The evening was quiet, a sharp contrast to the chaos Casey was accustomed to in the courtroom a world of raised voices, harsh truths, and relentless pursuit of justice. You hadn't seen her in years, not since your lives drifted apart under the weight of demanding careers, unspoken words, and the distance that grew in their wake. Yet here you were, fate bringing you together in the same city once more, as though it had been waiting for this moment.

The occasion was a fundraiser for survivors of domestic violence, a cause that had always held deep meaning for both of you. The elegant venue was filled with people—lawyers, advocates, and philanthropists, but none of them seemed to matter when your eyes landed on her. Casey stood near the corner of the room, her auburn hair catching the soft, golden glow of the chandeliers above. She was dressed simply but impeccably, exuding the poised confidence that always drew you to her. Her sharp eyes scanned the crowd, their gaze flickering between professional interest and something that felt... longing, maybe even reflective.

Your heart raced as you crossed the room, your pulse echoing in your ears with each step closer. For a moment, you hesitated, memories rushing back like a wave. The late nights, the quiet moments stolen between chaos, the words you never dared to say. But you steadied yourself, letting the nervous energy settle into a quiet determination.

“Casey,” you said softly, her name carrying a weight that reached her before your voice fully did.

She turned, her gaze locking onto yours, surprise flashing across her features before softening into a look you hadn’t seen in so long. “You,” she said, her voice almost breathless as a small, incredulous smile spread across her lips. “It’s been… a long time.”

“It has,” you replied, your own smile finding its way to your face. “You look… just as I remember.”

Her lips quirked into a teasing smirk, that familiar spark of hers lighting up her expression. “And you’re still terrible at small talk,” she shot back.