Chapter 7: Friday 19th November
Harvey arrives at work in a foul mood. Donna, the last fucking person he wants to see, is already in her cubical. He doesn't want her to know how he's feeling, so he mutters a greeting in what he hopes is a normal fashion, and buries himself in work, trying to forget about the trainwreck that was the previous night.
Harvey leaves his office to look for Jessica, and sees Donna standing by the elevators talking animatedly to Thomas Kessler. Were they dating? He remembers the party. They had chemistry, that much was obvious. That bastard had his hands all over her. And she told him the only reason she didn't want it was because of Stephen. But she'd said she'd put Stephen behind her now, so…?
She hadn't told him she was leaving like she normally would, so it has to be a date. Screw work tonight. He isn't going home to his lonely apartment thinking about her like he has done every goddamn night since their trip. Not while she's out screwing Kessler. If she's moving on, he's sure as hell moving on too, right the hell now.
He grabs his coat, strides into the nearest bar, orders the first of what will be many Macallans, and hits on the first attractive young woman he sees. With success. He's handsome and charming and loaded, and it's as easy as it's empty.
Hollowing himself out, he goes through the motions with the woman on autopilot, and after an hour or so they're both pretty drunk and flirting hard. She's 27, an associate at Something and Something, and he thinks her name begins with an S. Or is that just because she reminds him a little of Scottie?
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a woman with red hair. To blot out all thoughts of Donna, Kessler, and whatever the hell they're doing right now, he puts his hands on her (Susie's? Sarah's?) waist, pulls her between his legs and starts to whisper in her ear exactly what he's going to do to her when they get back to his place. She tells him some things back, and starts kissing him.
They'll need to get out of here before it gets indecent. He pulls back, takes in the stranger in front of him and, out of nowhere, he's hit by the realisation that he doesn't want this. At all. He stutters an excuse and runs out, walking home trying to work out what the hell is going on.
He is done with girls in bars, that much is clear. But he can't manage a real relationship with the woman he cares about. Loves. So that means, what? No sex? A life alone? He has no idea where to go from here. He has work. What else?
He had gone home, slept fitfully and now Sean Cahill was coming at him and everything had gone to shit. And it was only 9am.
It's 9pm and Donna is still in the office, trying to finish up. It's been a long and difficult day. She has barely talked to Harvey, but he has made his presence felt, stomping around the office with a face like thunder, losing his temper at the slightest thing. Otherwise known as normal, these days.
He had arrived at the office at his usual time, not late as she expected given what she knew about how the previous evening had been unfolding. Nothing about his clothing or demeanor suggested he'd got lucky the night before. It's like nothing had happened. Which she would usually interpret to mean that nothing had happened. But she lacks her usual confidence in her ability to read him. Does she just want nothing to have happened? Or did it happen, but he just doesn't feel good about it the way he used to, and so the old signs aren't there?
She hasn't eaten since noon, but she doesn't really feel like it. As well as feeling crushing exhaustion, she has little appetite at the moment. She is mildly nauseated if she eats, and also if she doesn't.
She needs to force herself back into a good routine, she thinks. She has to stop spending every spare minute sleeping and stop existing on toast and cereal. It's not healthy. Get back to yoga. Perhaps book a spa day with Rachel.
She has wondered recently whether she needs to see a therapist. Though she's not totally sure she is ready to unpick the mess of her and Harvey. She can guess what the therapist might say, and she doesn't want to hear it. Spa day it is, she thinks, with a sigh.
Before there is any chance she can head home, she needs to gather together some files for Harvey. It's a slightly complicated job, and it's taking her a while. She's in the file room, when Rachel pops in to check on her before heading home.
"Hey Donna, you done? Do you fancy a bottle of wine and a movie at my place? God knows we have earned it," she says with feeling.
"Thanks Rach, but I think I'll take a raincheck. I've got a bit more to do here, and I'm not feeling quite right."
"Not right how?"
"I think I just need to eat. I skipped dinner and I'm feeling a little light headed."
"Donna, that's not good! You don't want to end up in the hospital like I did. Come on, let's go see what we can find in the kitchen. If nothing else there will be those weird green health bars of Louis's."
