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He was in his last year of law school when his entire life changed. It was spring break when he first saw her. It was a cool day in April, and the cherry blossom trees were beginning to bloom all along the river and in town. Some of the early bloomers were starting to lose their petals, and he had been caught under a few of the trees as he had a few petals stick to jacket. Of course, he only noticed after he snuck into the bar and decided it was warmer in here and he'd blend in better without a military-style black pea coat.
His father's band played in bars, but this one was far swankier than their usual establishment. He also couldn't help but notice that there was someone here already playing the piano. He was sure the bar didn't open until 4 and considering it was a band practice to get a feel for the gig, he wasn't sure what she was doing. But he waited in the shadows, and when she stood up from the bench and moved to the bar, he moved from the side entrance.
"Hey," he said as he approached.
The redhead behind the bar turned as she sipped a glass of iced water and her brow rose in greeting.
"Do The Spinsters play here tonight?" He asks.
"Yep," she nods and sets down a coaster on the bartop and her glass of water follows a second later. "They should be coming in any minute for practice."
"Cool," he nods. And, he chides himself for sounding like an idiot. "My dad plays saxophone in the band."
The redhead raises her chin and nods slowly.
"You're Harvey?" She asks as her brown eyes widen slightly.
"Yeah," he answers slowly.
"Cool," she answers, and he sees her flinch at her own words.
They stare at one another and the young woman breaks their staredown to look at the bartop.
"Uh, the bar doesn't open until 4, but can I get you anything?" she says to cover up her 'cool' remark.
"I can wait for the bar to open," he says with a smirk.
"You sure? Because I can just pour you a little something while I also get their drinks?" she says as she gets four tumblers from somewhere behind the bar that he can't see and she holds up a fifth glass and wiggles her brows.
"Fine, twist my arm," he laughs.
"Thought so," she says with a small smile.
He watches as she pulls the Macallan 36 and pours two glasses, and then heads for the Wild Turkey 101 to pour another three. She leaves one of the Macallan pours on the bar top and the sits the other on the stage next to the appropriate instruments and notice his father is the one who gets the Macallan.
"How'd you know what I'd want to drink?" Harvey asks as he takes up the tumbler in his grip.
"Somehow I imagined like father, like son," she tilted her chin, daring him to contradict her.
"Are you the bartender, then?" Harvey asks.
"No," she says, shrugging her shoulders and taking up her water again. "The band gets two free drinks. I don't drink so, you can have mine."
"You look like you're underage," Harvey points out.
"I'm 23, thank you," she points a finger. "And on that insult, I should probably change."
Harvey shook her head and watched her walk away with her water. A moment later, his father stepped through the door with the rest of his bandmates and began tuning up.
--
His dad thanked the band and the bar and introduced their featured guest after they finished a few songs.
Gordon explained that the young woman is a prodigy and we should all be thankful she decided to say 'yes' to join a bunch of crusty old men on their farewell tour.
Harvey watched as she pulled a couple sheets of music from the bench before sitting down but he had the perfect angle to watch her face. She didn't need the sheet music.
He watched as she tapped the tempo with her foot that wasn't occasionally charged with pressing the petal. She was like a burst of colourful music herself as she played the piano like he hadn't seen anyone do. Not that he had watched many piano recitals, but his dad was a connoisseur of jazz, and naturally piano followed suit.
He wanted the set to never end.
--
She did an accompaniment with his father, and he was amazed and also slightly amused.
He had listened to the song over and over again on vinyl. After all, it was one of the best singles that Boston broke for singles in music.
He laughed as his father and the redhead looked as if they missed their calling for a rock band and they swayed with the tempo, and he was pretty sure this was the first time he had ever enjoyed this song. He shook his head as he watched the younger woman mouth the lyrics to the song and his dad accompany her when there was a little less saxophone dependence in the accompaniment.
--
About an hour later, the bar had been standing room only with a lot of people looking like they were here for the pianist. Not surprising, really, Harvey thought to himself.
"Anyway," she laughs through her statement. "Here's Wonderwall to close out band night."
Clearly its an inside joke with the patrons as he watches his dad complete a full-on belly aching laugh as she pretends she's Elton John or something.
