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The evening of December 23rd, the corridors of Pearson Specter Litt were silent. The associates had deserted the offices hours ago, but the light in Harvey’s still persisted. He hadn’t moved since Esther had come by to sign the divorce agreement he’d just negotiated. The young woman had suggested they go out for a drink, but he had declined the invitation. He had wanted to say yes. It would have been the perfect distraction. Esther was pleasant, funny, and intelligent. He could have forgotten everything for one night, but the truth was that nothing could make him forget Donna. Even in the middle of the negotiation, his client arguing with her soon-to-be ex-husband, all it had taken was for his eyes to land on Donna for everything else around him to disappear. As if his universe had this unhealthy reflex of refocusing on her. As if his attention were no longer wired to function any other way.
They hadn’t spoken since the day before, when they’d argued again. It was like they no longer knew how to communicate any other way. At least from his point of view. His best defense was offense. It was the only thing he knew how to do, and Donna wasn’t an exception. Everyone had always taken the hit. Hurt before being hurt. That could be the title of his autobiography.
And as if that weren’t enough, Christmas was fast approaching.
It was his second most hated holiday after Thanksgiving. Family gatherings made him nauseous. He would never have said no to spending time with Marcus and the kids, but the thought of sitting at the same table as Lily was beyond his strength. Like every year, he would make a substantial but cold and impersonal transfer for the children and call his brother once the holidays were over.
Nevertheless, ever since Donna had come into his life, Christmas had been a little more sweet than bitter. They’d had their tradition for 12 years: every Christmas Eve, he’d have dinner at her place. She would cook a delicious dish and he would bring an expensive bottle of wine that they would finish on the couch after dinner. On the morning of the 25th, she would fly out to see her parents, and he would spend the day at home listening to his father’s records.
But not this year. This year there would be no Christmas Eve at Donna’s. No slow-cooked meat. No wine perfectly matching the meal. No bursts of laughter on the couch. No innuendo, no extra glass making them play with the invisible line they had sworn not to cross.
This year, Harvey had just stomped all over the damn line.
“You know I love you, Donna.”
The perfect example of one-too-many drinks going off the rails.
“Love me how?”
He didn’t want to answer that question. He couldn’t allow himself to answer that question. He refused the consequences his answer might bring. He would lose her for sure. Yet, even though he hadn’t answered, he still felt like he had lost her.
When his phone rang, he had lost track of time, but it was dark outside and he was convinced Marcus was calling to negotiate a family Christmas. The youngest in the family were always the most naive.
He picked up mechanically, without paying attention to the number on the screen.
“Hello?”
“Am I speaking with Harvey Specter?”
Harvey frowned at the unfamiliar voice. Definitely not Marcus. He pulled the phone away to look at the number, but it didn’t give him any more information.
“Who’s asking?”
“Mount Sinai Hospital. You are apparently the emergency contact for Ms. Donna Paulsen.”
Harvey had never experienced this, but he knew that the words hospital, emergency, and Donna in the same sentence wouldn’t bode well. His brain turned to mush. He couldn’t think. He was barely able to speak. Everything became blurry in his mind. He didn’t remember how he managed to keep the conversation going. He heard only snippets of it, as if he’d left his body and was only an observer of the scene.
Accident. Car. Injured.
That was all he’d retained from the conversation and it was more than enough.
“On my way.”
He stood up quickly but couldn’t take a step and grabbed hold of the desk to avoid collapsing. His breathing was ragged. His vision blurry. Drops of sweat beaded on his forehead. It wasn’t the time for a panic attack. He frantically searched the pockets of his jacket for the pills Dr. Agard had given him, but realized he no longer had them, having thrown them in the toilet a few days ago.
Damn, he was so stubborn.
