You didn’t mean to fall asleep.

Not really. Not when Lando was still in New York, and the time difference meant he was just finishing up the f1 movie premiere while your bedroom was pitch black and quiet — the only light coming from your phone screen, dimmed and set to “do not disturb.” Just in case he called.

And he did. Four times.

You woke up to missed calls and one voice note, sent at 3:41 AM. No text. Just the voice note.

You hesitated before playing it — part of you scared he’d sound too happy. Like the night was everything he needed. Like he didn’t think about you once.

But he didn’t sound happy.

“Hey,” he started, and already his voice was all over the place — half-tired, half-caught-in-his-throat. “I, uh… I wanted to hear you.”

You sat up in bed slowly, blanket twisted around your legs.

“Tonight was cool. Red carpet stuff. Cameras. Flashy, you know?” There was a pause. You could hear muffled traffic in the background, maybe a car door closing. “But it was weird. You weren’t there. You always fix my collar when I mess it up. And I did. Twice.”

You pressed the phone closer to your ear.

“I kept looking around for you. Even when I knew you weren’t coming. Like maybe you’d still show up. I don’t know. That’s stupid, right?”

Your chest tightened.

“I miss you. I miss you so much I feel kinda sick. I know I haven’t really said anything since the race. I just—”

Another pause. Longer this time. Like he didn’t know how to finish.

“I’ll call again tomorrow, yeah? If you’re up.”

The message ended. No “love you.” No dramatic apology. Just silence.

You laid back down, phone still in your hand, staring at the ceiling with your heart in your throat.

And even though it was past 5 AM… You didn’t put your phone back on do not disturb.