131 Don’t Stand So Close To Me

I would invent a universe for you today
If she was not already my star
and I would dearly love you
if not for her.

You’re the sweet company
But in your painted red, beguiling smile
It is only her honeyed smile that I see

You’re the sweet temptation,
testing my strength and will
the force that pushes me
to be unfaithful,

Do not,
I love only her,
My universe is she
nothing more

You’re the adventure, laughter, tenderness
All that I experienced with you
while she was in solitude waiting,
wishing for time to finally unite us.

You’re the butterfly flying among the roses
that is the foundation of my home
you’re butterfly flying among the roses
and she is the foundation of my home.

I was lost in silence when I was with you
Trying not to think a lot about her
While I kept my current my eyes on you,
Yet I would still be seeing her in my mind

Don’t feel my resistance was an act of cowardice
There are some things in life
there are things in life
that are only for only two,
only two.

Lies are not compatible
With something as transparent, beautiful and fragile
As real love

No,
I love only her,
My universe is she
nothing more

You’re the butterfly flying among the roses
that is the foundation of my home
you’re the butterfly flying among the roses
and she is the foundation of my home.

Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth
Wright Talent Agency
April 20, 2026

Had the scene been set in Japan, the terse silence following Phoenix’s judicious question could have easily been referred to as Showdown in Little Tokyo.

However, since the two best friends weren’t in the land of the rising sun, but in Los Angeles, the militant eyeball-to-eyeball stance between the two men could have more accurately been described as Stare Down in Japalifornia, as determined navy orbs locked against unyielding gun-metal ones.

The pianist mimicked Edgeworth’s defiant stance of folding his arms across his chest as the two men continued their mutually unblinking stand-off, with the cravat crusader of justice still maintaining his obstinate stance and refusing to break the strained pause that had followed the former defense attorney’s seemingly unobjectionable query about what had really brought him back home to LA.

Meanwhile, the former King of the Turnabout was steadily fuming about the magenta-wearer’s pig-headed tenacity!

Un-be-freakin-lievable! I always knew the blasted man could be as stubborn as I am when he chooses to be – we’re two of a kind that way – but this is ridiculous! Something’s got to give, and most of the time, it’s me! Nevertheless, there’s no way in hell I’m giving up on finding out the truth this time! Friendship is supposed to be a two-way street, all about give-and-take! Apparently, there is a gross imbalance in this alliance if Edgeworth thinks our bond consists of him being allowed to ask all the invasive questions he pleases, while I’m obliged to answer them, regardless of how painful it is! Yet when the tables get turned, apparently he’s authorized to clam up whenever he sees fit to do so! No way! Not so fast! This time … I call… umbrage!

“I don’t have work tonight, and it’ll be quite a while before my daughter is due back home from The Wonder Bar,” he loftily informed the Mulish One. “Similarly to the lofty proclamation that you had all the time in the world to hang around in anticipation for me to finally profess about what was going on, I can disclose, ipso facto, that since being disbarred and losing Maya … I have no life! Hence, I also can just as easily remain here and play the waiting game all night if need be, until you decide to confess what brought you back home, ahead of schedule, even though it meant leaving your family behind!”

His dialogue partner merely eyed him mutely, arms crossed, one finger tapping on his bicep in a trademarked grand gesture of impatience.

Meanwhile, the poker champion was awaiting his companion’s reaction with bated breath, wondering if he was going to call his bluff and subject him to a whole night of a stalemate stare-down!

Eventually, though, the other man shook his head and let out a rueful chuckle.

I see you’re still as maddeningly, and admirably, as tenacious as ever, my dear Muckspout. Luckily for you, I’ve decided I find it endearing.

“Say it again, Wright.”

“What?!” The hobo gaped at him in confusion.

“What you just said to me a few minutes ago,” Edgeworth smirked. “I’m not sure I heard you properly, so please repeat that last statement … But only the first part.”

Still bewildered, and with considerably less conviction, as well as minus the pointed courtroom finger this time, the former defense attorney haltingly repeated the initial part of his query.

“I want the truth!”

“You can’t handle the truth!”

This time, it was the card shark’s turn to a groan.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Edgeworth! I know I’m pretty bad with the puns at times, like the one I always make about my last name, but seriously? You finally respond to me, and it’s with a freakin line’ from Jack Nicholson’s 90’s flick?!”

“You’re the one who commenced the usual lawyer theatrics during this interrogation turned persiflage session,” the DA shrugged with deliberate irreverence.

