Burning Heart // CL16

Twenty Four

Then the race happens.

Fuck.

Everything changed in an instant. The fear I felt rushing through my veins when I watched in slow motion as Charles spun off the track was like nothing else I had ever experienced. He had been complaining about the brake lines for a while and there had been issues last week in Austria towards the end of the race... I was seriously questioning how reliable this team was, making a mental note to ask Christian whether monetarily this sponsorship was paying off or whether our strategic software would be better utilised at a team like Mercedes who were renowned for their strategy.

I really didn't think that anything could have convinced me back into his driver room. I thought I had been hurt too bad to ever go back but suddenly, watching him crash into that barrier while going over 150 mph, all of that logic disappeared. It faded and all I could think about was our last conversation. The conversation where I told him to never talk to me again. I didn't want that to be my last memory of him.

Isa's hand instantly gravitated over to mine, squeezing it tightly like she knew the vice that was around my heart at the sight of his car in the wall. The panic instantaneous as I found myself finally moving from where I was sat watching the race, now standing and back at the barrier. I had been trying to keep a low profile before, although I wasn't sure who I was avoiding as I noticed that Marian had been led out the garage before Charles even left it, me receiving meaningful, begging looks from him to listen and believe him.

The pain only quadrupled as I heard him reassure the engineers that he was fine but I could hear in his voice that those words were total lies. I could hear the pain in his voice and I listened tense, my knuckles white from how hard I was gripping the railing as I heard his heavy aggravated breathing over the radio.

Then there was the scream.

His anger. His pain and I felt every single piece of it, that scream rattling around my mind, the despair so evident and part of me couldn't help but question whether it was just the crash that caused him so much pain. Did my pain affect him? Because every cell in my body was reacting to his as I watched on, filled with nerves as he was comforted by people at the side of the track, all of whom were clearly failing to console him. I could, I knew that... I just needed him to stop delaying his return to the garage. Even from the monitors, I could tell he thought he had let the team down.

I watched helplessly as he broke down and fought with my natural urges to run around the track to him, painfully frozen in place as I ignored the race after that point. Eventually I sat back down but my eyes were no longer on the screens around the garage, instead they were squarely on the garage door and the dread in my chest grew as I ignored everyone around me and looked back, waiting for the flurry of activity near the door to give away his arrival.

I watched with great relief as he instantly turned to where he knew I was sat and automatically held out his hand for me to take. Something I did in an instant, having already walked straight to him the second he stepped into the garage. I knew that we were shielded from the public by Ferrari team members and that was the only reason he did that action but right now I didn't care. I didn't want our last conversation to be our last... I wanted to help him.

I knew I could help him so long as I ignored the voice in my mind that was telling me to run. I should be anywhere but where we were going. As pathetic as it was, despite everything that had happened and all the promises I had made myself just a day ago, there was no way I could leave him right now. I hated myself for it but I needed him to be okay and I knew I was the person to help make that happen.

Even if it destroyed me in the process.

It didn't matter to me that Marian was upstairs as he led me down the familiar maze of halls. I didn't care that there was still a race going on outside, as the door closed behind us I knew that I was exactly where I was meant to be. For better or for worse. The minute we walked into the room I refused to let go of his hand despite the way he tried to shake me off, almost as though he had finally realised what his first reaction had been. Now he was trying to do what I'd been begging him for weeks to do and let me go away, only issue was it is now too late. I was determined to help and there was nothing he could say that was going to change my mind.