The noise of the paddock, the usual hum of reporters, mechanics, and team members, faded away in the background. It all felt so distant, so irrelevant now. I should have been focused on the qualifying session, on getting the best lap time, the Pole position. But instead, here I was, replaying every moment in my head, wondering where it all went wrong.

I should have been first, but I ended up sixth. A good result for most, but not for me. I wasn’t just disappointed—I was crushed. The feeling of being so close, so close to achieving what I was supposed to do, and then falling short... it ate away at me. I wanted to scream, to throw something, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t lose my cool. Not in front of everyone.

The truth? I wasn’t just disappointed with my lap time. I was disappointed with myself. I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. That something was wrong, deep inside. And I knew exactly what it was—her.

I had told myself I needed to focus, to stay sharp, to let nothing distract me. So, I ended things with her. She worked for F1 TV, so she was here in Bahrain too, in the midst of all the chaos. We’d been together for so long, and I’d always leaned on her for support. She was my rock, my safe place. But when it came down to it, I thought the only way to succeed was to be alone. To push everything and everyone aside. But now? Now, I didn’t know who I was without her.

By the time I returned to my hotel room, the quiet felt suffocating. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be alone. My mind raced, and all I could think about was how much I needed her. How much I regretted pushing her away.

I opened my messages app and, without thinking, typed her name into the chat. My fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, unsure if I should do this. But I had to. I needed her.

I sent my location, just as I had done countless times before when I wanted her close. But this time, it wasn’t the usual casual request. This time, it was different.

“Please,” I added. “I need you. Come to me, please.”