Chapter 5 is a little longer, I figured I owed it to you after the long wait for Chapter 4. As always, thank you so much for all your reviews – they are such an inspiration to keep writing! I hope you enjoy this chapter!

"I don't know, I was thinking of having the lobster, but there's part of me that would very much like a big juicy steak." Paula smiled at him across their table, her features softened by the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are you getting?"

Harvey stared at her and knew suddenly, as clearly as if a sign had appeared above her head, that he had to end things with her.

Paula was everything he should want in a partner. She was intelligent, warm, straightforward, and beautiful. There was only one thing she wasn't.

She wasn't Donna.

He put his hands over hers. "Paula, can we get out of here? I need to talk to you and this isn't the place."

Paula's face clouded over, and he damned her therapist's intuition.

She lowered her head and spoke to the table. "No, Harvey. I'm starving and since you're breaking up with me, I'd like to stay here where I can eat my feelings after you've left."

Harvey was quiet, not sure what to say to that right away. Finally, he tried a teasing tone. "Isn't that unhealthy? I mean from a mental health standpoint"

Paula looked up at him and her smile was wistful and sad. "Well, we are none of us perfect."

Harvey shook his head. "You're pretty close, Paula. I really want to say..."

She cut him off. "Harvey, there's no need. I've known for days that this was coming, ever since you drank yourself into oblivion the other night." She paused for a moment. "Actually, that's not true. I think I've known from the beginning."

Harvey began to protest that, but she waved at him dismissively.

"Oh, I know you didn't know from the beginning. I know you truly believed that you wanted to be with me. I had hoped that our collective will to be together would make this work." She shook her head. "But a relationship really only has enough room in it for two people. At least, my relationships do, and ours has had a third person tagging along from the very beginning."

Harvey sighed deeply. "I'm sorry, Paula, really. I never meant to..."

Paula's eyes watered slightly. "I know, Harvey. I know you never meant to lie to me, or to yourself. I know you never meant to hurt me." She smiled ruefully. "The truth is you're really a very sweet, kind, man you know."

Harvey scoffed. "And here I thought you were supposed to be a professional."

"I am, and as a professional I'll tell you, that you deserve to be happy." She paused and gave him a look full of meaning. "And we both know what, or rather whom, you need to be happy."

Harvey shook his head. "Paula..."

She reached out a hand and placed it on his cheek. "Don't wait too long to tell her, Harvey. She deserves to be happy too."

She took a steadying breath and dropped her hand. "Now get out of here so I can eat chocolate cake for supper and dessert." She smiled a wobbly smile. "Oh, and pay the cheque on your way out, will you? Just leave your credit card number with the hostess, I may throw a few glasses of wine into the bargain."

Harvey stood up and smiled down at her. "I'll do that." He placed a kiss on the top of her head. "It's only fair, I suppose. I owe you much more than I can repay."

He squeezed her hand and walked away, feeling a weight lift from his chest, and anticipating a sunnier tomorrow.

The rain fell, heavy and gray, endlessly drumming against the massive windows in Harvey's office. He faced away from the door, watching the outside world through a curtain of water. The dismal grey skies perfectly matched his mood. His body felt sluggish and everything around him felt dark and oppressive.

He heard soft footfalls enter his office and he tensed. She was here.

"I just need your signature here, Harvey." Her voice was pleasant.

He turned around and saw her standing a respectful two or three feet from his desk; close enough that she could hand him the paperwork easily, but not so close as to imply camaraderie or invite confidences.

She looked beautiful standing in front of him. Her hair had been cut recently, making it wavier than it was when it was longer. Bouncy red waves fell to her shoulders, surrounding her lightly freckled face. She wore a sage green jumpsuit with a fitted bodice and long straight legs.

She looked perfectly groomed, perfectly put together and it made Harvey's heart ache. She didn't miss him at all.

It had been three weeks since she'd walked away from him in the lobby and every day the distance between them grew. Everyday they went about performing the business of the firm, and every day she smiled pleasantly, spoke pleasantly, and basically set him to grinding his teeth during most of their interactions.

