Claiming My Father's Best Friend

　　ASTRID

　　"Don't you dare walk out on me, Astrid, this is all your fault!" Tristan barks, his eyes bulging as rage burns in their depth.

　　He's being ridiculous and the last thing I want to do tonight is stand here and listen to him act like a fucking child. I grab the door handle and cross the threshold, stepping into the balcony. Before I can take another step, I hear his footsteps hard and fast behind me, and then the scent of his cologne wafts into my nostrils, making me feel nauseous and irritated.

　　"Go away, Tristan. I have nothing to say to you." I mutter, closing my eyes as the cold air brushes my skin. The sun has set and the cloud is darkening with an intensity that matches the storm brewing inside of me, casting an ominous shadow over everything I've believed in for the past three years.

　　Tristan and I met at a fundraiser three years ago. It wasn't love at first sight but a bond that was fostered by our parents' stance in society. His father, Keith Blackwood owns half the city and has several businesses scattered all over the city and beyond. Same with my father. Tristian is in charge of the hotels and resorts. Sometimes, I feel like the fame has gotten into his head but then, he's always been a brat. I was just crazy enough to stick by him and make excuses for him every single time his demons surfaced.

　　"You don't mean it, babe. You can't possibly ask me to leave." His voice is sober. I know he's trying to crawl through the walls I've suddenly erected like he does each time we fight and I turn on his ass.

　　"I had a long day at the office. Being a rookie amongst people who have been in the field even before I was born is no walk in the park. I …"

　　"Because you chose to go through all of that when you can work with me or your dad!" He snaps in a disapproving tone. "I told you I have just the perfect spot for you in one of the resorts. You can stay here with me or go to Australia, London ----"

　　"I don't want to work for you or my father I'm not a fucking charity case!"

　　He scoffs. "But you're slaving in that company for peanuts!"

　　How did we get here?

　　"I love my job as a financial consultant, and I'm going to earn every spot, every single benefit that comes with the job. I don't want you breathing down my neck every chance and belittling my effort."

　　"That's not true! I love you and I want what's best for you, babe."

　　I tilt my neck and toss him a glare. "You think?"

　　I pause, watching him suck in a breath. God, I can't believe I've put up with this man for this long. I should have dumped his ass after I noticed the first red flag. "You question my decision. You doubt my strength. Walk all over my emotions." I turn to face him, staring right into his blue eyes that are now consumed by rage. "I was looking forward to spending the night with the man I love. It was supposed to be our anniversary but you ruined it with your despicable attitude, treating me like a child in the middle of a restaurant!"

　　"I want what's best for you and having a cream lobster bisque would definitely ruin your shape!"

　　Bloody hell!

　　"Really? You care about my body size more than I do?"

　　"Looks like that to me! Because if you cared one bit, you wouldn't dare to even glance at a meal with high calories!"

　　I laugh. The sound erupts from my belly, spills through my lips, and echoes in the open space.

　　"Get out, Tristan, or I'll be forced to call the security to throw you out."

　　He narrows the gap between us and peers at my face, a smirk playing across his lips. "You'll do no such thing, babe."

　　The nerves of him to think he has some sort of control over me! Hasn't he learned his lessons already? When is he going to realize I can't be tamed?

　　"You have five minutes to get into that elevator, Tristan, and for your sake, I hope you stay away from me."

　　He stills for a moment. I gauge disbelief in his gaze, but then he lets out a low chuckle, a poor attempt at masking the emotion I can so easily decipher. Fear.

　　"Are you breaking up with me on our anniversary? A night we should be celebrating our love while anticipating the part I'll get to peel this dress off your body. What happened at the restaurant was nothing, besides, I gave you the perfect gift to make up for whatever I did."

　　I cast a withering glance at him. "Don't be silly! I told you I wasn't interested in your damn gift!"

　　"But it looks good on you. Don't you think so, hmm?"

　　Tristan leans in, raising his hands slowly to cup my face. His thumb strokes my bottom lip. Instead of the familiar thrill, I usually feel at his touch, my insides knot up with a sense of foreboding. I attempt to distance myself, but his strong grasp keeps me in place and our lips collide in an unexpected embrace.

　　A fresh wave of anger sweeps through me when he nips at my lips, seeking entrance.

　　"You son of a bitch!" I seethe! Striking him across the face with all the strength I can muster. "You make me sick!"

　　He laughs, massaging the spot I just hit with his palm. "You need me, baby doll. I can see your pupils dilating and your body is slightly leaning towards me. Don't try to act all strict and shit – admit it."

　　The anger skyrockets, threatening to choke me. "You're right about one thing, Tristan. However, I'm going to be celebrating tonight for an entirely different reason." I unclasp the bracelet he forcefully slid across my wrist at the restaurant during our argument and dump it in the front pocket of his tuxedo.