“I was an art student minoring in Shakespearean theatre in college. Dramatic temerity goes with the territory!”

“Consequently, I presumed that I, too, could roll with the punches and enhance said iconic cinema scene by utilizing the rest of the famous dialogue from the all-star courtroom drama.”

“I don’t know why I had to resort to scrutator tactics just to get you to answer a mere question in the first place!” Phoenix treated the prosecutor to his best withering stare. “After all, due to the ferocity of your relentless haranguing methods, I poured out my goddamn soul to you, Edgeworth! Turnabout is fair play! Now start talking!”

“If you expect the world to be fair with you because you are fair, you’re fooling yourself, Wright. That’s like expecting the lion not to eat you because you didn’t eat him.”

The other man’s mocking tone only made Phoenix even more frustrated, as well as slightly hurt.

“I learned the hard way, a long time ago, that the world is not a fair place, and I no longer expect it to be one,” he replied quietly. “But I do expect equally fair treatment from the man who is supposed to be my best friend, with whom I’d presumed there were no boundaries, and hence, believed we could tell one another anything and everything.”

“It’s none of your damn business, Wright!” The former Demon Prosecutor bristled, with the unintentional irony of mimicking the pianist’s previous retort to the invasive inquiry.

“Don’t you dare try throwing my lines back at me!” The Baron of Bluffing countered. “Get your own scriptwriter, damn it! There’s a surplus of them desirous of catching a break in this town!”

Edgeworth didn’t bother replying to this, and his ongoing and insufferable recalcitrance only further intensified the sharp pang of being rebuked in such a manner, accompanied by utter bemusement. Even though the prosecutor’s visage currently resembled one of the stone faces of Mount Rushmore, Phoenix also could see that beneath the surface, those hardened twin flints were desperately trying to mask the obvious anguish and hidden trauma within them.

I know you’ve been through hell in your life, Edgeworth. But against all odds, you never let it break you. You just kept right on persevering. Like myself, you were always a pursuer of truth and justice. A true fighter. Hell – you were in the law game even longer than me, so while I was a mere fighter, you were a full-blown, legal crusade warrior! Nonetheless, even actual men of war take off their armor once in a while, and still, you stand on guard, even off the battlefield. I see glimpses of the man underneath that defense wall – but then you insist on covering it up, to shield your true self from me.

Phoenix couldn’t squelch the pang he experienced at being shut out in such a manner.

To see you hide in such a manner when conversely, I have fully trusted you enough to allow myself to share all that I am, is a beyond gut-wrenching wound in my soul. Trying to connect with you right now feels like journeying toward a mirage and I despair that this desert will never end. How can I assist with your plight, just as you just aided me with my own? Edgeworth, you and I are childhood best friends who are supposed to be bound by trust, which is so foundational to all human relationships. Dear friend, what can I possibly say or do that will allow you to put your trust in me, and unload this burden of sorrowfulness that you are harboring within?

“Edgeworth, why won’t you confide in me, the same way you coerced me to confide in you?”

The prosecutor continued to keep mum, so Phoenix couldn’t resist one final stab at ridiculousness.

“You should know by now that you can entrust me with anything! Hell, according to you, I’m part of that rare, elusive lot of A Few Good Men out there!”

The prosecutor’s stoical expression wavered ever so slightly at the one-liner, into an almost smile. Nevertheless, he continued to remain silent, abstracted, with his eyes full of inquietude and wandering with perpetual restlessness.

The hobo had reached the end of his rope. He had zero Promethean tactics of his own to pry open that inveterate mouth, which seemed determined to remain tightly sealed! It was time for a good old-fashioned case of tit-for-tat.

“Maya and I shared a lot of the same friend and contact information, having been together so long, you know,” he said casually, causing the other man’s eyes to unexpectedly narrow in suspicion at the abrupt change in conversation topics. “I believe that would also include Franziska’s phone number and email address. Perhaps I can go the roundabout way of retrieving sought-after information by simply asking the future Mrs. Edgeworth how she feels about her petulant future benedict being halfway across the world, while she is left behind with your baby daughter?”

The baiting statement seemed to be just the push that had been needed to get a reaction out of the charcoal-haired man, who leaped to his feet off the sofa, courtroom finger already extended in the ready position.

“Objection!”

“Overruled!” Phoenix glared at the legist. “On exactly what grounds do you have the gall to demur, you freaking hypocrite? Is it my use of the very same antics that you did to coax a response out of me?!”

