Thank you to everyone for the reviews ! :)
No TW here
In the weeks that followed, Harvey found himself ensnared in a tangled web of emotions, each strand pulled him in conflicting directions. There was an unsettling sensation, as if he were a mere spectator to his own life, observing it unfold in slow motion. The weight of his new responsibilities as managing partner bore down on him with crushing force, exacerbated by the absence of Donna's invaluable assistance.
In this new role, Harvey discovered a respite of sorts: a reduction in client interactions, he knew he wouldn't have been the best closer right now. Yet, the relief was tainted by his gnawing self-doubt, his confidence shaken to its core. Desperately trying to maintain focus, he sought refuge in copious amounts of coffee, only to find himself physically unable to keep it down, a cruel irony of his deteriorating state.
Despite the sleep that engulfed him every night, earlier and earlier as time went by, the exhaustion was as pronounced as ever. It's as if he'd only slept a few hours rather than a whole night. Each morning brought a foggy haze that refused to dissipate. His mind tormented him relentlessly, poisoning even his intimate moments with Paula.
Avoidance became a habit, an attempt to shield himself from Donna's penetrating gaze. The mere thought of her unraveling his secrets sent shivers down his spine. For this, her newfound position as COO offered a reprieve, reducing their interactions to a tolerable minimum.
The thin partition between them was a reflection of what was happening in his head. He yearned to banish Donna from his heart, to sever the ties that bound them, yet found himself ensnared in an endless loop of longing and regret.
As the gala loomed on the horizon, Harvey knew he could evade the truth no longer. He found himself cornered, unable to retreat from the impending revelation. The thought of escorting Paula into the event without preamble left a sour taste in his mouth. He cringed at the mental image of her introducing herself, knowing the inevitable speculation and scrutiny that would follow. It was imperative that he take charge of the situation, allowing his friends the space and time to digest the news before thrusting them into the spotlight.
He finally managed to take a break for lunch and invited Mike to enjoy their well-deserved break together. It had been ages since the two of them had been together, so Mike was more than happy that Harvey was the one initiating the lunch.
They found sanctuary in their favorite bistro, nestled close to the office, where the clink of glasses and hearty laughter provided a welcome contrast to the rigors of their daily grind. While the fare may have lacked the pomp and grandeur of haute cuisine, the simple pleasures of a cold beer and hearty meat were all they sought.
However, Harvey's stomach churned with a wave of nausea drowning him, feeling more nauseous than a pregnant woman in her first trimester. Each glance at the menu intensified his queasiness, his hopes for a reprieve dashed by the unchanging array of carnivorous delights. Two meat-centric dishes, a duo of burgers boasting different toppings, and a lone pasta option taunted him from the page, each choice more unappealing than the last.
'Fuck'
In the midst of his internal turmoil, the arrival of the waiter brought a fleeting sense of relief, albeit tinged with resignation. Without missing a beat, Mike placed his order with characteristic gusto, opting for a double burger accompanied by a generous serving of cheddar fries.
"What are you going through a growth spurt? You kids." Harvey thought to himself.
As Mike observed Harvey's lingering gaze fixed on the menu, a furrow creased his brow. "Harvey, are you okay?" he ventured, his voice laced with slight worry.
Harvey's response came clipped. "Yeah, it's just that I'm not very hungry," he admitted, though his tone hinted at deeper unrest.
Sensing Harvey's unease, the waiter approached their table, offering a lifeline in the form of a suggestion delivered with a sympathetic smile. "If I may, sir, the salmon salad is quite small. It's usually served as an appetizer so it's perfect if you don't have much of an appetite."
Harvey's response was tinged with a mixture of impatience and discomfort, a reflection of his desire to hasten through the encounter. "Go for the salad," he muttered disdainfully.
With the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air, silence enveloped them like a thick fog, punctuated only by the occasional clink of cutlery against plates. Harvey found himself adrift in the quietude, his thoughts drifting back to simpler times spent in the company of his friend.
He longed for the familiar banter, the mindless discussions that had once served as a welcome reprieve from the demands of their profession. The mention of Survivor or the latest Nets game would have been a welcome distraction, a chance to lose himself in the trivialities of everyday life.
But as he was across from Mike, a sense of unease gnawed at him, a nagging fear that their reunion would devolve into yet another argument. Despite their shared history, their interactions of late had been fraught with tension, words often surpassing their thoughts with a sharpness that left wounds in their wake.
