A week had passed, and her name was no longer on the door. Most of her furniture was gone too. "Human Resources procedure", a janitor told him. The empty office next to his served as a constant reminder of her absence, not that he needed it in any case.

She had chosen to leave. Her resignation letter lay in his top drawer, untouched because he knew that mere act could lead to the urge to chase after her and tear that letter up in front of her, but deep down, he knew it was too late. He had made his choice, and despite his attempts to find a solution that would work for both of them, he had failed. He had already made his decision. He had struggled to find a solution that would benefit both of them, but he couldn't. Although there was no perfect alternative, he believed there was a fair decision or something similar to fairness that he could argue for. He made a promise to a woman he chose to be in a relationship with, convincing her to face their demons together despite her initial reluctance. His loyalty, what he considered to be the best of his assets, had been put in jeopardy when Donna kissed him and walked away. So he was clear that, despite his feelings for Donna, she was the one who had put him in a position where he had to choose between them. Needless to say the situation was far from ideal. He despised change and hated that she was gone, taking all the blame when he couldn't fight for her. Twelve years together were reduced to just a letter, and that didn't seem fair either. He called her twice that night, but she didn't answer. She only responded with a couple of messages the following day, letting him know she was okay.

Returning home to Paula that evening felt like a punch to the gut. Her satisfaction with his decision was evident, and that didn't sit right with him. "Change is good," she said, and he had no choice but to agree. But another empty office, another departed name in a firm that was supposed to feel like family, didn't seem like evidence of that.

A week later, the only thing left in Donna's office was the desk. Everything else had been packed away. He stood in the same spot where they had held hands after her promotion to COO, the memory of that moment bittersweet. At the moment he realized that her new role meant a significant shift in their relationship; his needs were no longer going to be her priority. She was breaking free, emancipating from him, and while he knew it was time for her, it still frightened him. He had grown accustomed to being just twelve feet from her for fifteen hours a day. But seeing her smile as she decorated her new office had made it all seem worthwhile.

"So... this is why you called my office old-fashioned?" he said as he entered her new space, watching her unpack ornaments.

"Harvey, everyone knows leather sofas are vintage and uncomfortable… not to mention your endless collection of vinyl and not a decent piece of modern art. Your office looks like a cave," she shot back, half-smiling, clearly focused on her task.

"Well, I've never heard you complain about my sofa when you took your necessary naps," he teased.

"Only because I used your creepy expensive lounge chair," she retorted, laughter bubbling between them, a shared secret that only they understood. As he moved around the room, testing the lighting, he stopped at the desk. "Is this old-fashioned too?" he asked, picking up the can opener resting in the surface of a box.

"Very... old-fashioned. Haven't you heard there are electric ones now?" She reclaimed it, placing it back in the box, intending to unpack it later when she could process this change alone, without Harvey present.

Sadly, that was just a memory now.

Before leaving the office, curiosity got the better of him. He opened the first drawer of her desk, surprised to find the can opener nestled at the bottom. No clips, no pens—just the can opener. The janitors were supposed to clear everything out, but either they had overlooked it or she had deliberately left it behind. He didn't want to dwell on what that inanimate object might symbolize, yet the thought that she had chosen to abandon it tugged painfully at his heart. It was their thing, a ritual they had shared, something only they truly understood. It had been a reminder of her unwavering support during most trials. Harvey, who had always believed in hard work over luck, couldn't step into a courtroom without performing that silly routine with the can opener. It wasn't just about luck; it was teamwork and loyalty, a secret and a code, encapsulating their shared history. It was amusing how the can opener always ended up in her hands, as if she had carried the weight of preserving their bond. But not anymore. He pocketed it, and just as he turned to leave, Louis walked in.

"I can't believe she's gone like that... after everything we've been through. She left us for what? A better salary?" Hurt laced Louis's voice, and Harvey could see the pain in his eyes.

"She must have had her reasons, Louis. You don't have to judge her," Harvey replied, the weight of his own conflicted feelings pressing heavily on him.

Louis crossed his arms, frustration etched across his face. "Reasons? What could possibly justify walking away from everything she built here? From us?"

"Sometimes people need to make choices that aren't easy," Harvey replied, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. "It's not always about the money or the title."

Louis let out a heavy sigh, "You think this was her choice? You think she wanted to leave? I watched her work herself to the bone for this firm."

"Maybe she needed a fresh start," Harvey suggested, though his own heart ached at the thought. He tried to convinced himself that was true.

