Chapter Text
Mike looked down at his drink and huffed wryly to himself, no joy in the quiet sound. He always knew it would end up like this. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
He looked back up to watch his two best friends’ first dance. They swayed to the acoustic track of “Waves” by Dean Lewis, gazing at each other with such love and adoration that it made Mike physically ache.
Mike knew he was punishing himself by being here, at their wedding. But he cared about Harvey and Donna more than it hurt to see them like this. Their happiness was more important than Mike’s.
He felt so fucking selfish. Attending as his best man while wishing that Harvey didn’t love Donna as much as he did. Mike was a bad friend and a worse person.
When Harvey and Donna told him they were getting married, he felt like he got sucker punched. Mike knew it was coming, but his soul died a little bit at the news. When Harvey asked Mike to be his best man, Mike immediately knew that he would regret saying yes. But he did anyway. For him.
Mike had been in love with Harvey Specter for fucking years. He had tried so hard to get over it. But nothing fucking worked. Mike knew that he would probably love Harvey for the rest of his life.
Mike never really tried to hide it. But one of the most observational men he had ever met was fucking oblivious when it came to Mike. It’s for the best, he told himself.
As their song came to an end, others began to join the newly wedded couple on the floor. Mike turned around and walked out onto the balcony of the massive hotel that Harvey had rented out, setting his glass on one of the server’s trays. He couldn’t take it anymore. Mike needed a distraction.
He fished a pack of cigarettes and his lighter from his pocket. Mike stuck one between his lips, and lit it, cupping the flame in his palm. He leaned against the railing, looking out over New York.
Mike exhaled, smoke clouding the air in front of him. After the wedding, he was going to catch the next plane back to Seattle. He had originally planned to stay for a few days, but he could not do this. Mike couldn’t watch his best friends bask in their happiness, and pretend that he wasn’t in love with Harvey.
He inhaled, the cigarette flooding his lungs. Mike pulled his phone out, and dialed his assistant. Amy had texted earlier telling him to call her.
“Hey. What’s up?” Mike asked, exhaling. Amy huffed over the phone.
“You’re supposed to be at a wedding right now. When I told you to call me, I didn’t mean now,” his assistant scolded him.
“C’mon. It’s fine. What did you want to talk to me about?” Mike assured, cig pinched between his fingers. He could practically hear Amy rolling her eyes.
“Fine. The client from Monday is getting cold feet. She only wants to talk to you.” Mike took a drag from his cigarette, considering. At least he would have an actual excuse to leave early.
Amy was quiet as she let him think. They were good friends. They worked well together. He took another drag as Amy spoke up again.
“How are you doing?” she asked quietly. Mike sighed a cloud of smoke. Amy had a solid understanding of Mike’s situation.
“Shitty. I’m gonna catch the next flight back,” he responded, equally as quiet. Amy was silent for a moment.
“Okay. Do you want me to get you a ticket?” she asked. Mike sighed in relief. Amy was a good friend and a better assistant. She always knew what he needed, even when Mike himself didn’t.
“Please.”
Mike finished his cigarette and flicked off the balcony, watching it fall to the street below. He could hear the clacking of a keyboard on the other end. Mike sighed and tried to focus on anything other than the sound of the wedding inside. The honks of cars, the bustle of New York, Amy on the other end of the phone.
“Alright. I have you booked for a first class flight at one AM directly to Seattle,” Amy informed. Mike winced a little. He couldn’t get used to the luxuries that he could afford now. “I know, I know. But first class were the only seats left. I’m sending you all the details now,” his assistant said, understanding.
Mike checked his watch. It was a little before nine. He was going to have to stay a little while.
“Sorry. One was the earliest flight,” Amy apologized. Mike shook his head even though she couldn’t see him.
“No, it’s alright. Thanks, Amy,” he said.
“Of course.” Mike looked back through the glass balcony doors. He would have to go back inside.
“I’m gonna go now, Ames. Thanks.” They said their goodbyes before hanging up. Mike turned back to face the doors and steeled himself.
With a sigh, Mike walked back inside. It was crowded and loud, lights flashing and music pounding. Mike beelined to the bar.
“Can I get a whiskey, neat?” he asked the bartender. Mike wanted a cheap beer more than anything, but he knew Harvey wouldn’t stand to have anything but the best at his wedding.
The bartender slid his drink over the counter, and Mike thanked him with a nod. He grabbed his drink and sat down at one of the empty tables. Mike watched the guests dance and laugh and shout over the music.
He was gonna be here for a while. Mike could only hope that Harvey or Donna wouldn’t try to track him down.