He loosened his tie, letting it fall carelessly to the floor, and unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, desperately searching for air his lungs refused to take in. Somehow, he managed to pour himself a glass of water, and its coolness soothed him for a moment. He forced himself to take a deep breath. He couldn’t afford to throw up. He didn’t have time for that. He had to get to the hospital and get to Donna. She needed him. This might be the moment she needed him most in 12 years. If he didn’t do it, then what the hell was he doing?
His breathing gradually calmed. He clung to that thin stability like a lifeline. He reached the elevator and, once outside, hailed a cab.
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When he arrived at the hospital, Harvey had completely calmed down. Well, the panic attack had calmed down. His breathing had steadied, his vision had stopped blurring and his hands were no longer shaking. But the gears in his head kept spinning like a mad machine, ready to explode.
In what state was he going to find Donna? What exactly had happened? Was it serious? Was it minor? Was she conscious? In a coma? In surgery? Had her head been injured? So many questions he needed immediate answers to or he would burn this damn hospital to the ground.
Harvey headed toward the ER reception desk, where a nurse was on the phone. He was already fidgeting with impatience, and the young woman seemed to be taking her time, getting even more on his nerves.
When she finally hung up, he didn’t give her time to look up before snapping at her.
“Donna Paulsen.”
She raised an eyebrow like she was used to handling impatient idiots.
“Hello, sir,” she said, overly polite.
“Hello. Paulsen, Donna. Where is she?”
The young woman sighed at his lack of civility, but Harvey didn’t care. She had surely seen worse, and he needed to see Donna.
“I suppose you’re Mr. Specter?”
He simply nodded, his jaw clenched to the maximum to keep from firing an incendiary remark. He was so close.
“Ms. Paulsen is still in the ER. A doctor should see her soon—”
“Should? She hasn’t been examined yet?!”
“Sir, your wife will be fine. She may need to stay here a few days, but she’ll be okay.”
Wife.
That managed to stop him in his tracks, but he did nothing to correct the nurse. If the misunderstanding could get him to Donna faster, so be it. And besides… The word didn’t sound bad. He shook his head internally, refusing to let that thought go any further.
“She’s in the last cubicle on the right,” the young woman said.
He didn’t bother thanking her and rushed to the indicated spot. He walked past several cubicles, realizing that “cubicles” were really just beds with curtains for minimal privacy, and his nerves tightened with each step as he realized Donna didn’t even have a room to rest in.
Reaching the last cubicle, he pulled the curtain aside harder than he meant to, making Donna jump. She looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, clearly surprised to see him here. Her face had a few cuts here and there, but nothing serious at first glance. She was holding her arm close to her, and he couldn’t tell whether it was her arm or her ribs that hurt. Finally, a bandage covered her forehead and went around her head. She looked exhausted, but okay. In one piece. Conscious. Alive.
“Hey,” he said, approaching her. He took her face in his hands as if to reassure himself that nothing serious had happened to her.
“Hey,” she replied automatically. “Harvey, what are you doing here?”
“The hospital called me. They told me you’d been in a car accident.”
She gently pushed his hands away, and Harvey couldn’t help but feel rejected. “I told them they didn’t need to call you. I’m sorry, I forgot to change my emergency cont—”
“Change it? Why? I thought it was just work and you wanted us to stay friends?”
“That’s what I wanted, yes, but you made it clear that professional and personal relationships are the same thing to you, so what am I supposed to think?!”
“Donna…”
He didn’t get the chance to argue, a doctor burst in. He walked up to Donna, asked her simple questions, examined her thoroughly, and Harvey scrutinized his every move, ready to jump him at the slightest sign of discomfort from her.
“We’re going to run some tests since we're pretty sure you have a concussion,” the doctor concluded as he stepped away. “A nurse will come get you.”
Concussion? What the hell was he talking about? She looked fine. So it was more serious than he thought. Damn it. He felt his pulse speed up. A head injury was never good. It could get worse. Her condition could deteriorate. He forced himself to take a deep breath and did what he did best to keep panic from taking hold.
