Despite only landing into JFK on July 2nd, George and Leonie Goldwyn refused to turn down the opportunity to throw one of their classic 4th of July parties that had been an annual tradition at their home in the Hamptons before moving to Europe.

They were planning on staying in New York for two whole months which was incredibly exciting for Estélla, the news of her family being just a few hours away instead of on the other side of the world making her feel that little bit less alone than she had been recently.

Christian hadn't let up with his persistence in winning her back, calling and texting when he both did and didn't get responses from Esté. A huge part of her wanted to forget the whole thing happened and run away back to England to be with him, but so far, her feet had stayed firmly planted on US soil.

It was 5 o'clock on Friday evening when Esté finally jumped in her car and headed straight for Long Island. The sun was still high in the sky which made the long journey pretty at least, even if the constant sounding of traffic and backed up cars for as far as the eye could see slowly started to drive her insane.

Work had kept Esté busy since coming back to New York and she was thankful that she was able to continue her jobs that she'd picked up in London back at home. She worked tirelessly at all hours of the day to join meetings in different continents and time zones, losing track of days when she forgot to sleep or simply didn't have time because the hours all felt the same.

The Fourth of July party that her parents hosted had always been the closest thing to peace that the family ever had. The house and garden were always filled with family and friends, laughter and singing while fireworks lit up the night sky as people gathered on the sand to stare up in awe.

George always made sure to leave his phone in a bedroom upstairs so he wouldn't be disturbed by work, a tradition that started one year after a young Esté sobbed her eyes out when her father had missed the prettiest fireworks she swore she'd ever seen because he was busy on the telephone.

That year, Esté hoped to do the same thing. She wanted to switch off from the world, even if it was just for one night, and enjoy some peace and quiet with the people that had been a part of her childhood.

She arrived at her home just after eight o'clock, slinging her car on the side of the driveway and slipping inside and up the stairs to her bedroom without being noticed. Music echoed throughout the house and conversations filtered through the doors and walls, a stunning sight to see the place looking so alive as Esté walked out onto her balcony to take a peek at the party.

She quickly showered, deciding to leave on the makeup from her shoot earlier that day before slipping on a white sundress and gold heeled sandals, her hair in waves that day instead of her usually Hollywood curls.

Esté looked at little different that night, at least she thought she did as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup wasn't as dramatic or deep as it normally was, her natural complexion shining through the light skin tint and her blue eyes lined with white instead of black. Coating her lips in a clear gloss, Esté spritzed a fresh perfume across her chest before leaving her phone on her bedside table and heading downstairs into the party.

"Here she is! Finally, darling, so good to have you here."

George's voice broke through the several different conversations that surrounded him, a beaming smile of pride and joy lighting up his blue eyes as he walked over to his daughter with open arms, hugging her tightly.

"Traffic was awful, sorry I'm so late."

"Don't worry sweetheart, the party never really starts until you're here anyway. Drink?"

She blushed under the watchful eyes and smiles of family and friends, nodding and accepting the glass of champagne her father handed to her.

"Oh Esté! Come here!"

Leonie ran out from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne in her hand, thrusting it into her husband's chest and wrapped her arms around her daughter.

"Hi mom," she laughed, embracing her warmly, "How was the flight?"

"Too long," she rolled her eyes, holding Esté's face in her hands and brushing her thumbs across her cheeks, "You look so beautiful, my darling. Oh, and I hope you don't mind, we invited Anthony. I figured you'd be OK with it since you told us you were friends and I couldn't bear to think about throwing one of these parties without having him here, it would've felt wrong. You're not upset, are you?"

Esté had no idea that her parents had invited Tony to the party that night, but instead of feeling her stomach sink at the news, she felt a calm breeze blow through her instead, leaving a smile on her lips as she shook her head.

Despite the headlines speculating that Tony Stark had had a scandalous affair, neither he or Esté had ever publicly commented on the situation. Aside from Alicia and Katy, Estélla had told anybody that asked that she and Tony had decided that they were better off as friends and that nothing untoward had ever happened.

"Of course not," she said softly, squeezing her mother's hands, "We are friends, it's absolutely fine."