“I was hoping to come up with some sort of non-hypocritical syllogism while I was objecting, Wright.” Edgeworth looked somewhat chastened by the response. “Alas, I didn’t.”

“I didn’t think so.” The beanie-man was smirking as he stood in his familiar akimbo courtroom pose. “So, does this mean you’re at last ready to break your vow of silence and answer my question, or am I likelier to get a more accurate response by contacting your better half?”

“I admire the sentiment behind your zeloso approach if nothing else, my well-meaning,
ultracrepidarian mate.” Despite the twinge of amusement gleaming in the normally inscrutable orbs at his friend’s earnestness to help, Edgeworth’s cadence was completely wooden.

Before the flummoxed pianist could demand the meaning of those pretentious-sounding words or insist Edgeworth immediately cease speaking like a walking Poindexter dictionary, the prosecutor closed his eyes and let out a torpid sigh.

“Forsooth, it is with great regret that I say the following; if I truly believed you would be able to reach
Franziska Von Karma, or that she would actually reply to attempted contact from you, of all people, I would tell you to go ahead with my full blessing. However, as I have zero inkling of her whereabouts, myself, I’d say that point is moot.”

Having just had his previous facetiae attempts fully vanquished, the now anxious Phoenix scrutinized the other man’s grim face, wondering if he hadn’t misunderstood what he’d just heard.

“I find myself quite perplexed by what you’re implying,” he began slowly. “In your less charitable moments, you’ve flat-out accused me of being slower than a snail on a treadmill on more than one occasion. Therefore, I’m sincerely hoping such is the case once more, and that I’ve wrongfully interpreted what you’re trying to tell me.”

“What precisely do you believe eludes your comprehension?” The typically refined voice now carried a sense of brittleness.

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounded very much like you were saying you didn’t know where or how to get a hold of your fiancée.”

“That is exactly what I’m trying to tell you.”

Edgeworth’s arms were still folded tightly across his chest, but his head was turned to the side as he spoke in a brusque tone, while purposefully avoiding eye contact with the completely thunderstruck pianist.

“My countless efforts to reach my betrothed this past year were all exercises in futility. I exhausted every possible option in trying to connect with her; even tried to call her sister, but to no avail. I was unable to touch base with her during the whole time I was undercover.”

“But weren’t you underground for – hold the phone! Franziska has been missing for a year?!” Phoenix’s eyes were like saucers. “Then why do you sound so blasé?! Shouldn’t you – we?! – Be worried?”

“Believe me, I was filled with the greatest sense of unease,” the cravat-wearer replied flatly. “That sensation quickly abated, however, when I returned to my home in Germany a week ago and discovered she was no longer residing there and hadn’t been for almost the past twelve months.”

“I’ll be Jitterbugged!” The ex-attorney was completely floored. “You’ve got to be shitting me, Edgeworth!”

“Wright, you should know by now that as much as I’m no bluffer, I’ve never been a joker of any sort, either.”

Although the prosecutor never raised his voice, his hardened eyes were now devoid of any emotion.

“Allow me to make it clearer so that you fully understand what I’m trying to convey to you, Wright.” The slate orbs were twin chips of ice. “It is with a heavy heart that I inform you that Franziska Von Karma is gone. Her impromptu decision to conveniently disappear from the home we shared during my absence was not only unexpected but also the last thing in the world I ever could have wanted. Unfortunately, as determined by her browser history, her mind was long since made up regarding the matter, ergo my viewpoint mattered naught to her in the least.”

“You seriously didn’t see this coming? Before you left for your top-secret assignment, are you sure you didn’t give her any reason to think that perhaps this was something that you wanted at all?”

“Not in the least. With foolish naïveté, I’d assumed my farewell exchange with her was the sweetest sorrow known to man and that I would return home to her loving arms, not an empty house. By my elbow and my wig, I was downright blindsided by all of this.”

Edgeworth let out a harsh, mirthless laugh.

“I assure you, her unprecedented severing of our ties was a choice entirely of her own volition. This was evidenced by not only her betrothal ring left at my bedside but also clearly stated in the accompanying Dear John letter, with no forwarding address or phone number.”

“I still can’t believe this!” Phoenix flopped back down on the couch; the weight of this mind-blowing news was a bit too much for him to digest while still standing. “A letter?!”

“You heard me.” Edgeworth clenched his jaw. “After all was said and done, I wasn’t deserving enough to get even  a courtesy phone call or a clean, in-person break, which I most certainly thought I would be entitled to after eight bloody years.”