Fight.
“She needs a room,” he said to the doctor who was about to leave.
Donna tried to step in. “Harvey—”
“Now.”
“Sir, we’re going to run tests.”
“She’s in the middle of constant noise here, how is she supposed to rest and recover?!”
“Sir, she may be able to leave after her examination,” the doctor suggested. “If she is concussed, we need to know the severity. If it's bad enough, she may need to remain under observation.”
“In a room.”
“Yes, in a room,” the man sighed, clearly tired of Harvey’s attitude.
“Spacious, private, and comfortable enough for her to get proper rest.”
“I’m a doctor, not a housekeeper.”
Harvey stepped closer, not in the mood to laugh. “Then spread the goddamn word,” he hissed, enunciating every word to make sure the man understood this was no joke.
“Harvey!” Donna raised her voice, making him turn around, and the doctor seized the opportunity to escape. “Please, stop.”
“What? You need calm.”
“Exactly, and right now you are the exact opposite of calm.”
He sighed, tried to release some tension, and grabbed a stool to sit next to the bed.
“Go home, Harvey. I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine. You have a concussion.”
“I wasn’t alone in the car, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” he said, furious again. “And that taxi driver is lucky I’m busy here or he’d already be getting sued!”
“It wasn’t his fault,” she defended him. “That guy came out of nowhere and cut him off.”
He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, there’ll be lawsuits for everyone.”
“No one could’ve avoided it…” she murmured, looking down.
He guessed she must have been terrified at the moment of impact, but she needed to understand that everyone was to blame here except her.
He leaned toward her, elbows on the edge of the bed, their faces so close he could feel her breath. He waited for her to finally lift her eyes.
When she did, he added, deadly serious: “He was driving and you were in the car. He should have known.”
She was his priority. That was all that mattered to him. The rest of the world would pay for hurting her.
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As Donna was undergoing her MRI, the images of her accident came back to her. Nothing truly clear. More like blurred snapshots. She remembered leaving the office, saying goodnight to Louis, and stepping into the elevator. She remembered getting into the taxi and greeting the driver. She remembered the headlights blinding her so much that she’d lifted her hand to shield her eyes. She remembered the sound of the impact and the shards of glass flying inside the car. Above all, she remembered that her last thought before losing consciousness had been for Harvey. She cursed herself a little for thinking of him. She had a family. Friends. Passions.
But at the end of the day, it was always Harvey.
Apparently it wasn’t enough to think about him, because now he was here. She didn’t know what to make of it. She was Donna. She was supposed to know everything but these past few weeks, she couldn’t read Harvey anymore. She didn’t know how to act around him or what to expect. One day he told her to leave and pushed her away, the next he asked her for help. One day he used her to scare Louis, the next he helped his sister make amends. One day he treated her like a stranger, the next he ran straight to her side when she had an accident.
One day he told her he loved her, and the next he took those words back.
He had been impossible to understand these past weeks, but God, how relieved she had been to see him just minutes ago. Relieved to have a familiar face near her. Relieved that their last exchange wasn’t an argument. Relieved that he was taking charge of everything, even if it meant terrifying half the hospital staff, because she had felt incapable of doing it herself. Yet she still couldn’t stop being defensive.
Everything always had a price with Harvey Specter.
That was her state of mind when she entered her room. The results weren’t as good as the doctor had hoped. A swelling had formed, he had explained, big enough that they wanted to keep her under observation to make sure it went down properly.
Harvey was already waiting for her in an armchair that had clearly been designed to torture anyone who dared sit in it, but she found it strangely comforting that he was still there. A nurse pushed her wheelchair toward the bed and Harvey stood immediately, his movement almost instinctive. He helped her with a tenderness that tightened her chest. His hands were firm yet cautious, guiding each of her movements.
She felt the mattress against her back, then Harvey’s hands adjusting the pillows, smoothing the blankets, checking that she wasn’t too cold. Simple gestures, but painfully intimate.
