Chapter 6
Love me how?
She can't believe she actually asked him that and, what's worse, that he couldn't, or wouldn't, give her an answer. Humiliation and heartbreak sting inside her bones every time she thinks of that night.
He told her they had everything. And yeah, right, he did. He had all of her, all the parts he asked for or needed or she willingly offered.
She didn't.
There are parts of Harvey that are out of her reach. Some other version of him that exists within glimpses of what they could be but never fully are. And when those glimpses fade away she is left with the reality that there is so much of him she still needs and wants and craves and he's never been ready to give.
All those nights she went home after work, sat on her couch with a glass of wine and felt the loneliness streaming in her blood flow. Or what was so much worse – all the times she went to a boyfriend's arms, anyone who wasn't Harvey, and felt just as alone.
Fantasies of everything they could be hurt the most because she knows, she knows, they could be so happy. But Harvey is just not willing to try.
She told him he was afraid to risk anything, but now she constantly wonders if she could really blame him for that when she also couldn't find it within herself to tell him what she wanted.
Asking for everything sounded too big and scary and life-changing but she did want something else. Something more. What they have may be undefined but it's something as solid and real as the weight of his body on top of hers and she couldn't pretend she didn't feel it anymore.
She gets it if he's frightened by the immensity of everything they could be, she really does, because she is, too. What she doesn't get is the part of him that acts like nothing's ever happened, that takes back his words and says his actions have no meaning, that hides away and completely denies ever feeling anything.
She needed space. Real space, not just not-sleeping-with-you-anymore space, to clear her mind, to fix what was broken, to try and forget him or maybe, just maybe, and she hates the part of her that thinks that maybe…
Distance could make him see.
Shortsightedness. Some things seem clearer from afar. It would explain why Harvey can't see what's right in front of his face, even when just about everybody else sees it.
So she left him.
She's been working for Louis for the last three months. Not on shitty terms with Harvey for a week and a half. And he was bold, she'll give him this much. He was bold coming to her about this, asking her out to Del Posto because it's May 20th and she forgot to unlock the day from his calendar when she left his desk and he says he wants to go back to being friends.
It's sweet, really.
She needed to distance herself from him but she wasn't really aware of what distance from Harvey felt like. She's used to being near him twelve hours a day. Used to his voice on the intercom and his phone calls at midnight. Used to putting him first and having a professional excuse for having Harvey at the forefront of her mind for most of the day. But not anymore. She's supposed to think of herself now. (And she does. She thinks about how much she misses him.)
Either way, she never intended to cut him out of her life completely. Her intentions beyond that breaking point weren't so clear and definitive, she was just trying to protect herself there, to do what was best for her for once, but she doesn't think she could cut Harvey completely out of her life even if she wanted to, even while she's trying to.
It hurt like hell when Harvey started treating her like a stranger. And he said he didn't want to move on, that two adults who care about each other don't move on at all, but he also clearly didn't want to move forward then and, after that, didn't seem like he cared for her unless he had her in the only way he was willing to accept.
But if now he's willing to fix their relationship, to go back to being friends, to still have her in his life… of course she would always give him a chance.
It's actually a huge relief. Maybe she would stop feeling like her world had spinned upside down if she got a little bit of him back.
So she agreed to see him on Wednesday night.
.
.
Harvey tries not to think about what excuse Donna told Louis to leave work early tonight. He's sure as hell she didn't tell him she was meeting him or Louis would have lost his shit, scared to lose her, and as bitter as the thought of Donna working for Louis is, he can't blame the man for being desperate not to lose her. He actually relates.
He hopes they can salvage some of what they had. As Donna had made perfectly clear to him that night three months ago, she doesn't think they had everything. But they damn sure had a lot. A lot he's not willing to lose.
He's never been able to define their relationship – has never even tried. She's his… friend. The person he trusts the most in this goddamn life. The person he has always counted on. The one person who truly gets him. His constant. His once-a-year everything. His secretary.
Ex secretary.
He doesn't know what she is but he knows how empty his life has been ever since she stopped being.
He picks her up at her place. He went straight from work, had Ray stop at her apartment and take them both to Del Posto. And, yeah, it's a little awkward at first. They try and make small talk on the drive over, but they haven't really talked in months and the last time they did was a catastrophe. Donna catches up with Ray and he hopes it's not to avoid the moment she'll have to catch up with him.
