Harvey's attention was pulled away from his work email when his daughter ungracefully slid into the back seat of the town car and plopped her bags down onto the floor.

"You're late, dad," she whined.

Still distracted, Harvey smirked as he finished typing. "At least I picked you up from soccer practice today, Lizzie."

"Technically Ray picked me up."

Pressing send on an email, Harvey then stuffed his phone into his pocket. "And who pays Ray?"

Lizzie shrugged. "You get brownie points for trying, I guess."

"Thank you for that. Speaking of brownie points…" his words trailed off as he pulled out a Starbucks gift card and handed it to her. "This should be enough to get you a few of those fancy drinks you like."

Lizzie took the card, taking note of the amount, before she raised an eyebrow. "This isn't enough."

With a wry grin, Harvey pulled out a second card and handed it to her. "That's why I have this one."

Before he knew what was happening, her hazel eyes scanned him from head to toe in a way that never failed to make him uncomfortable. She stopped at his hair and then gasped.

"You're ditching me tonight!"

"No, I'm not," he lied.

The girl crossed her arms over her dirt ridden jersey. "You're wearing your favorite blue suit and your hair…wow. That's way, way too much product, dad. You're obviously trying to impress someone."

For a minute, Harvey was speechless. "Listen, I know it's last minute, but your aunt Jessica is making me have dinner with a potential new client tonight. His name's Derek Wilson and he's a huge catch if we can get him."

"Who cares? It's Survivor night. We always watch it together."

Harvey ran his teeth over his bottom lip. "I know, kid. I'm sorry, but Louis is going to come over and hang out with you. He's been talking non-stop about girls' night. He's been bugging me for weeks. And you can order any food you want. Even if it's junk."

With a dramatic sigh, Lizzie leaned her head back against the leather seat and shut her eyes. "I know what you're doing."

"What am I doing?" Harvey feigned innocence.

"You're just buttering me up so that I can't stay mad."

Harvey's mouth curled into a wide grin. "Is it working?"

Lizzie's eyes popped open. "Ugh! You're the worst!" she snapped, but a small smile soon formed across her own features.

Hoping that he had dodged a bullet, Harvey reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "I really am sorry. You know that, right?"

"I know, dad. It's okay. You don't have to feel guilty."

Harvey's eyes widened at her ability to read him so accurately. "How do you always do that?"

"I'm Lizzie. It's what I do."

Memories of his ex-wife assaulted his mind in quick succession.

"I'm Donna."

The memories weren't new territory for him, but it never failed to leave him gasping for air. Suddenly hot, he fiddled with the air vent and stuck his finger under his collar to get some relief.

Lizzie watched him in concern. "Are you okay?"

Harvey nodded and tried to calm his breathing the way he had learned in therapy. "Sometimes you're just so much like your…" realizing what he had just admitted to, he didn't finish his sentence and slammed his mouth shut.

"Like my mother," she finished for him.

Harvey cleared his throat as his pulse slowed. "Yeah."

They rarely spoke about her. He found it too painful and Lizzie hated to see him upset. Instead, they preferred to live with the metaphorical elephant in the room.

While Lizzie became distracted by the passing city scenery, Harvey fought down the urge to pull out his phone and return more emails. It wasn't just Donna that plagued his thoughts, it was Anna too. Living without them was hard. Wrong or right, he took full responsibility for his broken family.

His phone buzzed to life, bursting against his pocket, but he silenced it just as quickly. The work distraction would do his mind good, but he had let work get in the way of his happiness once before. He refused to make that same mistake again. Lizzie came first.


The following Monday brought a biting wind to the mid November air. Weather wise, Autumn was officially gone and replaced by the early days of winter. Harvey, bundled up in his Tom Ford jacket and cashmere scarf, hurried down 52nd street with his junior associate, Mike, at his side.

Their favorite coffee cart was out of bagels, leaving them no choice but to walk two streets over for their breakfast.