The nurse took the time to explain what would happen in the next 48 hours, but Donna couldn’t focus. Her voice seemed to float in the air, distant and muffled. All she could really perceive was Harvey. The way he stood close to her. The way he never took his eyes off her. The way his face still seemed marked by worry.
“There’s a call button beside your bed if you need anything, and your husband knows where to find us in case of an emergency.”
My what now?
She was too stunned to respond. She watched the nurse leave, and Harvey didn’t even seem to notice. Why wasn’t he just as shocked as she was? What was wrong with her? Had her head hit that hard?
“Tell me I didn’t make it up and that you’ve heard it too.”
He frowned as he sat back down in the chair next to her. “What are you talking about?”
“She said ‘your husband’ as in husband and wife?!”
“Oh that…” He scratched the top of his ear. He always did that when he was uncomfortable. “When I got to the ER, the person thought you were my wife and… I didn’t correct her.”
“Why?!”
“I don’t know, she probably assumed that because I was your emergency contact and—”
“Not that! Why didn’t you correct her?!”
“Because… it was easier. Maybe they wouldn’t have told me as much. Maybe they wouldn’t have let me stay here tonight. Apparently, only lovers are allowed to be worried. It didn’t occur to them that we might just be friends.”
“Are we?”
“Donna…”
“Last time I checked, you were treating me like a complete stranger,” she said bitterly, remembering their last exchange. She had been so furious at how he’d behaved toward her.
“That was before—”
“Before what? Before I had an accident?”
“As a matter of fact, yes!”
She let out a humorless laugh. “I don’t need a knight in shining armor.”
“No, you need rest.”
“You’re not helping.”
“You’re not trying!”
“I—ah!” She pressed her hands to her forehead, a sharp pain was throbbing at her temples.
Harvey jumped from his chair. “Hey, talk to me, what’s going on?”
“Just a headache.”
“Donna, you have a concussion. It’s not just a headache.” And without waiting for an answer, he pressed the call button.
The same nurse as earlier entered the room. Harvey spoke first while Donna still had her head in her hands. “She has a headache. Fix it.”
Donna would have facepalmed if her head didn’t feel like it was about to explode.
“Headaches are common. To put it simply, she has a bruise in her head, so headaches are a symptom that can worsen with stress or anger,” the nurse explained, pointedly looking at Harvey.
Donna saw him lower his eyes, almost ashamed for having upset her, but he said nothing. Harvey and apologies did not exist in the same sentence for her.
“It’s fine, thank you,” she said, turning to the nurse.
“You sure?”
Donna understood the hidden meaning behind that question. She was implying that she could make Harvey leave, that she only had to say the word. But annoying and stubborn as he was, she wanted him here.
She nodded, and the nurse left them alone again.
“Try to sleep, I’m staying here,” Harvey murmured as he sat back down.
Donna didn’t answer, exhausted by their argument and the pain. She turned her head away from Harvey and closed her eyes.
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It was around 7 the next morning when Donna woke up with an urgent need to use the bathroom. Considering the pain and her stiff muscles, the night hadn’t been too bad. Harvey was still by her side in a position that looked incredibly uncomfortable. His suit jacket had long been abandoned, and his shirt was untucked. Asleep, he looked… calm. She could observe him without the mask. The real Harvey. Disheveled. Dark circles under his eyes. Not as peaceful as someone asleep should be. Why? Was it work? Maybe Esther’s divorce wasn’t going well. Or maybe it was the partners after him and his income. Or… was it them and their situation? She shook her head internally, refusing to follow that path.
Donna pulled back the covers and swung her legs off the bed, but as she tried to stand, a sharp pain took her by surprise and she let out a cry despite herself. Before she even understood what was happening, Harvey rushed behind her and caught her by the waist before her legs gave out.
“Shit…”
“What exactly are you trying to do?”