Mike's keen observation didn't go unnoticed by Harvey. "Okay, spit it out, Harvey. What's going on?" Mike's voice held a blend of curiosity and apprehension.
Harvey's response was characteristically defensive, laced with a hint of bravado. "Am I that obvious?" he quipped, his attempt to deflect attention from his inner turmoil falling flat in the face of Mike's unwavering scrutiny.
But Mike was not to be deterred, his familiarity with Harvey's tricks rendering his attempts at evasion futile. "There's gotta be something given your condition," he persisted.
"My condition? I'm as incredible as ever, what are you talking about?" Despite his outward bravado, Harvey's facade began to crack under Mike's relentless questioning.
Undeterred by Harvey's efforts to deflect, Mike pressed on, his determination unyielding. "I'm talking about the dark circles, the off-the-cuff answers, the lack of energy to piss Louis off, and now you'd rather eat a—"
"I'm in a relationship," Harvey interjected, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. At last, the truth was laid bare, a weight lifted from his shoulders as he finally revealed the source of his inner turmoil.
The revelation hung heavy in the air, leaving Mike momentarily stunned. "Say that again?" he murmured, struggling to process the sudden shift in conversation.
"I've been seeing someone for a few weeks, and it's pretty serious," Harvey confessed.
"Oh, okay. I'm... happy for you, I guess?" Mike's response was hesitant, his uncertainty betrayed his struggle to reconcile Harvey's revelation with his own preconceived notions.
"Why wouldn't you be?" Harvey countered, his defensiveness resurfaced in the face of his friend's tentative response.
Mike hesitated, his gaze drifting to the table as he searched for the right words. "Well, if everything I just described is related to you being in a relationship, maybe you were better off single," he admitted.
But Harvey refused to entertain such doubts, his resolve unshaken by Mike's misgivings. "No, it has nothing to do with her," he insisted, his conviction unwavering.
With the topic momentarily set aside, Mike returned to the matter at hand, eager to offer his support. "So, is this the blonde from the café the other day?" he inquired, trying to steer the conversation towards lighter fare met with a playful tease from Harvey.
"That's great, Harvey, really. We should all have the opportunity to share our lives with someone, with the right person," Mike offered, despite his lingering doubts.
But as Harvey watched Mike's earnest expression, a pang of regret washed over him, his thoughts drifting to the woman who occupied his thoughts even in her absence.
"She'll never be the right person," he mused silently. Instead of voicing his doubts, he chose to mask his inner turmoil with a teasing jab at his friend. "Oh my God, stop talking like a girl. It's embarrassing, even for you, Mike," he quipped, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Asshole," Mike shot back, his laughter ringing out in the midst of their shared uncertainty.
Their dishes arrived and Mike dove into his burger with gusto, as if savoring his first meal after days of deprivation, while Harvey toyed with his salad, his appetite nonexistent and his stomach coiling tighter with each passing moment.
Despite Harvey's attempts to mask his discomfort, an aura of unease hung palpably around him, a silent testament to the turmoil raging within. Mike, ever perceptive, noted the subtle shift in his friend's demeanor, his concern mingled with a sense of helplessness in the face of Harvey's inscrutable facade.
Aware that pressing Harvey for answers would only yield resistance, Mike opted for silence, choosing instead to offer his silent support in the hopes that his presence alone would provide solace to his troubled friend. He understood all too well the futility of pushing Harvey to confront his demons before he was ready, knowing that such efforts would only serve to drive them further apart.
In a bid to lighten the mood, Mike steered the conversation towards safer shores, eager to offer Harvey a brief respite from his inner turmoil. "So, how long have you two been seeing each other?" he ventured, his tone light despite the weight of concern that gnawed at him.
"A little over a month," Harvey replied tersely, his gaze fixed on his salad as if searching for answers amid the tangle of greens and dressing. Mike's attempt at levity fell flat in the face of Harvey's reticence, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.
Undeterred, Mike pressed on, his curiosity piqued by Harvey's enigmatic demeanor. "Wow, that's a record for Harvey Specter. She must be special," he remarked, hoping to draw his friend out of his shell with a gentle jest.
But Harvey remained stubbornly silent, lost in thought.
"She must be special." Jessica's exact words when he'd required Donna's hiring. She'd always been the special one, whether it was about work or... everything else. Harvey would have laughed if he didn't feel like puking his guts out on the table.