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Most everyone had left by now. Mike had only stayed so long because he figured he owed at least that much to Harvey and Donna. He had a little over an hour until his flight left.
Mike was standing out on the balcony again, simply staring out at the city when Donna joined him.
“Hey, Mikey,” she smiled up at him when he turned to look at her.
“Hey, Donna,” he said, smiling softly.
“Whatcha up to out here?” she asked. Mike shook his head.
“Nothing really. Just thinking.”
“Too much of that can be dangerous, you know,” Donna warned, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Mike fully turned to face her.
“So, I thought I’d let you know that I’m leaving for Seattle tonight,” he told her. She frowned.
“Why? I thought you were going to stay in New York for a few days,” Donna asked, her brow scrunching. Mike scratched the back of his head.
“Work issue. Something came up, and they need me back,” he informed, only half lying. Mike shifted a little, desperately hoping that she wouldn’t call him out.
Donna stared at him, concerned. Her eyes filled with empathy and sadness.
“I’m sorry, Mike,” she said, eyes looking a little wet. Mike’s throat felt heavy. He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms.
“It’s not your fault,” Mike said quietly. Donna buried her face in his shoulder and held him tight.
“Still. I’m so, so sorry,” she sniffed, sounding sad. Mike pulled back a little to look at her, forcing a small smile.
“Are you happy, Donna?” he asked.
“Yeah.” He swallowed, forcing himself to continue.
“Is he?” Tears were in Donna’s eyes as she answered. Mike knew what the answer was. But it still hurt like a bitch.
“Yeah.” Mike’s smile was sad as he looked down at her.
“Then that’s all that matters.” Mike pulled her back into a hug and kissed the top of her head.
He rested his cheek on top of her hair, his eyes slipping shut. Mike didn’t resent her. He couldn’t. He loved Donna too, though different than how he loved Harvey.
“Bye, Donna,” Mike said softly, smiling at her. She wiped at her eyes, her mascara running a little bit. Her tears and makeup stained Mike’s suit, but he couldn’t care less.
“Bye, Mikey.” She sniffled a little, trying to collect herself. “Are you going to say goodbye to Harvey?” Donna asked. Mike shook his head. He knew it would hurt more if he had to say bye.
“I’m sure he’s busy. Tell him I said congrats.” Mike tried to smile at one of his best friends one more time before turning and walking out the door.
Mike walked into the elevator and hit the button for the ground floor, chest feeling tight. He desperately wanted to get high right now. Mike leaned his head back against the wall of the elevator and closed his eyes. He was so fucking tired.
The elevator dinged as the doors parted. Mike stepped out and walked through the lobby, headed for the doors out of this stupid fucking place. He reminded himself that he would need to stop by his hotel to pick up his things before he went to the airport.
Mike walked out of the giant building and stood at the curb, hailing a cab. He heard the doors open behind him and quick, purposeful footsteps. God damn it. He had hoped to leave before he caught up to Mike.
“Mike, what the fuck? Were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?!” Harvey demanded. Mike sighed and turned to look at him. The lawyer looked pissed. At Mike’s resigned expression, Harvey’s features softened a little in confusion and worry.
“What’s wrong?” he asked in that terse, concerned way of his. Mike just shook his head.
“Nothing. I have a flight to catch,” he said, trying to remain detached and impartial. But he felt like his heart was burying itself in his guts.
It was physically painful to look at Harvey right now. He was still in his suit, custom tailored by René, of course. Harvey’s look of anger returned.
“What do you mean you ‘have a flight to catch’?” he scowled. Mike shook his head again as a taxi pulled up in front of the curb. “What is your problem?”
“I’m going back to Seattle. Something came up,” Mike said, sighing.
“Bullshit! Why are you leaving, Mike?” Harvey demanded.
“Leave it, Harvey. It doesn’t matter. Congrats. I’m happy for you guys,” Mike’s voice was quiet. He pulled the taxi door open and began to get in when Harvey grabbed his arm.
“Mike.” Harvey stared at him, angry and confused, and Mike’s heart felt even more bruised. He yanked his arm away.
“See you, Harvey.”
Mike climbed into the taxi and shut the door. He avoided looking out the window at Harvey’s furious and confused face. Mike told the cabbie the name of the hotel he had been staying at, leaving Harvey standing on the sidewalk, watching the taxi pull away from the curb.
As they drove through the streets of New York, Mike rested his head back against the seat, eyes slipping closed. And if the cabbie noticed the quiet tears sliding down Mike’s face, he didn’t say anything.