[ASTRID REESE]
London, England

★ ★ ★

It would be fair to say that after being stood up, Astrid felt like someone locked her in a room with no windows or doors, and a radiator turned up completely. Sweat trickled down her temples, drawing the perfect line down her jaw until the drops of her suffering fell from her chin. By that point, she imagined, her shirt was soaked and smelled. She felt uncomfortable because her clothes were sticking to her and lost, because she had no idea how she found herself in this situation or why. Why was she stuck in this room? Why was she sweating? Why?

But, of course, the answer to those questions was simple. Harry Styles. He was the reason. In one way or another, he put her there and now, she suffered. The difficult part of it all was the acceptance. Denying it until she couldn't, Astrid had to come to the conclusion on her own, that it hurt. It made her feel ridiculous, embarrassed to be more specific, but still ridiculous. It was a joke. It had to be, right? She felt something else. There was something else.

Shame?

Shame.

Why did she feel shame? It wasn't like she stood someone up. Annoyingly enough, someone else stood her up. Someone who was supposed to be an easy ride through heartbreak as opposed to someone who'd bring even more heartache with them. And this was the part where she felt ridiculous. Astrid barely knew the guy and she felt so attached to him that it sickened her. All he did was ditch out on a date—which hurt her like it would hurt any other person—and Reese thought her whole world shattered into pieces.

Maybe it was Derek Molyneux. Maybe it was the residue of him that sprinkled onto the Sexy Surgeon. Maybe these feelings were the little speckles that the ex-left behind, gently falling on Harry Styles as though these remains decided to swing off of a tree like lovely cherry blossom petals until they found a comfortable resting place in his shiny hair.

After all, Astrid was finding comfort in the large yet delicate hands of Harry Styles to calm her bleeding heart. Funnily enough, she had chosen the perfect candidate, given his occupation and all.

So, how was it that she found the safest set of hands yet fell so hard, almost right through them?

Okay. Time to cut the dramatics, right? It was one date. Lazily dropped into a casual conversation. It was late in the evening and Harry visibly looked tired. He must've forgotten all about it—at least, thinking that, Astrid had a reason to somewhat get over it.

"What do you think of this one, dear?" aaand she was back in the real world, invited by none other than Jennifer. With the help of the store employee—who most likely felt as trapped as Astrid—, Jennifer stood up on to the elevated platform, allowing the dress to fall out perfectly. The woman resembled one of those marzipan bride statues that go on top of annoyingly white wedding cakes.

Taking her client's question into consideration, Astrid had to decide whether to be crucifying honest or just honest. Obviously, she couldn't lie but a response was required.

Think of pay day.

"I think it looks lovely," she smiled while sitting on the long, satin, emerald green couch, standing on wooden legs. One hand placed atop the right side of the furniture, her back against the buttoned material. There was a time in her life where she imagined owning something similar to this to fill the emptiness of the snow-white, sky-high hallway of her mansion but it would be fair to say that her taste has changed.

Jennifer sighed and Astrid snapped her head upwards. Kind of like Astrid had done something terrible and now she was getting punished for it. Told off, for a slightly better phrasing.

"Look, Ma'am," Reese started out to explain it was entirely Jennifer's decision but as usual, she got interrupted.

"I thought we agreed on first names?" she asked, though it sounded a lot more like a threat. Over the course of their professional relationship growing, Astrid found that the woman was a lot more controlling than it first appeared. It wasn't her place to make such accusations, even if it was to herself, but she couldn't help it.

"Right," Astrid nodded. With a long inhale of air, she sat further up on the sofa and ran both of her hands down the length of her thighs. That day, for no particular reason at all, she chose to wear trousers that were a soft peach colour, almost nude, with a black bodysuit tucked neatly underneath the band of the bottoms. Pulling the look together with a black blazer and similarly coloured heels. "Jennifer, at the end of the day, the most important thing is that you are pleased with the dress."

"Oh, Astrid..." she sighed, sounding fed up of hearing the response from her. But trust Astrid when she says she was fed up of having to repeat herself quite so much. She's never had to deal with clients so co-dependent, and while she was glad to be of help, this was way out of her job description. She was there for moral support but she couldn't dictate everything. "I just want my wedding day to be perfect."

Clearing her throat before answering gave Astrid enough time to swallow the impulse response. Instead, she said, "I completely understand."

