Harvey almost said no.
Not because he didn't want to go, but because saying no was easier. It saved time. It kept the night clean. It meant he could go home, eat something quiet, and let the week end without any extra effort.
Jake asked like it was nothing.
A passing comment near the elevator. "A few of us are grabbing a drink. You in?"
Harvey hesitated with his bag half on his shoulder.
Emily was nearby, slipping her phone into her pocket. She looked over at them, then away, like she wasn't trying to listen.
Harvey cleared his throat. "Yeah. For a bit."
Jake's face brightened. "That's the spirit."
Emily glanced back at him. "You're going out?"
"Just for one," Harvey said.
She nodded. "Good. You should."
It wasn't dramatic. It wasn't teasing. It sounded like something she meant.
They walked out together, down the lobby stairs and onto the street. The city air hit them, warm and slightly damp, carrying the smell of food from somewhere nearby.
Emily turned at the corner. "Text me when you get home."
"Yeah," Harvey said.
She waved and headed off, pace steady.
Jake waited until Emily was out of earshot, then nudged Harvey lightly with his elbow. "Look at you. Two social plans in one week."
Harvey gave a small smile. "Don't get excited."
Jake laughed. "Too late."
They didn't go far. A bar a few blocks away, the kind with dim lighting and a sticky floor that never fully lost the smell of spilled beer. It wasn't loud enough to shout, but it wasn't quiet enough to think deeply either.
That was probably why Jake liked it.
Two other coworkers were already there. One from their floor, one from another department Harvey had seen in meetings. They greeted him casually and made space at the edge of the booth.
Harvey sat, shoulders slightly tense at first. He ordered a drink without overthinking it.
The conversation stayed light.
Work came up, but only in jokes. Someone complained about a client who couldn't decide what they wanted. Someone else mocked the way David always said "keep it quick" before dragging meetings out anyway.
Jake told a story about a mistake he'd made two years ago, the kind that felt embarrassing in the moment but harmless now. He made it sound fun, like the humiliation was part of the charm.
Harvey listened, then surprised himself by laughing.
It felt good, that simple release. Like unclenching a muscle he hadn't realized was tight.
He took a sip of his drink and let his shoulders drop.
The bar's noise wrapped around them. Not comforting, exactly. Just present. It made silence impossible. It made thought softer.
One of the coworkers asked Harvey about the project. Harvey answered briefly. Not defensive. Not proud. Just factual.
"Sounds like you're handling it," the coworker said.
Harvey nodded. "It's fine."
Jake raised his glass. "He says that like he didn't spend months pretending the email didn't exist."
Harvey looked at him. "I didn't pretend."
Jake grinned. "Sure."
The table laughed, and Harvey felt his face warm slightly. Not from embarrassment, exactly. More from being seen in a way that wasn't professional.
He didn't hate it.
He checked his phone once. No new messages. He put it away again.
The night moved on without any sharp edges.
Around the second drink, Harvey realized he was enjoying himself. Not in a loud way. Not like he was suddenly a different person. Just in the quiet way of being present, responding without rehearsing.
Jake talked about a sports game he had watched. One coworker argued about a movie. Someone teased someone else about their taste in music.
Harvey didn't have to perform. He just existed in the conversation.
He looked at the time and felt a familiar instinct rise. Leave now. Before it gets late. Before the night stretches into something uncertain.
He could stay. No one would care either way. Jake wouldn't judge him for leaving early. Emily wouldn't judge him for staying out.
Still, his hand drifted toward his glass.
"I'm going to head out," Harvey said.
Jake blinked like he hadn't expected it yet, then shrugged. "Alright. Responsible man."
Harvey stood and pulled his jacket on.
Jake leaned in slightly as Harvey stepped away from the booth. "Text me when you get home so I know you didn't get hit by a bus again."
Harvey exhaled a small laugh. "Yeah."
As he walked out, the air outside felt cooler. The street was quieter than the bar, the noise replaced by distant traffic and the occasional burst of laughter from someone passing by.
Harvey walked home without rushing.
He didn't feel sad. He didn't feel relieved. He just felt steady, like the night had loosened something without changing anything important.
At home, he took his shoes off and left them near the door. He went to the kitchen and drank a glass of water, then leaned against the counter for a moment.
His phone buzzed.
Emily: Did you go?
Harvey stared at the message, then typed back.
Yeah. I'm home now.
A few seconds later, she replied.
Good. How was it?
Harvey considered the question.
Fine, he started to type. Then he deleted it.
It was okay. I laughed a little.
Emily replied quickly.
See. You needed that.
Harvey's mouth lifted slightly.
Yeah. Maybe.
He set the phone down and moved toward the bathroom. He washed his face, brushed his teeth, and changed into a T-shirt.
Back in bed, he stared at the ceiling for a moment, listening to the quiet of his apartment.
No words appeared. No system message. Nothing to label the night.
Just the memory of a normal evening, the sound of Jake's laugh, the warmth of Emily's message.
Harvey turned onto his side and closed his eyes.
He fell asleep faster than he had in days.