The silence in this small D.C. kitchen is deafening. After an hour of shouting, we're just staring at each other. We can't get married. This isn't going to work. Josh? Donna…we can't. I know. Then I cry. I always vowed after Dr Freeride, that I would never cry when a man dumped me again. Except, this hurts. It physically hurts as if someone is stabbing me in the heart. I look around, no knives. He's not stabbing me. Everything hurts and I am quite certain I might die. I wonder for a moment if he feels the same and for a moment I think he might, because his eyes are red. But, then he clears his throat and stiffens. I think he's going to be fine. Josh Lyman and I are breaking up and it seems really final.
If someone had told me a month ago that I would be standing in my kitchen across from the love of my life as we decide to break up, I would have slapped them. Who would even dare to put that out into the universe. I almost slapped Josh just seconds ago. I can't quite explain what happened. We're supposed to get married in three months on the Bartlet family farm and now he's looking at me, his chest heaving. Not from making passionate love in our bedroom, but instead from screaming throughout the apartment. Something we have done a lot in the last hour. How can 8 years of building the greatest love story, a trip to Hawaii and an engagement lead to us standing here. Suddenly strangers. Standing in silence.
I watch as he unbuttons his cuffs and rolls up the sleeves of his striped Brooks Brother's tops. I know him. When he's unsure or nervous or angry, he fidgets. He takes a step forward. I silently talk to him, my eyes filled with tears as I plead internally. Fight for me. Kiss me now and I will forget this damn fight even happened. I changed my mind. I don't want to break up. Change your mind, please. He stops and runs a hand through his hair before placing a hand on his hip. "So um…I can get a hotel tonight."
"Yeah." I cross my arms, rubbing a hand over my face. I'm really shaky now and afraid to actually look into a mirror. I get blotchy when I get upset and I know I look rough. "Actually, it's technically your apartment. I can go stay at CJ's."
"Donna…" He starts, pulling his Blackberry from his pocket. "It won't be any trouble. You can stay here until you decide where you want to live."
Something about that sparks my rage again. Any trouble? This whole fight was trouble. A month ago we were trying to get pregnant and working on seating charts. "No, really. I would hate for you to miss the Mets game."
"I don't care about the Mets game." Josh sighs, before looking back down at his Blackberry. He has no issue checking his email or communicating with anyone else. "But i do have a call with the Ambassador to Cyprus so I need to be back in the office within the hour."
"Yeah…of course you do." I scott, wiping at my eyes. He's not a cold man. He's being cold right now, because he's still angry. Angry that I was angry. Angry, because he let us get to this point. Hell, I'm angry we let us get to this point. Two weeks apart while he traveled in Europe and instead of hot and tense reunion sex, we're done. "CJ doesn't get back until tomorrow morning, so I'll go tonight and…"
"Are you sure? I don't mind." He offers, walking to the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of Polar Ice. He twists the cap off and turns around. For the first time since the yelling stopped, his face is softening. Only this time, mine isn't. I'm mad. I really am. I don't know how long we've been sitting in quiet, because he speaks again. "Donna?"
"I'm going to go pack some stuff for the next few days." I speak coldly, before pulling my body from the edge of the counter. I decide looking at him might cause my death, so I briskly walk past him before he can say another word, my eyes ignoring the photos I've hung of us and our family members on the wall of HIS apartment. Not mine. Not ours. His.
For a moment I think he'll follow me, but as I walk into the bedroom and close the dark wood door behind me, I realize I came in alone. That breaking up really does mean something final. That a trip to Hawaii, moving in together immediately after and engaged a year later doesn't hold up once you decide to end things. The greatest love story ever told, wasn't strong enough to stand up to our demanding careers and egos. That realization is all it takes for the tears to flow and my body to sink down to the floor. Josh Lyman is and will be the only love of my life. I know that for a fact, but I also know not all stories have a happy ending. Not all love is supposed to last forever. Maybe I was only supposed to love him as his assistant. Maybe we took too big of a leap.
"Donna?" Josh's voice comes through the door and now I can tell he's outside the door. Maybe this is where we fix it. This is where we realize this was all so stupid. I jump up and wipe my face again. There is no way to hide the fact that I've been sobbing. Surely, he heard me. I run a hand over my skirt, before pull the door open and he's there, his hand on his backpack. "I was just going to remind you to leave before dark. You shouldn't be out alone."
A thousand knives stab me right in my chest. "You can leave now."
"Okay…" He says softly, his hands moving to his pockets. It's a signature Josh stance and works for all occasions. "I…"
"What?" I snap, crossing my hands over my chest, surely just trying to keep it in my body.
"I…" He stops and looks around, almost as if something is pulling him back. Say it. Say it. "Bye."
"Bye." I breathe heavily, my breath trying to catch itself. My instinct and Italian temper want to slam the door in his face, but I don't want to be the first to look away. I want to memorize his face, because I don't know if I will get to see him in a personal capacity again and I'm confused. I'm hurt but mostly I am just very aware of how in love I am and that I don't think I will ever recover. I watch as he makes his way down the hall and around the corner. Without any hesitation, I hear the door close. He doesn't slam it, but it's enough to confirm one thing. I didn't fight for Josh and Josh didn't fight for me. What was meant to be a sweet reunion, turned into the Great War. The only thing is neither side knows what they're fighting for.