"Well, I don't believe you do," Jennifer shook her head. At that point did Astrid notice that her client sounded upset and overall, genuinely concerned. "Can I sit down in this?" she asked the lady who helped her, and when she received a kind smile with a nod, Jennifer stepped down from the little circle. Holding the dress up, she walked closer to the armchair and took a seat.

"Is everything okay?" Reese questioned with slightly furrowed brows, a level of concern dressing her words like little coats.

"This is my second time getting married," she said. "Did you know?"

"I am aware now, yes."

"Well," Jennifer sighed. "Truth be told, I never felt ready the first time. Richard and I were very different—Richard is my first husband. Ex now, I suppose," she smiled a little. "All along, I thought I was ready to marry him because we'd been high school sweethearts. It made sense to believe he was the one for me."

"Oh, wow," Astrid reacted when she felt like the silence would strangle her.

"We'd been married twenty years when we realised it wouldn't work anymore," Jennifer admitted, now in tears and a lump in her throat. She sounded nasally. "Oh, god," she chuckled. "I apologise. I—I shouldn't be letting this all out on you."

"That's okay," gently, Astrid placed her hand on Jennifer's shoulder to give her a supporting squeeze, along with a little smile. From the corner of her eye, she caught the employee—she really should've remembered her name—extend an arm with a box of tissues. Thanking her quietly, Reese passed it along to Jennifer and she more than graciously pulled a few out of it to use. "This is bound to bring up some past experiences."

"I suppose so, yes," she agreed, nodding vigorously while she grasped her tissues. "With David, I'm more scared to commit to marriage because we are so happy together, and things really have worked out for us. That tells me there is something so wonderful to lose if history repeats itself. And that worry—that makes me think that this could be right. Does that make any sense or am I rambling?"

"You mentioned you were sure with your ex-husband and it didn't end in a happily ever after," she reiterated. "Now, with David, it feels like there's something to lose and almost like it's too precious to ruin. Right?"

"So, you do understand."

"I'm not the greatest at giving advice when it comes to such matters but as long as you feel like you're doing what's best for you, that's all that should count," she spoke, channelling her inner Sofia Jameson. Well, Astrid tried. No one could pick someone up off the floor like her best friend.

"I hear you, dear," she said.

"And, for what it's worth—David seems to be completely smitten," Astrid smiled reassuringly and her comment resulted in Jennifer's cheeks flushing. "And I'm not just saying this to keep my job."

"Oh, dear!" Jennifer chuckled, putting her hand in front of her mouth to keep from sounding so loud in the shop. It made Astrid laugh softly, pleased with herself that she managed to calm the panicking client.

She did, in fact, say all of this to keep her job. Well, perhaps not entirely, but partly. Knock on wood, she has never had anyone pull out and leave her jobless but she has come close to it happening. Ever since then, she decided she would rather put on a glazed-up smile and switch her voice to a much more inviting, sugary one in seconds, than chance losing out on clients.

"Alright," Jennifer spoke up after a big sigh. "Let's find me a dress. How 'bout that?"

★ ★ ★

"You're wearing my shoes."

Astrid laughed as she came to a stop on the street, facing her best friend. "Hello to you, too."

"Are those my Lou's?" she continued to interrogate Astrid, who rolled her eyes and walked past Sofia, right into the restaurant. This left Sofia no other option but to follow very close behind. Astrid could smell her perfume and almost feel her breathing down her neck.

"Hey. Could we get a table for two, please?" Reese asked one of the waiters, who smiled and informed the two women of the five-minute wait. Once he was gone, Astrid sat down on the little sofa then patted the seat next to her, looking at her best friend. "Sit."

"I can't believe you stole my Louboutin's," Sofia continued to mutter under her breath like Astrid did the worst thing on the planet, and all the accused could do was chuckle. It was highly entertaining and committing the crime was absolutely worth it, given the reaction. "You better not have scratched the bottom."

"You know the rule," Astrid shrugged. "Whatever's left in the hallway can be borrowed by the other."

"I had a rough day yesterday, that's why they were left out," she said as a matter of fact, arms crossed and back against the wall. Astrid looked out through the glass on her side, watching as people walked by, then back at Sofia when she said, "Today isn't the brightest either so seeing you in my favourite shoes just ruined everything even more."

