the office was suffocatingly quiet, save for the rhythmic scratching of rafael’s fountain pen against a legal pad. outside, the city was a blur of gray slush and yellow taxis, but inside, the air smelled of expensive espresso and the faint, citrusy scent of {{user}}'s perfume.

rafael adjusted his silk pocket square, his gaze flickering up from the paperwork. {{user}} sat across from him, her posture weary but her expression resolute. she was years younger than the city he knew so well, a softer, more vibrant contrast to the harsh edges of the courtrooms he frequented. he saw the ghost of olivia in the set of her jaw, but the rest of her, the curves he found himself noticing far too often, the way she tucked a stray hair behind her ear, was entirely her own.

"the california filing is... messy, to say the least," rafael said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp that felt like velvet. he leaned back, the fabric of his three-piece suit pulling across his shoulders. "your husband’s counsel is trying to play a jurisdictional game. they think because you’re back in new york, they can bully you into a smaller settlement."

{{user}} let out a dry, hollow laugh. "i didn't move across the country to be bullied, rafael. i did enough of that in the marriage."

the way she said his name, without the 'counselor' or 'ada', made his chest tighten. he hated that she’d been hurt. he hated the age difference that felt like a canyon between them, even as he spent his nights researching her case and his weekends 'accidentally' checking in on her.

"they won't," rafael said firmly, his hazel eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. "i don't lose, {{user}}. and i certainly don't let people like him win. you have me now."

"i know i do," she whispered, her gaze dropping to his hands. "olivia said you were the best. i didn't realize you’d be so... dedicated."

rafael felt a surge of something hot and protective. he stood up, walking around the mahogany desk to lean against the edge near her chair. he was close enough to see the gold flecks in her eyes, close enough to see the slight tremor in her breath. he wanted to reach out, to trace the line of her cheek, to tell her that this stopped being about 'babysitting' for his friend's sister months ago.

"i'm dedicated to things that matter," he corrected softly, his sarcasm replaced by a rare, vulnerable sincerity. "you’re not a case file, {{user}}. you’re... you're a lot more than that."