He watched as her finger splayed and moved with grace covering the black and ivory keys in varying octaves without any errors. Well, no errors that he could detect.
His dad is off the stage and watching his son become enchanted with the charming redhead.
Gordon slaps the back of his son before wrapping an arm around him and shaking his head.
"You got it bad for Little Miss Red," Gordon notes.
Harvey pffts like he doesn't understand what his father is saying.
The set is over, and the band gets their private, individual table, and Harvey is sat next to the redhead.
"Name is Donna, by the way," Donna says as she holds out her hand to Harvey.
"Harvey," he says as he grips her own and the shake lingers.
Donna releases his hand and then goes back to sipping her water and engaging his father with some sort of inspiration of what they should do better next time.
--
"You come here often?" He asks he stands in the shadows and watches as she simply turns to look at him and she doesn't break her song she's playing.
He moves to the stage and sits at the edge, listening to her transition from one song to another without a break. He hears the familiar tone of the "Pomp and Circumstance Marches" he had just been through a few hours ago.
"I'm pretty sure your dad would be mad you're here before him. And he may or may not be mad if you snoop to see the ice cream cake that definitely isn't in the freezer with a picture of you in your graduation robes," she says with a tilt of her head and a laugh.
She transitions to "Time to Say Goodbye" because he's leaving for New York City in a few months and while he may be dramatic one with words, she uses her piano. Well, her borrowed piano. Hers in back at her place. Her dad has finally given to her after years of telling him that she'd take it off his hands.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're dramatic?" He asks as he watches her laugh and switch the "My Heart Will Go On."
He shakes his head and waits for her to finish her dramatics before she vacates the piano and steals him away to the bar's freezer where there is indeed a picture of his yearbook photo on a large cake.
He's ridiculously popular, and she's amused by how many people are here to celebrate a graduation from law school but its a tremendous accomplishment, and he deserves all the praise.
She hangs out with Gordon, supervising at the outskirts. And father watches son, as son watches the redhead with what he believes to be surreptitious glances.
"Didn't you teach Harvey the art of the subtle glace?" Donna leans over to ask Gordon.
Gordon chuckles.
"As if Harvey ever listened to his old man," Gordon shakes his head.
The two laugh at the younger Specter's expense.
--
She's not sure why he's back in Boston, a year later on the day they first met. But she grills him about his professional life and maybe it slips that she talks a lot about him to her colleagues at the conservatory where she works part-time.
He wiggles his brows and leans in close.
"Admit it, you're into me," he says with confidence.
"I'm not into you, I'm Donna," she points out and pokes at his chest.
"I get it," he nods. "You love me."
"I am not in love with you, Harvey Specter," she says, staring him down.
He grins and asks if she can play something from Pride and Prejudice tonight at the bar with his father when they all go out to dinner.
She might throw her her book of sheet music at him as he exits her place to visit with his dad.
"Happy hour starts at four," he calls out.
--
It's his second Pearson Hardman Christmas Party, and when he's in Boston the week before, he asks her to be his plus one.
They're at her place that's basically a giant piano with a loveseat and a kitchen on the first floor. As always, she sits on the piano bench, and he's on her loveseat with the printed invitation as some proof he wasn't trying to kidnap her or anything.
He studies her when she takes the invitation from him. Her eyes have dark circles under them, and she's not sitting super straight like she usually does when she's at the piano. She looks a bit paler than usual, and he swore he accidentally woke her from a nap or something when he knocked on the door. After a year and a half of getting to know her, he can read the small details. It's weird. But the good kind of weird, he thinks.
"You don't want to invite your dad?" She asks jokingly.
"I love my dad, I do. But dancing with him is a little out of my comfort zone," he points out.
"You sure you don't want to invite whoever you went with last year?" She asks.
"I didn't go with anyone last year since you said no," he reminds her. "I did dance with my boss."
She raises a brow.
"She made the rounds. And, she's my mentor," he says as he reaches and snatches the invitation back from her hands.
"If you want, you can stay with me," Harvey shrugs like its no big deal. "We're basically renting out the hotel for the night with rooms, too."
She opens her mouth a few times to protest, but he's looking at her with wide eyes that look so hopeful and she relents.
