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Long Walk Home
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Lucy's birthday was three days ago. Her first. Months had passed since Donna had last seen the baby in person, but thanks to Louis' insistence of sending his closest friends a regular update, Donna knew the girl was weeks away from walking, had blond curls and chubby cheeks, like her dad.
September 23rd. Lucy's first birthday. Louis and Sheila's first wedding anniversary. Her first wedding anniversary. The whole year seemed to have passed in a blur, and then again, so much had changed since, the day could have taken place eons ago.
Her eyes drifted to the wrapped toy sticking out of her purse—a teddy bear she had gotten at the airport while trying to kill time. Unfortunately, it was probably way past Lucy's bedtime by now, so she'd have to wait until morning to present the gift.
As she walked up to the door, the porch light sprang to life. Here we go, she thought. She rang the doorbell and straightened her shoulders, listening for footsteps on the other side. Then she heard some shuffling and inhaled deeply.
Upon finding Donna on his doorstep, a massive grin captured Louis' face as he exclaimed what a surprise it was to see her, and then his gigantic body engulfed her in a bear hug that pressed all air from her lungs. When she eventually tapped his back to indicate a need for oxygen, Louis released his grip. And eagerly glanced from her suitcase over her shoulder.
"Where's Harvey?" he asked.
"Can I come in?" she replied innocently.
"Of course. Is he parking the car?"
Donna inhaled deeply. "He's not coming."
Louis frowned. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," she lied. "Everything is fine."
They stepped into the living room, and Donna lowered herself on the sofa, her frame hunched forward. With the initial surprise wearing off, Louis studied her closely and found her complexion to be pale, her eyes darker than he'd seen before, and her too slim posture was unfitting for the mighty woman he knew and loved.
"What happened? What did Harvey do?" Louis asked.
"Nothing, Louis. We're fine."
"No. I know you. Something else is going on."
"It's okay, Louis. My dad hasn't been feeling well lately, so I thought it would make sense for me to be near him, in case my mom needs help." In truth, her father had had a minor cardiac incident that required little more than medication and regular checkups. But the details were irrelevant, she told herself.
"Donna, why isn't Harvey with you?"
"Because…" I didn't want him to come. "He's busy. He has a lot on his plate with his latest case. He and Mike are taking on Morgan Stanley."
"And he left you to deal with your family by yourself? That doesn't sound like Harvey."
Donna shook her head. "It's fine, Louis."
Louis' scrutinizing stare held fast, but the noise of the front door opening interrupted his focus, and Donna sighed with relief. A minute later, Sheila walked in, surprise widening her eyes at the sight of her presence.
"Donna!" Moving to embrace her friend, Sheila said, "I didn't know you were coming." She glanced at her husband, who shrugged his shoulders, looking grim. "How have you been?"
"Donna and Harvey are separated."
"Louis!" Donna yelped. "We are not separated." Indignantly, she diverted her attention to Sheila. "I'm here to take care of my dad." The half-lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she swallowed the pungency, unprepared to disclose the details surrounding the current state of her marriage.
"But Harvey's not here?" Sheila asked in a composed tone.
"No, he's not," Donna replied. "He has a major case he's working on, and it didn't make sense for him to take leave in the middle of it."
"But he'll be here once he's done?" Sheila inquired with an even voice.
"I think so." Donna paused. "I don't know."
"Goddammit!" Louis jumped to his feet. "I'm going to call him right now."
"No, Louis, you're not. He chose not to be here. So, we all have to respect that decision," Donna said, her lower lip trembling as her version of events landed in the room, and deep in her soul.
Harvey never chose to stay in Seattle. She decided to leave without asking him to join her. Painting him as the bad guy was unfair, but she would have crumbled under their inquest. She'd barely held things together as they were. Because what if her decision to come back to New York meant the end of her marriage?
"I'll make up the guest bedroom," Sheila said.
Donna forced a smile. "Thanks, Sheila."
Three hours later, Donna stared at the ceiling through a haze of tears, feeling the stream land on her pillow, trickle into her ear. She didn't care. There would be no way of stopping the flood.
Restless, she shoved the duvet aside and went to the window, then glanced up at the familiar sky.
Being back in New York felt good, but part of her remained in Seattle. A large part. The essential part.
However, no matter the mental gymnastics she exercised, returning to Seattle was not an option. She knew that much. So then what? Did she ask Harvey to move back to the East Coast? Could she? Would he resent her? Probably.
After six months, following the devastating realization that the size of the new firm had reduced her job to that of an elevated HR director — far below her pay grade — Donna had made the difficult decision to leave her position. And only one thing could fill the void, the one dream she'd shelved for decades: Acting. But Seattle was no New York. Sure, the acting scene was alive, but getting her foot in the door was like memorizing Macbeth overnight. The opportunities were few and far between, and she had auditioned for months for the limited available plays, with nothing to show for her efforts. Meanwhile, she kept telling herself, and Harvey, that an opportunity would present itself soon. But without her network of people and with her Broadway resume abhorrently thin, she came to a second devastating conclusion: There was no work for her in Seattle. Worse, she had spent an entire spring wearing her winter clothes, with no friends to gossip with during daytime, and not much else to do but attend yoga classes every day and acting classes twice a week.
Less of a surprise, but with no less devastating consequences, the final revelation had presented itself in a simple thought while in Downward Dog: She hated Seattle.
But Harvey loved it. He loved working with Mike again. Loved having to claw his way up, prove he really was as good as he claimed he was. She couldn't take that joy away. She'd witnessed how he'd struggled under Faye. Even with Zane at the helm, after Mike and Rachel left, Harvey never fully regained that spark she'd nurtured from the moment they had met; that zest, that blind ambition to get to the top and be the best. Recently, that energy, with boyish excitement, had returned. While she had been growing increasingly miserable — and lonely. She missed her friends and the sense of family she had cultivated at the old firm.