But it's their anniversary and their place and them and Harvey doesn't even realize when exactly it happens but they fall into place. Comfortable with each other as they always have been. She even tells him stupid stories about her new boss and manages to make him laugh about it and he hasn't thought about Jack Soloff and his bullshit for hours and, holy shit, he misses her so fucking much.
She notices the look on his face as that thought crosses his mind and he hates that he misses even that – being so easily known.
"What?" she asks.
"I just realized I haven't thought about Jack Soloff and his bullshit for two hours." He finds it better to omit the other half of his thoughts.
"I'm glad we did this, Harvey."
"Me too. We should do this more often," he says, so glad to be spending the evening with her the words naturally fall out of his mouth.
He avoids her gaze, taking a sip of wine. He doesn't know where they stand. Before all this mess, they couldn't sleep together because she worked for him and she had a rule. Before all this mess, she would open a once a year exception for him because they couldn't handle the crushing weight of their sexual tension if she didn't. And now…
It's scary as shit to think there's nothing standing in their way anymore. Her rule can't stand if she's not his secretary. But if he's lost her already, then why the hell is he still so afraid to lose her?
But it's their day. He doesn't need to offer her everything to have some hope for today. She agreed to be here tonight with him and he doesn't want to get ahead of himself because he knows they're in a rough patch, but what better way to go back to being them than honoring their agreement? It had always weighed heavily on them that this is the one opportunity they have to be together and it hasn't stopped weighing on him now, even while so much has changed.
They should do this more often. Why once a year? Who the fuck had this stupid idea? This is torture and senseless and they sure can find a better way to deal with their need for each other now that she doesn't work for him anymore. They can find a way other than their agreement to do this, a way that's more constant but also safe so he doesn't fuck up their relationship even more than he already has and loses her for good, since clearly getting his feelings involved was a bad idea. It's what made her leave. So this possibility has to be the one silver lining about this goddamn nightmare he's living in.
"What do you mean?" she asks, frowning, that little line between her eyebrows showing she obviously cut through his casual tone and knew he meant more than he was letting on.
Harvey shrugs, trying to simplify a thought that seems too monumental for his vocabulary. "Just… That we have a good time together and that I miss you and I think we could… do this more often."
Donna takes a deep breath, avoiding his gaze for a moment. "Well, I'm not sure how Mitchell would feel about that," she says.
"Who's Mitchell?"
"He is the man that I've been seeing for the last six weeks." She smiles, playing with the stem of her glass, and Harvey wants to crash the bottle of wine to the floor. "He is… He is smart and he is funny and… Best of all, he has nothing to do with the practice of law."
He feels his world turn on its axis, a heaviness crushing his chest and the words escaping out of his mouth. "Are you kidding me?"
Donna blinks at him, taken aback by his quiet ferocity, not understanding what he means. "What?"
"You're with someone?"
"Yes. I just told you. Mitchell."
"Then what the hell are we doing here tonight?!"
"What the hell are we…?" she repeats his words, an incredulous look on her face. Then she shakes her head, avoiding his eyes as disappointment flashes through her features. "You've gotta be kidding me. That's what you thought tonight was, Harvey? You thought you would just take me to bed?"
"You say it like that's not exactly our agreement!" he says and maybe it doesn't come out right, the intention probably shadowed by his anger, because if looks could kill, he would be a dead man right now.
"When I said I was leaving you, you didn't think our agreement was off?" she asks with disdain. He notices her eyes reddening while she speaks and it probably really is anger, as she's making so clear, but he can't help but see sadness in there too.
"You wanna know what I thought, Donna? I thought you don't work for me anymore so we can stop living by your goddamn rule!"
"Oh yeah, of course that's what's been on your mind, not the reason why I don't work for you anymore in the first place."
She's wrong there, he thinks. He's been dwelling a lot on how he was such an idiot letting words like 'love' escape his mouth when he's not even sure what that means. Of course he loves her. She's one of the most amazing women he's ever met. The most amazing woman he's ever met. And she's his… But that doesn't mean he…
He has no idea what he meant.
"And you're such a hypocrite, Harvey," she adds. "What the hell does it matter to you if I'm with Mitchell or not when you're with Esther?!"