--
Her hand is clasped in his own as he skirts the outside of the party that's at The Peninsula New York. Pearson Hardman has rented out Salon de Ning, the Sun Terrace, and the Gramercy venue rooms at The Peninsula with different appetizers and buffets at each room. They had essentially booked half the hotel and venues for the night and into the morning. Lawyers, Donna thinks. They certainly know how to live it up.
He watches as she lights up the room. Her smile seems to be infectious with his boss and his rival-sometimes friend. He tells her who to avoid and who he wants to avoid talking to if she decides to leave him and someone takes that as an opportunity to come and talk to him.
She calls him a baby but rescues him three times anyway.
She dances the waltz with Louis and Harvey Specter is amazed all over again.
He wonders if she was a professional dancer. Ballet, perhaps, with the light footwork as she makes Louis seem like a professional.
When she's back in his arms, her cheeks are pink and her heart is racing as she gives a full-bodied laugh and kisses his cheek for all to see.
His ears turn a slight pink but he's proud nonetheless.
--
It's 10:30 pm, and they don't have to go far because he's rented the Peninsula Suite and she hides her face in his suit jacket as she notices, of course, he'd book the room with the piano.
"There are two beds," he says as he places the key near the door at the table where he's sure he won't forget it if he has to leave the room. "I wasn't, um, I wasn't being presumptuous."
He hears her little chuckle, and he watches her make her way around the extravagant space.
Her fingers run over the polished keys, and she rubs them together. Its almost as if they've put some sort of cleaner that disinfects but also leaves a residue.
She pulled out the bench and sat, her fingers ghosting over the keys as she swam a little in his tux jacket she still had on.
He got goosebumps at the minor fall and the major lift. His brow furrowed, wondering why she'd be playing such a sombre song. His eyes followed her fingers as they moved up and down octaves and her head swayed in tune with her own rhythm she created with the piano. Her soft, gentle sway moved to a faster tempo as he felt the song slowly come to an end from all the years he's heard it play and the goosebumps once again made themselves known.
He had sat down somewhere in between her starting the end and actually ending, and he didn't remember it at all. His feet moved on autopilot, and he was suddenly sitting next to her on the bench, watching as she held the final keys until the tune stopped ringing in the silence.
He heard the hammers fall back into place and he heard her pull in a few breaths next to him.
"I'm dying, Harvey," she whispers through tears. "You can't fall for me. You're not supposed to be in love with me."
He shakes his head as if that negates everything.
"It's too late," he whispers back.
Her lips are chapped. Raw from worrying between her teeth and years of absent concentration as she practices perfecting the gentle brush of her fingers against the keys. But that doesn't matter to him as he reads her face a moment before he leans in.
He kisses her, as they sit side by side on her piano bench. The angle is a little awkward as she still sits with her fingers on the keys and he's simply tilted her chin up.
--
The day she was last estimated to live to according to her first doctor, she's up and sitting on his couch with a cup of tea in her hands, and one of the lights dimmed as she sits in silence against him as he leans against the back of the armrest on the couch.
As the clock strikes 12:01 am the next day, she almost spills her tea as he whispers happy un-birthday, kisses her fully on the mouth, and she laughs against his lips.
It's been the most terrifying, exhilarating two years.
And she wants it to never end. She wants it all. She's never been greedy but she can't help it.
But she doesn't tell him.
--
"There are some pioneers of new research here," she says as they take a short walk through Central Park on his coffee break.
She had come to his office to let him know of the news she'd be moving to New York City, and he offered his place. She asked if he realised that now she's past the expiration date, it could be for the short or long haul.
He countered he knows full well what he's asked and the offer stands.
She told him she'd make a pro-con list and get back to him.
He thought she'd ring him up, but no, she's making a gesture by being here.
He can see that she's tired so he asks if she'd like to come back to his office to sit until he's done with work and they can then grab a bite.
She meets Jessica Pearson and Louis Litt again that day when she switches between sitting in a visitor's chair and going through his record collection.
A week later, he shuts down traffic as a crane lifts her Steinway into his condo via the balcony. Luckily it was going right inside the sliding glass door where his small dining table used to be so it's less than a 90-minute traffic delay.