And she longed for that connection again. For feeling contentment, accomplishment. Because her unhappiness had turned her into a snappy, ungrateful spouse. Especially the long weeks leading up to her departure. At one point, she'd laid into her husband for working late, accusing him of being married to his job instead of her. The words she had spouted his way had come from someone she didn't recognize, because none of her grievances conveyed how she truly felt. And he'd rightfully scolded her for her behavior, questioning her support for him. But her own dejection had prevented her from giving in and telling the truth. To make matters worse, the late nights had skyrocketed, and the less she'd seen of him, the more their divide had expanded. She couldn't even remember the last time they had had sex, not counting the one drunken attempt on their anniversary. And then her tenant in New York — thank god for hanging on to her old place — had given notice. And the decision to get on a plane had become ridiculously easy.
Her departure date had been crucial, too: Two days before Harvey's case went to trial. He wouldn't be able to follow her immediately. At least, she didn't expect him to. And that broke her heart further.
Yet, staring out the guest bedroom window, no amount of eastern stars could relieve the heartache nestled deep inside her. Worse, she was now wholly torn.
"Have you talked to her?" Mike asked, glancing across the dozens of papers strewn all over his desk.
Harvey shook his head, peering into his tumbler and emptying the remains in a single gulp.
"It's been two days, Harvey. How long are you going to ignore her?"
"Me? I'm not the one who left!" For days, he'd been trying to figure out why she would abandon him, out of the blue. They had said forever. Until death did them part, goddammit! He even entertained the idea that there might be someone else, because why else would she leave him? Because that was what happening, right? She was leaving him. Why else would she book a one-way ticket?
As his anxiety rose, Harvey tried to focus on his breathing.
"I know, I know. But you know how stubborn she can be."
"Yeah, well…"
"And you're not exactly the most relenting guy, either. But if you both dig your heels in, you will never work this out."
"Maybe there's nothing to work out, Mike. She's gone." He looked at the paperwork still to be done. "We should get back to the case."
Ignoring his friend's attempt to end the conversation, Mike said, "Don't say that."
"Why not? She went to New York without asking me to go with her. What am I supposed to think? She clearly wants to be away from me." Tears sprung in his eyes, and the last thing he wanted was to break down in front of Mike, but he was fighting a losing battle.
"That's not true. You know she struggled to find her footing here. You can't expect her to sit around the house waiting for you to get home."
A wave of guilt shrouded in failure washed over Harvey. He should have known how big her desire to leave had been, but absorbed by his job, he did what he had done for over a decade: He'd put his own needs before hers, falling back into old habits.
"She loves you. And you love her. You guys will get through this. But, Harvey, someone has to take the first step."
Harvey sighed. He knew Mike was right, but what if he made that call and she told him that it was over? That they were over? He couldn't begin to imagine dealing with the possibility. So, he ignored the situation. Freeze. Goddamn coward. He was a fighter. In the ring, in the courtroom, but when it came to relationships, he froze. Even years of therapy hadn't fixed that one. Perhaps not talking to Donna would drive him crazy enough to act. For now, he needed to focus on work to maintain his sanity.
When Donna's phone lit up, showing a picture of her and Harvey dancing at Mike and Rachel's wedding and her husband's name flashing at the top of her screen, her heart started racing, her breath hitched.
"Hey."
"Hey."
His timbre warmed her insides as tears sprang to her eyes.
"I wasn't sure you'd answer," he said, uncertainty torturing his voice. But he was so glad she had; glad he had finally grown a pair and called. Because, as it turned out, not talking to her drove him insane faster than Mike's continuous badgering.
A searing silence ensued between them.
"Donna, what's go—"
"I'm staying at Louis'—"
They said simultaneously, inviting another stretch of no communication to follow.
When the quiet became unbearable, Harvey spoke up. "What's going on, Donna?"
"It's nothing, I just…" she mumbled, unable to finish her sentence. She didn't know what to say without opening herself up to an emotional minefield she had no way of navigating.
"I don't like this. I don't understand why you're shutting me out."
Neither did she. Instinct? Self-preservation? Not wanting to force him to leave a job he loved? Shame for having failed? All of the above? If anything, she'd never had any issue putting him first, always being his biggest cheerleader. The role sure felt familiar when their West Coast life dictated she dust off the pompoms. But cheering on her boss was not the same as cheering on her husband, and perhaps she had downplayed how depressed she'd been in Seattle, but he'd never really asked, either, too consumed with carving out his space at Mike's firm and believing her when she told him everything was fine.
What she hated most was that he was happy at his job without her. For the first time in over fifteen years, they weren't working under the same roof. They weren't even in the same profession. And still he thrived. And she wondered if he'd ever needed her at all.
Being Harvey's wife had been a dream she had never dared to dream. However, now she didn't see a future in which they could both be together and be happy.
More than anything, the fear of not having him in her life far outweighed whether or not their marriage survived. From the moment she'd shaken his hand, a tectonic collision had shifted their worlds; there had been a connection unlike any she had experienced before; a bond nearly unbreakable. Harvey had said so himself. They were going to be together forever. But what if life had other plans?
As friends, they'd hit rocky patches before, but they had always recovered. Could they ever just be friends again? Should Harvey decide to remain in Seattle, perhaps, at some point, she could start dating other men, and he could see other wo— The thought made her shudder. He was hers.
He'd once called her 'his compass', but she had never felt more lost.
Harvey's unsteady voice stirred her thoughts.
"How long are you staying?" he asked.
"Harvey…"
"Donna, please just come home."
Her throat constricted. "I am home, Harvey."
"So what? That's it?" She found a home that wasn't with him? What did that mean and how could he make the stabbing pain in his chest stop?
"No. I don't know. I just need some time. Please give me that."
"Donna…" he pleaded.
"I love you, Harvey," she said, then ended the call before she felt compelled to end his misery by ignoring her own.