“Can’t a woman go to the bathroom?”
“You should’ve woken me up. It’s not only your head that’s hurt.”
“It’s fine, I can do it.”
“Don’t be stubborn. Lean on me.”
She wanted to argue, but the truth was that every step sent stabbing pain through her bruised rib. As much as it cost her, she leaned on Harvey. She’d never admit it, but it hurt less with him supporting her. Physically, at least. Because her heart was in pieces.
How could they be so close and yet so distant? How could she feel his warmth, his strength, his breath near her… while everything between them felt broken?
She needed to get into that bathroom and have one moment to fall apart without witnesses.
At the doorway, she held onto the frame and stepped away from Harvey.
“Thanks, I can manage from here.”
“Donna, don’t be ridiculous. You can barely stand.”
“You really know how to speak to a woman,” she snapped irritably.
“You know what I mean.”
“I know that there is absolutely no scenario where you get to see me pee,” she muttered, exasperated.
“Donna—”
“Out.”
“I—”
“OUT!”
She wanted one minute alone, was that really too much to ask?! It wasn't enough to have him around her, to have his scent on her, to want to hit him and then snuggle up in his arms. No, he had to insist on helping her. Since when was Harvey Specter the kind of guy who cuddled you when you needed it? He had been perfectly clear on that point. He was not. So pretending to take care of her was just twisting the knife in her guts.
He seemed to understand her discomfort and reluctantly stepped back. “I’ll stay right outside the door in case you—”
“I got it, GET OUT!”
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Harvey waited a few minutes, his back against the door. He heard her moving weakly behind it. He imagined the pain she must feel with every movement, and the thought alone twisted his stomach. He wanted to go in, help her, tell her she could scream at him if she wanted, as long as she didn’t hurt herself more.
After what felt like an eternity, a small timid, broken voice finally came from the other side.
“Harvey…? Can you come in…?”
He didn’t answer, he simply entered immediately. Donna was still sitting, curled in on herself, eyes fixed on the floor as if she were ashamed of something. His heart tightened. She should never be ashamed in front of him.
“You done?”
She nodded. “I can’t get up,” she whispered so softly he could barely hear her.
He immediately offered her his hands and she grabbed them. He lifted her with a gentleness he hadn’t known he possessed. He felt her fingers slide against his, the weight of her body against him. She steadied herself and adjusted her underwear with an unusual modesty. He looked away for a moment. For her sake. And maybe also to keep his composure.
“Thank you,” she breathed, not daring to look at him but her face was raised just enough for him to see her tear-filled eyes.
“Are you in pain?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then what?”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked out of nowhere.
He frowned, unsure where she was going with this.
She continued: “You’re taking care of me, you’re pretending to care—”
“I’m not pretending,” he cut in, offended she could even think that.
“So what happened to the guy who doesn’t comfort people?”
“That’s what this is about?!”
“You threw it in my face twice in less than a month. Sorry if that stuck with me.”
Harvey took a deep breath, trying not to snap. “First of all, one of those times was about Louis—”
“Oh my God, do you always have an answer for everything?”
“What do you want from me, Donna? A hug?”
“Well yes actually! But don’t worry, I won’t beg. I got the message loud and clear.”
“Donna—”
“I had a car accident, Harvey. I thought I was gonna die. My whole body hurts. I can’t even go to the bathroom on my own. And… and I thought I’d never see you again. I couldn’t stop thinking that our last conversation was a fight.”
As her tangled thoughts spilled out, tears streamed freely down her face. Harvey had rarely felt so stupid. Of course she had been terrified and had probably seen her life flash before her eyes. And now she was stuck here with an emotional cripple.
He cursed himself internally, and without thinking further, he pulled her into his arms. The gesture cut her off, but she melted into him immediately. He felt her hands grip the back of his shirt like her life depended on it, her tears soaking into his chest.
“It’s okay, I’ve got you. It’s over.” He stroked her hair soothingly.
