A/N: Heeeey :) Sorry for the delay, but here's the new chapter. Hope you enjoy it!
Every time Donna steps onto the stage, as soon as she has the chance, she looks out at the audience. It's something her first theater teacher had taught her—to connect, even for a moment, with the people she's sharing her art with. So, after delivering her first lines, she turns her head towards the audience, and for a moment, she thinks she's imagining things, or maybe going crazy.
But she is not. Harvey is there. She blinks enough times to make sure of that. Not only is he there, but he's staring at her as if there's nothing and no one else around. And after having felt for so many months that he wasn't even able to look at her, she feels shaky. Her breath catches in her throat, and stupid tears threaten to flood her eyes—a mix of sensations overwhelms her. She realizes she should have delivered her lines a few seconds ago, so she takes a quick gulp of air and decides to use this rollercoaster of emotions for her performance. It's the only way out she has right now.
After leaving the stage, she rushes to her dressing room. Closing the door, she leans against it and feels the need to fill her lungs again. Harvey is there, and from what she could see, he doesn't look angry, upset, or furious. He simply looks like the Harvey she can recognize—after a long time—as her husband and best friend. And realizing that, processing that this is what she saw in him from the stage, feels like an immense wave of peace. If he's there, it's because he's finally ready to talk. And that's all she's been waiting for all this time.
"You sent him?" Donna quickly texts Rachel.
"What? Who?"
"Harvey."
"Harvey's there?"
"Yes, and I wanted to tell you that when I saw him in the audience, I almost forgot I was performing up there. Did you send him and not tell me?"
"No, Donna. Neither Mike nor I knew he would be there tonight. If he's there, it was his idea."
Donna isn't sure if that answer reassures her or makes her more nervous, but either way, she needs to get back on stage. She's decided that tonight she'll perform just for him. Harvey can't be there simply to watch the play. She knows that. If he's there, it's because he's waving the white flag, and she's also willing to wave her own white flag.
The night goes on, just like the play. In the moment of the final greeting, Donna couldn't help but seek him out with her gaze once more. The way he smiles at her and applauds truly makes her legs weak, making it impossible for her not to return the smile. He knows that this small exchange of glances and smiles is a positive sign, easing a great weight off his shoulders. She's open to him too. However, his applause isn't just for that; it is also a display of pride swelling in his chest as he watches her onstage. Harvey has only attended the play on opening night, and if he were honest with himself, amidst everything that had unfolded, he scarcely recalled anything about the story or Donna's character. It's now, in this moment, that he finally recognizes his own selfishness and foolishness. Donna looks ethereal up there, in a manner he had never witnessed within the confines of their office—never before. His wife radiates on stage, exuding happiness and confidence as if that spotlight belongs to her... And he had attempted to snatch it away from her. He's the most selfish man on the planet, and Donna was right about every shit she yelled in his face. He no longer has any doubts. He needs to make it right for once. She deserves the best from him, and even if he's still doubting a damn lot about himself, he's more than willing to try it again. So, he leaves the place to wait for her outside. While he does it, he checks his phone.
"Have you finally got your shit together, dude?"
"What are you talking about, Mike?" Harvey replies with a goofy smile on his lips.
"Donna texted Rachel. Sort your shit out, and don't forget to use protection tonight."
"That's advice big brothers give to little brothers, not the other way around, so shut your damn mouth."
"I often get confused about the roles here. My bad. Or your bad? You're the one who looks like the little brother here."
"You're such a comedian, Mike."
"Can you go find your wife now, you idiot?"
"I will, Mike. I promise."
Harvey tucks his phone back into his jacket pocket and heads toward the theater's exit, feeling like a teenager about to ask his crush to the prom.
People hurry out of the venue while he lingers for a moment. Of course, he'll go find his wife, but he needs one more minute to summon some extra courage.
Donna rushes back to her dressing room after the play, removing her makeup and changing her clothes as quickly as she can. She does it rapidly for two reasons: she feels damn nervous, and she doesn't want Harvey to leave before she can catch up with him.
