THIRTEEN YEARS

Chapter Fourteen – Separate Beds

It worked out great for a few days.

I slept on a convertible chair-bed in Harvey's spare room. He wanted to give me his bed, but I declined. I feel guilty enough as it is – intruding on his life – I couldn't bear the thought of taking his bed from him too.

Despite our apartment-share, our lives continue as normal. We wake up, put in a fifteen hour shift at Pearson Specter Litt, come home and have dinner, then we go to our separate rooms. It's been fine and I genuinely feel like I'm on the mend. I haven't had a drink in a week now – not one! I've wanted one … or two … but I've resisted – temporarily resisted – and that makes me feel great.

But, as good as living here has been, tonight feels different.

Harvey came home later than usual. I know he's been working tirelessly to get Mike out of prison. Sean Cahill has been at the office for meeting after meeting and the stress is showing. He isn't his usual self … he's on edge, he's morose, he's pretending nothing is the matter, but somehow he forgets that I can read him like a book. I know I haven't been his usual 'Donna' for a while now, but I'm coming back slowly and I never truly lost my 'Donna powers'.

"What is it Harvey?" I ask as he pushes the plate of half-picked food across the table and grimaces.

"Hmm?" he asks absently. "Oh, you know … just Danbury. I've been there all day today. Every time I get closer to getting Mike out of that shithole something happens to rewind the work we've done and reset the clock to zero."

"Anything I can do?"

He smiles as he hangs his head. "No, we'll get there. I don't want you to worry about this … you've enough to think about."

I tilt my head to the side and wait for his gaze to meet mine. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Donna," he says, stretching out my name for effect.

I feel something rise within me. Or am I feeling something sink? I watch him and I don't know what he's thinking, or what he's hiding. I stand up and start clearing our plates away.

I walk to the kitchen and he's behind me in seconds. "Here, let me get those," he says.

"Harvey I can manage to put the dishes in the dish washer. Please, give me some space here. I'm starting to feel …" I pause as I take in his expression – bewilderment. "… okay, I'm feeling a little bit suffocated."

"I'm sorry. What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to be normal."

"I am being normal … I just …"

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"You're 'nothing' isn't you acting 'normal'!" I say, raising my voice enough to make him draw in a sharp breath. "I know there's something you're not telling me. Just … just don't … I want you to talk to me like you always talked to me. Is it about the firm?" He shakes his head and clenches his jaw. "Well what? … Is it Mike?"

He's refusing to look at me now. And he still isn't talking. And it's really starting to piss me off! I slam the dishes into the dish washer while he stands looking at me, but saying nothing. Like he's a plank of wood.

When I'm done, I choke down my rage and march to the spare bedroom, but he grabs my hand …

… "Wait."

I snatch my hand back and turn to face him.

"I'm sorry. I just don't know how to tell you …" he stammers.

His expression shifts. He turns his face to the floor and as maddening as his behaviour is, my rage is morphing into concern. I feel my chest burn and my blood charge around my body as my pulse races. "What is it, Harvey?" I ask softly.

He leads me over to his sofa and we sit down next to each other. He takes hold of my hand and he's still facing the floor and my stomach is still rolling with dread. "I was at Danbury all day but it wasn't all to do with Mike. We sorted that early on … he should be getting out tomorrow or maybe the next day, but something else happened …"

My mind races but I can't think of any possible non-Mike related situations Harvey could be involved in at Danbury. Unless … "Is this to do with Gallo? I was there when you put him away, Harvey. I know what he is. Have you done something bad to get Mike out?"

He bows his head again and I can see his jaw clench. "No, it isn't that."

"Then what? Harvey you're starting to scare me here." I feel his grip on my hand tighten and I'm lost. I can't think what else it could be.

"I saw Mitchell."

I feel a chill shoot down my spine when I hear his name. I've spent the last couple of weeks trying to block everything about Mitchell out, but every time it's brought back to me I feel a chill. Then nausea. Then fear grips my throat and I can't speak.

"Are you okay?" asks Harvey as he places his arm around me.