Frustrated by his friend's silence, Mike forged ahead, determined to unravel the mystery that shrouded Harvey's newfound relationship.
"How did you meet her?" he inquired, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on Harvey as he awaited an answer.
At this question, Harvey finally looked up, his eyes meeting Mike's with a glint of resignation. Mike knew him well enough to recognize the telltale signs of evasion, bracing himself for the twisted tale that was sure to follow.
"Hmm, do you remember last year when Donna left and I started having panic attacks?" Harvey began, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. The memory of Donna's departure still loomed large in their shared consciousness.
"Sure..." Mike replied, his voice softening with empathy. The sight of Harvey, his invincible facade crumbling in the wake of Donna's absence, had been a sobering revelation, a stark reminder of his humanity. You never expect to see your hero in a vulnerable state, but as it turns out even Superman is vulnerable in the presence of kryptonite. Donna was Harvey's kryptonite, and no relationship could ever change that. Mike would never forget that time.
"I went to therapy at that time and, um... It turns out Paula was my therapist," Harvey confessed, his words heavy with the weight of confession. In that moment, the tangled web of Harvey's past and present seemed to unravel before Mike's eyes, leaving a trail of unanswered questions.
Mike's gaze bore into Harvey with an intensity that bordered on disbelief, his brows arching higher than ever before as he struggled to process the bombshell that had been dropped in his lap. Speech eluded him momentarily, his mind racing to make sense of the revelation that had just been laid bare before him. "What did you just say?" he finally managed to stammer out, his voice tinged with incredulity.
"Paula was my therapist," Harvey repeated, his words hanging in the air like a confession. Even as he spoke them, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that they sounded wrong, absurd even. Mike's stunned silence only served to amplify his own uncertainty, leaving him grappling for words to clarify the situation.
But Mike was already piecing together the puzzle, his mind racing with disbelief.
"What the hell?" he thought.
The idea that Harvey, of all people, would engage in a romantic relationship with his former therapist seemed too far-fetched to be true, a notion that Mike was determined to unravel.
In the face of Mike's skepticism, Harvey offered a feeble defense, his words tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "I haven't been her patient for over a year. Legally, we're not doing anything wrong if that's what you're worried about," he insisted, though the justification rang hollow even to his own ears.
"That's clearly not what I'm worried about, Harvey," Mike shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface as he struggled to comprehend the situation. Harvey's attempt to downplay the significance of his relationship with Paula only served to fuel Mike's skepticism, leaving him grappling with a sense of unease that refused to be quelled.
Harvey sat back in his chair, his fingers drumming nervously against the smooth surface of the table. He fumbled for words, desperately trying to articulate what he felt. "Then what? She's nice, cute, thank God she's not a lawyer, and she already knows me," he listed. These were just superficial qualities, he knew, but they were the only ones he could grasp onto at the moment.
Mike leaned forward, his brow furrowing in concern. "Yeah, because you paid her to be able to talk," he shot back. He tried to tread carefully, to ease the tension hanging in the air. "Look, I'm not going to lie, I find it weird, but... You're a grown man, you know what you're doing, so if you're happy with her, I'm okay with it," he said with uncertainty.
Harvey felt a weight lift off his shoulders at Mike's attempt to ease the situation, though a knot of anxiety still twisted in his stomach. He managed a small, grateful smile. "Thanks, Mike, I appreciate it," he responded, his voice soft with relief.
"Does Donna know?" Mike asked.
Mike's question hung heavy in the air, like a guillotine poised to drop. Harvey felt his heart plummet to his stomach at the mention of Donna.
Fuck, he cursed inwardly, scrambling for a response. "I was planning on telling her tonight when there's less commotion at the firm," he managed, his voice strained with apprehension. He desperately wished to steer the conversation away from Donna, his thoughts a whirlwind of anxiety and dread.
In an attempt to deflect, Harvey shifted gears swiftly. "Paula will be at the gala, so I hope you won't throw in her face that our relationship is weird for you," he said, his tone tinged with defensiveness. The mention of Paula brought a surge of unease, but he masked it behind a facade of bravado.
Mike bristled, his posture stiffening with indignation. "Unlike you, I know how to behave in public and not make people uncomfortable," he retorted, his words laced with a hint of resentment.
Harvey couldn't help but smirk at Mike's jab. "Whatever, Robin," he quipped, his smile strained. It was a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, to ease the tension that crackled between them like static electricity.
