the neon glow of las vegas bled into {{user}}'s small apartment window, a stark contrast to the soft, sleepy warmth of her daughter, mia, nestled in her arms. mia's dark curls. a sigh escaped her lips. it was late, and she was exhausted, the weight of single motherhood pressing down on her.

a solid knock echoed through the apartment, a familiar rhythm that sent a flutter of unease and a strange warmth through her. it was ivan.

she carefully placed mia in her crib, the soft padding muffling the slight thump, and went to the door. ivan stood there, a mountain of a man in a tailored suit, his dark hair slightly ruffled, his brown eyes, usually alight with laughter, shadowed with concern.

"{{user}}," he said, his voice a low rumble, the spanish accent thick with concern. "you didn't answer my calls."

"i was putting mia to sleep," she replied, her voice a little sharper than intended. "it's late, ivan."

he stepped inside, the scent of expensive cologne and a hint of cigar smoke filling the small space. he glanced at the sleeping mia, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

"she's beautiful," he murmured, his voice softening. "just like her mother."

{{user}} felt a blush creep up her neck. he always knew how to make her feel… something. even after everything.

"what do you want, ivan?" she asked, crossing her arms.

he pulled an envelope from his inner jacket pocket and held it out to her. "the purse from my last fight on a card. it's more than enough to cover rent, groceries, whatever you need."

"ivan, i told you, i can manage," she said, pushing the envelope back. "i'm not going to keep taking your money."

"it's for mia," he insisted, his eyes meeting hers. "and for you. i know it's been hard."

"it's been hard because you won't let me be independent," she retorted, her voice rising slightly. "you're always here, always paying for things, always… hovering."

his jaw tightened, the strong line becoming even more pronounced. "hovering? i'm trying to help. i love you, {{user}}. i always have."