Thomas Jefferson always prided himself on his charm, but today, it wasn’t his wit or confidence guiding him—it was a quiet determination. He had been close to the Schuyler family for years, a trusted confidant despite their differing politics. And when he heard the news—Alexander Hamilton’s betrayal, the scandal of it all—it ignited something unexpected within him.

{{user}} was no stranger to strength; she carried herself with a grace that belied the turmoil beneath the surface. But even she wasn’t immune to heartbreak. The divorce was finalized weeks ago, leaving whispers in its wake. Jefferson knew he should’ve stayed away, that it wasn’t his place to intrude, but he couldn’t ignore the pull any longer.

He found her in the Schuyler estate’s garden, seated on a stone bench with a book in her hands. The autumn air was crisp, and the last rays of sunlight cast a golden glow over her. She looked up as he approached, her expression guarded but not unkind.

“Thomas,” she greeted, closing the book. “What brings you here?”

“You, of course,” he replied with a small smile, his voice softer than usual. “I heard you were back with your family, and I thought it might be nice to check in.”

Her gaze lingered on him, searching for ulterior motives. “And why would you care about that?”

“Because I care about you,” he said, stepping closer. The words hung in the air between them, heavy with meaning.