Mugs
Donna's apartment is becoming a sea of boxes and packed furniture, some of which will be transported across the country with them, while the rest will stay in New York. And the task is exhausting.
"I thought being married would be more fun," she says in frustration, sealing a box labeled 'donation.'
"And my condo is still as always," he responds, carrying down crockery from the cupboard onto the kitchen counter.
"I know, but you'll manage it on your own!" she laughs.
"Excuse me? I've been packing things with you all weekend, and won't you do the same for me?"
"Hmm, I don't know," she wrinkles her nose and drinks a sip of water.
"Think about it, if you help me, you can get rid of the things you don't wanna bring to our new house," he says, grabbing the mugs with red and blue fish that Donna has had for years and he hates. "Like these awful mugs!"
"No!" she exclaims. "Those cups are coming with me."
"Donna…" he frowns. "They're really awful."
"I knew you'd hate them." Harvey looks at her, confused. "They were a gift from a client. Do you remember Sam Turner?"
"A gift for me?" he asks, feigning nausea.
"Yeah, they never made it to your hands because I knew you'd hate them," she says, taking them out of his hands. "But they're my favorites, and I'll continue to have breakfast with them, even if you don't like it." She adds, searching for wrapping paper.
"But…wait…" he says, placing his hand on her lower waist, making her look back at him. "How many gifts have you kept?" she giggles. "Besides buying you gifts, did you keep my gifts?"
"Some of them…"
"For example?"
"The Scotches went to you, the wines stayed under my desk."
"Donna!" he pretends to be angry. "Have you been keeping my gifts all these years?"
"Yeah," she tells him shamelessly and goes to pack her favorite mugs.
"I'm starting to realize how dangerous it was to marry you." He laughs at her and gives her a kiss on the cheek.
"It's really dangerous… Luckily, you love me," she winks at him, offering him a sweet smile and giving him a peck.
