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The restaurant on Hudson smelled like rosemary and money. Sterling had won his case that morning, and the firm was buying. He sat across from me with his tie loosened, laughing at something Marcus said, his hand resting warm on my knee under the table. I watched him the way I always did. The cut of his jaw. The small dimple that only showed when he was genuinely happy. Five years in, and he still made my chest go quiet. Then Daniel from our Columbia class leaned in over his wineglass. "Hey, did you guys hear? Lara's back." The noise of the table kept going.