Harvey stared at the dark screen of his phone. I love you, Harvey. For some reason, that had sounded more like a goodbye than an expression of her feelings. Like I'm going to New York for a while. Please stay and finish your case.
When she'd announced her plans, he'd sat there, stunned into silence. He didn't understand why she was leaving, and she hadn't explained. What stung worse was the lack of an invitation to accompany her. Not that he would have known how to leave so close to starting a huge trial.
He was losing her. He felt it in every aching bone in his body. But what could he do? Opening statements had been read that morning. He was already neck-deep in paperwork, prep, pulling all-nighters for weeks. Not a job he could pawn off on just any lawyer. Besides, winning this case would solidify his status. He'd finally be rid of the reputation of being a blowhard with several attempted disbarments from the New York State Bar on his record. Although, judging by his increasing payload, all the partners were quite content with his efforts.
But no matter how well he was regarded, he loathed working without her. He'd somehow managed and continued to manage — successfully — on his own. The first time he'd needed her advice, he had called her at home. And she'd gladly told him what to do. The instructions weren't any he hadn't thought of himself, yet hearing her confirm them propelled him to act. This went on for a while until, one day, she didn't answer the phone. And he panicked. The clock was ticking. He needed his sounding board. And after leaving three frantic voicemails, he finally resorted to exorcising his own solution, trying to channel her energy. And his approach had worked. Slowly but surely, he weaned off her guidance, coming home proud with stories of how he'd put out the latest inferno and how the partners had lauded his praises.
Although she never stopped being supportive, he promised himself he would no longer burden her with work-related things, and separating his work and personal life became a new goal. And he had done well, he thought. In turn, Donna suggested they do something engaging every weekend. Her desire to spend time together had been fun at first, but her need had grown increasingly obsessive. Looking back now, he realized her behavior was a sign of how disconnected they had become and how unhappy she'd been. She had known, come Monday, he would return to killing it at work, and she'd be doing god knows what.
Their weekend trips had dwindled, too, due to his schedule demanding he worked day and night to get his case off the ground. And she hadn't said anything on those Saturday or Sunday afternoons, merely buried herself in a book or met Rachel for lunch — on the rare occasions she and Mike hadn't also been swamped. Not that she'd complained. But she had withdrawn. Not just emotionally. Physically, too. Citing headaches whenever he made an advance and no longer initiating any form of intimacy beyond a kiss hello or goodbye. He'd stopped trying — not counting last week when they had celebrated their first wedding anniversary. By then, he'd been so out of practice while also stressed from work, the whiskey they'd drunk had hit like a sledgehammer. And after he'd made love to her, he'd fallen asleep immediately after. Not exactly romantic. Come morning, she'd revealed her travel plans that evidently didn't include him. And here he was. Alone in a beautiful, big house that sat like an ill-fitted suit.
Time. She needed time. What the hell did that mean? And how long was 'time'? A day, a week? Forever?
Harvey threw the phone beside him on the couch and sighed.
Goddammit.
Only in her second week back in The Big Apple and Donna had already landed her first audition. The role of Aunt Stephanie Crawford in To Kill a Mockingbird. Ironic how her next play might be about a lawyer, she thought, when leaving the theater. The director had seemed pleased with her performance, but she wasn't holding her breath. There were at least thirty other — more experienced — actresses up for the part. But the possibility invigorated her passion. This was what she had always wanted. Plus, she had three more auditions lined up in the coming days. More than she'd had in two months in Seattle, and if that didn't reaffirm that her decision to return had been the right one, nothing would.
Around the corner was a bar where she spotted some of the other actors that had also auditioned, and she walked in, eyeing them with confidence. A few of them she'd recognized from her earlier outings into the trade, and she was eager to connect with familiar faces.
About to order a drink, a voice said, "Well, if it isn't Donna Paulsen."
When she turned to meet the recognizable tenor, enjoyment crept into the lines around his eyes as they lit up.
Thomas.
Her lips parted, about to correct him for using the wrong last name. She'd gotten so used to hearing Specter that her maiden name now sounded foreign to her ears. Although she hardly recognized the woman he mentioned, her married name resonated too much with heartbreak. So, she swallowed her correction. "Thomas. It's good to see you. How have you been?"
"Can I buy you a drink?" he asked cheerfully.
"Sure," she said, taking a seat at the nearest bar stool.
Thomas ordered them both a glass of Chianti and sat down next to her. "What brings you to New York? I heard you moved to Seattle."
"I uhm, well, we did."
A flicker of unease pulsed over his features, but he wrestled his emotions under control.
"Right. You and Harvey." He sneaked a glance at her left hand, but only the ghost of a ring was visible in the tan-lines of her ring finger.
Donna caught his intrigue and tore her gaze away, promptly hiding her palm in her lap.
Failing to hide his amusement at the adorable blush that crept into her cheeks, he smiled into his glass as he took a gulp. He swallowed the wine that suddenly tasted better, and with a quick lift of his chin, darted his eyes from her clasped hands to her face. "So, what happened?"
Lord, he was still as handsome as she remembered, she thought. And without warning, her memory transported her to their first date, the ease with which they had connected. To top it off, a movie reel titled What Could Have Been started playing in her mind.
The only reason her and Thomas' relationship had stranded had been because of Harvey. But she had never gotten to the point where he ceased being a great match. Worse, she had actually seen a future with Thomas. And he still lived in New York, her traitorous conscience added.
Besides his sense of humor, talking to him had always come as effortlessly as breathing, one of the many reasons she had fallen for him. And before long, she found herself confiding in him, relaying the events that had led up to her being back in The City.
"Are you separated?" he finally asked.
"No. I don't know. We haven't talked much."
Remembering how his relationship with Donna had ended, not talking seemed like a pretty powerful indicator of an impending end. But it wasn't his place to comment. His interests were selfish. Moreover, he'd only be getting his hopes up if she told him she was single again. Donna Paulsen sure had left a mark, and he would take her back in a heartbeat. If it hadn't been for her job, who knew where they would have been as a couple. Married? Starting a family? And here she was. She was no longer involved with the legal profession, and her husband might be on his way out the door. Perhaps the timing was right; they actually stood a chance now.
