotten burned once before. And the scars hadn't even healed. Why would she want to—
Harvey's mouth captured her lips in a searing kiss that would have melted the ice had they been on it. And this time, something in her shifted. She could fight the still-present attraction or simply give in. But there was no time to consider her options because the uncontrollable feeling of being wanted by the only person she hadn't been able to entice enough to love her screamed, "Screw it!" and kissed him back.
It wasn't like they had a future, she told herself. They'd had their chance, and all signs indicated he was still unable to commit. But for old time's sake, she could take advantage of his talents in the bedroom. One-night stands had happened before, when a lonely—or horny—itch needed scratching. Come tomorrow, they'd go their separate ways and, even though she might regret her decision then, at least she'd have had a good time with him and would call it closure.
So, when his tongue teased her lips, she pushed back with her own.
Harvey knew the moment she relinquished, feeling her teeth draw on his lower lip, sucking and dominating. And he let her, smiling into her mouth.
Kissing her again had been a gamble, but the light shimmering in her beautiful eyes all night had told him she merely needed a little push. And he had been right. So, tonight, he would make love to her, beg her forgiveness, and hopefully reignite the fire that had consumed him before, only this time they'd dance in the flames together.
Too many layers of clothes confining their mobility; gloves instead of fingers to thread through her hair; a thick winter coat preventing his warm body from pressing against her. No matter how tantalizing their kiss was, their location was anything but, and Harvey grudgingly disengaged his mouth from hers.
"What do you say we go back to my place?" His gaze fell on her swollen lips, red cheeks, and nose glowing like Rudolph's.
Hesitation flickered in her hazel eyes, but he couldn't blame her.
"Well, chances of you having a Christmas tree are zero, and since it's still Christmas Eve, how about we go to my place instead?"
The tree was only an excuse. She wanted the sanctuary of her own home and bed, having no desire to run the chance of finding someone else's perfume or lipstick on a pillow in what she was certain was a state-of-the-art bachelor pad.
Harvey closed in until his lips brushed over hers again. "Sounds perfect."
"Just so you know," she said, extending her arm against his chest to maintain some distance while staring him down, "This is a one-night only deal."
Confused, Harvey frowned. A one-night stand with Donna didn't match his idea. But he'd take what he could get. Because he knew a single make-out session couldn't erase the hurt he had caused, but he would damn well try to express his feelings in ways he hadn't been able to before; to let his actions speak for him. "Let's go." He took her hand and tugged her towards the sidewalk where they eagerly awaited a cab.
When one pulled up a few minutes later, Donna welcomed the warmth the car provided as it melted away the jitters sending chills down her spine.
Immediately, she discarded her gloves and Harvey did the same.
The friendly, older driver smiled warmly as he turned the Christmas songs playing on the radio down. No sooner than Donna had given her address did Harvey's hand find hers. Their fingers entwined, and they rode the ten minutes to her apartment listening to the man telling an animated tale of how he was spending the holidays with his daughter and her kids.
She kept stealing occasional glances at Harvey, when their legs brushed at every turn or when she felt him push against her intentionally, while the electricity of anticipation sizzled between them.
So, when they finally arrived, Harvey quickly slipped the man a fifty and wished him a Merry Christmas.
Overhead, tiny flakes of snow drizzled from the sky as he pulled his collar up and joined Donna, who was waiting for him on the sidewalk. He snaked an arm around her waist, hesitating a moment before taking the step up to the building's front door.
He hadn't been listening when she'd given the driver the location and now wish he had. "You haven't moved."
"I haven't. Is that a problem?" she asked, confused by his comment.
"No, it's just… It's nothing," he said, mustering a smile. But it wasn't nothing. There were memories waiting for him upstairs—of being in her arms, of them getting together after a stressful week at work, of him leaving her. Yeah, there were a few he was dead set on erasing tonight.
As they waited for the elevator, the air grew heavy with the weight of their impending activities, smothering them slowly.
Momentarily forgetting this was a casual thing, Donna leaned into his side, needing to feel his body and convince her brain this was actually happening; to inhale his distinctive scent and know this was as real as the snow falling outside.
The bell announcing the elevator's arrival was too loud in the quiet night, and the moment the doors closed behind them, Harvey launched himself at her, pushing her up against the side.
When another ding sounded, they stumbled out of the cart, kissing and groping, like wild animals fighting for control, until they reached her apartment.