"I just don't understand why Louis still hates me so much. It's like he resents my existence." Mike practically had to yell to be heard over the wind tunnel that the office buildings created.

Harvey pulled his leather gloves out of his coat pocket and took his time putting them on, straightening them until they were just the right fit across his fingers. "Stop worrying about Louis. Louis hates everyone. Except his cat. Come to think of it, he may even hate his cat, too."

"He's a menace."

"Louis?" quipped Harvey. "Or the cat?"

"Why not both?"

"Listen, I need your focus to be on drafting the Wilson contracts, not on Louis. Wilson takes priority."

Mike groaned. "I heard you the last ten times you told me." He stopped abruptly in front of a small coffee shop and pointed towards the front door.

"I heard this place was good."

Harvey's pulse sped up as he laid eyes on the faded brick building with an equally faded sign. The blue letters were peeling off, making it hard to read, but he knew what it said. Parker's Coffee. He could never forget.

"Have you been here before, Harvey?"

Harvey swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. "Not for a long time."

Mike watched a few people come and go from the humble looking shop. "Well, it can't be that bad. It's my turn, so I'll get our orders."

Relieved that he didn't have to go inside, Harvey waved him off and moved to stand under the weathered awning. He shifted from foot to foot to relieve the nervous energy that was thrumming though his body.

His last time in the coffee shop, years ago, he had been one part of a four person family. Now, it was just him and Lizzie. The puzzle would never be complete again. Harvey kept his back turned so that he was facing the street and not the coffee shop. Afraid of the ghosts he may find in the reflection of the glass door, he couldn't bring himself to look at the place.

To his left, a sudden flash of red hair swept past his gaze. It happened so quickly that he thought he imagined it. He turned just in time to see a familiar 5'9 woman step towards a cab that had pulled up a few feet away.

His pulse quickened and his breath hitched. It's not her. His mind insisted. It wouldn't be the first time that a redhead had stopped him in his tracks. As if she could feel his eyes on her, she suddenly turned, scanning the people rushing past her on the sidewalk and his stomach dropped. There, dressed in a tan trench coat, with waves of curly red hair cascading down her shoulders, was Donna Paulsen. He was sure of it.

Harvey couldn't move. His legs were glued to the pavement. Donna, the woman who continued to plague his thoughts so many years later, was standing before him. From his spot away from the crowd, she hadn't noticed him. He wanted to call out to her, but what would he even say? He was paralyzed with self doubt, and he could do nothing but stare at her like an idiot. Seconds felt like minutes. Minutes felt like hours.

The cab driver eventually shouted an angry obscenity in her direction to get her moving and she gracefully folded herself into the cab.

"Donna?" Harvey blurted out. His brain finally got the message to his legs to make them move, but the cab had already pulled away. He ran a few feet in the hopes of catching another glimpse, but the cab was long gone, and so was she.

It was impossible to know how long he stared after her. Eventually, a paper bag filled with bagels thumped his shoulder. "Here's your dark roast with a splash of vanilla," Mike taunted. "Please tell me how you, Mr. 'feelings are for the weak,' ended up with such a girly drink order?"

As if on auto pilot, Harvey took the drink, but it was impossible to focus, not when his mind was filled with memories of a past life. "My uh, my ex-wife, she…" he couldn't finish his thought. He didn't even know what he was trying to say.

Mike stared at him with big blue eyes. "Dude, are you okay? You're not stroking out on me, are you?"

"Yeah, sorry, I just thought I saw someone." He focused on steadying his shaky hand as he took a sip from the paper cup. "Let's go."

Mike fell into step beside him. "You've been so weird lately. Are you sure your mind isn't going old man?"

Slowly, Harvey was able to push thoughts of Donna away by focusing on work. The trick had always worked in the past. "You wish," he deadpanned. He hoped that it would keep working.

They continued their trek back to the office, with Harvey jerking slightly at every taxi cab that cruised by and Mike eying him warily.