"Listen, Thomas, it's getting late. I should go."
"Where are you staying?"
"With Louis. For now. I will go back to my old place in a few days," she said, gathering her purse and heading towards the exit.
Her old place. Plenty of memories created there had ingrained themselves into his being, and a need to revisit them surfaced, unmistakable in its urgency. "Wait." He wrapped his palm around her elbow. "Can I see you again?"
Donna slowly turned. The contact awakened a dormant longing for connection, to be seen and touched. And desired. His tall frame hovered over her, generating a magnetic pull she had naturally felt whenever they'd been together, enveloping her in a cloak of comfort she didn't want to resist.
She watched his Adam's apple move, his eyes hooded, fraught with desire. He wanted her, and all she had to do was say yes. Or tug him forward by his tie. Which she did. And then she had no time to regret her decision, because his mouth forcefully crashed over her with an intensity she'd missed in her marriage, and the force was all-consuming.
His tongue found hers easily, hungrily, and he pulled her body closer. So close, she felt his growing arousal brush against her abdomen.
As if struck by lightning, she pushed him away — a vision of Harvey finding out restraining her from making a mistake she was sure would be a noose around her marriage. "I'm sorry, Thomas. I can't."
He didn't say anything, let his mournful expression speak for him as she left the bar.
Harvey paced up and down Louis' living room. The case against Morgan Stanley was now in the jury's hands, and as soon as closing statements had been delivered, he had caught the first flight out.
When he'd arrived at Louis' at around 6pm, the nanny — he had already forgotten her name — had answered the door. He had introduced himself, and the young woman's face had lit up like a Christmas tree, as if he were some sort of celebrity. But besides her and Lucy, the house had been empty. She also didn't know where Donna was or when she was coming back. But with a heavy French accent, she'd told him he could wait there. And so he did.
He had thought of texting Donna, to let her know he was in town. But lately their exchanges had felt forced, cordial, and he preferred to speak to her face-to-face. So he had pulled out his laptop, asked for the Wi-Fi password, and proceeded to work. But every noise outside had drawn his attention, making it impossible for him to read the appellate brief Mike had sent him regarding their previous case. He'd been reading the same sentence for about half an hour and he still had no idea what opposing counsel's argument was. So he'd given up after thirty useless minutes. Unfortunately, waiting without any form of distraction meant his mind went on a little 'let's-see-how-this-can-go' tour, and conjured a myriad of ways for their encounter to play out.
None of the scenarios allowed for much hope.
At some point, mid-hypothetical scenario, the front door opened and closed and Donna sauntered into the hallway, staring at her phone. He jumped to his feet. When she sensed his presence, she froze, eyes wide, lips parted. As if she'd seen a ghost. He wanted to run to her, hug her, kiss the living daylights out of her. But then she spoke as if he were an intruder.
"What are you doing here?"
"You honestly thought I wouldn't come?" he said, stunned and more than a little hurt.
No. Yes. She wasn't sure what she had expected.
She carefully stepped into the living room and slipped her phone onto the coffee table, then faced him.
Ever since they had gotten together, for Harvey, the biggest challenge had been unlearning years of conditioning in which touching was off-limits. Because, for the longest time, touching could lead to more and because she'd been clear about her boundaries, he'd stuck to the occasional hug. Or a brush of their shoulders. But rewiring his brain to accept that it was okay to touch — it was even desired — had cost him little effort. Until now. He had no clue whether she would welcome any physical contact, and his behavior defaulted to keeping his distance. No matter how much it shredded his soul in two.
But when she strode forward and threw her arms around him, all his anxiety melted away under the warmth of her embrace.
Feeling his body mold into her frame, she wondered why she'd ever left. But before she could get lost in his arms, the memory of her audition, running into Thomas, the kiss, everything, pummeled into her.
Startled, she pushed herself out of his hold.
The devastation etched into his features was too much to bear, so she stepped back.
"I'm sorry," she said, lowering herself onto the couch.
She covered her face with her hands, and unable to tear his gaze away, Harvey's heart suddenly stopped. Her ring. Or lack thereof. She'd taken it off, but why?
"Donna." He waited, unsure he could voice the question lodged in his throat.
She looked up and found him staring at her hand. Guilt gripped her as she grasped her own palm, once again trying to obscure her stupid decision.
"I, uhm… I took it off for the audition," she stammered. "I didn't want to run into someone who might have known about us, because they would have asked questions."
"Right, so it's better to show them you're not married?" Suddenly agitated, he stalked across the room.
"Harvey, please. Let me explain."
"What is there to explain? You took off your wedding ring." His eyes clouded with tears. "How would you feel if I had done that?"
Donna shrank into herself. "I'd feel horrible." Not unlike her current state of mind. If she could rewind her day, she'd never remove her ring. But there wasn't anything she could do about that now. And he was here, and they had to talk, and she had no idea where to start. "Listen, do you want a drink?"
He nodded. Louis' liquor cabinet was in the dining room across the entry hall, and as Donna left to gather their drinks, Harvey sat on the edge of the couch, his body itching with unease.
Her phone beeped. Absentmindedly, he glanced at the screen. He had no intention of prying, especially when his brain registered what he was reading, and he immediately wished he'd never looked in the first place.
A few moments later, Donna walked in. And as soon as she entered the living room, her gaze landed on him, clutching her phone. He wanted to crush the damn thing to pieces. She appeared so goddamn innocent, and yet…
He threw the device on the table with such force, the sound ricocheted between them. "Well, you don't waste any time, do you? You've been here two weeks and you're back with Kessler?!" he scowled at her, fury burning in his eyes.