The scene must have looked ridiculous from the outside. A hug between a toilet and a hospital shower. It was pathetic and exactly like them. They never did anything like normal people.
Once Donna’s sobbing had calmed, Harvey caught their reflection in the small mirror. The way their bodies fit together perfectly. The way her head nestling in his neck seemed like it belonged there. She wasn’t that tall without heels.
“You’re small.”
“Excuse me?” she said, lifting her head, offended.
“You’re small.”
“I’m not. I’m 5’7.”
“Still sounds small to me.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Maybe, but you stopped crying, so I’ll take it as a win,” he said with a smirk. “Ready to go back to bed?”
She nodded, and before letting her go, he kissed her forehead almost by reflex, instantly wanting to do it again because of how natural it felt. They left the bathroom with slightly lighter hearts.
Once she was settled, Donna sighed: “You should go home, Harvey. Take a shower, change your clothes, sleep in a real bed. My head feels better, I can stay alone.”
“Is that your way of telling me I stink?” he asked lightly as he helped her lie down.
She smiled. “You have many things to work on, Harvey, but bad smell isn’t one of them.”
“I already texted Ray, he’s bringing me clothes. I’ll take a shower here,” he said with a shrug.
Donna blinked. “You’re going to shower here?”
“Of course. I’m not leaving you alone.”
After that, Donna didn’t reply. She fell asleep on and off. The doctor came by, saying they’d run another exam tomorrow and that if the swelling had decreased, she could go home.
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Later in the day, Harvey picked up a bag with clean clothes. As he unpacked it, he found a little electric Christmas tree and a garland that Ray had slipped in. He smiled at his driver’s thoughtfulness.
Donna stayed silent, torn between shock and an irrepressible urge to laugh. Harvey Specter, the least festive man on the planet, had just pulled a glowing Christmas tree out of his bag like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And he was smiling. A real smile, almost childlike, as he switched it on and placed it triumphantly on the small side table. Then he grabbed the garland and wrapped it around the footboard of her bed. Meticulously. Like he was signing a piece of art.
“What are you doing?” she laughed despite herself at the sight of him decorating.
She couldn’t help it. This mix of absurdity and tenderness completely disarmed her.
“Oh come on, it’s December 24th and tomorrow is Christmas. This room is too depressing, and Ray is a genius.”
He stepped back dramatically, hands on his hips, very proud of his “work.” She wanted to tease him gently, but deep down something warmed inside her. Being treated gently wasn’t something Harvey often did. That he was doing it now was a balm she didn’t even know she’d been waiting for. It was comforting after all the arguments they’d had lately.
But she couldn’t help wondering how things would be once they got back to the firm. Maybe all of this was calculated, and he thought everything would go back to normal once she was out. God, she hoped she was wrong. She was grateful he was there, but she couldn’t stop fearing what came next. And hope was a dangerous thing with Harvey.
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When he walked out of the bathroom, the smell of his soap and cologne filled the room. Obviously, he’d asked Ray to bring his entire line of products.
What a diva.
He had traded his suit for dark jeans and a white hoodie, and the dress shoes had been replaced with a pair of high-top sneakers. His hair was still damp, and she could tell he didn’t have a razor because the stubble was already showing.
It wasn’t fair. Being that attractive should be illegal.
“A penny for your thoughts,” he teased.
Find something, Donna.
“I was just thinking… No one has asked me anything about my insurance,” she blurted at the last second. It wasn’t exactly a lie. “It’s weird, they’ve run all these tests and I haven’t filled out a single form.”
“I did it yesterday while you were getting your MRI,” he said casually like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You? You filled out a form?” she stared, incredulous.
“Is that so surprising?”
“Well yes. Since you haven’t filled out a form since the day you realized you could delegate that task to the firm’s legal staff.”
“Well I filled that one out!” he snapped defensively.
“How do you know my social security number?”