In the end, Franziska chose the most underhanded and cowardly method to conclude her relationship with a devoted swain who loved her enough to want to spend the rest of his life with her. Rather than a respectful, face-to-face breakup, she opted for a covert departure, slithering off and leaving behind a trite, sentimental billet-doux as if we had only engaged in a nearly decade-long epistolary exchange!

Phoenix’s shock had subsided by now and was replaced by righteous indignation on his best friend’s behalf.

Miles Edgeworth deserved far better than the unjust, callous treatment he received. Franziska Von Karma, without a shred of doubt, earns the title of the most utterly iniquitous, spurious, and coldhearted bitch alive! Of course, verbalizing such sentiments is out of the question, but I certainly can’t help but think it! The last time I uttered those words, I was met with a swift uppercut, and I have zero inclination to relive that experience, especially considering Edgeworth’s formidable punch, which far surpasses Apollo’s. I’ve endured enough physical onslaughts for today. Nevertheless, one can’t help but feel sympathy for the guy. It’s no wonder he appears so withdrawn and fatigued.

“So is that why you decided to get out of the country early and just come back home?” Phoenix asked sympathetically. “Because it was too painful to stay in that empty house you shared?”

“Indeed, that was most definitely one of the reasons…” Edgeworth answered in a saturnine manner, jamming his hands into his pockets and staring down at the ground.

Among… other things …

Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye
Von Karma Estate, Germany
April 14, 2026

“I don’t care to think about what she was thinking anymore.” He squeezed his stinging eyes shut. “Franziska Von Karma has made her bloody choice! All I know is that right now, I am too angry to think straight, and I wish I could hurt her back the same way she hurt me…”

“There’s no need to be spiteful or vengeful, Miles.” She brought his face down so that his forehead was resting against hers as she peered into his dejected eyes. “What has happened, has happened, and life will go on. Trust that eventually, you will find peace, and even choose to take this as a major sign. I know you said that you were thinking about trying to have another baby and that the two of you have had heartache in that department in the past. Maybe… you and me… I don’t know. Maybe I could…”

“Stop.” He cut in harshly. “I – I don’t want to talk right now.”

Limpid, long-lashed teal eyes gazed into slate grey ones. “So, what do you want to do then?”

“I don’t know anything, anymore,” he responded gruffly, “But I do know that I, without question, want to kiss you right now, Lana Skye. Very badly.”

His finger traced a path along her jaw and down her throat, maintaining an unbroken gaze with hers. Leaning over her, an acute awareness enveloped her, each point of contact between their bodies magnified – the press of his hip against hers, the glide of his chest over hers, his fingers trailing from wrists to forearms, weaving through her hair to tilt her head up, and finally framing her face. Holding her in place, lips near her ear, he kissed a sensitive spot, eliciting a familiar shudder in her breath. Her eyes closed, and her head spun, drawing in quick, rhythmic breaths as if surfacing intermittently before diving back into the depths.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmured, and then slowly, ever so slowly, his lips began their descent down towards hers…but just as he could feel the warmth of her breath, he pulled back, out of nowhere, and stared searchingly into her eyes.

Lana froze, her welling eyes snapping open as she gazed up at him, uncomprehending about what was going on. Miles wore the strangest expression – his countenance no longer covetous, but now outright turgid. It seemed as if he had stopped respiring altogether as he studied those eyes, still filled with tears, but it was as though he weren’t seeing her, but looking right through her.

No longer were the eyes watery, almond-shaped, and turquoise. Instead, they transformed into cherished, wide-set, silvery orbs, adorned with swirls of glittering onyx and hints of blue along the edges. Expressive, lively, loving eyes, with a shining radiance, always reflecting the pure and sincere emotions, from fiery rage to raging passion that their owner would show, even when she didn’t always want to show it. The eyes belonged to a woman who’d barely shed tears for anybody, except for him, because of how deeply she’d loved him, even though a part of Miles had died inside each time he’d had to see her cry.

It was the sight of Lana Skye’s tears that had ultimately halted him. That heartrending sadness – that love shimmering in them – none of it was for him, or even because of him. Had never been. They were for another man, the true keeper of her heart, which had only been given to Miles in the past, and offered again just now – on rental. It would only be for a brief spell, in a mindless moment of desolation, just like in the past, making him yet again the second-best man in a torrid affair he realized he no longer wanted to resume.

For the reason that eventually, they’d both come to their senses, and the shameful regret would consume them both.

