“Then we'll document all of that.” Reeves looked at him directly. “Your parents are banking on you not having theresources to fight back. They think they can bully you into giving up because legal battles are expensive and exhausting. But if you're willing to fight, we can beat them.”
“How expensive are we talking?” Soren asked, and I could hear the resignation creeping into his voice.
“For a case like this, with the potential for it to drag out over several months—probably between twenty and thirty thousand.”
Soren went pale. “I don't have that.”
“I do,” I said, and felt him turn to stare at me. “I'll cover it.”
“Rook—”
“We're not having this argument again.” I looked at Reeves. “Send me the retainer invoice. I'll handle it.”
She nodded like this was the most normal thing in the world, and maybe in her line of work it was. People with money stepping in to fund other people's legal battles because the system was designed to bankrupt anyone who couldn't afford to play.
“There's one more thing,” Reeves said, flipping to a new page in her notes. “Your parents' lawyer is going to try to paint you in the worst possible light. That means they'll dig into your personal life, your relationships, anything they can use to build a narrative that you're unstable or irresponsible.”
“What does that mean?” Soren asked.
“It means they might ask about your dating history, your living situation, who you spend time with. They're looking for ammunition.” She glanced between us, and I realized she'd clocked the hand-holding and the way we were sitting close enough that our shoulders touched. “If there's anything in your personal life that could be used against you, now's the time to tell me.”
Soren looked at me, and I could see the question in his eyes. I squeezed his hand and turned to Reeves.
“We're together,” I said. “That might complicate things.”
“Are you out?” she asked me directly.
“Not publicly. But I'm working on it.”
She nodded slowly, making another note. “That could be used against you, Soren. They could argue that you're in an unstable relationship, or that you're exposing Poppy to—” She paused, clearly choosing her words carefully. “—situations they disapprove of.”
“They can disapprove all they want,” Soren said, and there was steel in his voice now. “I'm not hiding who I am to make them comfortable.”
“Good,” Reeves said. “Because hiding it would make it worse. If you're going to do this, you need to own it. Be clear that you're in a stable, committed relationship with someone who cares about your family's wellbeing. That's a strength, not a weakness.”
The meeting ran another thirty minutes, covering logistics and timelines and the mountain of documentation we'd need to gather. By the time we walked out, my head was spinning with information and Soren looked wrung out.
We didn't talk on the elevator ride down. Didn't talk in the parking garage or on the drive out of the city. It wasn't until we were halfway back to the coast house that Soren finally broke the silence.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
“You don't have to thank me.”
“Yeah, I do.” He was still holding my hand, his grip tighter than before. “You're putting your career on the line for this. For me. That's—I don't know how to process that.”
“My career isn't on the line.”
“Rook.” He turned in his seat to look at me. “You know what'll happen if you come out. The media shitstorm, the scrutiny, all of it. And you're doing it anyway.”
“I'm doing it because I want to be with you,” I said.
“Rook…”
“I'm not saying I'm ready to hold a press conference tomorrow,” I continued. “I need to talk to Coach first. Probably the team. Figure out how to do this without it turning into a three-ring circus like what happened to them. But I'm done pretending this isn't real.”
Soren was quiet for a long moment, and when he finally spoke his voice was rough. “What if I'm not worth all that?”
I pulled off the highway onto the shoulder and put the car in park, turning to face him fully. “Don't do that.”