In the first few days after their confrontation, he'd been grateful. He was happy that things weren't overly strained or awkward. Of course, he still wanted her desperately, but he was hoping that that would soon be under control too and he could go back to repressing the memory of her soft, yielding flesh beneath his hands.

But the memory of her stayed with him constantly. He heard her soft sighs and whimpers of pleasure every time he closed his eyes. When she looked at him, all he wanted to do was crush her lips beneath his, until her eyes lost their look of cool disinterest and blazed with the fiery passion he knew lived in their depths.

She; however, was more than happy to move farther and farther away from him. She smiled, but it was never a real smile. She never laughed with him, or teased him. She never gave him shit for anything, or bolstered him up at the exact moment he needed it. She never shared stories of her day with him, or talked to him about anything of any consequence. It was all about the job. She was only interested in talking firm business and even then, only for a few minutes at a time.

She had moved on completely and he was increasingly sure, he never would.

Now, she passed him the settlement document she was holding. He took the folder and opened it. The silence stretched out between them while he perused the papers. He wanted to say something, wanted to break the wall that stood between them. But he didn't know where he could possibly start. Her crisp efficiency and brisk politeness was an obstruction he couldn't get past.

He lingered over the simple four-page document, pretending to read it over incredibly thoroughly, all the while trying to think of something to say.

"Is there a problem with the settlement?" Donna asked.

"No, it looks fine so far. I just want to be careful."

She didn't say anything further and another minute stretched out in silence.

Finally, some annoyance crept into her voice. "Harvey, they didn't study the Declaration of Independence this long! It's a boiler plate settlement."

Harvey grinned, happy that some emotion had finally trumped "cordial" in her dealings with him. "I want to be a very hands-on Managing Partner. Can't let my employees slip up, how would that make the firm look?"

He was hoping to goad her into losing her cool a little more. But at the teasing comment, her affable mask fell back into place and she just smiled. Pleasantly. Harvey wanted to scream.

Instead, he signed the bottom of the last page and handed the folder back across the desk. She reached for it, but when she grabbed it, he didn't let go. She pulled gently on it, but Harvey held fast.

"How are you, Donna?" He asked, seriously, trying to catch her gaze.

She let go of the folder and moved away. "I'm fine, Harvey, thanks. But busy, so just drop that in my office when you have a chance."

"Wait!" Harvey called, and she stopped in the doorway, her back to him.

He got up and moved around his desk. He stood behind her, reaching around her body to pass the folder to her. Her scent, a combination of vanilla and warm spice, wafted up to him and he wondered what would happen if he lifted the hair off her neck and placed a kiss there.

You'd get sued for sexual harassment, Asshole, Harvey thought angrily. Hasn't she made it perfectly clear she isn't interested in dealing with your shit anymore? You said you'd let her go. This is what that looks like. Polite conversation and nothing more.

Donna grabbed hold of the folder and moved off down the hallway, passing her office. "Thanks, Harvey." She called back to him - pleasant once again.

Harvey walked back into his office and poured himself a scotch. He took a sip, and then angrily threw the glass against the wall underneath his mother's painting. The sound of it shattering did very little to help him.

She was gone. Donna was gone. He felt his breathing catch and a familiar tightening in his chest.

Before he could completely lose control, he ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his coat. He was about to go and do something he never, ever thought he would do.

He was off to see his young protégé for advice about his love life.

Harvey banged on the door a second time. He knew he was disturbing Mike. The younger man was home sick. But Harvey had run through the rain to hail a taxi, too impatient to wait for Ray. And he hadn't come this far, dripping and sodden, to turn back now.

As he banged a third time, Mike's vastly irritated voice came through the door to him.

"Okay! For fuck sakes, I'm coming!"

The door swung open and Mike's deep scowl transformed into a look of surprise.