"What? No!" She put the glasses down and reached for her phone to figure out what had him so upset. On the screen was a text notification from Thomas. I'm sorry about tonight. Call me? X
"So, that's why you left. To be with him." No wonder she took off her ring, he thought, as anxiety gripped his wavering resolve. She was leaving him for someone else, and the notion had his knees buckle, but rigid rage kept him upright.
"No, Harvey, I ran into him after my audition. We had one drink, that's all."
Harvey paced angrily, trying to outrun his crippling nerves. "I don't believe you."
"I'm not having an affair!"
"Then why did you come here, huh?" he asked, flinging his hands in the air and gesturing at the room. "Help me understand this, Donna, because I thought we were happy, but you've been distant lately, and now you won't even talk to me."
"I wasn't happy, Harvey," she said, shaking her head. "You were. And for a while I told myself I could be, too. But I can't sit on the sidelines and watch you succeed and not have something that fulfills me."
"I get that, Donna, but why didn't you say anything? You just left."
"What was I supposed to say? 'Sorry, but you have to quit because I don't like Seattle'?"
"For starters, it would have been nice to know."
It would also have been nice if you'd noticed, she thought, looking at her feet. "And then what?"
"I don't know, Donna. We could have found a solution. Together. But you ran away before giving me a chance to fix it."
"Fix what? Living in Seattle? Because that's the main issue here."
"Is it?"
She fell silent. Sure, the location was a massive problem, but it wasn't the only one. Feeling a headache work its way into her skull, she sat down.
Harvey followed her lead and lowered himself beside her, dread washing over him.
Donna couldn't meet his eyes when she muttered, "I don't know who I am anymore without you. And that terrifies me."
He didn't know how to respond. In a perfect world, she wouldn't need to know because they would be together. Until death did them apart. Preferably at the same time, so neither of them would have to experience what life was like alone. But nothing about their situation was perfect.
"Do you still love me?" he asked.
"Of course I do."
He reached forward, took her palm in his hands. "I love you, too, Donna. We will find a way, but you can't shut down like this."
"I was only trying to protect you."
He frowned. "How?"
"You love your job, Harvey. You love working with Mike. You love living there. I didn't want to make you choose."
"Donna. I do love all the things you mentioned, but the only reason I do is because you're there, too."
As she peered into his forgiven eyes, relief flooded her soul. Gently, she brought their hands to her lips, smiling brightly as hope swept inside her chest.
Her radiance seeped into his palm, spreading further through his system until his heart eased into the sensation. The road ahead would undoubtedly be rocky, but as with everything, Harvey felt empowered knowing she was there beside him. And apparently, she needed his guidance as much as he needed hers.
He liked that idea. What he didn't like was the reality she'd met up with her ex-boyfriend tonight, and before he could stop himself, he heard himself ask, "So, nothing happened between you and Kessler?"
"Nothing," she blurted, diverting her gaze.
She chewed her lip, the lie weighing heavy on her heart. The fragile state of their relationship might prove incapable of withstanding the truth, but going forward, she had to be honest. Harvey deserved that much. She gazed at their entwined hands. "We kissed. But it didn't mean anything. I swear," she added quickly.
Harvey jerked himself free from her grip, as if she were radioactive and he was short an antidote. She'd taken off her ring. His grandmother's ring. And while ringless, she'd been seducing Thomas fucking Kessler. His blood started to boil, and the ferocity propelled him off the couch. "I can't believe you. You took off your ring and then made out with your ex?!"
"Harvey, I know how it looks, but please calm down."
"No, Donna, I'm not gonna calm down. We took a goddamn vow. I thought that actually meant something. At least I thought you, of all people" — his voice broke — "would never do that to me."
Tears welled in his eyes as he choked on a lump in his throat. Akin to being sliced open, he felt raw, betrayed, and he was that boy again who had to grow up too fast because his mother had forced him to protect her when she should have been the one protecting him.
"Harvey, please… I'm so sorry. I made a mistake. I never meant to hurt you," she pleaded, blinking back tears as she reached for him, like a child reaching for the balloon they had unintentionally let go of, knowing it was too late, her marriage surrendered to the wind.
"Yeah, well, you failed," he spat, eluding her grasp.
Keeping his emotions in check, Harvey stormed out of the room with a deep desire to punch something, anything. But he was at Louis' house, and he had to contain his anger, at least until he crossed the threshold. When the front door behind him flung shut, the glass panels rattling frightfully, he let out a primal howl he was sure would alert the neighbors.
The slamming of a car door had Harvey swivel his head towards a vehicle in the driveway. Great.
Louis was rounding the car, getting the door for Sheila, and the pair proceeded to walk up to the house.
"Harvey. Did you just get here?" Louis asked, a deep frown burrowing into his forehead. He was excited to see his friend, but Harvey looked downright ghostly.
"No. And I'm leaving, Louis. Hi, Sheila," he said.
She nodded in acknowledgement before unlocking the front door and disappearing inside while Harvey marched past the Mercedes. Or attempted to before Louis stopped him.
"Hold on. Is Donna here?"
"Yes, she is."
"Then you're not going anywhere."
"Excuse me?" The last thing Harvey needed was Louis' meddling. He had shit to process and decisions to make, for god sakes.
"You heard me." Like a traffic cop, Louis pointed at the front door. "Right now. Inside."
Thinking Louis was being sarcastic — because surely, he couldn't be serious! — Harvey snorted. "Louis, you're not my boss anymore."
"No I'm not. I'm your friend. And I am Donna's. And I can tell you are both miserable and too stubborn for your own good. So, you're gonna work everything out tonight." No longer phased in the eyes of the man he once considered equal to God, Louis stood his ground.
Harvey sighed. Lacking the energy to put up a fight, knowing how unrelenting his former managing partner could be.
"Great. Now get your ass in there," he commanded. "We have work to do."
They found Donna, red eyed, on the sofa, her face marred by surprise when she spotted Harvey following behind Louis.
"Where is Sheila," Louis asked.
