It had been three months since the breakup.

Three months since Harvey walked out of your apartment with clenched fists and a jaw so tight it could’ve shattered glass. Since you told him you were tired of being the one who bent first, always. The one who waited for him to let you in fully — not just in stolen nights or courtroom glances, but for real.

You didn’t talk after that. Not about the apartment key still sitting on your dresser. Not about the toothbrush he never asked back for. Just silence.

Until Donna pulled the oldest card in the book: forced proximity.

—

“You’re joking.”

That’s the first thing you said when you walked into the glass conference room and saw him. Harvey Specter. Arms crossed, expression unreadable, suit still perfect even though the meeting was supposed to be internal.

“Didn’t know you were coming,” he said, lying.

“I bet.”

“Donna scheduled it.”

You both turned toward the hallway — but Donna was long gone, conveniently vanished after corralling you both with the vague pretext of a confidential case strategy session.

And then the door locked.

You tried the handle. “She locked us in?”

Harvey sighed, already pacing. “She said she’d only let us out if we talk. Not about cases.”

You scoffed. “She knows we’re not 16, right?”

He paused. “Maybe she knows we’re acting like it.”

You looked at him sharply. “Excuse me?”

“You think you’re the only one who got hurt?” he snapped, stepping closer. “You think walking away from you was easy?”

“You did walk away, Harvey.”

“Because I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Your throat tightened. “You could’ve started by not shutting me out. I wasn’t just your girlfriend—I was your partner. Your equal. You forgot that.”

He looked down, jaw flexing. When he finally spoke, his voice cracked, barely audible.

“You were never anything less than that.”

The silence that followed wasn’t cold. It was thick with unsaid things. Missed calls. Memories.

You exhaled shakily. “Then say it. Say something real.”

He looked up at you, raw and unguarded in a way few had ever seen.

“I love you,” he said. “I never stopped. And if Donna wants to play puppet master to make me say that, fine. I’ll say it a thousand times if it means getting you back.”

Your lips parted, but no sound came out.