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At the sitting room, on the walls, the picture frame of the triplets and Stephanie caught Peter's eyes. He leaned out from the sofa, exhaling deeply. The smile from Stephanie's face on the frame made his shoulders slouched, chin dropping slightly. The Divorce Papers. Catalina was nothing like this.

He jolted back from his thoughts when Stephanie called out to him. “Wine, coffee or tea. What can I offer you?”

“Coffee would do.” He held onto his phone, one eye still scanning the picture frame.

From behind, Tyler prowled, his steps brisk and calculated. “Is mom expecting a visitor? Who let you in?” He asked, circling the sofa like a merry-go-round.

“Hi Kid. I'm Peter.” He stretched out his hand. “Remember me?” Tyler scrunched his nose. “I need to speak to my mother.” He balled his fist avoiding eye contact as he dashed to the kitchen. One glance after another he looked at the man. Nothing must go wrong.

“Mom. That man out there in the living room..” He pointed towards his direction.

“Relax sweetheart.” She knelt to meet him, hands holding him firmly.

“He only came to drop pizzas. He's leaving soon.”

“But mom.”

“— You would have to trust me with this.” She winced at him but he looked off backing her.

“Stop overthinking Tyler. Come here.” She pulled him closer to her body, stroking his back.

“He's not an enemy. He brought our pizza home. And besides he's my colleague at work.”

“Then why is he still here? We have our pizzas now. He should leave.” Tyler pressed harder.

“He's here to investigate someone. And he needs my help. So please…” She held his both hands. Pleading—anything to make his pulse relax. But he's silent. No reaction. “Go wait for me in the dining room. We won't be long.” She rubbed his head playfully before he turned to move, dragging his feet on the ground.

Stephanie returned with two mugs, the steam curling to the top. She handed one to Peter, their fingers brushed for a second and Peter felt his knuckles snap. The friction. Strong and Inviting. His eyes pierced sharply to her then to his tea.

Stephanie took her own mug from the tray and tucked her legs one after another, sipping it gently.

“So tell me,” She coughed. “What kind of case do you talk about?” She downed the mug on the table then flashed her eyes to the clock. Eight in the evening. Then back to his face.

“Thank you so much for that question.” He leaned out from the sofa, voice cracking slightly.

“My ex-wife wants to take everything I've built. And in six days to Christmas if I can't provide solid evidence and strategic proven records. Then she wins. And I'm left with nothing.”

Stephanie's one foot dropped to the ground. She leaned out from the sofa, her chin raised high. “Were you both legally married? And could you share any valid reason for your divorce?” She leaned back in, shoulders slouched.

Peter paused, his throat burning. Was she going to interrogate me like this? He sipped his tea, clearing his throat.

“Yes we were married. Legally.” The dark circles in his eyes turned white. “It's been seven years.”

“Seven years?” Stephanie re-echoed. “That's a lot.” Her eyes drifted to her and the kids' picture frame. She swallowed briefly.

“There was an accident that happened.” His face fell slightly. And she got to find out. And since then she's used it against me. She says it's a felony.” His lips pressed slightly.

"Could you share more context?" Stephanie asked, studying his face.

Peter's grip on the mug tightened as he shut his eyes and opened it shortly.

"There was a car accident three years ago." His knuckles whitened around the mug. "I was driving. Someone was injured. Catalina found out I'd been drinking that night—just two beers, but still. She's claiming I hid it from her, that it's grounds for fraud in our prenup."

Stephanie's expression shifted. "Were you charged?"

"No. The other driver didn't press charges. But Catalina's lawyers are saying I concealed material facts during our marriage."

"So she wants to use this accident to void your assets?" Stephanie frowned. "That extreme. There has to be more to it."

"There is." Peter's jaw tightened. "But I need someone who can help me make sense of the legal strategy. Someone I can trust."

The word 'trust' hung between them. Stephanie picked up her mug again, buying time. "I'm not a divorce attorney, Peter. I work in corporate law."

"I know. But you understand contracts. Loopholes. That's what I need."

“You know what. Send me every information I need to know about your wife. The Divorce. The Felony. And your marriage data. We'd have to meet again tomorrow. I'll text you the location.”

Relief circled his knees, pushing it down to the ground. “Thank you so much Stephanie. I don't take this for granted.”

“No, please stand up.” She moved to the spot where he knelt with one foot and lifted him to his feet, their clothes brushing against the other.

“I can't promise anything now. But I will take up the matter from tomorrow.” Her voice deepened as their eyes stared into each other. “She can't divorce you and still wants to strip you off everything.” Her eyes lit when Peter's eyes met hers again. The umpteenth time.

Was she really saying all these words to comfort me? His grip on her hand tightened as he felt the ground tilt to different directions his heart longed to be. The room was silent. Staring eyes. Dilating pupils and intense close range. Tyler, Perry and Bryan watched closely from the dining table door area connecting to their room.

“Hope mom doesn't fall for him.” Tyler clenched his fist as Bryan and Perry squealed to their room, shut the door ready to discuss their next plan.