"Relieving the nanny," she stammered.
"Louis. I'm gonna go," Harvey said from over the man's shoulder, unsure he could stand to be in the same room as Donna.
"The hell you are. Neither one of you is going anywhere until you've talked. Now, I'm not saying you have to do it in front of me, but you won't leave this house until you have worked your shit out. Is that clear?"
"Louis—"
"Louis—"
They both said in unison.
"Don't 'Louis' me. Talk. What's going on with you two?"
An icy silence stretched between them.
Harvey glanced at Donna, who held his gaze, looking for a sanctuary he wasn't ready to offer. His mother had begged him to stay silent because her marriage had been on the line, but now his own marriage hung in the balance, and he sure as hell would not protect his wife's lie, so he blurted out, "For starters, she was with Thomas Kessler tonight."
Surprised, Louis asked, "Is that true?"
"No!" Donna exclaimed. "Yes. We met by accident. We hadn't spoken since… I don't know. When he decided to drop our firm. Right after you and I got together," she said to Harvey. "Running into him was just a coincidence."
"But you kissed him!"
Louis looked between them. "Donna?"
She hung her head. "He kissed me. But only because he thought Harvey and I were separated."
"Why in the world would he think that?!" Louis demanded incredulously.
"Because I took off my ring," she mumbled, flashing her empty ring finger. "It was only for an audition. I didn't mean anything by it."
"So, there's nothing going on between you and Thomas?" Louis asked.
"No, nothing!"
"Great. What else do we need to know?"
"Louis, I'm tired," Donna said, rubbing her temples and trying to ignore the relentless hammering inside her brain.
"Fine. If you don't want to do it now, you can do it after dinner. Harvey, you're staying here tonight. In Donna's room."
"Louis!"
"I won't hear it," Louis stated.
"I'm gonna go up and tuck my daughter in, and when I return, we'll have dinner. All of us."
Then he disappeared, and with him, the glue that had held Harvey's unraveling union with Donna together disbanded. And in no way capable of mending — or even willing to mend — what was broken, he turned around, ready to leave.
"Wait. Stay," she said, following him into the hallway.
Her voice was soft, inviting, giving him pause.
"Please, Harvey. Louis is right. We need to talk." she said, carefully approaching her husband.
"I don't feel like talking to you, right now."
The venom in his voice had her recoil, but she deserved every last drop. Although his words hardly paralyzed her. They animated her. "I know you hate me. I know I've hurt you, but please, Harvey, we have to fix this." She stopped when her toes all but touched his.
Staring into his wife's eyes, his anger diluted with the love he felt for her. She was right. Hell, Mike and Louis had been right. If he dug his heels in now, who knew what irreparable damage his relationship would suffer. And as pissed off as he was, he still loved her. "Fine." He inhaled deeply. "I'll stay."
A smile spread over her lips as relief washed away part of the sadness hiding in her features. Then her hands squeezed his biceps, and his palms landed on her waist of their own accord. "Is it okay if I go up and rest for a bit? Because I have a headache and I'm gonna need my strength when we go for round two," she half-joked.
She hadn't meant for it to sound like an excuse to delay the inevitable, but she needed all her faculties if she intended to save her marriage. Although being this close to him again was already helping the pain dissolve.
Harvey didn't object, didn't doubt she was telling the truth about her headache. She'd been having a lot of those lately. Besides, her removing herself from the group for a while gave him a chance to collect his thoughts, process what had happened, and moreover, visit with Louis and Sheila, whom he'd missed. So, he nodded, tightened his hold for a second, then watched her walk away.
Perhaps there was hope yet.
Harvey carefully pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. After Donna had retired upstairs, he and Louis had spent a good amount of time catching up, and he was more than a little tipsy. But as he entered and the hall light fell on Donna's red mane sticking out against the white sheets, reality pumped a wave of sobriety into his consciousness. They'd never gone more than a few nights apart, and now he hadn't seen her in two whole weeks. Every fiber of his being ached for her, and as he stepped into the room, he told himself he'd do anything to get them back on track. He just needed to figure out how to forgive her for… For what? Merely kissing another man? Louis had talked him off the ledge, reiterated over and over that — as someone with experience — cheating came in many forms. But an unexpected kiss shared between two people having different intentions might not exactly fall into that category. And he had to agree.
Getting his bearings in the dark, he saw a door behind the empty side of the bed. A muted glow spilled onto the floor from a small gap below the frame, and he realized Donna must have left the light on in the bathroom for him. He tiptoed further, trying not to disturb her. Having the talk would have to wait until morning, anyway. His conversation with Louis and the man's sage advice had to sink in. Besides, his mind was as clear as a muddy river. All he needed was a good night's sleep, and come tomorrow, they would work everything out. Or so he hoped.
As he moved towards the bathroom, Donna stirred.
"Hey, you awake?" he whispered.
"Hmm. Yeah." Donna reached for the bedside lamp and flicked the switch. When the harsh brightness illuminated the room, she squinted her eyes.
"How are you feeling?" Harvey asked. "You missed dinner."
"Not great," she said, forcing herself upright. But searing pain pummeled through her head, and she rubbed her temples.
Seeing her discomfort, he nodded. "Go back to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah."
Groggy from the ineffective painkillers and sensitive to light, Donna happily took two more pills she'd left on the night stand and flicked off the lamp. Anticipating the unrelenting shine coming from the bathroom as soon as Harvey opened the door, she turned her body away from the unbearable gleam.
Harvey brushed his teeth and stripped to his boxers. He turned the light off before opening the door and padded into the room. Even without any illumination, he could easily make out the shape of his wife's frame. How he longed to go back to a time when her appetite for him had been insatiable and he'd been eager to satisfy her every need.
He slipped under the covers, facing the ceiling.
"I can't believe Louis ran interference for us," he said, smiling, grateful for their friend's persistence.
"He'll make a hell of a judge one day." Donna stated, turning over to face him.