"Harvey!" He pulled his bathrobe closed over his boxers. "What are you doing here?" He looked toward his bedroom as Harvey pushed his way into the apartment. "Is something wrong?"

Harvey felt his mind unraveling. "Yes! Something is absolutely wrong! How could you not already know why I'm here?!" Harvey yelled, completely, and irrationally, annoyed with Mike. Why did he have to try and explain how he was feeling?

His thoughts spilled out as he yelled again. "Aren't you supposed to be my family, my best friend? How do you not know why I'm here?!"

Mike stared at him, blue eyes wide and unblinking in complete bewilderment.

"Harvey, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I do."

Harvey spun around to see Rachel emerging from the bedroom tightening the belt of her robe. He suddenly understood just how sick Mike actually was. He tilted his head, giving Rachel a knowing look. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting with a client?" He turned the same look on Mike. "Are we repping you in a case I'm unaware of?"

Rachel waved him away. "The meeting ended early." She pointed a finger at Harvey. "I know why you're here losing your shit. It's the same thing that has had Donna walking around like a broken-hearted ghost for the last three weeks."

Harvey cut in. "Are you kidding me? Broken-hearted? She's fine. She's better than fine. She's..." He paused and then grimaced. "... pleasant."

He began pacing. "Every time I see her she's cordial and polite, like she doesn't have a care in the world. Cordial!" He repeated, voice raised.

"Oh my God, Harvey! You are such an idiot!" Rachel yelled back at him. Harvey stopped pacing and looked at her in surprise.

"That's right, you heard me." Rachel said, her voice lower but still unflinching. "How can you be so good at reading people, so good at knowing what they're thinking, even before they do, and still not be able to see how much Donna is hurting? She loves you, Harvey; has loved you for so many years. Do you honestly think she's just over that?" Rachel's beautiful face was scrunched up into disbelief. "How can you be so blind and stupid?"

Harvey had no answer to that and simply stood trying to get a handle on his emotions. But a small bud of hope had sprung up in his mind. Was she really just a much better actress than he'd ever given her credit for?

Mike poured him a drink and walked over to where he stood by the couch. He pulled Harvey's dripping coat off his shoulders and pushed him lightly onto the couch. He handed him the drink. "She's right, you know." He nodded at the glass. "Drink."

Harvey obeyed, downing the drink in one swallow. "What do I do, then?" Harvey asked. Asking for advice and help went against every instinct in Harvey's body and Mike's answer only made things worse.

"You tell her how you feel."

Harvey shook his head, his voice rising again in frustration. "I don't know how to do that! Anytime I've tried or thought about trying, all my words just sit like a lump in my throat. Or I say the stupidest things, and everything gets twisted around from the way I meant it."

He dropped his head into his hands. Silence reigned for a few minutes before Rachel broke it.

"Write a letter." she said, her voice alive with inspiration.

Harvey raised his head to scowl at her as though she was a madwoman. "What?"

"Yes!" Rachel said, eyes lit with romantic zeal. "A love letter."

Harvey looked at Mike, his arms thrown wide in appeal.

Mike nodded, picking up on Harvey's incredulity. "Yeah, I don't know, Rach. I don't think a love letter is necessarily..."

Rachel put her hands on her hips. "Listen to me. After all the shit you've put that woman through, she deserves to be wooed. She deserves to have her praises written." Her eyes widened with new inspiration. "With a little help from Mr. Shakespeare."

Harvey looked horrified. "You want me to write her a fucking sonnet?!"

Rachel's eyes narrowed, her expression full of passionate fury and accusation. "Are you telling me you don't think she's worth a sonnet?"

Harvey threw his hands up as though he was being arrested. "No! That's...you're right…she deserves a sonnet."

Rachel's expression shifted back to hopeful romantic. "Okay! I'm going to get the pen and paper!" She practically squealed, racing into the bedroom.

Harvey gave Mike a look of terror. "Thank God that woman is on our side. Can you imagine facing that in court?"

Mike chuckled. "Imagine facing that when you miss an appointment with the wedding planner!"