When he returns home from work one evening, he finds her sitting on the piano bench, her fingers ghosting over the keys but no sound coming out.
"Teach me the song," he says as he sits shoulder to shoulder with her on the bench.
"Which one?" She asks because he's heard her play a number of songs in two years.
"The one you play with my dad," he lets her know. "The Sound of Silence."
"I have a feeling that's going to be more work than I imagine," she notes.
"Are you calling me musically challenged?" He scoffs.
"I'm not sure how neither you nor your brother have an ear for music," Donna sighs.
She's bribed with the promise of cookies and cakes and dinners. And thus begins the year-long process of teaching him the piano accompaniment to "The Sound of Silence."
--
"I can feel it," his voice announces proudly over the phone line.
He hears her chuckle down her end.
"You think Junior Partner is in the cards today?" She reiterates.
"I mean, I'm pretty much the legal superhero thanks to this case," he reminds her.
"I forgot, please, forgive me," she chides.
"Nope," he teases and hears her laugh again.
The line is silent, nothing but the sound of her breathing and he closes his eyes for just a moment and imagines himself there and not stuck here in New York City.
"I'm scared, Harvey," she says so quietly he almost thinks he imagined it.
His eyes well with tears but he looks up, covering the mouthpiece as he breathes in and out.
"I told you," he says, trying to keep his voice even. "It's going to be routine, and then I'll come, and we can celebrate my success."
He hears her nervous chuckle, and he breathes again.
"The sachertorte better come first class from Vienna, then," she reminds him.
"Only the best for you," he quips.
"I should go," she whispers.
"'Kay," he says, matching her tone.
She pauses, and he can hear her on the other end.
"You know I love you, Donna," Harvey reminds her.
"How unfortunate for me," she laughs down the line, and he can't help the smile.
"I love you, Harvey," she whispers so softly that he nearly misses it because a second later, there's a click.
They don't say goodbye; they always say see you later.
--
A few hours after Jessica Pearson informs him that he makes Junior Partner, his father is in his office waiting for him. It was unusual, considering he's supposed to be in Boston.
"Dad?" He questions and watches his father rise from the visitor's chair.
He thinks that Donna's rubbed off on him too much because he's looking his father up and down and his heart's already plummeted fifty stories into the ground.
"No," he shakes his head as soon as he sees the emotions written across his father's face. "I just talked to her this morning."
Gordon tries, but he can only bow his chin.
"When?" Harvey asks.
"Harvey," Gordon gets out.
He had been walking out of the meeting at 3 pm and felt something settle within him. He had paused before hitting the rotunda and looked around but moved a minute later as the longer he stood around here, the longer he'd have to stay and fill out all the paperwork.
"Oh, my god," Harvey whispers as his tears build and spill.
He tries to get more out but he can't. His mouth spasms every time he opens it, and his dad stands with a hand on his son's shoulder. He brushes it off in frustrated grief, and he moves to the roof where the sunset is bright and bold and everything she loved. He unlocks his phone and takes a picture as the clouds roll and are illuminated with the golden and almost violently bright orange colours. He thinks she'd love it. She'd be standing outside, leaning against the balcony rail and holding her hair up to compare the fiery glow against her own fiery locks asking him who wore it best.
He cries again, tears rolling down his cheek, leaving tracks as the catch in the corner of his mouth. His nose gets stuffed, and he breathes in deep, releasing it in a shuttering breath.
--
Her father collects her things and rings his door that same night.
His eyes are shot, and although neither are huggers, they embrace, and Harvey invites the older man inside.
Jim Paulsen doesn't know what to do because all her things are here in this condo that doesn't belong to him and he just wants to hoard everything. As he imagines Harvey Specter wants to do, too. Jim passes him an envelope with his name on it. He thinks his father and her own would understand why he’s not up for company tonight as he moves to the bedroom.
Harvey pays for everything. Her medical bills. Her few outstanding expenses. Her funeral. Her father tells him he doesn't have to but stops mid-sentence. The man knew his daughter refused to marry the man because she didn't want him to be attached to someone with an expiration date much shorter than his own. So, if he wanted to do this, Jim Paulsen couldn't really stop him. After all, his daughter did let him know what Harvey Specter wanted, he got... eventually. Well, everything except for the one person he'd probably give up everything for to have back in his life, for the rest of his life.