I inhale deeply. I don't want to feel like this anymore. It's over and Mitchell is in jail – in Danbury – but how is he in there? I nod my head to signal I'm fine, but my brain starts whirring. Danbury is a low security prison – and Mitchell hasn't been convicted yet anyway. Shouldn't he be with suspects awaiting trial? "What happened?" I ask. I prepare for the worst.

Harvey's body stiffens and his jaw clenches so tightly that it dimples. "I lost it. I went for him and three guards, plus Mike, had to pull me off. They put me in solitary until the warden could see me."

I raise my eyebrows. "They put you in solitary? Like, you mean, in a jail kind of solitary?"

He looks embarrassed. "Yes, but I guess they had to. Jesus, Donna if they hadn't I don't know what I would have done."

"Okay … I guess I understand why you did that. I don't agree, but I understand."

I see a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth and his eyes relax. "I'm sorry. I couldn't believe he was in there with Mike after what he did to you. I just saw red … I couldn't think straight."

"Did Mike know who he was?"

"No. Mike had been hanging out with him for a few days … Mitchell had said he was inside for embezzlement. Mike was pissed when I told him who he was, but later tonight – when they let me out of solitary – I went to see him. Shit, he's in a bad way, Donna. Mitchell had been asking all of these questions to get to know Mike and Mike had talked to him unwittingly about us … about you."

My stomach plunges to my feet. "What …?"

"He didn't know. He said he thought Mitchell was a great guy because he was showing so much interest in his life. Mike said he was fascinated by you, laughing at stories he told him … he even wanted him to describe what you looked like. Mike didn't have a clue, Donna. You know how smart he is, but he didn't have a clue. Now, I'm so goddamn worried he'll do something between tonight and tomorrow that will get his discharge papers revoked. He should be out tomorrow. Cahill has signed off on the deal with his roommate, but I can't go over there and see things through for him. I'm barred from going back to Danbury."

I shake out of Harvey's hold and shoot to my feet. Harvey stands too, but I shrug him away. "This is all my fault."

"What? Donna, you can't think like that. Of course it isn't your fault."

I walk over to the window and gaze out over the dazzling Manhattan skyline, the lights burning into my skull. "Harvey, if something to do with Mitchell stops Mike getting out of prison I won't be able to live with myself. What would I say to Rachel? What … ? What would I say to Mike?"

He takes hold of my forearms as tears spring from my eyes and roll down my cheeks. "This isn't your fault. None of this is your fault, do you hear me? None. This is his fault. It's my fault. And if Mike does something then it's goddamn Mike's fault, but it isn't yours. It has never ever been your fault."

I nod slowly and try to shake off the tears. He cups my face and strokes some of the damp away with his thumb.

"I'm going to get Louis to go down there tomorrow in my place. I trust him. He'll see this through for me."

"Can we ask him now … I mean, what if Mike does something now?"

"The warden assured me he'll try to keep them apart. I'm sure I'm worrying for nothing."

He lets go of me and I feel my body deflate. It's been a week since I've felt like this – helpless, needy, frightened – I need him to keep holding me, but I'm too afraid to tell him.

He finishes tidying up and I go to the spare room. I don't get dressed for bed – I can't – I stay in the top and yoga pants I've been wearing all evening, but I slip my bra off before I climb underneath the thin duvet. I don't have the energy to brush my teeth or wash. I'll do it tomorrow. One night with a day's worth of make-up on my face and fruit juice on my teeth won't kill me.

I lie on the narrow bed and I wonder when this will end. I was so pleased with myself earlier. I hadn't drank and I'd barely thought about Mitchell for days, but now this has all been brought back to me. I turn over and push my head into the pillow, trying to get comfortable. I think of Mike in there with Mitchell and my stomach churns. What if Mitchell does something to him? What if …?

Twelve hours. He has twelve hours in there. That isn't long. He'll be fine. He has to be fine.

X X X

I'm standing in Harvey's apartment – the sunlight streaming through the windows and casting shadows on the floor. The furniture – the buildings – me – him … HIM!