To tread down the slippery slope of the past this time around would not only be for all the wrong reasons, but it would also be even worse if he was to retread it now, because this time, he knew his own heart wouldn’t be fully invested either, but like hers, would only be settling for what was readily available; a temporary Band-Aid approach to thwart the heartache they were both experiencing.

Despite his initial reflex to want to mindlessly rebound in his ex’s arms in a spiteful gesture towards his former betrothed, he knew Lana’s lover, at least, shouldn’t have to suffer unfaithfulness again, regardless of whether or not he found out about it. Jake Marshall was a good man and a hero, whose incarceration had been extended because of such meritorious antics, and he deserved better than to be cheated on yet again by the woman who was now his current betrothed.

“What is it?” She asked, her heart skipping a beat. He was studying her. Taking in every line of her face from her jaw to her cheekbone to her flyaway hair.

For an infinitesimal moment, Lana froze. She had no idea what to do with herself. No idea where to put her hands, whether to move her lips or how to even breathe.

Miles reached over and ran his hand gently over her hair, brushing an errant lock back behind her ear, the way a parent would to a child, his eyes doleful as he shook his head at her.

“This,” he said softly. “I can’t do this. We can’t do this. You can understand why it would be a grave mistake, can’t you?”

The brunette mutely, dumbly, breathlessly nodded comprehension, even as waves of remorse and confusion tore at her heart.

“You’re right. It would have been a colossal mistake and not only was I unthinkingly foolish in my woebegone state, but I was also very selfish – sobbing in your arms about Jake being denied parole when you are suffering your own unanticipated situation of Franziska’s disappearance.” Lana wiped her eyes and peeked up at him uncertainly through her lashes. “So, let’s forget about me. How are you feeling right now, Miles?”

“I’m as well as one would expect.” His cadence was clipped, his expression guarded. “As well as one could be, coming home to these circumstances, anyway. Thank you for asking.”

Lana frowned. While as polite and perfunctory as ever, she still felt he hadn’t truly answered her question.

“By asking how you were doing, I suppose I meant, are you going to be alright?” She blurted out. “I mean, is there anything I can do for you at all…?”

The Interpol agent regretted the latter question the second it had left her mouth. She wasn’t sure if it was proper at this point to ask that sort of question anymore; considering what had nearly just transpired between them, did she even have the right, to be offering help, when she had nearly just compounded the problem for them both?

“I’m a grown man, Lana,” Miles replied evenly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” She asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” he replied.

No! He silently screamed. I don’t know when the hell I’ll be fine, ever again!

“That’s good.”

This conversation is knocking the wind out of me. She thought dismally. Why does it leave me so empty? We nearly just wound up falling back into bed together, and now we’re resorted to making small talk. Chit-chatting is for strangers and we knew each other inside out. Knew. Past tense. I guess that’s why.

He gave her a slight smile. It was the same awkward smile that she’d seen him give the homeless on the street, right before he tossed them some spare change.

Suddenly she was aching with sympathy for her former lover. She wanted to take him in her arms and kiss him and comfort him and be comforted by him and weep for both their plights, all at the same time. Her mind and heart were a kaleidoscope of whirling emotions. She loved Jake. She was devastated about this latest setback. Yet she still felt so drawn to this man who she couldn’t seem to fully shake from her system… and it made sense, yet it didn’t. The uncertainty of it all was overwhelming.

“What are you going to do with yourself now, Miles?”

“I have no idea.” He sounded weary. “Eat something eventually? Try to rest. Drown my sorrows in spirits? I can’t really think straight right now, Lana.”

“It’s scary, isn’t it? Amidst all this tragedy, not knowing what’s going to happen next? At least, it is for me.” She swallowed back another desolate sob mounting in her chest. “You never seem afraid of anything, though, Miles. I mean, phobias notwithstanding – you always seem like nothing fazes you. How can you always be so strong? So fearless?”

“You’re giving me way too much credit, Lana.” His inflection was gruff now, dismissive, as though her questions irked him. “I am human like everyone else. We’re all afraid of something.”

“Really?” She challenged. “I’m not sure I buy that, Miles Edgeworth. Tell me, what’s your greatest fear?”

“Lana, please!” His voice rose barely an octave, but his frustration was evident now. He crossed his arms and looked away. “I can’t do this right now … I don’t want to talk. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, blathering on like this,” she mumbled, awkwardly placing a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened but didn’t pull away. Feeling slightly emboldened then, she leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, her gaze lingering on his. “I know I should go … but I have to ask you … when you took me in your arms a moment ago…was it only because you were lost in the moment and weren’t thinking? Or did a part of you still … want to?”