But when she exits the theater, she huffs at the rain hitting her hair. She also huffs because she finds no trace of Harvey there. That frustrates her, although not for long.
"Excuse me. Do you need a ride, lady?" Harvey asks with a mischievous smile after parking the car close to her and rolling down the car window.
She stares at him for a second, and though she can't deny she's really happy to see him and willing to talk to him, she also needs to know they won't be going back to their old antics and that he's not here to assume she's going back home just because he asks her to.
"Why are you here, Harvey? I mean, it's not that I'm not glad to see you, because I am, but I just—" She speaks by waving her hands too much, a sign that he knows how to interpret well: she is as nervous as he is.
"Listen," he interrupts softly. "I know things are not okay right now, and I know we can't just magically fix them, but these past few days have been hell, Donna, and I guess I just..." He struggles with finding the right thing to say, like he always does, and the sigh she lets out gives him the final boost he needs before she walks away from him. "You're not only my wife, Donna; you're also my best friend. And right now I really need my best friend."
Donna can't help but smile; he sure knows how to talk his way into her heart; he always has. Nor can she prevent a stupid flutter in her stomach because he's here, and he's smiling at her like that. "Okay, that would be nice. The rain is awful for walking anyway." She replies, clasping her hands in front of her, trying to calm down a little. It's at this moment that Harvey notices a detail—she's still wearing the ring. Even though she has to take it off for the performance, she keeps putting it on afterward. That eases his nerves. He thinks it's a good sign. He hopes so.
"And it ruins your hair too, doesn't it?" Donna can't help but giggle as she nods her head. "Come on, get in the car," Harvey invites her, unlocking the door to emphasize his point.
"Alright," Donna agrees, opens the door, and steps into the car. After she fastens her seatbelt, an awkward silence falls upon them as they both feel their stomachs knotting and heartbeats quickening. "So...what did you have in mind?" Donna asks, not daring to look at him, her gaze fixed on the windshield, watching the raindrops fall and race each other down the glass.
"I think..." Harvey replies nervously, scratching his temple. His nervous tone is so endearing to Donna that she can't help but turn to look at him. "Like I just said, I missed my friend," he says with as much casualness as they used to do a long time ago. "And I thought inviting her for a drink after work was a good idea. I mean, it's been a while."
"Yes, you're right about that," she replies with a slight smile.
"Except... Well, I can't have a drink. I don't know if you're aware, but I've had a little problem and have been in the hospital for a while. I can't drink alcohol yet," he says with a playful tone, enjoying how he's making her laugh. "So, I don't know, would you accept going for some smoothies?"
Donna nods with a smile. "Yes, smoothies sound good." Harvey exhales in relief as he starts the car again, and Donna can't help but smile even more.
Harvey navigates through the traffic while she puts on some music to lighten the mood. While doing so, she spots one of her earrings among the things in the car.
"Oh my god, I've been looking for this earring for weeks. I thought I'd lost it," she says, taking it between her fingers.
"I found it on the car floor a few days ago."
"Well, thanks for rescuing it," she says with a smile, reaching for her wallet to put it away. It's good to know that he saved it and not throw it away.
"Anytime, Donna," he replies with another smile, his eyes on the road.
Donna tucks her earring and then her wallet away and settles into her seat. She knows where they're headed, and she knows they'll have several minutes in the car before they arrive. Even though she wants to keep her eyes forward, she can't help but glance at him. While she knows he's not entirely at ease right now—she can see he's as anxious as she is by the way his fingers grab the steering wheel or his slightly clenched jaw—she gets lost in his features. He's back to being himself, and that makes her happy. Memories of him in the hospital still haunt her and seeing that he can drive again, that his shoulders are more relaxed, his cheeks flushed with color, and his features free from pain certainly brings her a lot of joy.
"Do you need to turn up the heat?" Harvey asks with a gentle tone.
"No, I'm fine," she replies, though she hadn't even noticed her current temperature. She was too engrossed in him.