"Well," Reese sighed, while looking her best friend up and down, checking out the clothes she put on that morning. Grey suit—trousers cropped just above the ankle—with a white shirt and white trainers. Her black bag, sitting on the floor, had a bandana tied to one of its arms with blue-white-burgundy designs all over them. "I'm pretty sure that's my shirt that you never gave back but you don't see me complaining."

The snarky comment made Sofia gasp, while Astrid sat there with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"You can have your shitty Primark shirt back as soon as my terrible day is over," she grumbled, crossing her arms as she spread her legs while slowly sliding down in her seat. Her posture compared to a sack of potatoes meanwhile Astrid's replicated a Queen's. Straight back, right leg crossed over the left, hands intertwined on her knee.

"I love how you call my shirt a shitty Primark one yet wear it at least three times a week."

"Whatever," Sofia mumbled, leaving Astrid to feel all the more victorious. "And, by the way, you can't just compare designer shoes to your three-pound top."

"Actually, it was four-fifty because I got it from the little work attire section," Astrid corrected her friend, only to piss her off more. It amused her quite a lot, after the morning she had.

"Miss, your table is ready if you'd like to follow me?" the waiter reappeared with a smile on his face that he was forced to put on because that was part of his job. Astrid felt for him because every time she went out to eat, memories of her being stuck for eight hours serving pompous asshats came rushing back.

Gathering their belongings, the two were showed to a table. Seated, they ordered a round of drinks then got lost in all the pages of the menu. It saved them from the silence that covered them like a light blanket. Even though the restaurant was quite busy, it still felt like the calmest moment of both of their days. Astrid's, for sure. Jennifer most certainly sucked all the life out of her with the dresses and many stories about her current love life, and to think that Astrid had to go back to the office after lunch and work some more on previously mentioned lady's wedding sounded almost as bad as the memory of Harry Styles standing her up.

"Just so you know, there's a £640 difference between what you stole and what I stole," Sofia mentioned which made Astrid believe she had been running this through her mind while they both stared at the menu. So, she laughed, leaning her head back gently.

"You are ridiculous."

"No. I'm having a shit day," Sofia sighed and closed the menu. And because of that mood did they decide to meet up for food. The answer to everything was food. And drinks. "I don't even know why I looked at the damn thing. I get the same thing every time."

"You know what? We should go away for a bit," as soon as Astrid proposed the idea, hundreds of thoughts invaded her mind, all of which caused her to start planning without anything set in stone. Where they would go, where they would stay, how much money she'd need to spend and how much it would leave in her bank. Whether she'd need leggings as well as jeans, or perhaps a nicer pair of trousers if they want to go out for a fancy meal. Would she need to take her laptop to do her work or could she cram enough of it during the week to free her weekend. "Actually, I can't do that."

"Neither can I," Sofia laughed, hiding her face in her hands.

"I have two weddings I'm juggling right now, though thankfully only one of them is full-on planned," Astrid shared. "On top of that, I have a lot of unread books I want to read but I just can't find the time."

"I have three cases to research for, and two that are set to go to trial with four days in between," Sofia groaned. "Then we have this team-building event at work soon which I annoyingly decided to help plan because who am I to say no to an opportunity like that?" she laughed. "I have never felt so grateful to Ayla's dad for taking her for the rest of the month. No idea how I'd cope with my workload otherwise."

"He's a good dad, isn't he?" the comment wasn't meant to come as more than an appreciation for the man. He really did do a great job parenting Ayla while respecting Sofia's efforts and constantly helping her whenever she needed it. He looked out for her as much as he looked out for his daughter, even though nothing connected them, other than Ayla.

Still, Sofia obviously saw more into the appraisal as she rolled her eyes at Astrid and leaned back in her seat. "You always do that."

"Hm?"

"You always bring him up. One way or another, you end up dissecting him like you have some kind of end goal."

Shrugging, Astrid said, "Maybe I do."

"Please," Sofia scoffed. "You can't even hold a date down."

"It wasn't my fault that the Sexy Surgeon didn't show," lifting her shoulders again like she had no care in the world, Astrid finally pushed herself over this dilemma. "And I'm not saying it's your fault that you got pregnant after a one-night-stand."

"Good. You shouldn't say that because it's not our fault," she agreed.