With the weight of their conversation lingering in the air like an unspoken truth, Mike finished his meal in silence, his movements brisk and efficient. Each bite seemed to carry the weight of unspoken tension, the air thick with unresolved emotions. Harvey, too, found his appetite waning, his fork pushing around the remnants of his untouched salad.
As they rose from the table, the atmosphere between them felt strained, the camaraderie that usually filled their interactions replaced by an awkward stiffness. Mike's swift departure signaled his desire to escape the discomfort, his steps echoing with a sense of urgency.
Harvey lingered for a moment, his gaze lingering on the abandoned salad before he finally pushed it away with a sigh. It was a futile attempt to mask his unease, to distract himself from the turmoil churning in his mind. With a resigned shrug, he grabbed a double coffee to go, the warmth of the cup offering a fleeting sense of comfort amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead.
Together, they made their way back to the office, each lost in their own thoughts, the weight of their unspoken words hanging heavy between them like a shroud. As they stepped into the bustling chaos of the firm, Harvey couldn't shake the feeling of impending confrontation, a storm brewing on the horizon, threatening to engulf him.
The afternoon slipped away like sand through Harvey's fingers, too fleeting for his liking. Each passing moment felt like a countdown to the inevitable confrontation with Donna, a conversation he dreaded with every fiber of his being. His thoughts circled like vultures, picking apart the fragments of their friendship and laying bare the raw uncertainty that gnawed at his insides.
The thought of hurting Donna churned his stomach, a bitter taste of guilt lingering on his tongue. Would she react like Mike, with skepticism and unease, or would she see through his facade to the tangled mess of emotions beneath?
And then there was the nagging suspicion that maybe Donna already knew. Perhaps she sensed his intentional avoidance, the carefully constructed barriers he'd erected between them. The weight of "what ifs" hung heavy in his mind. Was he about to shatter her heart, to crush the fragile hope that lingered between them like a fragile thread? The thought made his chest tighten.
As the hours slipped by, his anxiety only intensified, each passing minute bringing him closer to the moment of reckoning. Would their eyes meet in understanding, or would they be consumed by the fiery tempest of anger and hurt? The thought of arguing with her made him sick to his core, but if it was the only way to protect her from the storm raging within him, he would steel himself for the inevitable confrontation.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the deserted offices, Harvey found himself standing at the entrance of Donna's office. The faint hum of the air conditioning echoed in the empty halls, a reminder of the late hour and the solitude that enveloped the firm. The absence of the usual hustle and bustle only served to amplify the weight of the task ahead.
He glanced around, noting the dim glow of a few remaining lights flickering in distant corners. Louis was probably still around, lost in his own world of legal minutiae, while Rachel and Mike might be lingering over some last-minute paperwork. But for Harvey, the quietude was a double-edged sword. On one hand, he hoped for solitude, a chance to deliver his news without interruption. On the other, the silence seemed to magnify the enormity of what he had to do.
Harvey's gaze drifted to the closed door of Donna's office, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. It was always a bit strange to think of her in this new role, as the COO of the firm. But deep down, he knew she was meant for greatness, her unwavering dedication and sharp wit guiding them through even the darkest of times.
The firm owed her more than they could ever repay, he realized. Without Donna Paulsen, they would have crumbled long ago, swallowed whole by the tumultuous waters of the legal world. Mike, Rachel, Louis—each of them owed their success to her unwavering support and guidance. And as for himself, well, he knew he owed her more than he could ever express.
With a heavy sigh, Harvey pushed open the door to Donna's office, steeling himself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. Whatever the outcome, one thing was certain: Donna Paulsen had left an indelible mark on their lives, and he would be forever grateful for her presence, even in the midst of uncertainty.
"You just made partner."
"We just made partner."
Fuck.
Donna's keen gaze caught sight of Harvey lingering at the entrance of her office, his expression veiled in a rare moment of introspection. A pang of concern stirred within her, a flicker of intuition whispering that something was amiss. She had noticed his subtle avoidance, the careful distance he'd maintained in recent days, and couldn't help but wonder what lay behind his uncharacteristic behavior.
At first, she had entertained fleeting thoughts of resentment, a gnawing suspicion that perhaps Harvey harbored lingering doubts about her career aspirations. But as quickly as the notion surfaced, she dismissed it. Their bond ran deeper than petty jealousy, and Harvey had always been her biggest advocate, cheering her on as she reached for the stars.
