Fragments of Us ⏩ Max Verstappen

8. Lunch

As Harry caught me just before I could faceplant on the treadmill, his familiar voice and touch startled me back to reality. His hands were steady as they held onto me, and I felt a mix of embarrassment and relief flood through me. "Aria, are you alright?" Harry asked, his green eyes searching mine with concern.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I managed, trying to regain my composure. Harry lingered, his presence both comforting and unexpected. "Are you working out here often?" he asked, trying to break the awkward silence that enveloped us.

"Um, my apartment is getting renovated soo....." I trailed off lamely.

"Well its been so long since we've seen each other, would you like to go out to lunch with me ?" he askes with a hopeful smile on his face.

I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. In that moment, I weighed my options. Going to lunch with Harry, my most iconic and famous ex, would undoubtedly make headlines. Everyone would talk about it, and Max...

Max would see it. A small, vindictive part of me relished the idea. During our relationship, Max had been overly protective, sometimes irrationally jealous due to his own past with his emotionally abusive father. It had taken time to convince him of my unwavering commitment.

Against my better judgment, I agreed to go to lunch with Harry. But first, I needed to change. I recruited Katie's help alongside Noah who we facetimed. He chimed in with his brotherly banter. They questioned my decision, expressing concern over whether this was the right move given my current state. Deep down, I knew it probably wasn't, but the desire to provoke some reaction from Max won out.

Katie sifted through my wardrobe remotely, commenting on each item with an amused but supportive tone. "What about this skirt? Max always loved how you looked in it," she suggested mischievously, holding up a short, mid-thigh-length black skirt that I knew would drive Max wild. Noah, on the other end of the call, couldn't resist teasing us both, adding his two cents about how this whole situation was "classic Aria drama."

The banter with my siblings lightened the heavy feeling in my chest momentarily. I chose the black skirt, paired it with black pantyhose, and settled on a light blue button-down shirt tucked neatly into the skirt. A thin white jacket completed the look, along with my black Dior saddle bag and black heeled boots that added some much-needed height—I was only five feet tall. Red lipstick, my signature, completed the ensemble. I knew these items—especially the heeled boots, the tiny skirt, and the red lips—had always been a weakness for Max. And that was exactly what I wanted.

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Harry had managed to secure us a private balcony table overlooking the city skyline. Over lunch, I couldn't help but wonder aloud why he had asked me out. Our relationship hadn't ended on the best terms. I had been 18, infatuated, wanting exclusivity while Harry wanted freedom. In the end, I had walked away.Harry looked at me earnestly. "I've been thinking about you a lot lately," he admitted, stirring his drink absently. "About how things ended between us." He acknowledged that he knew about my relationship with Max over the past few years. They had met briefly, exchanged pleasantries at events, but that was the extent of it.

He apologized for how he had treated me back then, and we fell into an easy conversation about our lives and careers. When he asked about Max, I froze. I hadn't prepared for this awkward conversation—the part of a breakup where you had to tell people it was over and deal with their pity.

I faltered, caught off guard. "Harry, Max and I... we're not together anymore." The words felt heavy as they left my lips, a mix of relief and sadness washing over me.Harry looked genuinely surprised. "Oh," he murmured, his expression shifting to concern. "I'm sorry, Aria. I had no idea."I managed a weak smile, feeling exposed. "It's okay, Harry. You couldn't have known."