Upon arrival, Harvey parks as close to the entrance as possible and gets out of the car first, opening an umbrella to shield Donna from the rain as he walks around the car.
Donna smiles, her smile seeming to be larger than her face. They both know very well what it means for him to be opening an umbrella for her. It's another sign of a white flag, another sign that Harvey is willing, a gesture that takes them straight back to months ago when they were still a happy couple. And that's all she yearns for right now—to find their way back to that happiness.
Harvey offers her his hand, and she takes it gratefully, relishing the warmth she always finds in his hands. As he shelters her with the umbrella, she steps out of the car, and he closes the door behind her. Sharing the umbrella forces them into a physical closeness that sets their nerves on fire, and it's so blatantly obvious to both of them that pretending it's not happening requires a damn effort. But they manage. Or that they think.
Once inside, they find the most secluded available table and settle there.
"For God's sake, I hate rain more with each passing day," she grumbles in frustration, checking the state of her hair on her phone.
He chuckles; it's been too long since he's seen her do that. "And what if you stop worrying so much about your hair?" He teases her lightly, hoping she'll take it in stride.
She playfully rolls her eyes and puts her phone away. "That'll happen the day you leave the house without shaving. I mean, never."
Harvey laughs, accepting her playful jab. "Alright, alright."
And just as Donna is about to respond, a waitress approaches with the menu.
"Good evening. No need for a menu. One strawberry smoothie for me," Harvey says, looking at the waitress but sneakily checking Donna's reaction.
"Oh my god, are you seriously gonna do that?" Donna asks with a giggle.
"Yep," Harvey replies matter-of-factly.
"Alright. Another one for me, then," Donna interjects, and after receiving a nod from the waitress, she departs. Taking a moment to settle her purse on the seat, she uses it as an excuse to gather her thoughts, placing her hands folded on the table. Her gaze returns to him. "I've been worried about you," she admits, letting the words spill out without much preamble. "And I'm glad to see you're doing better," she adds, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "What happened scared me too much," she murmurs, a hint of shyness creeping into her tone.
Donna's confession catches Harvey off guard, stirring within him two contradictory emotions: the desire to hold her close again and a crushing sense of his own foolishness. He hadn't even considered that she might be worried about him. How could he have been so blind?
"It's okay. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. It's just that..." She interrupts his thoughts, compelling Harvey to respond.
"I'm sorry," he admits, guilt heavy in his voice. "I didn't expect you to say that just now." He clears his throat, averting his gaze to the table. "I've been so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn't even consider that you might—" He closes his eyes tightly, feeling unworthy of someone like Donna.
"Worried about you?" she echoes softly, and he nods. "Harvey..." She exhales, surprising him with her lack of anger. "Look at me, please." He obliges. "No matter what happens between us, I'll always, always be worried about you," she assures him with sincerity, her words tightening his throat. "I don't know; maybe it's a professional habit? Being your secretary meant worrying about you even in my sleep," she adds, attempting to lighten the mood because neither of them desires a profound conversation in this setting.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "I'm much better. As you've seen, I can drive now. My recovery with the physical therapist is improving, and yes, physically, I'm much better."
"I'm genuinely glad and relieved to hear that, Harvey," she responds, extending her hand palm up across the table. Harvey smiles, placing his hand on top of hers, their fingers intertwining as they relish the warmth and the sense of being home once more.
"Thank you, Donna," he murmurs.
"Of course, Harvey," she murmurs back.
When the waitress brings their smoothies to the table, they both take a few sips in silence, allowing a few moments to pass to ease the tension a bit. They need it.
"Where have you been?" he asks in a friendly tone.
"At the Four Seasons."
"Oh, of course, I should've guessed. Their breakfasts and spa are your downfall."
She chuckles softly. "Yes, I might have eaten too much of that apple pie these days. I'm not sure it was a good idea."
"And in the meantime, I've been having breakfast with decaf coffee…"
"You haven't gotten used to it yet?"
"No, I even tried adding vanilla. But it's still horrible."
"Well, maybe the problem isn't the coffee. It's that you never learned how to make it."
