4

CHAPTER 4

****Liana****

I woke up before the sun did, long before my alarm had any intention of saving me from my thoughts. The city was quiet, a dark gray against the windows, still sleeping while my mind replayed the same scene over and over: Damien’s eyes in the hallway, that fleeting moment of recognition that hit like something I wasn’t ready to feel again.

I sat up, ran a hand through my hair, and forced myself to breathe.

It was over. The funeral was over. I had done what I came to do.

Now I could disappear again.

At least, that’s what I told myself as I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows on my knees, forcing myself not to check my phone. I barely slept; every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elise’s face. Not the woman in the hospital bed. Not the body lowered into the ground. I saw her the night she dragged me to that bar — the glow in her eyes, the excitement, the way she leaned into Damien’s arm like she never feared a thing in her life.

And I did what I always did: I stepped aside and pretended it didn’t hurt.

I checked the clock — 5:42 AM.

No reason to try and sleep now.

Coffee. Shower. Motion.

That was the only plan that ever worked.

I walked into my tiny apartment kitchen, a far cry from the Ramos townhouse, and brewed coffee that smelled like burnt determination. As I leaned against the counter, I checked the weekend email notifications out of habit.

One subject line made my stomach drop:

> BOARD v. LUCENTE — FULL HEARING MOVED TO MONDAY — PREP REQUIRED

Of course.

The universe never forgets to be cruel.

Lucente — the biggest case we’d taken in months, pitting Cruz & Paredes (my firm) against Ramos & Vale, Damien’s.

I actually laughed. It came out bitter and humorless.

“I’m sorry, Elise,” I whispered to no one. “I swear I did try to stay away.”

I had fought this case for weeks without ever facing Damien in person. Emails. Legal briefs. Conference calls with secondchairs. There are a thousand ways for two lawyers to avoid each other if they try hard enough.

Monday, it looked like that time was up.

X

The knock came at 6:10 AM.

Too early for a neighbor. Too aggressive for delivery.

I opened the door slowly.

Ethan stood there — hair messy, one hand casually tucked in his coat pocket, holding two paper cups of coffee with the other.

“Morning,” he said, like this was normal. Like everyone just showed up uninvited before sunrise.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, but I stepped aside to let him in anyway. Because it was Ethan, and he always had a reason.

“Checking on you,” he said. “Yesterday was heavy.”

Ethan Santos. Co-counsel, confidant, the kind of attorney people underestimated until he tore them apart with a smile. He was always effortlessly put together, annoyingly observant, and had a reputation for showing up exactly when you didn’t want him to — or exactly when you needed him to, depending on how you looked at it.

He set the coffee down on the counter. “I heard about Elise.”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

The question was simple but real. Ethan never went for the shallow social version of that question. He stared too directly for that.

“I don’t know,” I said honestly.

He appreciated honesty. It was one of the reasons we worked well together — in the courtroom, anyway.

He slid a coffee toward me. “Drink. We’ve got a war Monday.”

I blinked. “You know they moved the hearing too.”

He smirked, leaning on the counter. “Of course I do. Ramos isn’t the only one with informants.”

The mention of Damien’s name made something tighten in my chest. Ethan noticed — of course he did.

“What happened yesterday?” he asked, carefully casual.

“Nothing,” I said too quickly. “Just… memories.”

“Mmh,” he murmured, the kind of sound that meant I don’t believe you, but I’ll wait it out.

Ethan never pushed. He always waited for you to hand over the truth willingly.

“We need to finalize the argument structure,” he continued, switching to work mode because he knew I needed it. “I’ll send you the files after eight, but we’ll need to meet with Paredes before lunch.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“And, Liana?”

“Hmm?”

“Whatever this week brings, I’ve got you. You know that, right?”

I met his eyes. And it wasn’t empty reassurance. Ethan didn’t say things he didn’t mean.

“I know,” I said quietly.

He gave me a small smile, one that reached his eyes. “Good.”

He grabbed his cup and walked toward the door, pausing just long enough to look back. “Don’t disappear today.”

I wanted to laugh. “I make no promises.”

He pointed at me, pretending to be stern. “I’ll come looking.”

The door closed behind him, and the apartment felt too quiet again.

I took a long breath and whispered, “Don’t fall for me, Ethan.”

Because he would. Because I could feel it.

And because I couldn’t ruin another life.

X

The Ramos Law Firm towered over the city like it knew it owned everything beneath it. I had driven past it a hundred times, but today the sight made my pulse quicken.

I parked in a downtown garage, checked my hair in the mirror, and chided myself.

Professional. Calm. Untouchable.

