I wake up to Buck barking for me to let him out around seven and decide that I might as well start my day.

Our trial continues today, and I can't lie; I'm feeling pretty stressed. The prosecution piled on some last-minute evidence that I had to review after the concert with Scarlett.

After I dropped her off around two in the morning, I reviewed the new material with Adelaide at the office for two hours and then attempted to get as much sleep as possible before court.

I take out the dogs and make myself a lot of coffee. Strong, strong coffee. Lord knows I'm gonna need it.

I want to text Scarlett "good morning," but between my weird protectiveness last night and my random fucking need to compliment her all the time, I decided against it. I don't want to scare her off by getting all clingy.

That's the thing, though. I am not a clingy guy. I'm detached and full of commitment issues, but suddenly I'm this love-struck high school kid contemplating my prom-posal.

I need to get my shit together.

I eat a quick breakfast and feed the dogs before gathering my notes and heading to court. I park outside the familiar building, grabbing my shit and preparing to go in when my phone buzzes.

Good luck today :)

Her simple text made my face light up like a fucking Christmas tree. Three simple words are all it took for my mood to change completely.

Thanks, beautiful. Have a good day.

I respond and switch off my phone, heading inside and meeting Mrs. Adelaide and our client, Mitch. Mitch had the cleanest record of any client I'd seen Adelaide take until now. He's being charged with manslaughter and two other complimenting charges.

I know he's innocent, though, and today we'll prove that. Adelaide will prove it. She's one of the best in the state, and the prosecutor knows it. He looks to be about the same age as Adelaide, but his mess of a counsel table and his shaky hands show me that he is nervous.

He should be. Adelaide doesn't hold back, especially with the clients she resonates with. I know she has a rough background, somehow seeing a bit of herself in Mitch. I think that's why she has been snippy and stressed lately.

Adelaide and Mitch share a few words, whispering to one another while giving the new evidence one final look.

Here we go, I guess.

We spend the day in court listening to the prosecution's case, getting their key points and two main witness testimonies out of the way. Maybe I'm biased, but none of their "evidence" was very concrete.

I won't get into the specifics, but Mitch really needs some new friends. "Friends" that manipulate you into taking the fall for their murder? Pretty shitty friends. Of course, he didn't tell us that fact right away, but it was easy to interrogate out of him.

Regardless, the prosecution isn't going to give up, and they happen to have a pretty compelling case, so it's my job to cross my T's tonight and ensure Adelaide wins this case.

Having loose ends is not a possibility. Everything needs to be clear. It's for that reason that I am stuck at the office until almost nine at night.

I finally make it home, absolutely exhausted, and head straight to my bed after taking care of the dogs.

As soon as my head hits the pillow, I'm out, the exhaustion piling up over the last few days getting the best of me.

-- --

It's not until I'm drunk and celebrating our victory in court that I realize I haven't spoken to Scarlett in three days. I haven't gone to 25 Hours; I haven't texted or called. It simply slipped my mind.

I've been so caught up in this trial that I didn't even think to call. I'm a shitty person. I didn't even text.

As much as I'd love to stay and celebrate Mitch's innocence, I say goodbye to him and Adelaide and leave the bar in a rush.

It's after midnight, but I'm hoping she'll still be there. I want to see her. I miss her face. God, her face. She might as well be an angel incarnate.

I stumble my way to the cafe, talking to myself as I roam the streets of the city, kind of drunk. I'm not a heavy drinker, but damn we needed a celebration. The trial was much shorter than expected, but it was pretty much a slam-dunk, anyway.

I finally make it to 24 hours, wait 25 hours, and pull open the door. I look right at the small wooden table in its usual corner and there she is. Her brunette hair covering her face as she writes diligently in her journal.

How is it that she is so beautiful, even without trying? I've never seen a woman like her. I missed her. I am a pathetic man, but I don't care.

I walk up to her, trying to sober myself as much as possible, so I don't say something stupid like I don't know, drunkenly confess that I think she's a walking, breathing angel in disguise.

Yeah, definitely don't say that.

I sit down, loudly placing my elbows on the table and resting my head in my hands, looking at her. She has yet to look up, but I can practically melt under her chocolate eyes when she does.

"Hi," she says. She looks shocked like she didn't expect me to be here.

Fuck. I really should've texted her.

"Hi," I smile. "I missed you. I'm sorry I didn't call, or text, or anything really. You should still talk to me, though. I swear I won't do it again." I don't even know what the fuck I am saying right now. Her eyes are too distracting.

"You're back?" That is all she responds with.

"Yeah, I'm back."

--

Hi friends :) This chapter is more of a filler to give you an idea of Zayn's job and his work ethic. I hope you enjoyed it- don't worry, I'm posting another chapter right after this with juicy scenes.

Thank you for reading!