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The door swung open, and Donna’s eyes travelled up from her book to see her husband walk into the dimly lit bedroom. It was late at night. Harvey was still wearing the clothes he’d gone to work in that morning, sans suit jacket and tie, the latter of which he was holding in his hands as he headed towards their walk-in closet.
“Mike told me to tell you that we need to bring a gift for the—”
“Mike told you to tell me?”
Her attention was now fully on Harvey as he disappeared through the doorway to the right of her, continuing the conversation even though they couldn’t see each other.
“Yeah.”
“And why wouldn’t Mike just tell you?” she placed her book on the bedside table as Harvey’s figure re-emerged in the doorway. He was just in a pair of grey sweatpants, hanging low on his hips and in his hands was the t-shirt he was about to slip on. Donna had to take a beat to refocus her train of thought as he slipped the shirt over his head and the muscles of his abdomen flexed as he stretched to slide his arms through.
“I don’t know, Donna,” he said in that way that let her know he didn’t really care.
“Maybe,” a smile snuck onto her lips as he came to settle on her side of the bed, “Mike’s realised that you’re a terrible gift giver.”
Harvey’s soft gaze narrowed, and his lips parted for a moment, but he didn’t seem to be able to say anything for a second. “Wait, what?”
Her smile widened and turned smug. Donna sat back against the pile of pillows at the head of their bed and admired the dumbstruck look on his face.
She had accepted the mediocre gifts he’d bestowed up on her for birthdays and secretary’s days when they’d first started working together. However, it became quite obvious after a while that if she wanted to start enjoying her presents, she’d have to start buying them herself. Typical.
But once she’d started making liberal use of his credit card to treat herself to designer bags, spa days, and custom jewellery pieces— she’d started looking forward to the next occasion. In fact, Donna had gotten so good at shopping with his money that he had delegated all gifting for his friends and family to her for a few years.
“You are, Harvey. It’s one of your only flaws, to be fair,” a small giggle fell from her lips.
“I was under the impression that you thought I was perfect,” he blinked.
“Let’s not push it,” she rolled her eyes as he climbed fully onto the bed, shuffling over to his side, and pulling the covers down. He settled, still looking a little annoyed. He was quiet for a beat and then—
“See this?” he grabbed the baby monitor on his bedside table showing it to her, and she rolled her eyes, knowing which line of argument he had chosen. “I gave you a daughter, Donna,” he said incredulously.
His smile betrayed his fake annoyance. “I may have started slow… but I finished strong.”
Donna felt her resolve melting as his arms wrapped around her. She peered up at him, “Does that even count if I had to carry and grow her for nine months?”
“Hey. I did my part,” he chuckled. “And she’s your favourite thing that I’ve given you. I know that for a fact.”
“Like there’s any competition,” Donna shook her head, pulling out of his embrace for a moment. “And your part,” she made air quotations with her fingers, “was what? Fifteen minutes.”
Harvey’s jaw dropped for a moment, the amusement sparkling in his eyes. “Come on! You know it wasn’t fifteen minutes,” his voice dropped an octave. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, imploring her to be serious.
“Fine. Twenty minutes.”
Harvey observed his wife, shaking his head in disbelief. “So ungrateful,” he muttered.
Donna leaned up and captured his lips slowly, leisurely tasting him like she was so used to doing in the evenings. His arms tightened around her waist as she hummed softly into their kiss.
“Fine. You’ve given one good gift in fourteen years. I’m right, though. Unless you’re planning on giving Mike a baby, you still need my help,” she shut him down.