"That's because you never wanted to teach me!" he says, about to burst into laughter.
"Excuse me? You never wanted to learn, which is completely different!" she replies, managing to keep a straight face.
"Well, I guess I'll have to be willing this time. Maybe it can work better." He says, sounding serious again and letting her see that his words have a double meaning, something Donna has no trouble identifying.
"I trust it will," she responds, knowing that Harvey needs that boost of confidence before they continue with a night that they both know will be turbulent.
Donna and Harvey sip their smoothies while engaging in a friendly conversation. Donna shows Harvey the photos she's received of Lucy in recent days (no matter how much the child may grow, Louis never stops sending her pictures of his goddaughter all the time) and also tells him about a proposal she received from her theater company for the next season. Harvey tells her more about his recovery, shares his plans to return to the office next month, and promises her more than once that he hasn't let any of their plants die.
As they leave the place, the rain has stopped, and they realize they haven't planned their next step. They both want to talk at the same time, which makes them laugh.
"You go first," Donna says to him.
Harvey nods, filling his body with air and courage with a deep breath. "I want to talk to you, Donna. Seriously talk. And I'd like it to be tonight."
Donna, unlike Harvey, exhales deeply, emptying herself before responding. "Alright, I want to talk to you too. This situation isn't doing me any good."
"Do you want to come home?"
Donna shakes her head. "I'd prefer to go to the hotel, a neutral place." She requests, knowing that there, at least, it will be a bit harder for her to yield to him. It's not that she wants to make it difficult for Harvey; she just needs a truly sincere conversation, and she believes a hotel would work better.
"Alright, whatever you need," Harvey responds with a smile and heads towards the car. She nods and follows him.
Once inside the car, Harvey decides to break the silence with some music again, knowing it's better not to have the pressure of needing to fill the space with anything else. The hotel isn't far, so they hope to arrive soon.
"I'm sorry, it's a bit messy," Donna says, opening her room with the magnetic key card to enter.
"Yes, when you say that, it's never messy," he tells her, walking behind her and enjoying the little chuckle she offers in response.
"Well, you know me," she shrugs, letting him in before closing the door. And then, without saying anything, she walks hastily towards the bed, picks up the clothes she's left there, and puts them in the closet. She paces back and forth, straightening up a few things that aren't in their exact place. She seems nervous and agitated, not knowing how the hell to approach this, even though she's been imagining it for days.
"Hey, hey..." Harvey steps into her path to stop her. "Don't forget we've lived together for years, Donna. It doesn't scare me if you leave something out of place." He tells her calmly, hesitating about whether to have physical contact with her right now or not. He doesn't really know how to act either.
"It's this between us that scares me, Harvey," she confesses, her voice teetering on the brink of breaking, her lower lip trembling with emotion.
"It scares me too, Donna," he admits, dropping his forehead onto hers, seeking solace in that simple connection.
"Hug me? Please," she whispers, her plea hanging in the air. Harvey doesn't hesitate. He envelops her in his arms, drawing her close, allowing her to find refuge in the contours of his body. Donna exhales deeply, seeking the familiar tranquility she has always found in his embrace, yet making a concerted effort to restrain the tears that threaten to overflow.
"Hey," Harvey whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, his own emotions threatening to spill over. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Donna," he murmurs, his voice breaking as he draws her nearer.
"Harvey—" she sobs, unable to articulate anything further, finding peace simply in holding onto him. Their hug is laden with a mix of emotions, profound and contradictory, as if they are clinging to their world on the edge of detonation, knowing that it must rupture to pave the way for a new beginning. "Harvey—" she repeats, pulling back slightly.
"What is it?" he inquires, tenderly wiping away her tears with his fingertips.
"Can you give me a moment to go to the bathroom? I'm sorry, but I need to put on my glasses; I can't bear the contact lenses anymore." She says it with an awkward laugh.
"Of course, I'll wait right here."
When Donna returns, Harvey is sitting on the bed, his legs apart, his torso leaning forward, with his elbows balancing on his thighs. Hearing the bathroom door open, he lifts his gaze and smiles when he sees her.
