Chapter Text
Another victory.
Without much surprise, Harvey Specter had just secured yet another victory, not that anyone was truly surprised, considering the number of cases he had won throughout his career. Arriving in New York at twenty-five after studying law at Harvard, the young attorney had started at the Manhattan District Attorney's Office before quickly being recruited to Pearson Hardman by Jessica, thanks to his rapidly growing reputation. Harvey was unbeatable as he crushed every opposing attorney in court, clients fought to have him represent them, and before he even realized it, he had earned the nickname of New York's best closer.
He loved it — the power, the control, the admiration of others — and that was what kept him alive, because otherwise there was nothing worth waking up for every morning.
Truthfully, now forty years old, aside from his work, his fortune, and the occasional women who drifted through his bed whenever loneliness became too overwhelming, Harvey had nothing else. He had once had someone, a long time ago, but just as he had always expected, he fucked everything up, and since then, he had promised himself never to grow attached to anyone again, afraid of being broken the way she had broken him almost sixteen years earlier. So he buried himself in the mountain of work before him, winning case after case, pocketing thousands of dollars every day, living the high life, burning the candle at both ends, knowing he probably wasn't going to live very long anyway considering his lifestyle.
But that morning, after winning a case against Andrew Malik in court, he returned to the offices of Specter Litt Wheeler Williams — his name on the goddamn wall — walking confidently toward his office when Irina, his secretary for the past four months and probably half his age, looked at him while biting her lip and whispered in a sultry voice.
« Congratulations, Mr. Specter. Another victory »
« Another victory, indeed »
« Mr. Harris called. He just dropped his attorney and is looking for a new one »
« Harris? »
« CEO of Alo Yoga. Annual revenue of 217 billion dollars »
« Give me his number. I think we need to talk »
After flashing one of his devastating smiles at his secretary, Irina immediately dialed the number so Harvey could take the call from his office. That was how it worked — his reputation kept growing, major corporations all wanted him on their side, and meanwhile he continued expanding his empire and pocketing millions he would spend on overpriced cigars, whiskey bottles that were never worth their price, sports cars, and luxury suits that served as his armor in court.
Harvey hadn't always lived this way.
Back when his annual salary was sixty-five thousand dollars — far less than the six million he earned now — every paycheck went toward luxury handbags, magnificent designer dresses, flowers, jewelry, special edition books, and nights at the opera. But when he suddenly found himself with all this money and no idea how to waste it, he found new ways to do so — alcohol to forget, luxury cars to attract attention, and Tom Ford suits to give the impression that he feared nothing. His life had changed sixteen years ago, and if he had thought time would ease the pain, when he was alone, he still thought about it over and over until he tried to forget with Macallan whiskey or pills.
Minutes later, as his secretary signaled to him, Harvey took a deep breath and answered the call, beginning his usual performance with the CEO, determined to sign another contract and collect a few more million dollars until the attorney chuckled and ended the call.
« Well, it's an honor doing business with you, Mr. Harris. Tuesday then? Perfect »
After the final pleasantries, Harvey hung up and returned to his day, working endlessly while his secretary waved goodbye as she left, and he simply nodded before focusing once again on his computer. Outside, it was already dark, most of the employees had gone home, but Harvey didn't care because no one was waiting for him there, and he had nothing planned anyway. He might as well work — that was what he was good at. Yet while his office sat in silence, interrupted only by the sound of his fingers on the keyboard, he was surprised to hear his phone ring, especially when he saw an unknown number appear on the screen.
« What the hell? »
Normally he wouldn't have bothered answering, but Harvey knew it could be a potential client or something related to one of his cases. So after a sigh, he picked up, brought the phone to his ear, and murmured.
« Hello? »
« Good evening, am I speaking with Mr. Harvey Specter? »
« This is he. How can I help you? »
« I’m calling from Mount Sinai Hospital here in Manhattan. We admitted Ms. Donna Paulsen through the emergency room earlier today, and since you're listed as the last known emergency contact, we… »
« Donna? »
It had been sixteen years since he had last heard that name — at least spoken aloud — and in a fraction of a second, he felt sick. He shot to his feet and began pacing around his office, his throat tightening as he turned pale, his vision blurring as all he wanted to do was throw up. But before his panic attack could fully take hold, the woman interrupted herself and spoke softly.
