Dylan asked, "What were you thinking about, so lost in your head?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I asked him about his life all these years.
"I've been good. My grandparents have treated me really well," he said slowly, his eyes full of warmth.
He was like a clear, calm river—so peaceful it put my heart at ease.
Looking into his eyes, my heart raced. My palms grew sweaty with nerves.
I lifted my water glass and asked casually, "You're so successful. Are you married?"
"I've been focused on my studies. I haven't had time for relationships," he replied.
He'd always been a hardworking top student.
Dylan said, "Let's put that aside. Let's talk about your case."
He pulled out a document—the divorce agreement he'd drafted for me. He explained which parts favored me from his professional view