"Oh good," she grinned and kissed Esté's cheek, "I must go and help your father with the crate of champagne, he's had far too much to drink already and I'm scared he'll drop the Veuve. Do have fun, sweetheart!"

That night, Esté did have fun. For the first two hours, she was doted on by the people that had known her since the day she was born, all of them eager to express their love for her and their pride in everything she'd achieved.

Her uncles and aunties gushed over her beauty and begged for secrets of the industry that Esté simply laughed at, refusing to share a single one. She dropped hints and gave crumbs that made their eyes sparkle with intrigue, but never once gave anything away.

Champagne was flowing endlessly and a BBQ manned by one of her father's oldest friends kept people full all night and as darkness descended on the beautiful ocean-front estate, everybody began to trickle down from the moonlit pool and wander across the lawn to the sand where a large bonfire sparkled against the water.

Esté followed suit, only paused at the foot of the treehouse as the other guests walked on past her.

"Looks good as new, doesn't it?"

A presence beside her was unmistakably Tony, she knew that before seeing or hearing him, but just like the mentioning of his name did earlier, Estélla didn't feel a twang of sadness or pain when he joined her side, not anymore.

"Thank you."

"How do you know it was me? Could've been the guy who fixed the window looking for a few extra bucks."

Esté rolled her eyes, "I don't think the window guy knew exactly which planks went where."

Tony looked at her with a smile. Her hair blew gently in the wind and her face seemed calm, a content smile gracing her skin and lighting up her eyes, a natural radiance shining from within her that the white dress enhanced like some kind of angel's wings or a halo would.

She was beautiful, her bright eyes reminding Tony of the little girl he longed to spend every minute of every day with when he was small and her wavy hair calling back to the way it would naturally fall after they'd swam in the ocean together.

"Get the fireworks, George! It's time!"

"Wanna watch from our usual spot?" Tony suggested, a hint of a smirk tugging on his lips.

Esté sighed, pursing her lips for a moment before nodding, "Sure. But I'm wearing a dress so don't look up."

Tony scoffed as she started to climb the ladder, "It's nothing I haven't seen befo- ouch."

Esté laughed to herself as she kicked off her high heels, letting them fall from her feet straight down onto the side of Tony's head and his shoulder.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Stop whining, come on."

They sat together in the treehouse and watched from the window as George and his brothers began setting up the fireworks at the bottom of the garden. There must've been fifty people sitting on blankets and logs around the bonfire and while Esté loved every single one of them, no part of her wished she was down there with them.

"How'd you like the party?" She asked Tony.

He was sat opposite her with his back against the wall, dressed in a pair of light wash jeans and a white linen shirt, silver jewellery decorating his fingers and wrists and his hair perfectly styled, swept up across his forehead and his stubble freshly shaved.

"Less stressful now that one of us doesn't have to distract the adults while the other runs into the kitchen to get more champagne," he laughed, taking a swig from the bottle he'd brought up and handing it to her.

Esté chuckled, taking the bottle and drinking some too, "How are you, by the way?"

Tony looked up with a raised brow, shrugging once, "I'm fine. Busy, like always. You?"

"I'm fine too," she said, "Glad I have a break this weekend, it's been nonstop recently."

He shifted and pulled his legs up by his body, resting his arms on top of his knees with his hands clasped together in the middle, head leant back against the wall as the moonlight shone through a crack in the wood across half of his face.

"I've been wanting to tell you that, uh, well, that I'm really proud of you," he said quietly, "Of everything you've done recently, everything you will do, these awards and shows and charity work and...well, everything. I always knew you'd rule the world one day and I'm happy to be able to watch you do it. I'm very proud of you, Stella."

Tony had known from a young age that he'd end up taking over his father's empire, and while Esté had one ready and waiting for her too, it was evident that the girl never had any interest in her father's business. In fact, Esté never really knew what she wanted a career in, not when she was a child or even a teenager, and she wasn't even sure when she did her first shoot with Calvin Klein, either.