« Mr. Specter? Are you still there? »
« Yes, sorry... Is... Is she... Is she alright? »
« At the moment, we've had to place her in a coma, but her life is no longer in danger. We don't know how long it will take for her to wake up, and since you're the only registered emergency contact, we need you to come in. By any chance, are you Wade's father? »
In an instant, he sat back down, feeling his legs tremble beneath him as he tried to process the words he had just heard.
Are you Wade's father?
Who was Wade? Had Donna had a child after she left? How old was this child? What was he supposed to do with all of this? As he spiraled, the woman repeated his name, and the attorney stammered softly.
« Wade? »
« Yes, Ms. Paulsen's son... Look, my apologies. I was just trying to understand because the poor boy refuses to speak, and we don't know who to call regarding him. Could you come to the hospital? Maybe you'll be able to help us »
« Sure, yeah »
« You can come through the emergency entrance and ask at reception for Donna Paulsen »
« Alright… » Harvey whispered.
« Thank you, Mr. Specter »
The moment he hung up, he sat motionless for several seconds, staring at the wall in front of him, trying to make sense of everything happening and everything that was about to happen.
He hadn't seen the woman who had broken his heart in over sixteen years. The woman who had taken away his desire to live. The woman who had driven him into addiction — to alcohol, gambling, money. The woman who had abandoned him. But while Harvey tried to blame her for all the rage and sadness buried inside him, deep down, he knew the truth — it was all his fault, she had left because of him.
Harvey and Donna had met shortly after arriving in New York and at the time, he was twenty-five, and she had just turned twenty-two. The young lawyer had just started working under Cameron Dennis when he won his first trial — a ridiculous case, but important enough to celebrate at a small Midtown bar. In a second, he walked in confidently, wearing a suit that had cost several hundred dollars — a gift from his father to congratulate him on graduating from Harvard — and approached the bar to address the waitress.
« Excuse me, could I get something to drink? »
« I’m finishing my shift, but my coworker will take care of you »
After a quick nod, the moment the coworker approached, he lost all rational thought. As he stared at her with his mouth slightly open and eyes wide, she just chuckled, and Harvey felt almost ridiculous for reacting that way. But she was beautiful — no — she was absolutely breathtaking. Large hazel-green doe eyes. Long red hair. Soft curtain bangs framing her gentle face. Freckles scattered across her skin. That little crooked smile. And the young attorney's heart raced.
« Good evening. What can I get for you? »
« Your number »
He had been direct. No hesitation. The words left his mouth before he had even thought them through as she burst out laughing before regaining her composure and chuckling, her eyes sparkling and her smile devastating.
« You're gonna be that honest? »
« Saves time »
« Alright. You know what? If by the end of the night you haven't already forgotten about me for one of the many girls who are going to hit on you tonight, I might consider giving you my first name »
« A challenge? I love that. Alright. See you tonight then, stranger »
Without even asking, she poured him a glass of whiskey before turning to another customer as Harvey returned to his colleagues, but his eyes never left the redhead behind the bar — he was completely captivated. At the end, hours passed, drinks followed, and as the bar slowly emptied, Harvey remained seated at the counter while the redhead laughed and murmured, wiping down the countertop.
« Still here? »
« Well, despite the almost embarrassing number of invitations from women wanting me to go home with them, the idea of getting your number was more tempting »
« I’m only telling you my name » the redhead snorted.
« I’ll gladly settle for that. So? »
« Donna »
« Well, nice to meet you, Donna. I'm Harvey »
As he held out his hand, they both shivered at the electricity between them, and Harvey couldn't stop himself from placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand like a true gentleman. In the meantime, Donna burst out laughing and quickly replied while continuing to wipe down the counter.
« Alright, loverboy. I have to close the bar. Looks like you're going to have to go home »
In the end, he didn't go home right away, he simply waited outside the bar for her shift to end before walking her home while the two of them talked about everything and nothing beneath the New York night sky, getting to know each other as though they could have kept talking for hours longer. The next day, still without her number, Harvey showed up at the same bar again as he sat alone at the counter for hours, nursing a drink until she finished work so he could walk her home once more. By the third time, Donna grabbed Harvey's phone while they stood outside her building and murmured softly.
« Well, I think you've earned my number, huh? »
« Thank heaven »
At Harvey's dramatically relieved expression, she laughed before heading inside. Moments later, her heart sped up when she received a text from the attorney telling her that he would pick her up the next morning with pastries and coffee.