I turn around and see Mitchell standing behind me. He's tidying up, plumping up cushions, moving coffee cups over to the kitchen island. I'm wearing white. A short white nightdress that rises to my thighs. He's wearing black – jeans, shirt, sweater. "I'm going to work now" he says.

I don't answer him. I can't. I feel afraid but I can't speak. My legs won't move … my arms …

… my arms are tied behind me. And I can't scream. I feel him wrap the rope around one of the pillars in Harvey's apartment. Then he wraps it around my stomach and it's so tight that it's cutting into my skin. "Stay here until I get back," he says.

And still I don't speak. I hear him leave the apartment and then Mike's there. He's facing away from me. He's wearing blue overalls – prison overalls. "Mike". I say his name but he doesn't turn around. His body is trembling. He rubs his hands together and his body shakes. He's sobbing. "Mike" I say again.

Then he turns and I see blood on his hands. I cry out to him.

"I'm sorry Donna," he says. "I'm sorry," he repeats. "Please forgive me. I didn't know it was him. I didn't know."

"What's happened?" I ask.

Mike moves towards me and tries to loosen the ropes. There's blood on my clothes, blood on my legs … I don't know why. "I'm sorry," Mike repeats. "I'm sorry, but this is all your fault. You never loved Mitchell. You love Harvey. Why did you do it? Why did you sleep with him all those times? Why did you send him crazy? Why did you let him believe he loved you?"

I start to cry. "Why are your hands covered in blood, Mike? What have you done?"

And then Mitchell is standing behind him with blood pouring from his chest. "This is your fault, Donna," he says, mirroring Mike's words. And then he drives a knife straight through Mike's skull and I start to scream … and I can't stop screaming …

X X X

I can hear nothing but the sound of my own screams.

I can't hear his voice. I can't feel his arms around me because I'm fighting him away. I'm pushing him, shoving him, hitting him … and my throat is sore.

I feel Harvey's hands tighten around my arms. He's holding me still and it's as if I'm back in that dream, tied to the pillars. I kick. I punch. He forces me down on the bed, ignoring the assaults to his own body. I feel myself weaken as he pins me down. My chest strains as I gasp for air, each inhalation scratching my throat until I'm rasping and choking.

Then, I feel his arms around me, pulling me up and into his lap – one hand circles my waist, the other pulls my head into his chest. I slowly realise where I am and who I'm with. It's as if I'm an actor moving from one scene to another, playing a part in a play. Disjointed. Out of sync. This isn't reality, it can't be. It doesn't feel real.

I grip Harvey's arms. "I'm sorry," I say. I know I'm forever apologising, but this time I need to. I've just punched and kicked the living daylights out of him.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he says for the umpteenth time over the last few weeks. "I shouldn't have said anything earlier. I should have realised it would frighten you and give you another nightmare."

"How could you know? I didn't know this would happen, never mind you. I want to be normal, but I'm never going to be normal again, am I? This is who I am now."

"Don't say that," he says as he kisses the top of my head. "You've just got to give it some time."

"I've given it time. But it keeps … just when I think I'm getting better I go back to being afraid again. I hate feeling like this."

He holds me tighter and I nuzzle my cheek against his chest, feeling his heart beating under his t-shirt. "You had another nightmare that's all. You're not drinking again, you're beating this … and you're not pushing me away. Look at us." He kisses the top of my head again and I try to smile because I know at least we've gotten over that unbearable separation. "I'm not scared of hurting you anymore. I'm here, I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."

He lies me back down on the chair-bed and he stays with me, lying beside me, his back wedged up against the wall and my back melting into his body. "Can you stay with me?" I ask as I feel his arms tighten around my waist.

"I'll stay as long as you need me," he replies and he starts to stroke my hair, smoothing it over my neck and coiling the ends around his fingers.

