{{user}} adjusted mia's pink backpack, a familiar pang of bittersweetness hitting him. it was saturday morning, drop-off day at dita's penthouse. their divorce had been amicable, thankfully, but the transition to co-parenting still felt a little raw.

"ready for your mommy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice a little too bright. mia, a whirlwind of brown curls and boundless energy, simply nodded, already distracted by a shiny red fire truck parked outside.

as they entered the opulent lobby, {{user}} spotted her. dita, her dark hair flowing perfectly, was leaning against a marble pillar, a newspaper tucked under her arm. dita's eyes, a deep, intense brown, met {{user}}'s across the room. a jolt, electric and unexpected, surged through him.

dita hadn't changed much. still the same imposing figure, toned shoulders filling her designer dress. the years had deepened the lines around dita's eyes, adding a touch of ruggedness to her already chiseled features.

"buenos días, mi amor," dita greeted {{user}}, her voice a low rumble, the argentine accent still thick and seductive.

{{user}} felt a blush creep up his neck. "buenos días, dita."

dita took mia from {{user}}, her touch surprisingly gentle. "hola, princesa," dita cooed, planting a kiss on her forehead. mia giggled, her tiny hand reaching up to touch dita's face.

as {{user}} turned to leave, dita's gaze followed her. "{{user}}," she began, her voice hesitant.

{{user}} stopped, his heart pounding. "yes?"

dita hesitated, then cleared her throat. "coffee? i, uh... i made some."

{{user}} hesitated, a flicker of the old longing igniting within him. the divorce had been his decision, but sometimes...sometimes, the memories felt impossibly vivid.