“I don’t know.” He jammed his hands in his pockets. “It’s difficult for me to see someone I care about in tears, so at first it was a comfort. But when it was for the second time … I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a moment of combined temptation … and perhaps even nostalgia and sentiment that’s never fully shaken.”

He met her level gaze and then looked away.

“You meant a lot to me at one point Lana. We share an unignorable history. Because of that, I suppose I will always have a soft spot for you, in some way.”

“We were good, weren’t we?” She whispered, her teal eyes still transfixed on his.

“Yes, we were.”

“But why? Why did things end the way they did? Sometimes, Miles, I can’t help but wonder if I made the right –”

“Stop,” he interjected. “We were younger, more reckless, more foolish. But then…we grew up.”

She sighed.

“I never asked for that.”

“No one ever asks to grow up,” he replied wearily. “It just happens.”

“I know it might be crazy to ask this now, to even think about it, but … do you think, if circumstances were different, we could go back to how things were?”

“I don’t think it would be the same.” He shook his head. “We can’t pick up where we left off. And after this… I’m almost grateful the next sting operation phase will have us apart for some time. I don’t think I’d be able to just easily leap back into the same kind of friendship with you.”

“No, I suppose not.”

Lana was silent for a moment, then regarded him with misty eyes.

“Thanks for being there for me tonight,” she said finally. “I appreciate it so much.”

“Think nothing of it. It’s the least I can do for a damsel in distress.” Miles bowed slightly. “History tends to repeat itself with you, Lana Skye. Whenever I see your tears, I always feel inclined to soak them upon my shoulder.”

He cracked a half-smile then.

“Despite my constant repeating past events, however, I suppose we are both fortunate that this time, the sight of your weeping didn’t result in … compounding my follies.”

He’s already speaking about us as a long-gone historical event, she realized and fought back a sniffle. Why is this so hard?!

“I won’t see you again, will I?”

“I don’t know.”

She flashed him a doleful smile.

“I’ll remember you though. With great fondness. I’ll remember us.”

“I know. As will I.”

“Despite how everything turned out in the end, I’d like to think that a part of me would still – feel the way that I did about you; that it wasn’t based on some coincidence of place and time.”

“I don’t regret you,” he told her sincerely. “I don’t care how it ended. I don’t care about your worst. I remember how it began and how happy it made me at one point. I won’t ever regret you, Lana Skye.”

Past tense. It was a dismissal if the former detective had ever heard one. As much as she’d anticipated it, it still stung. She turned towards the door then but cast a final, forlorn glance over her shoulder.

“So, this is it?” Lana’s lip quivered. “This is how it ends? With me leaving like this?”

“What else is there to say?”

“It’s ironic. I’m the one physically going, yet it feels like you’re the one departing. And it hurts. A lot.”

“I don’t know any other way,” he said quietly. “Can you ever leave someone without hurting them?”

“Maybe some things aren’t meant to last.” She managed a small, consoling smile. “Perhaps they hold more meaning that way. But, this… all of this had to be worth something. Right?”

His face resumed its unreadable mask, and she felt an urgent need for validation before possibly parting ways forever. There was desperation in her voice as she stared at him beseechingly.

“Miles…please. Tell me I’m not the only one with this on my mind.”

“You’re still upset right now,” he answered tonelessly, his visage still impassive. “But trust me on this, Lana. You made the right choice. It’s not me you truly want.”

The old line ‘You deserve someone better than me’ was not merely a cop-out. Lana deserved genuine love and care, and Miles knew he could never provide that. Maybe there was a time he thought he could, but now he knew better.

“Stop saying that! This isn’t about me. I know what I wanted when I was in your arms just now, Miles Edgeworth! I wanted you.” Her voice broke. She realized her grip on the doorknob was tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She swallowed and released the cold metal. “This is about you. Don’t push it off on me.”

Silence lingered, broken by the tick-tock-tick-tock of the corner grandfather clock, while he stared at her and she stared at him with a lone tear trickling down her cheek. To his great shame, Miles was the first to drop his gaze.

“Fine. Maybe it is best if we have some space right now. You plainly have nothing more to say. If you want me to go, then I’m going to go,” she finally choked out.

“It’s not about what I want, Lana, please try to understand that.” His expression was pained as he finally spoke. “I don’t want you to go! But you have to. If you don’t, we’ll both regret it, just as we did in the past. The longer you stay here, the harder this will be for both of us. This won’t get any easier.”