Donna leaves the files and heads off to the kitchen and finds a packet of Oreos, so she is spared one of Louis's vile green bars. They are not going to form part of her planned health kick. She eats a couple of the cookies, and a glass of water and feels much better.
Satisfied that Donna has perked up, Rachel heads off, exhorting Donna to do the same as soon as she possibly can.
Donna heads back toward her desk and runs into Harvey. He looks tense and angry, spoiling for a fight.
"Where the hell are those goddamn files I asked for?"
"Sorry Harvey, I…"
"I needed them half an hour ago. Can't anyone here just do their goddamn job?"
Normally she wouldn't take this kind of shit from him, but the room is spinning and her legs feel peculiar and as he rants at her she feels them give way, and everything goes dark.
She comes round to find herself lying on Harvey's sofa, Harvey crouched next to her, stroking her hair.
"I… what happened?"
Harvey looks white, and scared, all his belligerence drained away. "I don't know, Donna. I think you fainted. I didn't know what to do, I was about to call an ambulance."
"Can you help me up?"
"Yeah, but take it steady."
"How long was I out?"
"I don't know. Not long. It felt like forever."
"Are you hurting anywhere?"
"I don't think so. I just feel really groggy."
"Good. I caught you before you hit the floor, but I think I grabbed you a bit hard."
He pauses, looking at her with concern.
"I'm so, so sorry. This is all my fault. I'm a dick. I've been working you too hard. I shouldn't have shouted at you."
"No, you shouldn't have."
"Truth is, I've been finding it hard to move on from… you know."
"Yeah, I totally got that vibe when I saw you with Scottie 2.0 last night," she says with heavy sarcasm, unable to help herself.
The color drains from his face again. "You were there?"
She nods.
"I didn't sleep with her, I swear," he rushes out.
"You don't owe me anything, Harvey. I'm just your secretary," she spits out.
"My secretary? Jesus Donna." He looks like he wants to elaborate. But he doesn't. What a surprise, she thinks bitterly.
"I just saw you talking to Thomas, and I thought I should… But when it came down to it, I didn't. I didn't want to. I still..."
"We were just talking. Thomas and I," she interrupts firmly. "I bumped into him by the lifts. But you can't have it all ways, Harvey.."
"Sorry. I know. Like I said. I'm a dick."
"We both agree on that," she says.
But they both know he is forgiven for the girl in the bar at least. She thinks she believes him. The only person he usually outright lies to is himself.
Harvey hands her a glass of water and sits next to her on the couch, wrapping his arm around her. Tonight, the first time since they returned, she can glimpse Vacation Harvey. Her Harvey. She leans her head onto his shoulder, the barriers between them having fallen away, at least for now.
Donna insists she doesn't need the ambulance that Harvey is threatening to call, accusing him of being a worry wart, but she reluctantly agrees to go get checked out at the Emergency Room.
In the waiting area, Donna feels better after the water and another snack, just really exhausted and ready for bed. She feels somewhat fraudulent, being here for what is clearly just a case of stress and exhaustion, but Harvey insisted. He isn't talking much, jiggling his leg and looking around impatiently.
"You can go if you want Harvey. I'll be fine. I'm not sure I even need to be here." She assumes he's anxious to get out of here, back to his case. Or back to his scotch or another girl in another goddamn bar. She knows that last thought is unfair, but she guesses she's still a little mad about last night after all.
"You're not going anywhere, and I'm obviously not leaving you. Where's the goddamn doctor?" Ah. He's stressed because he's worried about her. She's touched, although it seems unnecessary. She's really fine now, physically at least.
"Relax Harvey. I've just been overdoing it a little. I'm sure…"
"Donna Paulsen?" a nurse called.
"OK, see you later. Though like I said, you can…"
"I'll be here."
Donna rolls her eyes and follows the nurse.
"Hi Donna, I'm one of the Emergency Room triage nurses. It says on your admission form that you fainted earlier?"
"Yes, I was at work and suddenly I felt really dizzy and lightheaded and then I blacked out. Only for a few seconds, apparently."
"Has anything like this ever happened before?"
"No, never."
"How have you been lately?"
"Hmm, pretty tired, feeling nauseous on and off. Work has been stressful."
"No headaches?"
"No"
"Is there a chance you could be pregnant?"
"What? No. I'm… I mean I guess… I have an implant."
