After Layla French's life is turned upside down by the ultimate betrayal, she finds herself at square one. No husband. No home. And no Harry Styles? That's still to be determined.
'What happens when you lose everything? You just start again, start a...
And there we have it! Book Two - done and done! I know it's been a rollercoaster getting there, but we came out on the other side.
I just want to say a whole bunch of thank yous, and give you a little sneak preview of what's to come in book three.
To my betas and the people who have helped get this story to where I always hoped it would be, E (who isn't on wattpad, but I'm going to post this here anyway), Dayxodreamer , AMomentOfEmotion , sleepylittlepeach , and Happyharry0201 . My gratitude to all of you is limitless. You've all helped this story grow, helped me push myself as a writer, and helped my belief in the story I was trying to tell. I love you with all my heart, and I am so thankful to have you as friends as well as being my support network when I have meltdowns. Like book one, this was a really hard one to write, and as I struggle daily with my crappy health which makes my memory terrible and my brain a foggy mess, I could never thank you enough for the support you've given which has kept me from giving up completely ❤❤❤
There are so many little ideas and suggestions that you've all made that really helped shape this book, but I really want to give a shout out to Happyharry0201 for the suggestion of Harry's POV. What started off as a little angsty extra in the old book 2 where Gemma runs into Layla at a party, grew into four incredibly important chapters that shows Harry's growth. They have become some of my most favourite chapters, so I just wanted to give you some love for such a wonderful idea. ❤
And before I start getting weepy, I will finish by thanking all you lovely, wonderful, amazing people who read, comment, and vote. It's a cliché, but it's true for every writer, that you make it all worthwhile. I wish you could know how much I love reading every single one of your comments, and how I wish I had the brain power to respond to every single one which I've been terrible at for the past few months. Seeing you go on the journey I hoped you all would when I was writing brings me a huge amount joy, and seeing how you support Layla as she tries to make her way through life makes me cold little heart feel so warm and happy.
I've been working on this story for five years. This is the third and final draft, but I finally feel ready to write the third part I always wanted to. Layla and all the characters from this story mean the absolute world to me, and I love how you've all welcomed them into your life and showed them so much love. It all sounds so cheesy, but I mean every word.
So! With that being said, I'm extremely excited to move onto Book Three - Fishing For A Dream. I want to aim to start posting in September, and hopefully it will be mostly written and edited by then.
But, here's a little sneak peak at what's to come! (It is slightly edited because of spoilers for other things that happen.)
Fishing For A Dream - AUGUST 1st
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A newspaper landing heavily on my desk woke me from my daydreams of still being tucked up, cosy in bed. Wondering what I had done to offend Rose so badly that she would bring a copy of The Sun into my presence, I looked up at her, confused. She silently pointed at the paper for me to look at it, but her face said it all.
1-DIVORCED
The large, slightly blurry picture next to the white, bolded headline was of Harry and I. We were at an event, and Harry was kissing me. Someone had photographed us, or filmed us, at a time when he was trying to comfort me. Someone had seen us and saw it as an opportunity to make a quick buck. And they hadn't just sent photographs, they'd told them everything about me. My childhood, Bianca, Will and Terry, and my affair with Harry. My name, my age and the 10 year age gap between me and Harry, and name of the company, even which borough of London I lived in. It was all there in black and white, prime to be judged by everyone who saw it. There was even a photo I had long forgotten about, a photo of Harry and I the night he'd turned up at one of Rose's events after he'd cheated on me, the night he confessed to it. We both looked uncomfortable, the smile on our faces not reaching our eyes, and both radiating that we'd rather be anywhere but there. We looked like to very different people.
I felt sick. My stomach dropped, panic set in, and the blood drained from my face. This was it.
"Fuck!" I finally exhaled. Nodding to the main office, I asked, "have they seen this?"
Rose grimaced and put a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "Yeah, they've seen it. I caught them in the breakroom trying to work out if it was actually you. Vicky's speaking to them now, so they'll know not to speak to anyone. They love you, Lil, nobody will say a thing."
"I'm... who would do this? I wouldn't be so bothered by it if it was just a photo, but everything is there." My voice had begun to raise, but I stopped and regained my composure. "In Will's house. It was a guest, it was someone I'd probably spoken to and thanked them for coming."
"I have no idea, Lil," Rose said, quietly, though I knew her well enough to know she probably had a few theories. I had my own, but I wasn't quite ready to confront them, yet. "Have you heard from Harry? Or Jeff?"
Picking up my phone, I shook my head. Harry was about to start his last few show, all in California, so he would be fast asleep in his bed, peaceful and completely oblivious. "No, he'll be asleep. It's only 3 am in LA. Jeff too, I would imagine."
I sent Harry a message asking him to call me as soon as he woke up, but bottled out of messaging Jeff. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was all my fault. Harry wasn't tabloid fodder anymore, he'd worked really hard to make sure of that, but there he was on the cover of a scummy paper, forever linked to my sordid past. I didn't want to message Jeff and be the one to inform him that someone I knew -because I had known almost everyone who'd been at the wake- had... there was a chance they had ruined everything. But maybe that had been their intention.