That day could have gone in countless directions, like a spider web shooting out toward endless possibilities. Every choice, especially one resisted, affected everything, causing tremors beneath their feet and subtle shifts in the universe. The choice had been made, and it would change everything.

Perhaps somewhere there was a ripple, a small jump, a barely noticeable shift in the universe, but Miles Edgeworth and Lana Skye felt none of it. With heaviness in both their hearts, they only felt the world continuing to move on, just as it always had, all around them.

Without another word, she let the door close behind her, leaving him alone in bittersweet silence.

Miles Edgeworth
Von Karma Estate, Germany
April 20, 2026, 3:30 AM

Shortly after his phone call to both Phoenix and Gumshoe regarding his best friend’s trial, and after having Hendricks book him the redeye flight back to Los Angeles later that morning, which would have him arriving by early evening, Miles trudged back to his room. He flipped on the stereo, and let the music of Jose Luis Perales attempt to soothe his soul.

Miles closed his eyes as he listened to the lyrics of “Tentación,” reflexively translating them into English verse in his mind, although fluent in Spanish, he understood the Latin crooner’s lyrics all too well. They felt like a dagger to the heart, as this particular song summarized his situation with Lana since their reunion over a year ago, and how he’d felt, especially that last night he’d seen her.

He hated how the song was a little too close to home for his liking. It was probably also ludicrous to feel that if he’d ensnared himself into the honeyed perfume of Lana’s temptress “butterfly wings,” he would have been betraying, even cheapening, his love with Franziska. Yet ultimately, that was how he’d felt, and the reason why he’d opted not to succumb to the temptation of his former paramour, in the end.

“Tentación,” he mused aloud. “Or ‘Temptation’ as it were. No matter what language you use to describe it, it summarizes it all perfectly.”

What Lana and I had, it wasn’t love. Miles grasped this at last. It was a fire in the blood, primal lust, and wild infatuation, but not love.

Love, true love, had been what he’d had with Franziska.

The singer was now singing about the very definition of love in the equally fitting song playing called ‘El Amor.’ While more powerful in the crooner’s native Spanish, of course, the translated lyrics still packed a powerful punch.

Love is a drop of water in a glass
It’s a long walk without speaking
It’s a fruit for two
Love is a space where there is no place
For another thing than not being loved
It’s between you and me

Love is mourning when it tells us goodbye
Love is a dream hear a song
Love is putting the heart to pray
It’s you forgive me and I to understand you

Love is to stop the time on a clock
Find a place where to hear your voice
Love is to create a world between the two
It’s you forgive me and I to understand you

Love is a mouth with flavor honey
It’s a rain in the afternoon
It’s an umbrella for two
Love is a space where there is no place
For other things than not being loved
It’s between you and me

Love is mourning when it tells us goodbye
Love is a dream; hear a song
Love is putting the heart to pray
It’s you forgive me and I to understand you

Love is to stop the time on a clock
Find a place where to hear your voice
Love is to create a world between the two
It’s you forgive me and I to understand you…

It was right after listening to those poetic lyrics that Miles had collected his thoughts and written one final letter to his former lover, still burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket, already stamped with the address of her coroner friend, Hope Wells, with whom she was staying in Germany. He still hadn’t sent it, due to the absolute finality of what he’d penned within. Because once Lana received that letter, there truly would be no going back for them, ever.

Dear Lana,

I ask for your pardon as you read this because there was once a time that I gave you grief for not giving me the proper farewell I thought I deserved, after all, you and I had been through. Yet here I am, guilty of great hypocrisy myself because, by the time you get this letter, it will be my turn to have left without giving you a final parting in person, as I have decided to leave Europe and head to the States much earlier than our sting operation dictated.

In our last meeting, much was left unsaid. As you are aware, I am not one for verbosity, carefully selecting my words when I do speak. Reflecting on our past and the unresolved matters between us, I find it necessary to address them now that time and distance have provided clarity.

Lana, there was a moment when I thought you were captivating chaos I wouldn’t mind falling in love with. Yet, each time we were together, I felt lost in a dark house, groping for a light switch. And when found, the bulb was invariably dead.

Your wild unpredictability fascinated me; your words and actions were at times surprising, occasionally disconcerting. Despite it all, you were undeniably exciting, and that captivated me the most. You were never dull, and for that, I found you to be a marvel. Beautiful, mature, and, I must confess, significantly more experienced than I was when we first met. Forgive my admission; I was disoriented.