“Donna, can’t you just accept what I did? I know it, that’s all that matters.”
To say he was exasperated was an understatement, but she pressed on. She wanted to solve the mystery. “…You called Mike, didn’t you?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “You know what, Donna? You win… I called Mike. Thanks to him and his photographic memory for saving the day, because the jerk you listed as your emergency contact doesn’t know your social security number.”
She rolled her eyes at him. He could be so childish. Looking more closely, he seemed hurt, but in her defense, she had never been used to this version of Harvey. She hadn’t even known he existed until now.
“But is it really that hard to believe I could’ve known it?” he asked, pulling her out of her thoughts.
“Uh, yes. You don’t even know your own phone number, so why would you know my social security number?”
“You know mine…”
“Yes, because you’re my bo… were… my boss.”
The words slipped out before she realized, and it was too late to take them back. She saw a flash of pain in Harvey’s eyes. For a fraction of a second, the mask fell, but he put it right back on.
“Yeah, well. Not really an issue anymore, is it?” He stood up. “I’m gonna go get some coffee.”
“Harvey, don’t be—”
She tried to grab his arm, but he pulled away. “Try to get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”
He headed for the door, and she tried again: “Are you really upset that I pointed out you don’t know your own phone number?”
He looked at her, deadpan. “I know yours.”
The door closed, and Donna stayed there, heart in shreds, trying to understand how three little words could make her shake like that.
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The nerve she had, he thought as he stood by the coffee machine. She really believed he didn’t care about her?! After all the years they had spent together, that he didn’t give a damn. Donna was the person who knew him best, and yet she didn’t know this. She thought he was heartless. She knew he cared about people. In his own way, but still. Why was it so hard to understand that he cared about her too? That he lov—
Again with that. He hadn’t been able to get that thought out of his head since the night he’d had dinner at her place after Liberty Rail. The words had come out without thinking. He’d regretted saying them out loud and messing with Donna’s mind. Not that he hadn’t meant them, just… he couldn’t afford it. Because love was terrifying. It was like jumping into the void without a parachute and hoping you’d still land gently. With Donna, the void was huge and the fall potentially fatal. It was the risk of losing her for good, and that was impossible. He already had panic attacks with her being down the hall these past two weeks. Losing her completely would kill him.
And yet… When the hospital called, he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. For a minute, she wasn’t there anymore. He thought he’d really lost her, and if that wasn’t the universe sending him a message then what the hell was that?
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After Harvey left, Donna stared at the wall in front of her. With him, it was always one step forward and two steps back. She felt like she’d been walking on eggshells with him since Liberty Rail. Nothing had ever been simple between them, but the last few days were on another level. He had been hurtful. Mean. Unfair. Angry. Because for once she was putting herself first. And then… she’d had this accident, and he’d shown up at the hospital without thinking twice. He had taken care of her. Watched over her. Helped her as much as he could and as much as she let him. Made sure she was as comfortable as possible. Because all of that… all those actions… that was his love language.
He was putting her first.
The door swung open abruptly, making her jump. Harvey came in almost urgently, as if he had run all the way. When he locked eyes with her, a shiver ran down her spine: something had changed. As if he had found an answer he’d been searching for for years.
“I really meant it.”
She frowned. “Meant what?”
“That I love you.”
“But you said—”
“I know what I said and I’m sorry. I panicked.” He closed his eyes, probably to regain some composure. He approached her and took her hand. “I lost you.”
She shook her head instinctively. “Harvey, I already told you that working for Louis doesn’t mean—”
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about yesterday when the hospital called. I lost you, Donna. For a minute, I was convinced I’d lost you forever.”
That left Donna speechless. She hadn’t really thought about that. About what it must have been like for him.
“You didn’t lose me,” she whispered, deeply moved. “I’m right here.”
