Really, I'm amazed I didn't drive my car into something.  Like a nice, sturdy retaining wall.  You know, finish the job Donna started--

That's not true.  I'm not dying.  It may feel like it, but I'm still here.  Bitter irony.

I don't feel here, to be honest.  I feel anchorless.  Weightless.  Un-tethered to reality.

One night with Donna, and the rest of my life makes no sense without her in it.  God, I'm pathetic.

I'm also incredibly angry.

How dare she?

How dare she take me into her arms -- into her bed -- knowing she was about to boot me out?  And how dare she tell me she loves me?  Maybe I could understand her actions if she'd admitted that she doesn't care about me, but to lie and say she loves me?

That's just cruelty.

I never thought of Donna as a cruel woman before today.  Ebullient.  Incisive.  Loquacious.  Intelligent to an almost scary degree.  But cruel?  No.  She's never been anything but empathetic for the underdog, the down-on-their-luck.  Her compassion knows no bounds.

Could I have been wrong about her?  It doesn't seem possible.

Of course, it doesn't seem possible that she would sleep with me and then leave me, but surprise!  She did.

I stumble in my door and shrug out of my jacket.  God, I can still smell her on me, on my clothes, and it brings sudden stinging tears to my eyes.

What the hell am I supposed to do now?  Go in to work tomorrow and pretend nothing happened?  Carry on my normal chatter with Donna as she searches for a replacement?  Like anyone could ever replace her.

I need... something.

I need someone to tell me what I'm supposed to do now.

And since I can't call the person who usually plays that role in my life -- because she's no doubt thanking every deity she can think of that I'm almost out of her life -- I find myself dialing CJ's number.

"Hello?" she answers.

CJ sounds so normal.  How can she sound normal?  Doesn't she know Donna took her star and her gravity and her sparkly space dust and tore them away from me?

"CJ?" I manage.  I certainly don't sound normal.

"Josh?" CJ guesses.  She sounds mildly alarmed.  "What's wrong?"

"CJ," I repeat.  Can't seem to say much else.  "Donna."  Okay, I can say that.

"Josh," CJ yells.  "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" I answer automatically.  "She's -- she's leaving me."

There's silence on the other end, and then CJ says quietly, "Oh, Josh, I'm sorry."

A thought occurs to me.  "Wait -- you knew about this!"  I accuse.  "You knew and you didn't tell me?  You let me go over there and tell her I--"  I stop myself, because really, what good does it do to say it aloud at this point?  That particular admission didn't seem to affect Donna in the slightest.  "How could you let this happen?"

"Are you at home?" CJ demands.

"What?"

"Your condo," CJ says impatiently.  "You're there?"

"Donna kicked me out," I answer.  That's not entirely true.  She didn't actually ask me to leave, but I think jumping up and down on the shattered remnants of my heart amounts to about the same thing.

"Stay there," CJ orders.  "I'm on my way."

"CJ--"

"Shut up, Josh.  Just stay put."

And with that, CJ hangs up on me.

I drop the phone and stare balefully at the empty pizza box still sitting on my coffee table.  Was it really only yesterday that Sam and I did what men do?  Seems like years ago.  Before Donna and I--

Maybe that's how I'll tell time from now on.  Before Donna.  After Donna.  I have a feeling I'm going to like the time B.D. much better than this.  This... this is unbearable.

I collapse onto the couch and close my eyes, and the memories and images of her are inescapable.  Indelible.  Donna's hand on my hip.  Brushing her hair away from her neck to feast on it.  The look on her face as she fell asleep.  Her pale fingers intertwined with mine.  That erotic flush on her alabaster skin.

God.

I grind my palms into my eyes and peel myself off the couch.  Then I take a nice, long, hot shower.  Doesn't help much with the memories, but at least I don't smell like Donna anymore.

Which, come to think of it, is an incredibly depressing thought.

When I shut off the water, I hear banging at my door.  For a brief, shining moment, I think it's Donna.  She has reconsidered her hasty actions and has come running over to apologize.  She has given in to our inextricable gravity.

And then I remember CJ said she was coming over.  I grab a towel and head for the door.

"Come on in," I say, ignoring her amused glance at the towel wrapped haphazardly around my waist.  "I'll be right back."

"I brought food," she calls after me.

"Did you bring any hard liquor?" I yell, dressing hastily.

CJ doesn't answer until I walk back into the living room.  Then she rolls her eyes and says, "Yeah, cause I need to deal with a heartbroken and drunken Josh today."

"Maybe I wouldn't be heartbroken if I was drunk," I reason.  Feebly.  Really I just want an excuse to get obliterated.  "I think an experiment is in order."

With an eloquent look, CJ ignores that ridiculous suggestion and hands me a styrofoam carton.

"What's this?"

"Chinese food," she answers.

I sit down, hard.  Donna suggested Chinese food earlier.

CJ glances over at me and freezes.  "Josh, what happened?"

"What do you think?" I answer.  "I managed to screw things up in less than 24 hours this time around."  I open the carton -- CJ got me beef and snow peas, which I normally love -- and stare at the contents.  Completely uninterested in eating.

"Could you be more specific?" CJ asks carefully around a mouthful of rice.