The thing was, Esté always feared that she was never enough. She was always smart, but never top of the class, always tall but never the tallest, always fast but never the fastest, always pretty, but never the prettiest, and when she broke into the modelling world, those things stayed with her until finally, she started to believe that there was no reason why she couldn't be the best at something. As soon as she realised that she didn't have to settle for second place anymore, her mentality switched to some kind of gravitational pull, hooking the world on the end of a string and dropping it straight into her soft hands.

"Thank you, Tony. That means a lot to me," she smiled, admiring the darkness of his eyes and hollowness of his cheeks, "I've been thinking about things recently and I've come to the conclusion that, that I don't want to lose a lifelong friendship. What you did really hurt me and that won't change, but I think I can learn to forgive, for the sake of the little kids that still live inside of us."

Tony chewed on the inside of his lip as he listened to her speak. He'd thought about nothing but her since she'd called him for help at the house a few weeks ago, dreamt of nothing but the way it felt to hold her in his arms again and to just be around her, to hear her voice and her laugh, to see her smile and smell her perfume.

He knew that things might never go back to the way they were and Tony wouldn't have blamed Esté for never looking him in the eye again after what he did to their relationship, but underneath everything were the foundations of two lives shared for seventeen long years, with memories tied to places and things that nobody else would ever understand.

"I-if you want to be-"

"Yes," Tony swallowed, "I don't want to lose our friendship, I never did, I-"

He cut himself off, looking down at his shoes for a moment as he realised he was on the edge of a spill of confessions that didn't lend themselves to the moment, ones that Estélla didn't want or need to hear right then.

"I would love to be your friend again, Stella."

The silence that followed was short but for that brief moment, was the first ounce of peace Esté truly felt since she'd walked out of the Stark Tower last year. She'd cried since and she'd almost fallen in love since, but regardless of everything in between, Esté knew she could never really be at peace if the half that made her a whole for most of her life was someone she resented.

A loud cheer accompanied the fireworks and both Tony and Esté peered through the window together to watch the colours light up the sky. They might not have spent the day swimming in the ocean or listening to music by the pool, but as they sat together in the treehouse and watched George try and not kill his family while he lit the fireworks, it became apparent that some things never changed.

"Shall we carve our names into the wood again?" Esté said, a spur of the moment suggestion after the fireworks gave her an overwhelming sense of childhood nostalgia.

Tony was quiet for a moment and embarrassment was quick to tint Esté's cheeks bright red, cringing at what she'd just said and parting her lips to speak, only to be silenced.

"I was literally thinking the same thing," he grinned and reached into his pocket, rummaging around for a moment before pulling out a set of keys.

Estélla watched with a breathless smile and a heart full of happiness as Tony furrowed his brows in concentration while he pressed down against the wood with the edge of his key, jaw tensed as he carved his name on the window ledge.

"Here," he said, handing her the keys.

Esté took them and pushed the champagne bottle to the side, holding the key like she would a pencil and pushing down against the wood with a tight grip and tense arm.

"This is stupid, I can't even-"

"You just need some muscle, let me help."

Tony laughed and moved to sit behind her, pressed up against her back with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other hand tightly holding her own. He felt her inhale sharply and loosened his grip on her waist for a moment, expecting her to push him off, only the rejection never came.

Esté dropped her shoulder and let him lean over by her ear. He pushed down on her hand and the key as he helped her carve her name into the wood next to his own, stealing quick glances at her pretty face in the light of the fireworks.

"Perfect.," she said with a smile, satisfied as she brushed away the dust and looked down at their names.

"Friends again till this treehouse collapses, I don't make the rules," Tony smirked and shoved the keys back into his pocket, picking up the champagne and taking a gulp.

Neither of them moved from the position they were in, Esté's back resting against Tony's chest and his hand sitting on her waist while they both stared out at the pink and orange fireworks passing across the face of the moon.

"Let's hope there's no more storms," She whispered, turning her head slightly to look up at him.

Tony tensed then, his heart freezing inside his chest as if he suddenly became aware of what was in his hands, of the beautiful eyes looking up at him with a hint of a smile holding a forgiveness he never thought he'd see.

"There'll no more storms, Stella," he said quietly, breathing shallow as he swallowed just once under the intense capture of her gaze, "I promise you that, hand on heart."