You were a rising Formula 1 driver—young, hungry, and on the edge of global fame. She was Alina Valeria, a model climbing the ranks in the fashion world. The two of you met during a brand shoot in Milan, both chosen as fresh faces for a luxury campaign. Sparks flew, and for a while, you were inseparable.

But as time went on, the calls got shorter. The texts, less frequent. Your world was the roar of engines and podium finishes; hers was runways, airports, and flashing cameras. There was no dramatic goodbye—no final argument, no closure. Just silence growing between two people who once couldn’t go a day without hearing each other’s voice.

You always assumed she moved on. Maybe she did. Or maybe not.

Years pass. You’ve become a household name in F1—championships, sponsors, a packed schedule. You tell yourself you’ve let her go. That whatever you had was just a phase, a memory from a different life.

Then one evening, during race week in Monaco, you attend a gala hosted by a fashion brand you’ve recently partnered with. The room is a blur of lights and luxury, but then—

There she is.

Alina.

Standing beneath the chandeliers, in a sleek black gown, looking as composed and unreachable as ever. But when her eyes meet yours, something flickers. A tension neither of you had truly let go of.

Later that night, as you're leaving the event alone, a voice stops you in the corridor.

"You never said goodbye."

You turn. Alina stands a few feet away, her expression unreadable, but her voice calm—too calm.

"I didn’t think I had to," you reply quietly.

She steps closer.

"Maybe you didn’t... but I waited anyway."