From that day on, they became inseparable.
They saw each other every day, flirted constantly, completely smitten with one another and for the first time in his life, Harvey felt happy. And more importantly... In love. From the very beginning, Harvey told Donna about his mother's affairs and how they had ruined his perception of commitment, trust, and love itself. Donna shared her own fears — that at twenty-two, fresh out of Yale with a theater degree and newly arrived in New York, the possibility of failing and ending up financially ruined sometimes kept her awake at night. Faced with that, Harvey decided he would do everything possible to make sure it never happened to her, even if success and money eventually went to his head as at first, even before they were officially together, Harvey picked her up every day, paid for breakfast, brought her flowers, and bought her gifts until one day Donna finally cracked.
« Harv »
« Yeah? »
« You realize this is a bit much? I mean, we're not even together »
« Imagine when we are » Harvey chuckled.
« Are you serious? » Donna smiled.
« About what? »
« About being together. I mean, being in a relationship is... a lot »
The two of them sat side by side on Donna's couch watching an episode of Survivor as she turned her head to look at him and saw him lean back, staring at the ceiling before speaking softly.
« Well, I'm in love with you, so I figure it'll be alright, huh? »
At that, he turned toward her, looking at Donna with a mixture of nervousness and love, the redhead smiling. She shifted until she was straddling his lap, her hands sliding over his face and into his hair as the sight of his smile made her melt. After that, she stopped thinking altogether, she simply pressed her lips against his as the newly formed couple kissed for hours, completely forgetting about the show they had been watching, eventually making love on the couch of Donna's tiny Soho studio apartment.
That day changed things, but not all that much.
They still saw each other every day, joked around, ate together, texted constantly, and Harvey still waited for her outside the bar where she worked. The only difference was that now they spent their nights together, kissed whenever they got the chance, and walked hand in hand through the streets of New York. They were only twenty-two and twenty-five, it was a young and innocent love, and yet they were both convinced they would spend the rest of their lives together. For Donna, being with Harvey felt like living the overwhelming passion she'd only ever read about in romance novels while for Harvey, Donna had become his reason to live, so he never stopped.
He showered her with gifts, took her to luxurious restaurants that were far too fancy for either of them, put her on a pedestal, hopelessly and completely in love while every time he saw her smile widen at a new Gucci bag or a Tiffany ring, he felt invincible. Even when his banker warned him week after week that his spending was pushing him dangerously close to being broke, Harvey didn't slow down, if anything, he worked harder. Later nights. Riskier cases. More questionable clients. Dollar after dollar. Anything to make sure Donna never lacked a single thing and that particular evening was supposed to be perfect.
They had been together for six months.
Six months of loving each other more than anything in the world.
It was Valentine's Day, and the young attorney had planned everything so that the night would be the very stereotype of the most romantic evening imaginable. Harvey stood before the mirror in Donna's loft, finishing the knot of his bow tie as behind him, Donna admired the dark red silk dress he had bought her for the occasion and spoke softly.
« Honey? »
« Hmm? »
« I was thinking maybe we could do something simple tonight. I don't know... stay here, cook dinner, watch a movie. Just you and me on the couch. Nothing too extravagant »
« Tonight? Donna, it's Valentine's Day. We're not just... staying home. I booked a private table at Blue Hill. Champagne. Tasting menu. You're going to love it »
Checking the time on his watch while grabbing his jacket, Harvey missed the amused look Donna gave him before she spoke again.
« Always you and your need for everything to be perfect, huh? Can't we just improvise for once? »
« Improvising is fine when you have nothing to prove. I just want us to have a night worthy of us, baby »
The forced smile on Harvey's face and the words themselves rubbed Donna the wrong way as she stepped closer, her voice more serious now.
« Worthy of us... or worthy of you? Because lately it feels like everything you do is about your image. Your job. Your reputation. Your money. What people think about the great Harvey Specter, right? »
« That's unfair »
« No. What's unfair is that you spend more time with your case files than with me. There's always another meeting, another client, another so-called emergency at work. So what does that make me? »
The tone shifted abruptly as Harvey inhaled deeply, and Donna heard the sharpness creeping into his voice.
« I’m doing this for us, Donna. So we can have a life. So you never have to worry about anything »
« What are you talking about? I don't care about your money, luxury bags, or jewelry. I just want my boyfriend to be here with me so we can have something resembling a normal life »
She stepped closer.