Through the miracle of blind coordination, Donna managed to unlock the door and was pressed up against the wood the second they were shut in.
Immediately, Harvey worked himself out of the wool that had kept him warm but was now turning his body into a one-man sauna. He let the heavy layer drop to the floor like the hindrance it was, relieved to have regained the ability to wrap his arms around her frame.
Her winter coat was next, and the moment she shed the garment, his hand cupped a breast, desperate to feel her curves under his touch.
"Harvey," she groaned. While her body certainly rejoiced in his caresses, her brain had yet to get with the program, and damn that gray mass for controlling her speech. She hadn't meant to warn him but still his movements halted.
"Tell me to stop and I will," he murmured, pausing a moment before his lips attached themselves to that soft spot he remembered used to make her whimper in his arms.
As if on cue, she moaned in response.
His glorious assault slowly dragged her under until her doubts surrendered. "Fuck," she cried, digging her nails into his scalp as his hands wandered all over her aching being.
She had always succumbed to his mouth's merciless attack on her skin because his torturous touch made her feel alive in marvelously unique ways, almost like an out-of-body experience after which her senses were heightened and she was changed forever. But she reminded herself of the boundaries she'd set: One night only. And her resolve wouldn't falter. All she needed to think about right now was getting naked and letting Harvey devour her until she saw stars. He owed her that much.
Leaving a trail of clothes, they staggered into the bedroom as eleven years of regrets and abandoned desires clashed in the air like an invigorating thunderstorm on a hot summer's night. Motions were frantic; urgency driving them forward. But when they tumbled onto the mattress clad only in their underwear and Donna offered herself to him, Harvey paused.
Under her spell, he was the luckiest sonofabitch on the planet and the loneliest one at the same time, because shame, sorrow, and guilt battered him senseless. But although Donna had drawn some laser-sharp lines, he wasn't about to let that faze him, especially when his soul kept roaring the opposite. He wanted her, wanted to be with her, and he'd give it his all to make her believe in him again.
So, the kiss he gave her was slow and deliberate, savoring her taste and the way her lips felt against his own.
"God, I've missed you," he mumbled, hovering over her, and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as his arousal thickened painfully. Then he kissed her passionately and ground his hips into her pelvis to enforce his statement and rejoice in some much-needed friction.
Donna absorbed his body's thrusts, coaxing him on with silent pleas while inquisitive fingers traveled down her shoulder, taking her bra strap with them. He placed his lips where the strap had been and kissed a path down the valley of her breasts, skillfully pulling the front clasp free with one hand and drawing the fabric aside.
Once her freckled skin was exposed, Harvey took his time kissing and nibbling and ignoring the urgency between his legs. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, before slipping a nipple between his teeth and sucking leisurely while massaging her other breast with his free hand.
The sudden change in pace pushed Donna's thoughts into higher gear. Time to mull over why this was a dangerous idea was the last thing she needed right now. She needed him to fuck her brains out, to make her forget about life for a while so that later she could say she only used him for the sex. But he was saying all these things, taking his goddamn time, when with every passing heartbeat she was at risk of her strong resolve wobbling like the first domino in the row, and once that tipped over, it would put in motion a chain effect with consequences she could not yet oversee.
"Harvey, please," she begged, slipping a hand down his briefs, hoping the move encouraged him to pick up the pace.
Feeling him in her grip, her fingers barely closing around his girth, reminded her he was the definition of perfection. Physically, he was everything she valued in a man's physique; sexy, fit, capable. Too bad he lacked so much emotionally. Although he did say he'd been in therapy. And a lot could change in eleven years—she certainly wasn't the same person. And had he seemed disappointed when she'd demanded this was one-night only?
Stop it, Paulsen! she commanded herself. She was not falling for him again!
In some dire need of action to distract her from her thoughts, Donna pushed at his shoulders and he relented, rolling on his back with a grin on his face, anticipating her next step. She quickly removed her panties and crawled between his thighs to release his already protruding length from its cotton confines.
Harvey kept his gaze glued to her as she circled her palm around his shaft, from base to tip where she squeezed, and then slid down again to repeat the motion, while hovering her lips over his arousal.
"Are you…" she asked, letting the question hang between them.
"I'm okay. You?"
"Yeah." Then she slipped him into the warmth of her mouth, registering in the back of her mind how Harvey arched off the bed, grunted, and gripped the sheets.