No, it wasn't resentment that shadowed his features, but something far more insidious. Donna prided herself on her ability to read between the lines, to discern the subtle shifts in those around her. And when it came to Harvey Specter, she was attuned to even the faintest tremors of emotion.
"Hey, Harvey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine concern as she rose from her desk to meet him.
Harvey's response was measured, his tone betraying a hint of nerves beneath the surface. "I wanted to talk to you about something pretty important," he admitted, his words carefully chosen, though the tension in his shoulders belied his attempt at nonchalance.
Donna's concern deepened as Harvey's words hung heavy in the air. She watched him carefully, her heart was fluttering and her mind was racing with a hundred unanswered questions.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, her voice soft with concern, her eyes searching his for any hint of what troubled him.
"It's not about work," Harvey replied, his voice tight with emotion, his heart hammering against his ribs like a caged bird desperate for escape.
"Okay," Donna replied, her hope mingled with a growing sense of dread. She knew Harvey well enough to recognize the gravity of his words.
"For several days, weeks actually, I've been meaning to tell you something," Harvey continued, his words tumbling out in a rush, each one heavy with the weight of confession.
Despite her furrowed brows and the turmoil she seemed to be facing, Harvey couldn't help but notice the way the lamplight danced across her features, casting shadows that only served to highlight the lines of her face. Even in moments of uncertainty, she remained achingly beautiful.
"Yeah, I um... I'm seeing someone, and it's pretty serious," Harvey confessed, his voice heavy with regret.
"Oh…" A twinge of disappointment seemed to pass through her eyes. But it disappeared just as quickly and Harvey saw her put a neutral look back on her face. She cleared her throat and forged ahead.
"Is everything okay with this someone? Because from the way you say it, it doesn't sound like good news," she said.
"Yeah, no, it's good news. It's just that... I know where this conversation is going, and I'm not sure I want it to go there," Harvey replied, swallowing frantically.
"Harvey, what aren't you telling me?" Donna's voice cut through the tension like a knife, her mind racing through the possibilities as she voiced her thoughts aloud. "Do I know her? Because it can't be Scottie, you wouldn't hesitate so much to tell me. In fact, I would have guessed it before you even walked through the elevator doors," she reasoned as she attempted to unravel the mystery. "So, if you're hesitating, it's because you thought I wouldn't approve of your relationship. But why wouldn't I approve of... Oh... Harvey Specter. Are you dating your therapist?" The realization dawned on her with a mix of shock, disbelief, and a hint of revulsion.
"How do you do that ?!" Harvey's voice cracked with a mixture of surprise and fear, his eyes widening in disbelief at her uncanny ability to read him like an open book.
"I'm Donna, I'm awesome," she replied with a forced smile, her facade a mask to conceal the storm of emotions swirling within her.
In his mind, Harvey couldn't help but acknowledge the truth in her words. "Yes, you are," he thought, a flicker of admiration mingling with the turmoil in his heart. But aloud, he simply nodded, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within him. "Yes, it's Paula. And she's not my therapist anymore, by the way."
A heavy silence settled between them, thick with unspoken words and tangled emotions. Harvey felt the weight of it pressing down on him like a leaden cloak, suffocating and oppressive. He shifted uncomfortably, the air thick with tension, as he struggled to find the right words to bridge the gulf that had opened up between them.
The conversation had taken an unexpected turn, veering into territory he had never anticipated. Each word seemed to hang in the air like a tangible barrier, separating them from the easy camaraderie they had once shared. He longed to escape the suffocating confines of the office, to flee from the discomfort that threatened to consume him whole.
This building, which had once been his safe place, his sanctuary, now felt like a prison, the walls closing in around him with each passing moment. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at his insides, a reminder of the mistakes he had made and the consequences he now faced.
And then there was Donna. He still couldn't get out of his head that he had thought of Donna while... He had used Donna to... Fuck, he felt like throwing up. The thought of it made his stomach churn with guilt and shame, a bitter taste rising in the back of his throat.
"Is everything okay? With Paula, I mean?" Donna's voice cut through the tense atmosphere. Harvey saw her eyes filled with genuine concern as she studied him. He knew she saw through his game: He was distant and preoccupied and there was no way Donna hadn't noticed.