I close my eyes and exhale, trying to force my body to relax, but his touch is keeping me alert. I'm tired, my throat is sore from screaming and my limbs are desperate for sleep, but as I feel his fingers creeping down my arms, caressing soft shapes onto my skin, my body groans under his touch. I push back into him, but then I remember that time – a few days after the attack. I had needed him so much and I wanted him to erase what Mitchell had done to me. That time he'd drove me away, afraid of where we were headed …

… but this time he pulls me closer. I wonder if he's doing this because he thinks I need it. I wonder if he's doing it because when he ran off last time it ended up with me leaving his place for Rachel's and him having a panic attack … I hear Dr. Agard's voice in my mind telling us we should stay in separate beds … but he doesn't stop holding me and I don't stop wanting more.

His hands move from my arms to my stomach, dipping under my top, moving lightly over me until my skin pricks with goosebumps. I feel desire build up low down in my abdomen, a dull throb pulsing between my legs and suddenly I don't care about anything else in the world – not Mitchell, not work, not my stupid rule – nothing. I just want to be loved by him. Properly loved.

The lights are low in the room, the walls lined with bookshelves, the floors stacked with boxes of belongings – the story of Harvey's life. His childhood, his college years, his career. Everything about his past is stored in this room from old Harvard memorabilia to Old Ben, his favourite teddy bear. It feels right that we should be here somehow.

He brushes my hair to one side and I feel his mouth on my neck. I freeze for a moment, wondering if this is real. Is he real kissing me? I turn around in his arms … slowly … my eyes locking with his. The warm ceiling light casts soft shadows on his face but I can see a spark in his eyes … a look that tells me he's sure and that he wants this.

I lie on my back, my gaze fixed upon him as he smiles down at me beautifully. I sink into the soft mattress as his hands rise higher, his fingertips brushing over my abdomen, dancing lightly at the edge of my chest and then sweeping back down in circular motions … and then he stops …

I touch his arm, urging him to continue and he bites his bottom lip. "Donna … I need to know you're sure …?" he asks. I answer by raising myself up on my elbows and reaching around his neck. I bring my mouth to his and suck gently on his bottom lip. He returns the kiss with a stronger more urgent one of his own. And suddenly I'm peeling off my top and helping him pull his t-shirt over his head.

He lowers me back down and places kisses from my mouth to my stomach, letting his tongue trail around the peaks of my breasts before returning to my lips. I push my tongue against his, tasting him furiously. One of his hands is under my head, supporting me as his kisses intensify. The other is hand is moulded to my breast, kneading softly, his thumbs rubbing gently over my nipple until it tightens and electrifies my arousal.

We both pull off the rest of our clothing, manoeuvring our legs under the duvet like a couple of sneaky teenagers. I feel his hardness press into my stomach and my breath catches in my throat, but I don't have a second to gasp for air before he starts kissing me again – and then I think I'm only alive because I'm inhaling his breaths.

I feel his hands run over my hips and I respond by raising one leg over his body, moaning into his mouth when I feel his cock pushing against my pelvis. We're both lying on our sides, wrapped up in each other's arms when I feel him guide himself inside me. It's slow and gentle and unlike any sex I've ever had with anybody before, but the tenderness of his touch makes the emotions of the act even more powerful.

Our eyes lock as we slowly move together, building up a slow rhythm. He reaches for my hand and pulls it to his chest, his fingers entwining with mine and holding on tight as his movements speed up. We don't kiss, we don't caress, we don't talk, we just gaze into each other's eyes and let the sensations our bodies are making speak for us.

My breathing quickens as I feel a current of electricity build, ripple, then pulse around me. I feel myself tighten, then shake, then convulse as I cry quietly into the pillow. His body reacts by mirroring mine, and I can see his own climax suddenly erupt. His hand breaks free of my grasp and he withdraws and flips onto his back, making sure we're safe from complicating our impromptu love-making.

I run my hand over his chest as his shallow breathing slowly returns to normal. He wraps his arm around me and kisses my head in that way he does that shows me he loves me and that he'll always be here for me.

I expect him to get up and shower, but he doesn't move. He stays on his back, his arms enveloping me until I start to feel myself drifting off to sleep.