“Mike, if you want to talk-”
“What would I possibly want to talk about, Harvey? I spent thousands of dollars on her medical care. I worked my ass off every fucking day to make sure she was healthy so I could have her for ten more years. All for a casual phone call from some random woman at her nursing home saying she was dead and that her things could be picked up anytime. She was all I had left, Harvey, and she’s gone.” Mike did a 360 degree turn in Harvey’s office and sat down on the couch, putting his head in his hands and rocking slightly. “She’s gone. I’ve got no one now.”
And in that moment Harvey Specter had never heard anyone sound so miserable in his entire life. And then his associate started to cry. Pitiful, angry, loud tears that slipped from his covered eyes to the tip of his nose and dripped on his not-so-shiny shoes. His shoulders shook rapidly as he let out his hurt and misery. Harvey stood for only a moment before he took the seat next to Mike, placing a tentative hand on his neck and pulling him close. He thought only for a moment about his favorite suit before pulling tighter, letting the other man cry on his shoulder.