It feels like a left hook right to his gut. Completely unexpected. He struggles to take a breath.
"What?"
"Oh please. It took me all of two seconds to put it together after I saw you two mooning over each other this morning."
"It's not what you think," he says, working hard so his tone doesn't sound too defensive. "We bonded together during her divorce proceedings."
She takes a deep breath, trying to get her voice to come out even, trying to get back on track. This was about saving their relationship and right now they're failing miserably.
She didn't expect Harvey to bring up their agreement at all. Just dinner was not how they celebrated their anniversary, but after everything that happened and considering they've only managed to be civil to each other recently she couldn't imagine he would expect anything more.
She tries to stir them to the right direction. "Harvey, you said you wanted to be friends. This is me being your friend–"
"Friends don't know the way you taste, Donna!" he whisper shouts, barely remembering they're in a full restaurant.
Her lips part in shock. She looks around, concerned someone might have heard him, and it pisses him off even more that she would be worried about what others would think right now.
"What did you just say to me?" she threatens when her eyes meet his again, like slits in anger.
He completely ignores the disappointment in her face. "You heard me. You know what this day means to us and yet you came here and decided to tell me about someone else as if it's great news?"
"You're with someone else, Harvey. And, by the way, you need to tell Louis you've been sleeping with his sister."
"I don't need to do that because, for once, your radar is off. We haven't been sleeping together. We slept together one time."
"What difference does that make? You promised him you wouldn't do it at all."
"Donna, I don't fucking care about Louis! Stop acting as if this conversation has anything to do with him!"
"Well, as your friend, I thought I should let you know you need to tell him, but since you decided we're not that anymore, even though you asked me here tonight saying you wanted to go back to being friends…" Her voice sounds strangled, the knot in her throat from the restrained urge to cry hurting her vocal cords. "You just do whatever you want to, Harvey. You always do anyway."
"Well, clearly I don't just do whatever I want to…" he says in disdain, taking a sip of his wine to clear his throat, gazing sideways.
His words hit her and she feels stupid for being shocked by them. He wants to fuck her and that's it. She knew that already and how naive and ill-judged of her to let herself be fooled by declarations of feelings he obviously never meant or empty words about salvaging something they never had. She thought they did. She thought even if he didn't really love her, she was still important to him in some way other than in a professional capacity, but maybe not if that's how he sees their relationship.
"You know what, Harvey? This was a mistake. Coming here tonight. I thought you wanted to try and save our relationship but I don't think we even have one. I'm not your secretary anymore and you made it clear that was everything I could ever be to you. And tonight you made it clear that we're not even friends. So if it's sex that you want I'm sure you can find that elsewhere. With Esther, for example, even though 'you only slept with her once'," she says making air quotes, her fingers quickly swiping a tear away from her eyes in their way back down. "I think we're really done here. I thought we could still be… whatever we were even if I didn't work for you anymore but it's clear that to you we are nothing so… We can just stop pretending and you can go back to treating me like a stranger. That's what I'll do from now on. I'm done, Harvey. I'm really done this time."
She takes a deep, trembling breath. Grabs the napkin from her lap and places it slowly on the table. Her hands shake but Harvey doesn't see it, his own vision blurry, his mind foggy, his breath beginning to choke him as his heart beats a million heartbeats a second and he doesn't get how it could still be beating when he's pretty sure she took it with her when she got up and left.
She's done.
He can't breathe anymore and this can't be happening. Not again. Not here. Not now...
.
.
She's right outside of Del Posto, hugging her coat around her body, trying to hail a cab and keep her tears at bay when a voice startles her.
"Miss?" the voice calls again, and she looks over her shoulder at the waiter calling her by the door, realizing he might have called before and she didn't hear. He's wide eyed and it makes her nervous. "Your friend…" he says, hesitantly.
Something coils horribly in her stomach. She knows something is wrong with Harvey, can suddenly feel it deep in her bones.
"What happened?"
"I think he's sick. Can you come and–"
She doesn't even let the guy finish the sentence before she's bursting back into the restaurant, terrified out of her mind. She quickly notices he's not at their table anymore and her chest sinks, but thankfully the waiter is right behind her, telling her he's in the restroom and accompanying her there, which is good because she doesn't think she can tell left from right.
