Just another Monday: paperwork, boring lunches, even more boring meetings. The usual.

Months after Lucy's incident, everything was back to normal. He was still in contact with Adore, going on sporadic dates with women who didn't really move him one bit.

But something had changed, he had started going out more to worldly places, bars, clubs.

Although he didn't like the environment that much, he had learned to go and have fun with his brother's friends, some married, others single.

They were really just going to dance and get away from the hectic life of the business, or well, he and his brother did. He didn't talk to women, it didn't seem like the right place for that, at least not in clubs.

But... that Saturday he had seen her. Pretty, well-groomed in a dress too adorable to be in a bar at night. But she looked listless, sitting in one of the armchairs, waiting.

He watched her for quite some time, his face becoming more and more distorted into a grimace of resignation and disappointment. That could only mean one thing.

She had been stood up by friends, boyfriend, date, he didn't know who... but he wanted to.

That's how she decided to approach him. First, she sent him a drink, and he chose it, more or less figuring out what a girl like her would like. And he got it right.They soon found themselves talking, laughing, impressed by her kindness and sweetness, and by her great sense of humor—she was genuinely funny.

They connected well. Enough to end up rolled up in sheets that night. Harry fell asleep with the image of her sleeping peacefully, hugging him, while he covered her with kisses... but woke up with an empty space in the bed.

Harry tried to find her, to contact her in every way possible, but nothing. It was as if he'd slept with a ghost; not even the scent of her hair had lingered on his sheets. But he remembered it well, very well.

And it was precisely two Mondays later that he had her face to face again, literally. The secretary of one of his most recent partners, he was staring at her, he couldn't believe it, that she, that woman who made him think of children and puppies on a Sunday holiday sat there, silently watching her boss talking, passing him documents, not even daring to look up at him. In his own company.

That couldn't be left alone. And as soon as they left the room for a walk around the grounds, Harry left everything in Peter's hands. He had more important matters.

"Hey..." Harry's soft voice sounded behind you, there was recognition in it, he knew and was sure it was you, he couldn't forget you. Harry didn't want to know why you left, he wanted to know why you didn't stay. He wished you had stayed.