The truth is, during our time as lovers, you dismantled me faster than I could reconstruct myself. Late at 4:00 AM, I’d wonder if we shared simultaneous thoughts, yearning for a connection that went unspoken. In my mind, we walked parallel paths, tantalizingly close yet not near enough. I’d want to call your name, but your arm was wrapped around someone else’s waist. You ran towards me, a blur, but when you arrived, I was not the one in your embrace. It was always Marshall. Deep down, I think I always knew that. You left me long before choosing him over me. You made the right decision.

Our affair, though thrilling, was a grave sin, one we should have ceased immediately. Yet, we persisted. While I don’t regret our time together, I equally don’t regret not revisiting that path.

Remember this: memories of the past are buried for a reason. Nostalgia is the enemy; don’t let it dig up old memories and lie to you all over again and resist its pull to rewrite old stories.

The last time we were together, you asked me about my greatest fear. And now I tell you: to be forgotten. But not just that. To be forgotten by a person who I could never forget.

As much as you promised to never forget me, I swear I will neither forget nor ever regret you, Lana Skye.

Though today marks a sad departure, losing a part of myself in the process, it is also a new beginning. We both deserve more than what the other could offer. I don’t believe in settling for, nor accepting, the philosophy: “If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one that you’re with.”

You and I are worth much more than to be a convenient warm body for the other’s enjoyment while our hearts lie elsewhere.

Now, with the impetuousness of youth behind me, I recognize my worth. If love finds me again, I desire everything—a love untainted by distractions, reciprocated wholly. I’ve made mistakes but am not unworthy of being the sole keeper of one’s heart, not second-best to anyone.

I have made mistakes in my life, but I am not a man unworthy of being the sole keeper of one’s heart, and not second-best to anyone. I feel at the very least, I deserve that much in life.

It’s not just about me. It’s about what you’re going to want, what you need, what you deserve. You’re the other half of his soul. Marshall is never going to get over you. And no matter how much you hope that you will, you’ll never get over him. Had you and I tried to go back to what we used to be, you were going to wake up one day and realize what you’d done, and regret the time you wasted apart from him for the rest of your life. The day will come when Jake Marshall is a free man, and when that day comes, I wish nothing but happiness and love everlasting for you both.

I want to now give you what I couldn’t give you when we were face-to-face in my home that day – a chance to bid you one final adieu.

Now, I offer what I couldn’t when we last met—a chance to bid you a final adieu. I wish you the very best, and I thank you for the profound lessons in emotions, relationships, and life.

Regards,
Miles Edgeworth

And even now, knowing what he knew, even realizing the glaring, almost obscene, distinctions between the carnal concupiscence he’d felt for Lana versus his passionate love for Franziska, Miles wasn’t sure if he was ready to say such a final goodbye to Lana Skye.

Not just yet…

Nonetheless, letter or no letter, he had to get out of Germany. Out of this mansion. This cold, ostentatious mansion of painful memories, within which he rattled about like a lonely, forgotten marble on a deserted ship, lost at sea.

I have to get out of here. Lana was right about one thing – we do need space. I need time and space. I need to think, to gather my bearings, to collect my thoughts. However, I can’t do it here. And I certainly can’t risk running into Lana again until I do – not after all this. Maybe that makes me a coward. So be it. But I can’t stay here another minute. He expelled a gusty sigh. Because the truth is, being here brings me nostalgia. Being here reminds me too much of you, Franziska Von Karma. You, and all we had, and all we’ve lost.

He let out a humorless laugh. He could run away, back to LA, where later that night, he would be reunited with his best friend at long last – although hopefully not through the thick pane of prison glass! – But it didn’t matter where he went, or how far he traveled to escape the painful memories.

The ghost of his ex-fiancée wasn’t found in any sort of physical, tangible location. Franziska had gone beyond just getting into his blood and stirring his loins. The memory of her would always be embedded within him regardless of wherever he went.

Truth be told, meine Dame, you reside eternally in my heart, an indomitable presence. Even now, amidst my diminished self, a mere echo of my former self, your absence casts a profound shadow. This heartache arrives in relentless waves, robbing me of appetite and sleep alike. A shard in my gut, unrelenting and ever-present, though with time, the edges may dull. It feels akin to death, a quiet torment that constricts breath and short-circuits the mind in moments of stillness. What was once whole now lies shattered; where tranquility once thrived, there is now a void echoing the love I poured into it—care, affection, and all. My efforts, though earnest, seem insufficient in the face of your departure. Now, all that remains of me are fragments scattered on the floor, fragile and fearful of the next gust that might sweep them away.