--
It's a month after when he finally opens the letter. It hurts. It hurts every goddamn day. But today was her birthday, so he figured it was only appropriate.
In the envelope, there's a note. He breathes and opens the tri-folded letter and notices her script.
Dear Harvey,
It feels weird writing you a letter when you were just here with me. You're an awful person. Cocky, arrogant, a bit of an asshole. The first time I saw you watching me, I was awkward and drove you to laughter as your dad, and I rocked out as only one can on a saxophone and piano. Yet, the moment I played the first note, you stopped, and your mouth dropped but in surprise instead of laughter. You didn't ever let up. I tried to quit playing, but you were this annoying influence in my life. How awful is that? Cocky, arrogant, asshole! When I found out that my doctor transferred to Cedar-Sinai and that I'd have to live in New York City, I was elated. I wouldn't be so far away from you anymore. You wouldn't have to take the train or car to Boston every weekend. I just wanted to watch you grow and become the best goddamn lawyer I've ever seen. You're also an idiot, you know? I just wanted to watch from afar yet you found a space for me to slip into somewhere along the way. I've had this for as long as I could remember. I was regularly treated as an outpatient but sometimes ended up in and out of the hospital anyway. I quit Julliard because I spent more time in than out. I knew that I wasn't very well. So, I ran for it. I wanted to play music on my own terms for however long I had left. I didn't want to regret anything. I began playing scores my way. And somehow your dad liked that, and one thing led to another, and suddenly I became that piano-playing weirdo that liked piano and saxophone duets. I told a single lie during that time: Donna Paulsen is not in love with Harvey Specter. That's the lie I told. I didn't want you falling in love with me. I know, what a ridiculous thing to say. After all, I'm Donna...Everyone loves me. I'm sorry. I always meant to be someone who's just passing through and will be gone. You are stupid and stubborn, more so than I imagined. And, you were just as soft and gentle as I thought you would be under that tough facade. You deserve to be happy, Harvey. You gave me three more years than I was supposed to have and I don't know how to repay you for that. It's funny. As I write this, the most unforgettable scenes are the most trivial. I hope that all the moments come to you, too. Was I able to live inside someone's heart? Was I able to live inside your heart? Will you remember me, at least a little when I'm no longer here? There are just a few more things before I go: I love you, Harvey Specter. I'm sorry I wasn't able to celebrate your rise to Junior Partner and finish all the sachertorte. I'm sorry I hit you in the stomach so much to force you to sit up straight when you attempted to play the piano. Sorry I was such a crybaby. A million times over... I'm sorry. Thank you, for everything.
P.S. I'm enclosing something that I've treasured the last five years. If you don't want it, feel free to tear it up, throw it away, burn it in the fireplace. You have a flair for the dramatic, so I'm sure you can come up with a scenario that best fits to do what you will.
I love you.
Donna
The image is a black and white photo of the two of them sitting side by side at her piano. A photo his dad had taken when he assisted in her move. Assist being he sat with Donna on the couch and made fun of his son and his demotion to manual labour. Looking at the photo, he has his fingers on the keys with intense concentration, and she's laughing at him as she has one hand on the keys and another between them, directing him where to go as he plays what she does, two octaves above her.
He thinks that if he ever forgets her, she'll come back to haunt him. So, no, he won't ever forget her. He won't really ever love another despite her wishes for him to do so. He wears a band on his finger, and he frames the picture and sticks it in his office where he looks at it every single day.
Donna Paulsen was his first and only love.
--
There's one day in April he stays at home and disconnects from everything. He sits on the bench and fingers the keys. There's a lump in his throat as he presses the pedal closest to him and his fingers stretch on the ivory keys before him.
Her piano is still perfectly tuned and will be for as long as it sits with him. He plays the one song she taught him as he plays the recorded version of her and his father on the record player. He's so much slower, but he finishes with only a few mistakes and swallows the lump in his throat.
"I guess I wasn't hopeless after all," he whispers to the stillness, a small smile on his lips.