When she goes through the restroom door she sees Harvey seated on the floor, his forehead pressed to his knees and clearly shaking. He's sweaty and shivering and the way his shoulders heave tells her he's not breathing right at all. There's a restaurant employee standing beside him, a cellphone in his hand, telling Harvey he's calling 911 and Harvey's strangled voice tells him not to.
"Sir, we've got to call the hospital. You are clearly unwell–"
Donna rushes through the door, kneeling in front of Harvey, shaky hands hesitantly resting on top of his where they clutch his legs, whispering his name. The last time she felt scared like this was about three months ago when she almost went to prison and she's pretty sure this is much more terrorizing.
Harvey raises his head from where it rests on his knees to follow the sound of her voice, reddened eyes locking with her wide ones.
"Don–" he tries saying with what little breath he has in his lungs.
"Harvey– Are you…" she starts, eyes frantically travelling all over his features, trying to find something that tells her that he's okay but he's clearly not. She glares up at the restaurant employee, rushing him. "Call the goddamn number!"
"No," Harvey weekly protests.
"Harvey, you could be having a heart attack!" she says, more desperate than she would like to sound, one hand traveling from his to land over his chest, feeling the desperate thumping of his heart beneath his suit.
"It's not…" Harvey tells her, dropping his head back between his knees and adding on a choke, "It's a panic attack."
The room is completely silent for a crushing moment as the revelation hits her. She feels the ground sinking down beneath her knees and her heart crashing and she can't imagine how his feels.
"We'll give you some time," the restaurant employee beside them says in a quiet voice, walking out to join the waiter by the door, which they close behind them, leaving Harvey and Donna alone.
She doesn't know what to do. Right in front of her sits the strongest man she's ever met and right now he's not even strong enough to breathe on his own.
Her hand slides to the back of his neck. He is hot, the short hairs at the nape of his neck wet with sweat and she can feel his ragged breath on the palm of her hand.
"Harvey," she calls, trying so hard to make her own voice sound controlled and firm even though she's scared out of her mind. "Harvey, look at me."
He does. Responding to her voice and looking into her eyes. His pupils are dilated, his eyes red rimmed and wet, sweat collecting in his eyebrows. Shaking. His breath loud and inefficient.
She carefully places one hand on his face, caressing his cheek. With the other, she grabs his hand and brings it to herself, pressing his cold palm against her chest and keeping it there, with her hand covering his. She takes a deep, steadying breath she hopes he'll mimic.
"Just breathe, Harvey." Air comes deeply into her lungs and slowly out, pushing their joined hands up and down. Together. Calming. Her thumbs brush slowly over the back of his fingers and over his cheek as she whispers, "I'm here. Just breathe with me."
And he does. Even in the depths of his panic, he follows her voice, the steading rhythm of her breath, her soothing touch. And he clings to the hazel of her eyes to focus his sight. On the guidance of her breath to steady his. On the feeling of her skin against his to calm his panic. To ground him. Because she might be the trigger to what's happening to him but she's also his safe haven and his compass. She's always been.
They stay like this for so long her knees hurt. After a while, he closes his eyes, focusing only on his breathing. Their breathing. She keeps stroking his cheek with one hand, the other safely keeping his pressed to her chest, hoping his lungs and his heart will follow the rhythm of hers.
Eventually, she feels his breath evening. His hand tensing beneath hers. She lets her own hand drop from his face to his shoulder and waits until he's ready.
He finally opens his eyes, looking straight into hers. She dries the wetness around his eyelids with her fingertips, not realizing there's also a tear running down her face until his own hand gently reaches for her, the backs of his fingers sliding carefully on the top of her cheekbone to dry it.
"Are you okay?" she asks in a tone so low, she's not sure her voice actually came out.
He nods. It's only once and slow, but it's enough for her. He's not okay, but the worst has passed.
There's a bottle of water on the floor beside them, one of the employees had brought in with them, and she reaches for it, opening the cap and offering it to Harvey. He takes gulp after gulp. Once he's done, he dries his mouth with the back of his hand, placing the bottle beside them.
Donna quits her kneeling position, crawling to sit on the floor beside him, her arm presses against his and she turns her face, resting her chin on his shoulder, asking quietly, "Harvey, what's going on?"