"I really like how those glasses look on you," he says lightly as if he were just giving a daily compliment to his wife.
Donna wrinkles her nose. "I've had these new ones for months already."
"I know," he shrugs. "But I hadn't told you before." He says it with a little embarrassment. "I really like how glasses look on you."
"Thank you," she replies and sits down beside him. "You know I don't like them too much, but I couldn't stand the contact lenses today."
"Trust me, it's my completely neutral opinion. They look beautiful on you," he says, laughing, and she can't help but join in.
Without uttering another word, Donna rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes. "So..." she exhales deeply. Harvey intertwines his fingers with hers and tenderly kisses her forehead. "How are we supposed to untangle this?"
"Well... I thought you were the one who always knew what to do," he says with a playful tone, attempting to inject a bit of levity into the situation. However, Donna doesn't receive it as such; she pulls away from him abruptly, rising to her feet.
"Tell me you're joking, Harvey!" Donna's voice trembles with a mixture of frustration and sorrow.
"Hey, hey! It was just a joke; of course, I was joking," he defends himself, standing up and moving closer to her. But Donna continues to back away, her fists clenched tightly at her sides.
"Do you realize it's always the same, isn't it? You always expect me to know, to guess, to adapt to you, and I'm tired of it, Harvey. I can't take it anymore," her words come out in a rush, fueled by the pain of feeling misunderstood and unappreciated.
Harvey nervously scratches his forehead, searching for the best approach to diffuse the tension. "Okay..." he exhales heavily, taking a step towards her and standing directly in front of her. "It was a joke, Donna, I promise," he murmurs, longing to envelop her in his arms again, but Donna steps back sharply.
"No, Harvey. This is not how things work!" She explodes once more. "I've made so many mistakes with you. I guess I let you get confused, and that's my fault too," she says, her voice choked with tears, her hands and lips trembling as if mirroring the turmoil within her. "But this is not a joke for me. I didn't leave our home because of a damn joke," she screams, her voice breaking. "And you won't fix this with another hug or by trying to have sex with me and pretending everything is okay again!" she continues to yell, consumed by her own emotional storm. "If I left home, it's because I can't bear this situation anymore. I'm not happy like this; can you get it?" Her voice rises with her tears, making it difficult for her to breathe properly.
"Donna..." he says calmly, a calmness that either she envies or detests. He steps forward to stand before her once more, placing his hands on her arms and giving her a gentle squeeze, locking eyes with her. "Can you breathe? Please," he pleads softly.
"No," she retorts, a mix of annoyance and laughter bubbling up within her.
"No?" he chuckles too.
"No, I won't accept you taking on the role of peacemaker here," she insists, unable to suppress another laugh, which he joins in on.
"Well, you've taken on that role for too long. It's okay if I take it on now," he says calmly, raising his hand to wipe away her tears gently. "And it's okay if you need to keep yelling at me to release your anger. I'll accept it if that's what you need."
She can't help but smile despite herself; that man always manages to break through her defenses. "I don't really want to yell at you. But..." she exhales again, taking a step back from him. His proximity clouds her thoughts. "Harvey..." she stammers, then sits down on the edge of the bed, removing her glasses, which are fogged up from tears, and hides her face in her hands, succumbing to her emotions. "Oh God," she chokes out, feeling utterly lost. She had thought she had everything figured out. She had believed she could have a mature conversation with her husband. She had thought she possessed the emotional strength to resolve their issues without spiraling into an emotional whirlwind again. But damn it, she was wrong. "I can't, damn it," she says, filled with frustration.
Harvey moves the bench at the foot of the bed until it's in front of her and sits there, facing her. Gently, he wraps his hands around Donna's wrists. "What can't you handle?" he asks calmly, his demeanor a stark contrast to his turmoil. She raises her hands even higher, completely covering her face. "Hey," he whispers. "Please talk to me."
"I don't know if I can handle this, Harvey," she confesses, her eyes and soul drowning in tears.