"Yeah, I... Well, it's my first real-ish relationship, so I keep fucking shit up, as you can imagine but I'm trying… I think I really want it to work," Harvey confessed, his words tinged with a hint of vulnerability as he laid bare his struggles with his newfound relationship.
"Well, then how come you're doing so badly? If it's not about her, what's going on?" Donna's voice was gentle but insistent, her worry for him shining through her carefully composed facade. She didn't care much for his new relationship; her concern was solely for him, as it had always been.
"What do you mean?" Harvey questioned defensively, his walls rising instinctively in response to her probing.
Of course, she's going to push him into a corner, and he needs to find a way out because he can handle a lot of things in his life, but a disappointed and disgusted look from Donna, he couldn't handle that. The mere thought of disappointing her, of seeing that look of disgust in her eyes, sent a shiver down his spine, a cold knot of dread tightening in his chest.
"I mean, you have bags under your eyes, your signature on the documents is shaky, so you're drinking a lot more coffee than usual, and your shirts aren't as well cut as they used to be which means you've lost weight, and not just a little. So I'm asking you again, what's going on?" Donna's voice held a stern edge and her gaze piercing. He had to find a way to justify himself because Donna would never let this go.
Harvey felt a twinge of unease at her pointed observations, a realization dawning that he couldn't hide the extent of his struggles from her. She saw right through him, as she always did, her perceptive gaze stripping away the layers of his facade to reveal the truth beneath.
"Nothing in particular, I'm just tired. This new position is much more exhausting and stressful than anything I've done before. And I'm trying to stay in shape; losing weight isn't necessarily a bad thing," Harvey offered weakly, though he knew it was a feeble attempt to deflect her scrutiny.
"Okay, Harvey." Donna's response was measured, her tone tinged with a hint of skepticism.
He could tell Donna didn't believe a word he was saying and it wasn't like her to pretend otherwise. But she'd known him for years. She'd learned what trying to push him does. Maybe she'd do her Donna thing; she always did, and he would cave. He would tell her what was really going on. She was Donna, and he'd never been able to hide himself from her for long.
"If you're happy with Paula, Harvey, then I'm happy for you. It's always good to know that your heart is finally available for a relationship," she remarked, her words laced with a bitterness she couldn't quite conceal. It stung to see him ready for someone else when he had never been ready for her when she needed him to be.
Harvey's heart clenched at her words, a pang of guilt tugging at his conscience.
"My heart is too full of you to ever belong to anyone else," he thought, but he shook his head mentally. He couldn't let himself think that, he had made a promise to himself: to expunge the feelings he has for Donna. "Apparently making peace with my mother knocked down a few walls," he offered, half-hearted.
Donna's facade wavered for a moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she struggled to maintain her composure. "I'm happy for you, Harvey," she said, her voice betraying the ache in her heart as she forced a smile, her own emotions threatening to spill over. Her heart was shattering, piece by agonizing piece, but she knew she had to be strong, for him and for herself. She was slowly dying, but she wished him all the best in the world and kept smiling. Because that's what Donna always did. Put Harvey first.
They exchanged smiles, a fragile facade masking the turmoil raging beneath the surface. With a heavy heart, Harvey turned to leave Donna's office, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor as he made his way home. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the pit of his stomach, a nagging sense of guilt gnawing at his conscience.
As he walked, he pretended not to notice the tears glistening in Donna's eyes as he left her office behind. He couldn't bear the thought of confronting her pain, couldn't face the possibility of delving into the depths of their shared emotions. It terrified him, the prospect of opening that Pandora's box and unleashing the flood of feelings he had spent so long trying to suppress.
Besides, he reminded himself, he had Paula now. He had no right to linger, no right to offer comfort to Donna when his heart belonged to another. The thought twisted like a knife in his chest, a sharp pang of remorse piercing his resolve. He had once again earned the dubious honor of asshole of the year in Donna's eyes, and he hated himself for it.
But even as the self-loathing threatened to consume him, he clung to the belief that he was doing the right thing. He convinced himself that it was for Donna's own good, that she deserved someone who could give her the love and happiness she deserved. Someone who truly deserved her.
And so, he trudged onward, each step a painful reminder of the rift that had formed between them. He hated having to put Donna through this, hated himself for the pain he had caused her. But in the end, he told himself, it would all be worth it. She would find someone who truly deserved her, and things would go back to normal for them.
Or at least, that's what he desperately hoped.