"What I am saying is that Ayla's dad is a good man," and of course, this comment was followed by a strained laugh from Jameson. Astrid sat there and waited for her to quiet down, looking at her best friend with no facial expression. "Listen," she leaned forward, hands intertwined on the table, ankles crossed beneath her chair. "You haven't dated anyone in so long, I can't remember the last time you did. I'm not even sure if you hooked up casually."

"I have but it was the worst experience and it put me off of sex."

"Whatever," Astrid shrugged. "Point is, you have the chance to get laid every night, if that's what you'd like. All you have to do is ask your baby daddy."

"Theoretically, yes. That's an option, and I'm not opposed to it," she admitted, which was already more than Astrid ever got out of her before. "But our co-parenting is amazing. Ayla is comfortable with the way we have her here one week and there the next. Sometimes we allow the other more time—like now. I need to focus on work and he understands that."

"See?" Reese stopped her explanation. "If you two were together, she wouldn't need to swap between places. She could have one bedroom, with all of her things in it."

"That's a nice idea and I'm sure she would appreciate it," came the answer with a sigh. Astrid couldn't tell how Sofia was feeling about this. If that were her, she knew she would've wanted to try at least. Then again, the thought of having a kid of her own at this point in her career made her shiver and sit up straighter in her chair. "I just don't want to ruin the relationship I have with him. It would only affect Ayla and I couldn't deal with that."

"You are going into this thinking negatively," Astrid shook her head as she realised the issue. "I think you should call him and talk about it because the way it could affect Ayla badly, it could affect her positively if things work out for the better."

"I see what you mean, and there is some truth to it but I'm not sure I have the spare time on my hands to build a relationship with someone," and with that, Sofia ended the conversation. The waiter also made it over with the starters they ordered, then took their main. After they were left alone again, taking bites of the mozzarella sticks, Sofia asked, "What about you, though? Are you just gonna let this man slide through your fingers?"

"No."

"Then?"

"I only just got over the fact that he stood me up," Astrid said honestly and it clearly shocked Sofia. "Besides, he hasn't called to explain so I decided I'll wait for it."

"You got him hooked already, haven't you?" a proud smile tugged on Sofia's lips as the question fell from them, knowing rather well that her friend was The Jackpot. Anyone who had the chance to be around Astrid was already a winner.

"Please," she smiled.

"You know... I'm still not a fan of this plan of yours but I think it might be working."

"Really?"

"Mhm-hm," Sofia nodded. "I mean, you are glowing. You are happy. I can't remember the last time you even mentioned your ex. This is like—I don't know," she chuckled. "This is like your specialty and I'm sure in five years' time I'll be sitting in one of your master classes on How to Get Over Your Ex."

"Well... if this'll get me rich..." lifting both hands in the air, head tilted slightly, Astrid ended up smiling at the thought. "No, but seriously... he'll never have to know."

"That you're using him to get back at Derek? You're right. He'll be better off not knowing," Sofia commented as she dipped her mozzarella stick in the sauce that came with it. Taking a bite of it with the biggest teasing grin on her face, she chuckled at the gesture homing on Astrid's. "When will he take you home, then? Is it soon? I mean... did you even plan that bit or are you just winging it?"

"Completely winging it," she confirmed. "Although, at this point, I'm not even sure what I'm doing anymore."

"Because you actually like him or something else?"

Astrid groaned, hiding her face behind the menu that the waiter left with them. "Why is that your default question?"

"So, now you feel my pain," her best friend chuckled like an evil little spawn as Astrid gradually moved the menu away from her face. Perhaps she did. Though, still... Sofia and her baby daddy were the ultimate match.

"And you will feel pain when you never see these Lou's again," she bit back, just to have the last word. The last punch. The last one to smirk as Sofia gasped.

Then Astrid's phone rang.

Harry Styles was looking for her.

★ ★ ★

[A.N.]

[Happy Saturday!] 

[Apologies for the delay in getting this update up for you. I completely missed that I switched the days from Sunday to Friday. Not to worry, it is now here!] 

[Deceived hit 1K reads recently, which is very exciting! The reads and votes have been steady so far, and I really appreciate it :). I promise, there will be more Hastrid coming soon!] 

[I hope everyone had a great week, and a similarly sunny Saturday!] 

[See you next week.] 

[With love, B.]