Yeah, she'd make him regret ever walking away, and this hookup had now officially become payback. Therefore, she didn't relish his taste, nor did she allow the memories of how he'd made love to her before to pierce her psyche. She also tried not to notice how toned his body was, or compare it to the images stored in her brain—the same images that had plagued her dreams from time to time—although that last feat proved harder. And when she settled herself over his hips, took his throbbing member in her hands and impaled herself on him—inch by delicious inch—she ignored that voice telling her how perfectly they fit. Like yin and yang. Complementing each other while balancing each other out. Like Harvey and Donna used to do.
To drown out the visions, she rode him hard, letting her heartbeat race until it pounded in her ears; grinding her core over his pubic bone until she exploded into ecstasy.
As her movements halted in the aftermath of her orgasm, Harvey took control—as she expected and hoped he would—flipping them over, and pounding into her from above, as they both lay on their sides, and then from behind.
Donna rejoiced from the pleasure as she was brought to the brink of climax over and over again; his touch now perfected, his hands and hips even more versatile than she remembered.
Out of dizzy desperation, she clung to the sheets, but Harvey pulled her body upright and into his own, attaching his lips to her skin, and sending her into a frenzy of euphoria, her legs shuddering like they were made of Jello as she rode the orgasm pummeling into her in thick waves of delight—well aware her fantasy was drawing near.
He granted her little time to catch a breath before settling over her one more time and burying his nose in the crook of her neck, her scent the last push before he announced his impending release in a low growl.
A few more thrusts, and he launched himself over the edge.
Panting, sweating, and with a sated grin etched on his face, he collapsed on top of her.
Donna laid back as he left feather-light touches with his lips on her cheeks, her chin, and her forehead, like she was suddenly made of porcelain. "That was amazing," he breathed out. "You're amazing."
Unsure where the words were coming from—each syllable originating from a different well than the usual placations he was used to offering—they rumbled through his naked soul, and he sought her kiss.
Everything felt…strange, unusual. A year in therapy had opened him up to a shitload of pain, but it had also allowed him to feel more deeply and honestly, goading him to commit to something he hadn't previously been ready for. "If you give me a chance, I swear I won't let you down this time."
Still connected, he kissed her again, vehemently, and with far more devotion than he knew he possessed. And damn him, but speaking his heart's truth felt goddamn good.
Donna kept his mouth glued to hers because she was bound to lose the grip she held on her emotions the minute she'd gaze up into his eyes, already feeling the tears pool behind her own closed lids.
This was everything she had ever wanted; to be in his arms; to wake up next to him every morning and fall asleep in his arms every night. She had only gotten a taste of that life, but like heroin, she'd been hooked from the moment Harvey had chosen her. Then everything had gone to hell, with accompanying withdrawal symptoms and the ever-present danger of relapsing. And, right now, she was close to falling off the wagon.
However, the desire to be with him was too large to ignore this time, and the tense pull almost outweighed her intention to not get sucked into his world again.
Almost.
Unlinking their bodies, Harvey rolled off her but drew her on top where she draped herself over his chest, avoiding his eyes. He knew she was struggling. Unlike the Donna he used to know, she was keeping him at arm's length, evidence of the havoc he'd wrecked when he had walked away.
He let his gaze wander over their tangled bodies, sheer delight warming his insides as he considered how goddamn lucky he was to have her with him again. "I'm really glad I found you tonight."
"What do you mean, found me? That sounds as if you were looking for me."
"I wasn't. Not intentionally. But I remembered you once told me about your family's Christmas Eve tradition, and for some reason, on my way home from dinner, I ended up staring at Prometheus. And there you were." He planted a kiss on top of her head. "Like it was meant to be."
Screw destiny, Donna thought. If they were so meant to be, they never would have broken up in the first place and spent a whole goddamn decade apart. Fate had played a cruel game, turning mind-tricks and making her believe they could have it all. No, Harvey Specter was an emotionally unaware womanizer who was incapable of love. Period.
"I have to get up early."
She kissed his lips, then turned in his arms, switched the lights off, and said, "Goodnight."
Suddenly in the dark, Harvey frowned, ignoring the looming sense of dread the darkness created.
Without warning, Donna had put an end to whatever he might have planned, and he was stunned into echoing her words before laying his head down. His stomach twisted from the coldness in her tone and the disappointment clouding his joy from what he had hoped would be an epic reconciliation—one they would tell their grandkids about someday. But apparently, his honesty couldn't blur the lines she'd drawn, and as a result, his bravery wavered.