　　"I've lied to myself over and again, believing you'll stop being an asshole and treat me like I deserve to be treated with respect and utter devotion. When you hurt me the first time, I forgave you even before you told me it was never going to happen again. And what did you do? Huh?! You turned me into this woman who can barely stare at her reflection in the mirror without shedding a tear."

　　"Babe, we can fix this. Don't give up on us, please."

　　I want to laugh in his face. Give up on us? What the hell is he talking about? I gave up a long time ago. I've just been to chicken to walk away. I turn on my heel, heading straight to the elevator door that leads right to the lobby.

　　"Goodbye, Tristan," I say. Thumbing the buttons with force. "I hope I never see you again."

　　He throws me one last lingering glance before stepping into the confined space. I wait for my heart to shatter into tiny unrecognizable pieces. It's supposed to, right? I mean, I loved this man.

　　We had plans - so many dreams and stuff. There were days I couldn't go to bed without hearing his voice. There were moments I wanted nothing more than to bask in his touch and relish his teasing strokes and linger in his arms. God! I trusted in our love so much that I almost lost myself.

　　Dad will give me an earful. Mom, she adores Tristan. It's not going to be easy with them. I know his parents will be devastated too. Everyone in our family has been rooting for us. After a heavy sigh that eases the thought of the next few days, of having to face the questions and gossip from our circle of friends, I make my way to my bedroom and lie face down on the neatly made bed.

　　Something flickers in my mind and without allowing myself to dwell on the what-ifs of the decision I just made and the heat it will stir as soon as the news gets out, I walk to the minibar in the lounge and fix myself a drink. As the warm liquid sizzles down my throat, memories flood me, blurry, but just enough to make my temper rise again.

　　Damn, Tristan!

　　I got the perfect dress for tonight. I took ample time to put on my makeup and Mom had sent her stylist to do my hair. Everything I did meant nothing to him! He was more concerned with my weight than giving a fuck about my feelings.

　　My feet tremble slightly, forcing me to lean on the barstool. It's going to be a long night. My thought veers to Lily, my best friend. It's a Friday which means she'll be out at the bar downtown. I should call her, and tell her I've finally taken her advice to cut things off with the arrogant son of a bitch. Lilly hates Tristan's guts and they're always at each other's throats. My lips twitch in a small smile as I slowly realize that I have one person in my corner.

　　As if the universe is in sync with my thoughts, my cell phone vibrates and the caller ID flashes with Lilly's name. I answer after the third ring.

　　"Are you at his penthouse or yours?" She drawls, her voice light with humor.

　　I swirl the amber liquid in the tall glass, the smile on my lips widening into a wide grin. "I'm at mine."

　　"Where is he? What did he say when he saw that knee-jerking lingerie you got last week? Did he like it??"

　　My mind wanders to the red microfiber piece hanging in my walk-in closet. I gulp. Will the store take it back? Perhaps one of the girls wouldn't mind taking it off my hands. I can -

　　"Astrid?"

　　My mind snaps back to the present. Lily asked a question but I can't recall what it was.

　　"I – I'll call you in the morning, girl. I have to reply to a few emails and work on this file my Team Lead dropped on my desk today. It's due tomorrow."

　　"Work? Today's supposed to be your dating anniversary. What's going on? Are you alright?"

　　The tears surface and my grip on the glass tightens. "Tristan and I - - we broke up. I couldn't bear being with him anymore, Lily. I guess you were right about him breaking me apart. All that's left is a deep sense of regret and emotional scars."

　　Lily chuckles. "Fucking-finally, girl! I wish I was there to see the look on his face!"

　　I wait for her to ask me if I'm okay but the next thing I hear is the beeping tone and the sound of her low laughter reverberating in my ears. Maybe she's just excited for me. Or was that mockery I gauged in her voice?

　　No... it can't be. Lily is my best friend and she's always been against my relationship with Tristan. I tilt my head back, gulping the entire content of the glass. I wince as the peppery note of the scotch hits my throat. In the blink of an eye, I imagine Lily and Tristan together. No. Fuck! I need to get a damn grip and stay off social media and the horrid recent issues and tensions in modern relationships.

　　By the time the anger has simmered and I'm a tad bit relaxed, it's midnight. I push my laptop away and lay my head on the polished desk in my study, trying my damndest to not replay the night's event. My phone beeps, this time it's a text message. Without raising my head, I search the desk blindly for the device and then slide it under to read whatever is on the screen.

　　Tristan.

　　I hope you realize your mistake soon, babe.

　　I let the phone drop on the floor at the same time the first tear drips down onto the desk. Given Tristan's character, he's going to complicate things and it scares me more than the thought of losing him.