"What does it matter?" I say listlessly.  "She's leaving.  End of story."

CJ raises an eyebrow.  "She decided to go back to school?"

"Yeah," I answer.  "And I'm still pissed at you for that, by the way.  I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell her about the thing with Joey Lucas either, Josh," CJ points out.  "I don't know why you expect me to betray Donna's confidence but not yours."

I push the snow peas around a bit with a chintzy pair of chopsticks.  "I don't know what you're talking about, CJ.  I didn't tell you anything about Joey Lucas."

"Josh." CJ touches my arm, forcing me to look at her.  "You went on and on about chemical bonds and electrons..." she waves a hand around in the air, "combining or whatever--"

"Mingling," I correct.

She stares at me for a moment.  "Mingling.  It was pretty obvious who you were talking about.  And given the fact that Joey Lucas had just left... well, the catalyst for your sudden realization seemed fairly self-evident."

"Realization?" I scoff.  "I would hardly classify--"

"Josh, give it a rest.  Before that, you were in an almost unbelievable state of denial. Joey Lucas managed to snap you out of it, huh?"

I shrug noncommittally.

CJ gives me a curious look.  "How?"

I nod.  "She said Donna likes me."

"Donna does like you."

I give CJ a bitter smile.  "According to Donna, she loves me."

CJ's brow furrows.  "Who loves you?  Joey Lucas?"

"No.  Donna.  Loves me.  Or so she claims."

CJ nods slowly.  "She does."

"Which explains why she can't wait to move to the other side of the country from me."

CJ ignores my biting tone.  "Did she tell you why she wanted to go -- Where does she want to go?"

I glare at her.  "Berkeley.  Another reason to thank you."

"Josh, I really don't know what to say here.  What did Donna tell you about school?"

"It's not about school," I answer, dropping the container of food onto the table and pushing myself upright.  "It's not that she wants her degree.  Hell, I think she should get her degree!  She's amazingly bright."

CJ nods.  "So what's the problem?  You don't want her to leave D.C.?" she guesses.

"No," I answer quickly.  I meet her gaze and shrug.  "Well, there is that.  But that's not why she kicked me out."  I pace in the space in front of my coffee table.  Restless.  Angry and restless.

"Josh, this conversation is like pulling teeth," CJ observes wryly.  "Cut me a break and tell me why she kicked you out."

I glance over at her.  "She kicked me out because I said I was going to tell Leo."

CJ blinks.  "About you and Donna?"

"Yes."

"You were going to tell Leo?"

"Yes."

"Leo McGarry?" she presses, her eyes wide.

"CJ, why is this so hard to fathom?" I demand angrily.  "Why wouldn't I tell Leo?  Hell, why wouldn't I tell everyone within shouting distance?"

CJ takes a minute to come up with a response, and when she does, she's yelling, "Because, this could be a political nightmare!"

"I don't care!" I yell back.  "This thing with Donna, it's not--"  I stop, a rueful grin on my face.  "It wasn't going to be a tawdry affair."

"I know that, Josh," CJ answers.  "But the perception--"

"Stop it!" I shout.  "I am so goddamned tired of hearing this!  Do you think I don't understand the ramifications of this, CJ?  I put Bartlet in the White House; I've been around a while.  I understand how this works."

CJ watches me for a moment.  "Did it ever occur to you that Donna understands too?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You said it yourself, Josh.  She's incredibly intelligent.  And she's been working for you for three years.  She's got to know how this'll turn out."

I am still lost.  "She said she didn't want me to be fired," I admit.

CJ nods.  "I'm sure she doesn't.  But think about it, Josh.  If this blows up and you end up fired -- if you make the nightly news, the late show monologues -- if you and Donna become a political punchline, who do you think is going to bear the brunt of that?"

And I get it.  Donna will become a joke.  I'll get the winks and the eye rolls and the boys-will-be-boys attitude; Donna will be crucified.  She'll be the slutty secretary fucking her boss for a raise or flex time or -- God.  I can be incredibly stupid.

"Josh?" CJ prompts, rising.  She circles the table and comes to stand beside me, where I've stopped short just in front of the bookcase.  "Are you okay?"

"I can't do that to her," I say.

CJ looks confused.  "Do what?"

"Let her be pilloried in the press," I answer.  "I care too much about her."  I can't say it aloud, but I love her.  I love Donna too much to see her dragged through the mud in a partisan attempt to weaken President Bartlet.

"Josh," CJ says, shaking her head.  "I didn't mean you should--"

"No," I interrupt.  "You were right.  I may be ready to risk my own reputation, but I can't put her through that."  I look over at CJ.  "She's right.  She should leave me."

CJ is shaking her head.  "You're twisting my words--"

"All I can do is hurt her," I point out.  "Donna needs to do what's right for her.  She wants her degree, and she doesn't want to be with me.  And I've got to respect her decision."

CJ argues with me some more, but I've made up my mind.

I will not be the one to hurt Donna.  She may have broken my heart, but I still love her too much to put her through the wringer.

And so I will let her go.  Like that stupid cliché.

Only I'm not naive enough to believe that she'll come back to me.

I can do this.  Who needs a heart anyway?

THE END

03.06.01