« Harv, look at me. When was the last time you looked at me without thinking about work? »
It was a trap of a question as Harvey looked away then sighed nervously and began searching for his keys.
« You're exaggerating. I love you, okay? You're the love of my life and you know it. But I have a career to build. If I want to be the best, I have to give it everything »
« But you don't have to sacrifice everything for it. You can succeed without losing yourself »
« You don't understand anything, Donna! »
In a fraction of a second, Harvey exploded as he grabbed a glass of water Donna had poured earlier and hurled it against the wall — the glass shattering into a thousand pieces. Water splashed across the wall and hardwood floor as without hesitation, he turned toward her, rage burning in his eyes as he advanced, shouting like a man possessed.
« You think it's easy? You think success falls from the sky? You have no idea what it's like! You didn't earn what I did! I worked every damn minute to get here! Nothing was handed to me. Nothing! »
Shocked, Donna took a step back as she had never imagined that the man who was usually so gentle and loving with her could lose control like this while tears filled her eyes.
« I don't want you to succeed for me, Harvey. I just want you to be here »
« My career is all I have! It's everything I am! And if you force me to choose, I'll choose it every single time. My goddamn career »
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Permanent.
Irreparable.
Donna stared at him with a shattered heart.
A few seconds later, she slowly nodded because he had crossed a line he could never come back from as she grabbed her coat and keys and said without even looking at him.
« Then you've made your choice, Harvey. And I'm making mine »
She headed for the door.
« I’m leaving »
She stormed out, slamming the door behind her as Harvey remained frozen in place, breathing hard. Outside, the rain intensified, pounding against the windows as if trying to drown out the sound of his racing heart, his eyes drifting to the shattered glass on the floor as a perfect reflection of what he had just destroyed. It was the last time he ever saw Donna. After that, he spent nearly a week drinking himself unconscious before Jessica showed up and dragged him out of his apartment. The only trace Donna left behind was a collection of boxes containing everything he had left at her place, stacked outside his door, along with moving company paperwork explaining that they had knocked but received no answer.
She had blocked his number.
Changed jobs.
Apparently changed addresses too.
He haunted all the places they used to visit together and never saw her again.
Even now, at forty years old, nearly sixteen years later, he still found himself driving past that Midtown bar, walking through Soho past her old apartment, her name long removed from the buzzer, or stopping by the breakfast spot they had always loved together — a place that had closed years ago. Yet as he sped toward Mount Sinai Hospital, Harvey's heart pounded wildly because he had no idea what to do. Back then, they had listed each other as emergency contacts because they were alone in New York, their families still back in Boston and Hartford and since then, he had never updated that information. And now, sixteen years after breaking her heart, he was about to see her again.
After a car accident.
Minutes later, the moment he arrived at the hospital, he parked, rushed through the emergency entrance, and approached the reception desk.
« Hi. I got a call about Donna Paulsen. I'm Harvey Specter »
« Of course. Follow me »
On trembling legs, he followed the nurse through the corridors, passing patient after patient until they reached the private rooms until the nurse pushed open a door and Harvey took a deep breath. If he had imagined countless possible scenarios, this wasn't one of them because Donna was lying there — her red hair spread across the pillow like a halo, her pale skin contrasted sharply with the cuts on her face, a large breathing tube was taped across her mouth — and suddenly Harvey felt sick. The woman he had spent sixteen years desperately trying to forget — the woman he had loved so fiercely that he had lost himself in the process — lay unconscious before him. Different, yet somehow exactly the same.
Only after staring at her face did he notice the teenage boy sitting beside her bed as the boy was slumped over Donna, his face buried against her stomach, clutching her arm tightly while all Harvey could see was a mop of dirty-blond hair.
« Hey, Wade »
At the sound of his name, Wade lifted his head and looked toward Harvey as the air left his lungs and acid rose into the back of his throat.
The teenager looked about fifteen or sixteen. Dirty-blond surfer hair. A few freckles. And most of all... The same large chocolate-brown eyes Harvey saw every morning in the mirror while the boy stared back at him with exactly the same shock written across his face and in that moment, Harvey understood one thing.
When Donna left sixteen years ago, she hadn't only taken his heart with her.
She had taken something else that belonged to him.
Because there was absolutely no doubt who the second parent of this teenager was.
It was him.