Still, tonight he got to hold her in his arms, and if this turned out to be the last time he would, he might as well enjoy it. So, he slipped his arm around her chest and softly pulled her into his body, convinced she wasn't yet asleep. "I've really missed you," he reiterated, leaving a kiss on her cold, exposed shoulder.
Donna stirred under his touch, hummed, but didn't say anything. And the silence was deafening.
"Hey, is everything okay?" he whispered.
"I'm just tired. Let's get some sleep, okay?"
Nothing about this was okay, but Harvey acquiesced. She could have been kicking him out but wasn't, meaning she hadn't shut the door on him yet. Perhaps waking up in each other's arms would give her a different perspective, and he'd seize the moment then.
.
.
The next morning, Harvey awoke to a still dark bedroom and an empty bed. Lazily, he ran a hand over his face and sat up, taking in his surroundings. The room had been redecorated, but Donna's essence permeated the air. The scent was enough to get him hard again until his eyes landed on the chair by the window where he discovered his clothes, neatly folded. His cellphone—most likely having slipped from his pocket—was stacked on top.
His heart sank. Apparently, her one-night only policy was non-negotiable. So, he got dressed and braced himself as a large rock coiled in his stomach. Sure, it would sting for a while, but he'd survive her rejection. What use was there in fighting if she didn't want him to begin with?
Sauntering into the living room, he found her on the sofa, her back towards him, knees pulled up, staring into a cup of coffee. The lit Christmas tree she was facing was decorated stylishly but with a clear personal touch in the form of ornaments ranging from tacky to luxurious. No doubt, each one came with a story he was suddenly dying to hear. Below the tree lay presents wrapped in paper the color of the decorations; gifts, he figured, for her family.
The storybook picture entailed everything he'd gone without his entire adult life, and a gray loneliness swept across his chest cavity.
"Hey. Merry Christmas," he murmured, caressing her shoulder gently to catch her attention as he planted himself on the backrest. He wasn't going to bolt, but at least he could be at the door in a few strides from here if she wanted him to leave.
Shaken from her reverie, Donna looked up at him and summoned a smile. "Merry Christmas. There's coffee in the kitchen."
Her off-white morning gown matched the tree, like she was one of the presents waiting to be unwrapped. But something told him this particular gift didn't have his name on it. "What's going on?"
"Nothing, Harvey. Everything's fine."
Her evasive eyes expressed a different story. "What's wrong?"
No response.
"Donna. I know that look. Talk to me."
Silence reigned until she mumbled, "I think we made a mistake."
Studying her expression, Harvey tried to determine what drove her to draw such a conclusion without so much as talking to him. And yet, the urge to agree, shut the door, and never turn back—his initial instinct whenever rejection hung in the air—hit him like a freight train. But he had learned not to listen to every single impulse his mind fabricated. So, he went around and sat next to her on the couch, glad to find his move unchallenged. "Why?"
She absentmindedly shook her head at a memory that had haunted her all night, keeping her from catching any zzz's. "We had broken up less than two days before I heard how you had slept with another secretary at Skadden. How do you think that made me feel? And then you never returned my calls and basically cut me out of your life, like I had meant nothing to you."
Guilt slapped him in the face. "Donna, I'm sorry. What do you want me to say?"
"I don't know, Harvey. You say you've changed, but I don't know. I want to believe you, but I can't fall for you again and then realize you weren't ready. Again. I just can't."
The truth was, after they were both coming down from their orgasms and he'd told her how beautiful he thought she was and how he was going to do things differently this time, she had fallen for him all over again.
His words, what he was offering, had brushed against the love she had been searching for her whole life. And never finding that person with whom she had that spark, that connection, she had only ever known with him, had worn her out.
Every guy she'd dated had been an attempt to erase his memory. But cutting away at the vine lacing her heart since their break-up tore open the tissue anew, comparing her new man to someone she used to know. And nobody measured up, leaving her with a lacerated heart and an emptiness where he should have been.
So, in the heat of the moment, she had watched her walls crumble and then tripped over the debris as the floodgates opened. And for the longest time, falling had felt like flying. But it always did until you hit the ground.