He turns to look at her, and she's so close. Her chin on his shoulder and wide, scared eyes looking up at his.
"I've been having these..." he mumbles, his breath hitting her face. "Panic attacks."
"How long?" she asks.
He looks at her quietly and her chest tightens even more because she knows.
"Harvey…!" Her voice cracks. She moves even closer to him, her front pressing against his arm and her hand coming up to his chest, a fresh new set of tears collecting at the corners of her eyes.
"I'll come back," she says earnestly.
"Donna– What?"
"I'll come back to your desk. I'll call Louis and we can put everything that's happened out of our minds and–"
"Donna, stop. I can't force you."
"You're not forcing me. I'm telling you I'll come back."
He drops his head, resting his forehead against hers, a crushing heaviness in his chest that has nothing to do with panic and everything to do with the weight of putting her first in this.
"You know I want you back," he says quietly. "But not like this. Not because you feel guilty. This is not your fault."
"It's not just guilt, Harvey. How can I move on with life knowing you're feeling like this?"
"Please don't make me convince you to stay gone," he begs, with the slightest tinge of humor in his voice. "I never wanted you to go and even if I'm clearly not dealing well with it, when you come back, I want it to be because you actually want to. Not because you're scared. You said… this was not working for you anymore and I might not understand it and I definitely don't like it but… I'm learning to respect it."
"Are you taking care of yourself?" she asks, in a small voice.
"I am. I'm going to therapy and taking some pills… It's just not always something I can control."
"You're going to therapy?" she blinks up at him.
Harvey nods. "And apparently what happened when… when you left, how this all started, was just a trigger. Or at least that's what they're telling me. So it's not even really about…"
He feels her take a deep breath against his body before she fixes him with a hard, determined look.
"You're gonna be okay, Harvey. You're the strongest person I know and maybe you don't have to be strong all the time. It's okay to… to feel. But whatever this is about, you'll get through it. I have faith in you and I will always be here for you if you need me."
"Always?"
"Always."
He smiles softly.
"Well, that's a relief to know. I thought I'd lost you."
"Well, you sure tried to..." She tries to make light of the comment, but it pulls uncomfortably at both their hearts, so she succumbs to the truth. "You wouldn't lose me, Harvey. You're too much of a part of me. I wouldn't cut you out even if I could. You know, I don't think you'll remember this, but you once told me you couldn't be you without me and I know you probably didn't–"
"I remember," he cuts her off, firmly. "And I meant it. Why do you think it's being so hard for me to find my ground now that I'm without you?"
Her lips tremble at his words. How can he feel like that, how can he say stuff like that, and not see?
When she finally gets her bearings backs, she says, "Hm. Well. I can't really be me without you either. You changed me and you changed my life and just because I can't work for you anymore… It doesn't mean I don't care or that you're any less important to me. Okay?"
Her eyes are still wide, desperate to make him understand what she's saying, and even though he nods slowly in agreement, he's not sure he honestly does. She's so close to him, her body pressed to his side, her hand right on top of his heart, her chin resting on his shoulder and he just wants more than anything to drop his head in exhaustion and press his lips against hers. He's sure if he did it he would feel alright again. But he thinks it could break her.
"Okay," he says hoarsely, not sure if he's convinced, but feeling better than he's felt in months. Ever since that night at his office watching her go.
.
.
When she does come back to him, it's still because he needs her. But it's different.
It's not because he can't breathe without her, it is because they're about to face the biggest battle of his career to save Mike and they are a team. They are supposed to fight these battles together, because they make each other better and stronger and because he needs her help as much as she wants to be there to help him.
Still, the first morning she's back as Harvey's secretary, as they walk side by side through the hallways of Pearson Specter Litt making arrangements for the battle they're about to enter, their chests swell in relief because their world finally seems right again.
.
.
AN: This one might be angsty but it's wishing the happiest of birthdays to my amazing beta, amazing friend, amazing human, Blue. Love you so much. Thank you for existing in my life and making it so much better. Now let's go re-read her fics to celebrate!
Thank you guys for your incredible love, amazing reviews and all the crazy big smiles you've put on my face. I'm not saying this is coming to an end but I'm also not not saying that.