It had been some years since that fateful clashing of titans in the courtroom, where an assassin was the crucial witness in a murder. He'd taken the time to grow his hair into a stately grey ponytail that reached the middle of his back, and to get glasses everyone was convinced he actually needed - no one needed to know they just made him feel more intelligent; and it seemed he needed to feel more intelligent now more than ever. He'd never quite forgiven himself for retreating to Germany for so long; sure, he'd used the excuse that he was learning about foreign law, but it was clear to anyone who cared to look deep enough at what he'd done: he'd run away. He had run away in fear of the unknown, the spontaneity; the change. He'd missed out on so much. Since when did Wright have a daughter? She was only nineteen years younger than Wright, and he was sure Phoenix didn't have a daughter when he was rivals with the young attorney; then there she had been at the church, twenty-three and a beautiful excuse for a woman. Even now, at forty-five, Edgeworth didn't think he'd ever met such an eclectic and intelligent young woman. Even when her eyes were sad, she was striking.

Once a month every month, plus every holiday, Edgeworth went to visit Phoenix. He'd bring a picnic basket full of his and Wright's favorite foods and a bottle of nice wine. He'd lay out a plaid blanket on the soft green and have a pleasant conversation with his rival-turned-lover. He'd talk about the weather, his job as the District Attorney, a good book he'd just read. But every time, without fail, he'd grow sad.

"We never really had enough time together, Wright. Everything came together just too late. I shouldn't have left for so long... I was only ever running away from the inevitable." He'd look at the sad, grey headstone with a miserable sigh and read the inscription he had read hundreds of times before.

'Here Lies Phoenix Wright
Defender of the People
Loving Father
Caring Husband
Never Gave Up
If He Could Find A Way'

Phoenix had changed him so much. Edgeworth had come home to California from Germany, hair down to his shoulders and small glasses perched on his nose. He had been convinced his feelings were gone, that he didn't feel the same anymore. But the first person he saw as he stepped into the airport from the plane was Phoenix and his rag-tag crew. He was stunned at Wrights attire; he looked…like a couch potato. He tried to remind himself of this even as the stubbly man came over and kissed him squarely on the lips with no preamble. He was speechless. Never would he have expected that.

Slowly, Phoenix made him happier, more spontaneous. Edgeworth brought back the light in Phoenix's eyes. For a year, everything was perfect.

And then the terminal brain cancer. Apparently, it was an old thing; Phoenix had known for a long time. But Edgeworth swallowed the hurt and betrayal and made the last days of Phoenix's life the best he could for the both of them.

Five years later, and things hadn't changed. Phoenix was gone, and Edgeworth was alone. "I know you would tell me to move on, find another girl or guy to love me. But really…no one would be as good as you were. It was hard enough for me to commit to you; you can just imagine what it would be like with someone less persistent than you," Edgeworth said with a roll of his eyes. "Trucy and Maya still miss you, but they're pretty happy together. Pearl had another modeling show, she was amazing. I took her out for burgers after in congratulations. I must've been hit ten times for my constant skinny jokes in your place." Edgeworth chuckled. "Larry and Franziska were there. She's still whipping him into shape. He actually has manners now, thank goodness. Apollo's still head-to-head with Klavier; I keep telling them they need to get together, but Apollo only blushes and gets flustered."

He settled back against the headstone and looked up into the sky. "I still can't believe how many people you brought together and made happy. Including me…" He smiled wistfully, then got up and gathered the picnic things. He knelt in front of the tombstone and rested his forehead against it before whispering, "I love you, Phoenix. I love you and I always will." He stood and left, the glimmer of Phoenix's badge, inset in the stone, glimmering in his wake.