"Sure, but it didn't have to mean abandoning us," Louis shot back, his voice rising. "We were a team. We were family."

Harvey paused, the weight of those words settling over him. "We don't know what was going through her mind, Louis."

Louis shook his head, still unconvinced. "And what about you? You were supposed to have her back. It feels like you just... let her go."

"Louis you don't know what I did, or did not, so please enough about this conversation" Harvey said, the tension in his chest tightening.

Louis softened slightly, the anger giving way to concern.

"Well, it's not fair," Louis said, the fight draining from him. "This isn't how it should have gone down. Not after everything we've been through together."

"I know," Harvey replied. "I'll miss her too, you know. It's just... complicated."

Louis nodded, the realization dawning that this wasn't just about Donna. It was about them all, about the fragile nature of the relationships they had built. "If you ever want to talk—about any of it—you know where to find me."

"Thanks, Louis," Harvey said, offering a small, grateful smile.

As Louis left, Harvey took one last look at the empty office, memories flooding back—late nights, laughter, the camaraderie that had filled those walls. He turned to leave, the can opener still in hand, feeling the loss settle heavily in his chest. The weight of what had been and what could have been was a reminder that change, even when necessary, often came at a steep price.

"I think we need to start thinking about who will get this office. If you ask me, Ted Bunter is doing great and deserves to be promoted from the 48th floor," Louis suggested, attempting to shift the focus of their conversation, moving next to his office.

"What? No, Louis. There's no rush to promote anyone here yet, especially after all the changes," Harvey countered defensively.

"Okay, Harvey, whatever you say, but we can't leave this office empty forever. In other news, I'm here to inform you that if you need me today, I'll be busy kicking Zanders's ass." With that, they moved their discussion into Louis's office next door.

"And who the hell is that?" Harvey asked, irritation creeping into his voice now.

"He's Sheila's fiancé and a senior partner at Skadden Arps. I'm going personal with him; actually he's going personal with me," Louis replied, his tone steely.

"No," Harvey shot back, his determination clear. He barely processed Louis's words.

"What do you mean, no?"

"Louis, I don't need to remind you how badly you handle personal stuff. We can't afford to lose against Skadden Arps after what just happened with Jessica," Harvey stated firmly.

"Harvey, I was here to inform you, not to ask for permission about which case I take or not. I've never done that before, and I'm not going to start now," Louis retorted, his voice rising.

"Louis, we've been through a lot. We look weak in front of the world. You lose, and we're done."

"That's exactly why I won't lose. My honor is at stake here, too." After a long pause, Harvey relented.

"Okay, Louis. I trust you."

He knew that if Donna were there, she would agree with him on this. But the truth was, he didn't want to antagonize Louis further; he was the only one who didn't resent him. The rest of the firm, especially Mike and Rachel, who probably had a clearer picture of the Donna situation, didn't even give him the time of day. The atmosphere in the firm was tense. No one would believe he was still the managing partner. There was a palpable absence; Donna's energy was missed, and they no longer felt like a family.

With so much weighing on his mind, he found a new case to occupy his time. Mike helped, but only minimally. Each day, he found himself going home earlier than ever to cook for Paula. He recalled a time when his apartment felt more like a cave than a home, a mere shelter where he recharged energy for another day at the office. His primary relationships were at work; waking up and going to the firm had been his entire life. Now, after work, it's done. There was no one to stay and talk with, no one to share drinks or meals. It started to feel al little bit like loneliness, a feeling he recalled from his childhood and youth after the abandonment he experienced, but he stopped feeling like that when he started working at Pearson Hardman, and specially, since her… He had to take a moment to reminded himself he had Paula. He was in a serious relationship for the first time in years. He knew he had to take care of that, so he decided to surprise her with her favorite dinner. "Change is good," he thought, echoing Paula's earlier words.

Later that week, after a heated argument with Mike over their case, Harvey returned to the office in a foul mood. He needed Louis to check a document, so he headed straight to his office. Upon entering, he found Louis staring out the window, lost in thought.

"Hey, Louis, do you have a second? I need you to take a look at this," Harvey said, holding out a paper. Louis turned, his expression troubled.

"Harvey, before you ask anything, you need to know that I lost against Zanders," Louis said, his voice strained.

