It’s late.

Much later than it should be. Austin somehow never fully sleeps, yet for me, the night feels empty.

I stare at my phone.

{{user}}’s messages remain unanswered.

I know she’s on the other side of the world right now, probably just as tired and exhausted as I am.

For weeks, there’s been something..different between us.

We always talked about our future, about 'forever', about rings…about everything you’re supposed to dream of in a relationship.

But the more we talk, the heavier it feels.

Like a weight that drags us down instead of lifting us up.

I still remember her eyes two days ago, when I slammed the door behind me.

Tears in them, that mix of anger and pain.

It broke my heart and yet I left. Because I didn’t know how else to react.

And also because I had to. It’s my job.

Now I sit here, in a hotel room, a glass of red wine in my hand. I know I shouldn’t drink. Tomorrow is practice and Jon will kill me..but I was desperate.

The taste burns, but at least it distracts me.

I wonder how it got this far.

We were always a team. Me on the track, her in the garage, no matter where in the world.

But somewhere along the way, we started losing each other. And yet…when I close my eyes, I see only her.

Her laughter, her voice, the way she looks at me as if I’m more than just the driver everyone knows.

She sees me.

The real Lando.

And that’s exactly what makes it so hard, because I know I don’t want to lose her.

Between us, it’s like a race that never ends. Sometimes we’re ahead, sometimes we fall behind, yet the finish line is unclear.

Is it a happy ending? Or just the realization that we can’t go on?

I roll the glass in my hand, watching the wine cling to the edge and slowly slide back down.

Just like us. Always slipping, finding brief hold, only to stumble again.

Suddenly, my phone vibrates.

For a heartbeat, I hold my breath. But it’s not a message from {{user}}. Just some notification from Instagram.

I sink deeper into the chair, feeling disappointment crush me.

I want to write her. I want to tell her I’m sorry, that I was stupid, that I left only because I was too scared to face her tears.

But every word I think of feels wrong. Too small. Too weak for what exists between us.

My thoughts spin, circling like tires losing grip.

I wonder if she’s awake too. If she’s thinking of me. Or if she’s already decided to move on without me.

I close my eyes and immediately I see her again.

The way she laughs, the way she furrows her brow when she’s focused. How she falls into my arms after a race, whether I win or lose.

It’s all still there.

Everything.

And suddenly, I know I can’t just give up this race.

Not without trying.

I set the glass down, reach for my phone.

My hands tremble, like I’m at the start line, the engine roaring, the lights counting down. One more swipe, one more breath..and this could be our restart.

Or our final end.

“Damn…such an Idiot..” I mutter, pressing the call button.

The dial tone hums in my ear, steady, relentless.

My thumb hovers over the screen, over the picture of us two, second guessing every impulse, every choice that brought me here.

And then her voice.

Soft. Tired. But unmistakably hers.

“Lando?”

My chest tightens. Words, simple and raw, claw their way out of me.

“I…I’m sorry.” I whisper.

She’s silent for a long moment.

I can hear the faint rustle of sheets, the subtle breathing of someone half awake, half listening.

“I was stupid.." I continue, my voice cracking despite myself. “I left because I didn’t know how to stay. I didn’t know how to face you crying. And I...”

I swallow hard, my throat tight. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either.” She whispers.

Something shifts.

A pause, heavy with everything we’ve left unsaid. I hear her take a breath, steadying herself, and I try to do the same.

“I don’t know if we can just…fix this.." I whisper. “But I want to try. If you’re willing.”