"When did you have it fitted?"
"I don't know - maybe two and half, three years ago? It'll need replacing soon."
"I'll just pull up your records…"
Donna tries to place which year it went in. Around the time they hired Mike? Before that?
Right. It's actually over four years. We recommend that the implant is replaced after three years, but they're actually usually good for a fair bit longer. Do you have regular periods?"
"Not since I've had the implant."
"Any bleeding since you last had sex."
"Not that I can remember. Like I said, I've been so busy with work…"
"OK, the likelihood is that you've just been overdoing it, but I would like to do a pregnancy test as well as taking your blood pressure and your temperature, and checking your pulse. If all that's clear, we will do a blood test to check for iron levels and a few other things.
After the tests are done, the nurse disappears into a side room, telling Donna she will be back in about five minutes.
Donna stares at the seconds hand ticking its way around the clock, mind racing. She doesn't need to wait for the damn test. She knows now with complete certainty that she is pregnant.
How could she be so stupid, she berates herself. She's Donna, how could she have messed up her contraception?
And how could she not have known she was pregnant? It's not just the exhaustion and the nausea. Her dresses have been a little snug around her chest and middle. Her boobs have been sore. In fact they'd felt like they were full of shards of broken glass, and when she'd taken her bra off the other night she'd gasped in pain.
Shit. Fear grips her. What if it's Stephen's? The only alternative is Harvey, which would bring its own set of problems. But please God, she thinks, let it be Harvey's.
The nurse returns. She sits down.
"Donna, I have the test results here, and you are definitely pregnant. That explains your recent symptoms, and means that they are nothing to worry about."
Donna nods, feeling numb.
"However, you'll really need to ease back on overtime at work and look after yourself. No alcohol, limit caffeine. And it's important that you start taking a prenatal vitamin with folic acid.
Donna barely takes any of this in, one thought beating at her brain.
"How...how pregnant am I?"
"Call this number and they'll book you in for a scan over the next week or so. Since we don't know the date of your last menstrual period, they can date the pregnancy by measuring the fetus."
"There's no other way to tell?"
You're not showing, so I would say the likelihood is no more than three months, but you can't be sure without the scan That'll be able to give you a pretty accurate estimate though, to within about five days."
She feels her eyes fill with tears.
"Donna, are you ok? Is there someone here who can support you?"
Her cheeks flame red. She prides herself on having her shit together. She is a professional woman of almost 40. And look at her now: a total mess.
"No, I mean yes - Harvey is here. He's probably the baby's father. But there's a chance that it's… the other possibility is not a good guy. But it won't be him unless I'm really pregnant. It ended over four months ago."
She is so embarrassed, but the nurse is brisk and matter of fact.
"OK, here's what I'm going to do. I'm going to go down to the maternity department myself and see how quickly they can fit you in. Sit tight. We'll get you an answer as soon as possible. Do you want me to call Harvey in?"
She doesn't know what to say, so she says OK.
Harvey bursts in, looking white and strained. "Everything ok?"
"I guess."
"You guess? Donna -"
She picks at her fingers, her mind running at lightning speed through all the possible ways she can break the news. All his potential reactions. She concludes that there's no way to break it gently. She's just going to have to come out with it.
"I'm pregnant."
"You're pregnant?" he says in disbelief.
"How did…?" She gives him a withering look.
"Shit Don. I just… Is it…?"
She feels tears prick her eyes. "Very probably it is. Yours I mean. But I can't be sure." Her voice breaks, and the tears come. She just wants a hug, to hear that it will all be ok. But he stands there, rigid.
"The nurse has gone to book me in for a scan. They can date the pregnancy within about five days. So we won't need a DNA test or anything. And I'm not showing yet, which is why I think it's...ok."
"OK," she sees him swallow, and drop heavily into a chair.
They sit there in awkward silence.
The clock's ticking is too loud.
It's too hot.
Her dress feels uncomfortable across her middle (how did she not know?).
She looks at Harvey, but he's staring into space.
Shit.
Her mouth feels dry.
Her heart is racing. The last thing she needs is another panic attack. She focuses on breathing. In. And out.
The nurse returns.
"Good news, Donna. They had a cancellation and I've got you booked in for 9am tomorrow. I'll just get the paperwork together, then you can be on your way."
