Bad timing

The Ode to Harvey

She was facing the ceiling in her apartment, lying on the bed in her living room for straight three hours. She held an empty martini glass in her right hand. Music from Mahogany sessions was on. She sobbed for an hour. Then she showered, put on her silk robe, and lied for what she planned to be few minutes and it turned into hours. She just felt tired and couldn't get up.

Cece reminded her of a lunch meeting with a client, as she left conference room C after the deposition was over, but she told her to cancel it, quickly entered the office, picked up her bag, and left.

She was completely clueless of what Harvey expected of her to say or do now when he knows this part of a story. She got a cold shiver down her spine on the thought that his judgment might not be in her favor.

She thought about James' words that he never said before that day they met at Skylark, just after he asked her about Harvey.

*If I had known better, I would've run away with you, leaving it all behind. Mess with Hardman. Jules. Fucking Keer. All of them blackmailed me. And if I were to have any integrity then, I would ask you to come away with me now. Right now. I wouldn't look back. Not for a second. 

 He had those monologue episodes in which he would shine. That was one of his best qualities as a lawyer, also. 

*Are you trying to lead me into believing that I should turn my life around and ignoring the past events, hold your hand again? – She asked him then. 

She remained serious, focused, and determinate, even though, for a moment she got lost in time, remembering their best moments together. The series of images from the past clouded his words at that time and all that interrupted the flow of those bittersweet memories was the image of Harvey in front of the door porch of her family house in Chicago.

Harvey, who left behind the firm, Jessica, Mike, Donna, his fellow colleagues. Harvey who was sitting on the couch across her, in peace with silence and darkness into which she drew him.

Harvey, who ran to embrace her in the middle of the night when she broke down and was sobbing the very same night he came to Chicago, telling her that she can always cry in front of him, not seeing it as a weak spot, but the beginning of her acceptance.

Harvey, who hasn't asked for anything but to be by her side.

Harvey, that day on the North Avenue Beach with the sun into his hair, jogging backward alongside the lake shore, mocking her for almost twisting her ankle, hugging her, kissing her softly, again and again, just to show her why he came in the first place.

Harvey, who respected her decisions without trying to turn them around to humor himself.

Harvey, who was unconditionally trying to make her feel calm and satisfied, keeping all of it low-maintenance.

Harvey, who didn't pressure her to state anything. About her father's death, about her way of handling Mike's case, her mother's illness and then death, her untold story of Brawling turbulence. About her feelings for him.

Harvey, who changed her way of thinking about falling into his arms.

Harvey, who deserved explanations.

Harvey, in whose eyes she could see herself in glory, shining.

Harvey, who admired her. Harvey, who holds her tight. Harvey, who loves her.

Blake stood up, slightly pulling her hand out of James', making him jolt and follow her with his sad bright eyes. 

*James. We were done a long time ago. I've never regretted it. And I never will. I'll just ask you to get this thing gone faster than it came out.