Harvey crossed his arm behind his head. His fuzzy mind churned with a whirlwind of thoughts but it always circled back to one major topic: images of Donna kissing Kessler. A kiss. Just a kiss.
If any of his exes had kissed him, would that have made him a cheater? Could someone become a cheater against their own will? When he'd been with Paula, could Donna kissing him have been considered adultery because he'd kissed her back? Granted, at the time, he'd had complicated feelings for her, but he was sure Donna didn't have those same feelings for Kessler. And then he remembered he had slept with her when, technically, she'd still been seeing Kessler, and in addition, he had gone and told the man as much. That's how much his love for her had blinded him and how little Kessler had mattered in the process.
Donna had repeated there was nothing going on. And he was inclined to believe her. She would never betray him. Not the Donna he knew. But laying next to him was a version of Donna foreign to him, and the disconnect made his heart beat unsteadily inside his ribcage.
As if sensing his discomfort, her fingers crawled over his chest and her palm came to rest over his left pectoral. "I'm glad you're here."
He wrapped his hand around hers. "So am I."
Soon thereafter, Donna's breathing evened out and his own exhaustion got the better of him, knocking him into a deep slumber.
Some time during the night, Donna awoke from a heaviness straining her range of movement. Harvey's leg had tangled with hers, and one massive arm draped over her chest; his bare torso flush against her back, their hips locked. She was pretty sure they were even sharing a pillow. This level of intimacy had been so uncommon lately, she took a minute to enjoy the sensation. Then he stirred, his arm reaching across her frame while his pelvis pushed into her, alerting her to his waking state.
On instinct, she replied by pressing her ass into his groin.
He groaned, let his hand wander up under her nightgown, seeking, exploring. He found her soft, full breasts, and massaged them, continuing to grind into her.
Donna arched her back, covering his roaming hand with her palm and gently easing him lower.
Harvey got the message and reached between them. He tugged at her panties, forcing the fabric to rub over her clit.
She hummed appreciatively, enjoying the friction. Giving him more access, she pulled one knee up, and from behind, he slid his fingers between her folds and found her wet and wanting.
"You feel so good," he grunted in her ear, slipping a finger inside her heat.
Donna whimpered, needing to return the favor. So, she sent her hand on a blind exploration to find his hard length and free him from his boxers. Once she wrapped her fingers around him, she stroked his glorious, pulsing arousal, already damp at the head.
Shoving her panties aside, he positioned himself at her entrance and, in one motion, sheathed himself inside her hot walls.
God, he'd miss her. Missed this.
Having woken with an erection — being in Donna's near-naked vicinity still had its effects — he didn't need much, and judging by the frantic pace at which Donna was rubbing herself, she was pretty close, too. So, he thrusted faster, deeper. He pushed her knee into the mattress, forcing her into an angle he knew would have her screaming in minutes.
Afraid to wake up the house, Donna cried into the expensive fabric of the guest pillows, muffling her moans, and that invigorated him even more, enough for him to release inside of her, grunting into her hair as he did.
He didn't move, held onto her as the waves of her climax faded and her body stopped trembling.
"I missed you," he said, once his breathing had leveled.
"I missed you, too," she replied. "I think we just made Louis very proud."
She laughed, and he laughed, and then he spooned her again, his strong arm pulling her against him, his nose buried in her auburn locks.
Were their problems so immense they were insurmountable? Lying in the dark, with her in his arms, none of the issues even seemed to exist. All he knew was that he loved her and wanted to move forward. Together.
Tentatively, he placed a small kiss on her shoulder.
Jolted by the impact, Donna turned on her side and rolled onto her back to face him. Their eyes met. She raised her hand and smoothed her left palm over his scruffy cheek.
"Hey."
She knew her stunt with Thomas no doubt circled his mind. After all, he hadn't kissed her yet. So, she traced her thumb first over his upper lip, then his lower lip, in circles, to coax him on.
A few moments passed, and then he dipped down, pausing to feel her breath on his skin before brushing his lips over her mouth. Gentle at first, but soon he deepened the kiss, conquering her mouth, while their tongues danced as they'd done so many times before. Effortlessly. Lazily.
Not in a position to move, Donna let him go on for as long as he wanted, savoring the taste of the only kiss that had ever truly mattered to her.
He pulled back after a while — minutes, hours, she wasn't sure — a soft smile lighting up his face, and she knew she'd been forgiven.
"We should get some sleep," she said.
Harvey nodded and let Donna settle into his body, then closed his eyes, grinning from ear to ear.
Donna awoke, but before blinking her eyes open, she ran a quick scan of herself. Headache: gone. Stomach: empty. She pressed her thighs together. Yep. That delicious post-coital ache: present. It hadn't been a dream. She didn't remember every detail, her semi-subdued state — thanks to painkillers and being half asleep — preventing her, but she remembered how she'd felt, how Harvey had made her feel. How he'd kissed her afterwards. Butterflies surged upwards until a smile formed on her lips. Daylight was already spilling through the curtains, and having stayed at Louis' for over a week now, she knew the Litt House routine. Soon, they would all be awake and bustling to prepare for their day.
She rolled over to face Harvey's sleeping form and found his back turned towards her. Even though they'd made love last night, their issues remained. And him being willing to stay and talk didn't mean they were out of the woods.
She placed a kiss on his bicep, inhaling his scent. Then another, and another, trailing her way up to his shoulder until he roused. Huffing, he rolled onto his back and pulled her on top of his chest, taking his time to let reality bleed into his consciousness. She used to love their mornings and had missed the intimacy of shutting out the world a while longer, pretending to be in a bubble where only they existed.
"Headache gone," he asked, kissing her forehead.
"Hmm, yeah."
"Good."
Listening to his heartbeat, Donna nearly lulled back to sleep, but nature called, and she reluctantly got up, knowing her movement would cause their bubble to burst from the real world seeping into the room.