The nurse smiles, and gives her arm an encouraging squeeze as she leaves, no doubt having taken in the silence, the distance between the two of them. Donna turns her head to hide the tears threatening to spill, the nurse's kindness too much to bear.
Dazed and numb, Donna and Harvey exit the hospital, where Ray is waiting. They ride home in silence.
Ray stops at Donna's, and Harvey gets out too, and sends Ray home for the night.
The awkward silence continues through the elevator ride and until Donna lets them into her apartment and closes the door.
"Donna - "
She shuts him down. "I don't think we should talk tonight Harvey. Let's let it sink in."
"OK. Do you need food, or do you just want to get to bed?" He sounds hesitant, a little flat, too polite.
"Just some toast maybe. It's all I've been able to stomach lately. I guess now I know why," she says, as much to herself as to him."
"OK. Why don't you get changed and I'll sort out the toast?"
She returns, in comfortable pyjamas.
"Here you go." He sets the toast on the table, and stands there hovering over her while she eats, not sure what to do.
"Have you eaten anything?"
"Nah, not hungry. Donna?"
"Yes?"
"Can I stay tonight? I don't want to leave you. I can take the couch."
She nods. "You can stay, but just come to bed, Harvey. I don't think we can make things any more complicated than they already are. And I really don't want to be alone tonight either."
She finds him a spare toothbrush and an oversized t shirt, they get into bed, on separate sides, and she switches off the light.
After a while, he rolls on to his side so he's facing her in the dark, reaches out and grasps the tips of her fingers with his.
To her amazement, she quickly hears his breathing steady and deepen, and she assumes he's fallen asleep.
Donna feels wide awake despite her exhaustion, and reaches over to look at her phone. She could really use someone other than Harvey to talk to, but it's after midnight now, and Rachel hasn't been online for a while, so she doesn't want to message her. She has been working like crazy with law school and the Logan Sanders case, and she has barely been holding it together.
Her mind is whirring. How had she lost track of time with the implant when she's usually so organised? Perhaps it hadn't seemed so important as it was only ever really back up: she has always, always used condoms too. Other than with Harvey, both times.
She trusted him, knew he was clean - she scheduled his health screenings after all. But it wasn't really that that made it different with him. She remembers an almost animal need to feel him inside her without a single barrier, the thrill of his pulsing molten heat, the sense that after all this time, after longing for each other, denying it for weeks, and months, and years, they were finally one.
Renewed desire for the man sleeping next to her floods through her just thinking about it. Perhaps biology took over and made them the family they were always meant to be, if only they'd stop overthinking it?
She wonders whether he will blame her, when he knows that her error put them both in this situation. She'll have to tell him - he doesn't react well to her keeping things from him. He'll ask, when he's not so stunned. She'd said they were covered.
She has no idea what to expect from him. They were being very polite to each other, in her apartment tonight. And felt a thousand miles apart. She knows that he both does and doesn't want this, a family life. She has faith that he can do it, be a good dad, a good partner. But will he ever have faith in himself?
But she's forgetting something. What if it IS Stephen's? She would surely be showing by now…
She carefully, reluctantly unlinks her fingers from Harvey's, rolls over and grabs her phone, squinting at the screen's harsh glow. Looking at her calendar and searching her memory, she works out she would be 12 weeks if it's Harvey's, and 18 weeks if it's Stephen's.
She searches for 18 week bumps and scrolls through the images returned. Most people were showing by then, but a few looked pretty flat. And yoga and pilates means she has strong core muscles, which could be holding everything in. Shit.
She pushes her phone away and turns over. Could she go ahead with the pregnancy if it's Stephen's? She feels revulsion at the thought of being connected to him forever. She would have to tell him, wouldn't she, for the baby's sake? Or would the baby be better off not knowing it's father if it's father is a murderer? She can't have that man back in her life, be connected to him forever, she can't. But it's her baby too, and probably her only shot at motherhood.
She grabs her phone again and searches for just how well condoms work. She had used them scrupulously with Stephen. 98 percent fails to give her the reassurance she wants, and she continues to toss and turn, still she eventually falls asleep around 4am.
She doesn't wake till it's light the next morning, and finds Harvey gone.