I walked across the street to the coffee shop on 5th, the one Elise had always loved. Ava liked it too. Funny how grief turns old routines into new obligations.

Ava sat at a small back table, legs swinging, coloring book open, pencil smudges on her hands.

Oh.

My heart softened instantly.

A babysitter, young and polite, looked exhausted but grateful to see me.

“You didn’t have to bring her,” I told her quietly.

“Mr. Ramos insisted,” she said. “He said Ava needed… familiar faces.”

That stopped me cold.

Damien said that.

He knew. He realized Elise was my friend. He remembered enough to think Ava might need me.

Like I wasn’t just someone passing through.

Ava spotted me and grinned, her whole face lighting up.

“Auntie Li!”

I smiled despite everything and sat beside her. “Whatcha drawing?”

“A dinosaur fighting a lawyer.”

I blinked. “That is very specific.”

She nodded seriously. “Mom said lawyers fight with words and sometimes it's scarier than claws.”

My throat tightened.

Elise. Always dramatic. Always right.

“I like it,” I said softly.

We colored for a long while. I stayed because Ava needed distraction, but also because I needed to breathe.

Eventually, the babysitter checked her phone and whispered, “Mr. Ramos is on his way.”

My stomach flipped.

I straightened, smoothing my blouse, convincing myself to be calm.

Don’t look at the door.

Don’t hope.

Don’t prepare for something you can’t handle.

I looked anyway.

He was taller than I remembered. Not physically — memory never fails there — but presence. Damien always had gravity. A way of walking like the world made room for him.

He saw Ava first. His shoulders softened.

Then he saw me.

The air changed.

“Liana,” he said, voice low, rough, unreadable.

I stood, forcing a neutral expression. “Damien.”

Seeing him in a courtroom was one thing. Seeing him here, in jeans and a dark coat, exhausted and real, was another.

Ava scrambled into his arms, and he lifted her effortlessly, kissing the top of her head like it was second nature.

“Elise would’ve liked this,” I said quietly, surprising myself with the honesty.

His eyes flickered to mine. “She would’ve.”

Silence stretched, heavy and charged.

Damien cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you for yesterday. For… everything you said to Ava.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” I said. “She needed someone who wasn’t grieving like everyone else.”

He nodded. A muscle in his jaw tightened.

“Do you have a minute?” he asked.

The babysitter immediately stood. “We’ll go wash hands!”

She whisked Ava away, leaving me with the ticking wall clock and Damien Ramos.

He ran a hand through his hair. “I know we have court Monday. I know this is probably the worst time to talk about anything other than the case, but—”

I cut him off. “Don’t apologize.”

He froze a little, like my voice startled him.

“I wasn’t going to,” he said after a beat.

Right. Damien didn’t apologize. Not for small things.

He stepped closer. Not enough to invade my space, but enough to feel him there.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted.

“Do what?” I whispered.

“See you again.”

My heartbeat felt like a hammer.

“I didn’t expect to,” I said, truth spilling before I could stop it. “Ever.”

A long exhale escaped him, like he’d been holding that breath for years.

“We were supposed to talk,” he said, voice almost fragile. “Back then. Before…”

Before the bar. Before Elise. Before everything turned into a chain reaction of regret.

“We can’t rewrite it,” I whispered.

“I know.”

There was a long pause. Then Damien looked me straight in the eye, vulnerability stark and undeniable.

“But it’s here now.”

A strange warmth spiraled through me — dangerous, wild, familiar.

“Damien,” I started carefully, “this isn’t a good idea.”

His lips quirked, not a smile, something sharper. “Probably not.”

The babysitter returned with Ava, thank God, breaking the moment before it could become something neither of us could take back.

Ava tugged my sleeve. “Daddy says we can go to the museum later. You come?”

Damien stiffened, surprised, and I knew he hadn’t planned for Ava to ask that.

My pulse jumped.

I looked at Damien. I waited for him to say no. For him to retreat. For him to do the rational, safe thing.

Instead, he held my gaze and said, very softly:

“She can come.”

Something shifted, right there in that ordinary coffee shop on 5th Street.

The past didn’t disappear.

But it opened a door.

X

When I finally left, my phone buzzed with a message from Ethan:

> WHERE ARE YOU? Paredes wants you in the office asap. And I need your brain before I commit murder in a professional setting.

A second message followed:

> Also. Coffee. Already on your desk. Don’t make me drink it for you.

I smiled without meaning to.

Suddenly I was between two men.

One from the past I never healed from.

One from the present I didn’t want to hurt.

And a case on Monday that would force all three worlds to collide.

For the first time in a long time…

I wasn’t sure who I was fighting — or what I wanted to win.