Harvey, humming with dense delight knowing she had pondered the idea of a reconciliation, reached down and captured her hand. "I know you have no reason to trust me, and I'm so sorry I hurt you." In her grievous gaze, he could tell a painful memory flickered. "I was a jerk to you before, but…" He paused and inhaled. He wanted to tell how he'd lied, how he had loved her, could love her again in an instant, if she let him. Instead, he said, "I never stopped thinking about you, Donna. You were the best thing that ever happened to me." Then he brushed his knuckles over her cheek. "And more than anything, I want to give this a shot. But you have to forgive me first. Can you do that?"
Unspoken words danced in his pleading eyes, and a vulnerability she hadn't seen before began to strip away her objections. Hope flared around her wounded heart as his thumb rubbed soothingly over her skin. And so she handed him the power to effortlessly crush her entire existence, holding onto that fragile vision of a dream he kept insisting she could have.
"Do you really think you're ready now?"
"I think so. I want to be. And I can't promise it will all be smooth sailing from here. But it's you, Donna. It's always been you."
It was the best he could do and all she needed as the darkness was expelled, replaced by his handsome face and this morning's vow she would make damn sure he kept. "Then I forgive you." Scanning his features, she beamed. "Because I'm not waiting another decade for you to get your shit together."
"So, you did wait for me." He smirked, leaning in.
"That's not what I said."
"But it is what I heard." Elation tore his face into a smile as he pulled her body close. But then his biggest regret bubbled to the surface, and his joy vanished. "That night…" He paused. "I lied when I said I didn't love you."
Donna's eyes shot up to his, and she felt like a slap to the chest was justified. "I knew it! Ugh. You really are an idiot, you know that."
"I do. Because…" He inched closer. "You were the one that got away, Donna."
"That you let go," she corrected, still ducking his advances, causing her to slide under him.
"Let's not get technical here," he breathed, his mouth and body now hovering over hers. "It's Christmas. Just let me enjoy unwrapping my present." His fingers tugged at the sash of her silk dressing gown, letting the fabric flow down her shoulders to expose nothing but skin.
He purred in appreciation.
Donna lunged up and helped herself to his lips before any more nonsense left them. His weight pushed her into the cushions as he kissed her repeatedly. Soon thereafter, he was inside her, filling her with his love until she burst with so much happiness, her eyes pooled with tears.
Above her, Harvey stilled. "Hey." And when she met his gaze, he said. "I'm all in."
"I know, I can feel you," she teased, writhing under him.
"No, I mean it, Donna. You and me."
"I know," she whispered against his lips, arms secured around his neck. "Now shut up and make love to me."
She didn't need to tell him twice.
.
.
Later, when Harvey laid on his side, limbs draped over her body, enjoying Donna's nearness on what was shaping up to be the best Christmas ever, Donna tapped his arm.
"Come on, you have to get changed."
"Why?"
"You're coming to Connecticut with me."
"What? No!" He wasn't sure why he was objecting, but some behaviors were in place for protection and self-preservation. That much he'd learned from his therapist. So, he weighed their use and concluded, in this case, they might be warranted.
"It'll be fun. My mom makes a killer eggnog. And my dad will be watching the game, too. And if you're lucky, my sister will drop by and that always ensures plenty of family drama for entertainment."
"You have a sister?!"
"I do. We only see each other once a year. That should tell you enough. Now, what do you say? I'll let you drive," she added in a final effort to persuade him.
A smile appeared on his face causing Donna's insides to jump for joy.
"Just don't get the Ferrari, okay? The last thing I want is for the headlines to read, 'lawyer and former secretary killed in crash because he was overcompensating'." With a knowing look, she held his stare as she watched him battle her objection to form a comeback.
"Fine. But it's still gonna be a fast car."
"Harvey, it's snowing. We're not getting anywhere fast."
"We'll see about that." He kissed her long and hard, but eventually came up for air, and he studied her face; all the lines, the freckles, her soft lips, and eyes that could look into his soul. He'd loved her in another lifetime, but right now, there was a different kind of love flooding his veins; the kind he assumed people talked about whenever they described true love. The sensation—unlike anything he had ever experienced before—splintered the walls around his heart into a million pieces and made his eyes water.
She was the one.
With Donna still oblivious to the inner ticker-tape parade making his insides dance, he placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Maybe we can go to Boston for New Year's," he muttered. "I think it's time to mend some fences, and I want you with me when I do."
Donna looked into eyes that carried a new depth as they met hers and smiled—the one-eighty of him including her in his life all the proof she'd ever need. "I'd love to, Harvey."