"What?" Harvey's surprise was evident. "You heard. But before you say anything, let me explain—"

Louis wanted to explain, but Harvey cut him off, his temper flaring. "Explain to me what, Louis? What the hell are you going to say when I specifically told you why you shouldn't follow this case and you ignored my advice?"

"Actually, I didn't—", he tried to explain, but again he was interrupted

"You didn't what? You didn't listen. You never do! It's always the same with you, putting your needs above everyone else!" As Harvey's anger boiled over, he continued, "You wanted to compete with your ex-girlfriend's fiancé just for your honor. And look where that got you! You couldn't even honor your name on the wall!"

"That's enough!" Gretchen stepped in, her voice sharp as she pointed a finger at Harvey. "I don't care who you are, but if you don't leave this office now, I swear to God you'll have an empty firm tomorrow."

Harvey took a step back, realizing he had crossed a line. He retreated to his office, the hurt in Louis's eyes haunting him. If Donna had been there, she would have navigated this storm for him and explained his emotions. But she wasn't, and that was the problem.

Later, Gretchen entered his office with a letter in her hands.

"What is that, Gretchen?"

"It's Louis's letter of resignation."

"What?"

"I encouraged him to do it."

"What is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the problem here. You didn't let him explain. He didn't lose the case. He won, but before he could close the deal, Sheila came and asked him not to do it. And so, he did."

Harvey took the letter but didn't even open it as he watched her walk away. Guilt washed over him. He had lost control again. He had to fix this. He couldn't let anyone else leave him like this.

He walked into Louis's office and found him staring out the window, murmuring softly to the urn.

"I didn't even read it Louis. You can't go… I'm sorry, Louis."

Louis looked at Harvey, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. Usually, he would care about Harvey's thoughts, but not this time. He had lost something much more important that day.

"To be honest, the least I care about now is my job so If you think I can't serve the firm's best interest, I can just find my way out of here," Louis replied, his voice shaky.

"That's not true, Louis. I accused you of being selfish when it was the complete opposite. I shouldn't have snapped at you; I should have listened. You didn't deserve my anger. I'm truly sorry," Harvey said, taking a step closer, his tone softer.

"Well, she asked me to let it go, and I felt I had to do it for her. I know it was wrong, but she's my soulmate… and she wanted to be happy with someone else. I didn't tell you before because I knew how you felt about it, but we were seeing each other behind Zander's back. I thought maybe she'd change her mind and choose me." Louis's voice cracked, his vulnerability laid bare.

"I'm not going to judge you, Louis. I know how complicated relationships can be," Harvey reassured him. "But the truth is, if she can't see the kind of man you are after everything you've done for her, then I'm afraid she doesn't deserve you. You put everything on the line, that shows how much you value her. You were willing to sacrifice your career for her happiness."

Tears filled Louis's eyes. "I'm going to grab some drinks," Harvey murmured, seeking comfort from his friend.

Harvey walked down the dim corridor toward his office as he felt the heaviness of Louis's words. He paused at Donna's empty office door, wishing for a glimpse of her, checking for her presence might somehow change the reality of their situation. He thought about how he and Louis had ended up in the same situation but from completely opposite perspectives. Watching Louis so devastated over his loss made Harvey reflect on Donna and how she must have felt. He was a fool he hadn't seen it clearly before, but now, with Louis's pain fresh in his mind, everything was different. He lingered there, contemplating how she had sacrificed everything for him, all so he could find happiness with someone else.

With his heart heavy, he pulled out his phone, hesitating as he stared at her name on the screen. He took a deep breath and pressed the call button, the pulse of hope rising within him. But it ended in disappointment—voicemail. Again. In the past two weeks, he had reach the voicemail more times than he ever had during her entire time at the firm. Each unanswered call felt like another brick added to the wall between them, reinforcing the distance that had grown in her absence.

He turned to grab drinks for Louis but froze when he saw Sheila rush in from the elevator, heading straight for Louis's office. Harvey stayed froze from afar watching the scene as Sheila entered. He couldn't hear their conversation, but the expressions on their faces told him everything. Sheila looked relieved, and Louis's face lit up with an emotion he hadn't seen in days. They embraced tightly, and Sheila whispered something that made him smile through his tears. Then, Louis cupped her face and leaned in to kiss her.

Harvey knew what was happening, and he smiled to himself for his friend—thankfully, Sheila had come to her senses. Yet, he couldn't shake the bitter feeling knowing he hadn't done the same with Donna. The ache in his chest deepened as he realized he had let her down in ways he couldn't even begin to comprehend.