“I did lose you,” he insisted, eyes shining with tears. “For a minute, you had completely and irreversibly disappeared from my life. Donna, I’m tired of pretending and of not moving because I’m afraid of losing you, because guess what? Life can decide to take you away from me at any moment…”
“What are you saying…?”
He sat on the edge of the bed, bringing his face closer to hers. His fingers tightened around her hand as if he were holding on to her to keep from falling.
“I’m saying that I love you.”
She froze. He had already said those words and taken them back. That wasn’t going to be enough, and he knew it. She couldn’t go through that a second time.
“Ask me again.”
She swallowed hard, understanding that he was giving her a certainty. The only one that truly mattered.
“Love me how?” she whispered.
“I love you so much it makes me lose my mind. It makes me dizzy when you’re more than a few inches away from me. I stopped believing in love when I was eight, Donna, but the day I met you… everything finally made sense. It wasn’t love at first sight, not exactly. It was... Familiarity. Home. It was being exactly where I was meant to be, with the person I was meant to share everything with. And we did. For years. And I lied to myself for twelve years, convincing myself I didn’t love you that way because I was a fucking coward. But I’m done living in fear.”
Tears rolled freely down Donna's cheeks as his words washed over her. She thought about the last few weeks, then the last twelve years. All of the things that they had refused to admit, to each other, to themselves. And the pain it had caused.
“You could have told me that two weeks ago, and we wouldn't have torn each other apart.”
He looked down. “I'm sorry. I know I can be an asshole sometimes-”
“Sometimes?”
He looked up, smirking a little, but there was a glint in his eye, as vulnerable as she had never seen from him.
"Okay, more than sometimes. But I'm an asshole who loves you."
Emotions closed her throat, preventing her from answering, but Harvey seemed to understand. Without hesitation, he closed the distance between them and kissed her.
It was both an explosion of well-being and a soothing of the soul. It was as if the planets had aligned. She was finally with the person she was meant to be with. The feeling was unbelievable, exhilarating, and overwhelming. She smiled into the kiss. Then Harvey was smiling too, and they both began to laugh, effectively ending the kiss, but their foreheads remained pressed together for a minute longer as they drank each other in.
Then Harvey leaned away, his eyes scanning her face with a smile still on his lips. He ran his fingers over her hair, brushing it back, and he wiped away the tear tracks on her cheeks.
"You would decide to do this when I'm in the hospital, without make up, looking an absolute mess."
His smile only grew, "You are lovelier this morning than you have ever been."
Donna blinked. “Wait... Did you just quote Notting Hill?”
"I did."
She backed away an inch, genuinely shocked. “YOU know Notting Hill?”
“I know everything about Julia Roberts."
She burst out laughing and kissed him again, realizing that despite all she knew, there was still so much to learn about him. Harvey kissed her back, short and sweet pecks against her mouth, then her cheeks, until he smiled against her temple.
“I guess you could say I'm just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him."
Donna smirked, shaking her head, but when her eyes met his, there was a note of seriousness behind the humor. It sobered her.
"You never had to ask."
This time when Harvey kissed her, it was slow and full of emotion. Donna could have lost herself in that kiss, but Harvey pulled back much too soon, his expression soft.
"Merry Christmas, Donna."
"Merry Christmas, asshole of my life."
He laughed, and corrected, "Love of your life."
She smiled, "You're both. Because you're Harvey Specter. We both know you were never fitting into just one box."
"Mhmm," he moved closer, pressing a kiss to her jaw this time, then her shoulder, "And what other boxes do I mark off for you, Donna?"
She giggled when he playfully nipped at the cloth that covered her, reminding her that she was still in a flimsy gown, in a hospital, having the most monumental conversation of her life.
She grabbed his face, bringing his gaze back to hers. "All the boxes, Harvey. Every single one."
His eyes darkened and he leaned in again, capturing her lips a final time.
They kissed and kissed and kissed, forgetting everything else and snow began to fall in quiet flurries just outside the window.