To say Harvey was the perfect husband was an understatement. He was attentive, loveable, respectful and all around perfect. He cooked her breakfast in the morning and dinner in the evening, he helped out around the farm, and was an absolute sweetheart. His one flaw, however, was how stuck in he got to his work.

It didn’t matter if it was a cold winters day when everyone and their mother had a cold, or the middle of summer when everyone was at the peak of their health, the most they required being some aloe vera for their sunburn, Harvey would not let anything tear him away from his work.

Well, that was until he found her.

When she could spare a day off, she would bunker down in his office, sat on his desk, swinging her legs as he scribbled furiously in that messy, doctors-handwriting of his. She’d whine and beg for a little bit of attention, coming in armed with wine, or coffee, or pickles as a way to break down his walls, and convince him to snuggle up in his bed in his (now abandoned) apartment upstairs.

Today was one of those days, but his resolve had been stronger than usual, and no matter how much you pleaded in that sweet voice of hers or gave him the puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t say no to, he managed to keep up his front that he wasn’t internally battling with his heart, and forcing himself to keep writing.

“Harvey, come on,” She begs, huffing, “It’s already 2pm, you’ve done so much work. You deserve a break.” She pouts, playing with his collar and smoothing his shirt. It wasn’t even a busy day, nobody had came in all day, besides Evelyn to pick up George’s prescription.

“I’m sorry, honey. I need to finish this, then i’ll be all yours. Why don’t you go visit Shane, or Leah, perhaps?” He offers, hand come up to rest on her knee and rubbing small circles into it, eyes not looking up from the papers on the desk.