When Donna returned, Harvey was sitting up in bed, phone in hand, typing frantically. As soon as he noticed her, he dropped the device on the nightstand, like he'd been caught. She'd accused him of working too much, and he wanted to show her his priorities had changed, even if that caused a struggle in his head.
"The case?"
"Yeah," he replied, feeling guilty for his job claiming his attention.
"Do you need to finish that, whatever you were doing?" she asked grudgingly.
"No. It can wait."
Donna clambered onto the bed and sat cross-legged beside Harvey, facing him. She took his hand, needing a physical connection for the conversation they were about to have. "What are we gonna do?"
"You really want to move back here?"
"I do. There's nothing for me in Seattle."
"Nothing?" he replied, the expression on his face morphing into devastation. He was in Seattle, but if he no longer counted, what did?
"You know what I mean."
"No, Donna, I don't."
"Harvey, I can't live my life without a purpose. I love being so close to Mike and Rachel but…"
He waited.
"I am not a housewife," she mumbled.
"I know you're not."
"But that's all I've been for the past few months, and I can't do it anymore." She shook her head. Defeat was not in her vocabulary, but Donna had to admit that she saw no way out. She'd failed as a wife. She'd never once failed in her life, but this she couldn't do, and the shame associated with that failure had ruined her.
His face fell.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you were happy."
"How can I be happy when you aren't?"
She had no answer. When they had spent sixteen-hour days together, her happiness had never mattered. Not to this extent. Sure, he cared, but the bottom line was, he had always expected her to be at his beck and call and drop any personal preoccupation. And somehow, she had relapsed into that role, making him a priority instead of herself.
"So what do we do now?"
"I guess we're moving back."
Hearing the words lifted the shackles from her soul, but she remained careful not to get her hopes up too soon. "But what about your job?"
"I don't know. I'll figure something out." He'd gotten himself out of many difficult situations, and of all of them, this one had the simplest solution. "But Donna, I am not that guy anymore."
"What guy?"
"That guy who only cares about his career. You are more important than that. And if I gave you any reason to think you weren't, I'm sorry."
Her eyes watered. "Do you really mean that?"
"Of course I do."
Propelled by exhilaration, Donna straddled her husband, took his face between her palms, and kissed him like it was the last time and the first, all wrapped up in one hungry package.
Harvey tugged at her nightgown and tossed the silk on the floor. He seized the moment to revel in her beauty. "I really missed you," he said, lifting up to kiss her before rolling them over. Their fingers entwined, and he noticed she had put her wedding ring back on. His eyes darted from her hand to her face, and she smiled.
"I missed you, too," she responded, enjoying the skin on skin contact of their bodies as they writhed in unison.
They were lost in each other when a loud knocking broke their spell, and Louis' voice barreled through the door. "Everything okay in there?"
"Everything's fine, Louis." Harvey shouted, smiling.
"How about Donna?"
"I'm fine, too, Louis," she yelled, shaking her head, laughing.
"All right. We're going. There's breakfast in the kitchen. See you tonight."
As his footsteps receded, Harvey jumped off the bed, strode across the room, and opened the door enough to poke his head out. "Louis," he called, and waited for the man to turn around. "Thanks. For everything."
"You got it," he replied, then paused, glancing at Harvey's near-naked form. "We need to have a little discussion. I have…" — he wiggled his finger up and down Harvey's body — "questions."
Harvey frowned. "Eh, sure, Louis. See you later."
Donna watched Harvey close the door and with his eyebrows drawn in confusion crawl back into bed. "What?"
"Louis said he wanted to have a 'discussion' and then pointed at my body. I feel dirty."
Donna laughed, a boisterous, hearty laugh.
"What?"
"He probably wants pointers."
"On what?" he exclaimed, somewhat bewildered.
"Your 'technique.'"
"My what?"
"When we first got together, Louis asked me how you were in bed," Donna explained, remembering the conversation with a smile.
"Good god."
"You know he's always looked up to you. I think it's cute."
"Yeah, I'm not giving him any tips," he said, climbing back on top of his wife. "He has a daughter. I think he knows perfectly well what to do."
"We do owe him, you know," she murmured between kisses.
"I guess we do," he conceded, recalling the last twelve hours. He hovered over her, caressing her cheek. "Are we okay?"
She nodded. "Yeah, Harvey, we are."
"So, we're moving again," he mumbled, letting the idea sink in. Honestly, he didn't care where they lived. As long as they were both happy, he'd be happy living in a cardboard box.
"Are you sure you're good with that?"
"I am. I think I can talk Mike into starting up a new location here. Hell, they might be ready to move back with us. You know they've talked about having a family, and hers is here, too," he said, remembering the conversations he and Rachel had had over stale sushi when working late nights. "Plus, the team they've assembled is great, and I'm sure they'll continue to do the work just fine on their own. And Mike and I can take the occasional business trip. It'll be fun. Besides, it will be nice to be closer to Marcus. I haven't seen enough of him since our mom passed away."
"Then it's settled. My tenant is moving out today, so once everything is cleaned, we can live there until we find a new place."
"Perfect," he said, placing a kiss on her lips. "I love you."
"I love you, too. Now make love to me so you can tell Louis later how you and I had sex under his roof."
"Oh my god. I'll never hear the end of it." He laughed.
The prospect of seeing Louis — or any of their East Coast friends — again on a regular basis felt good. They had tried Seattle, but the plan hadn't worked out as Harvey had hoped. Perhaps not all plans were meant to succeed. New York was ultimately where they had met and fell in love. Where they belonged.
They might have taken the long way, but they were richer for it. And they were finally home.
THE END
A/N: I should go on holiday more often because this story wrote itself. But then Cassie checked it and made it 1000 times better. Honestly, without her, it would have been a disaster. So, I hope you liked it and please let me know what you think by leaving a quick review. Also, be sure to read her ficlet that is the perfect prologue to this story: s/13722160/38/Anthology-of-Interest-I