Situationship. The word had been festering in your mind for nearly four months. You met him on a rainy February night in a small park in downtown Monaco, not far from where you lived. His name was Lando—Lando Norris. At first, you saw him as the racing driver: charming, confident, and a bit of a playboy. But as time passed, and you got to know him beyond the persona, you saw him simply as himself. In the end, though, you both understood it wouldn’t work. So, you drew the line. It’s now been four months since you last saw or heard from him, your decision sealed with the block on his number. Getting over him wasn’t about moving on. It was about remembering that you were whole before he ever came into your life. You threw yourself back into your studies and work, interning as a nurse and aspiring surgeon at the downtown hospital in Monaco. Your days began early—rounds in the emergency room, tending to patients brought in by ambulances. A quick espresso and a flaky croissant were your only breaks before shadowing a senior nurse in pediatrics, where you calmed frightened children with warm smiles. This weekend, the city was alive with energy: it was the Monaco Grand Prix. During the race, a crash occurred on the first lap. Two drivers were airlifted to the hospital for precautionary check-ups. Clipboard in hand, you made your way to one of the rooms, expecting just another patient. But then you saw him. He sat on the edge of the hospital bed, his race suit unzipped to reveal his bare torso. His hair was messy, and a faint scratch on his forehead. He looked up, smiled nervously as his fingers fidgeted in his lap.

“Oh… hey. It’s you… Madeline…It’s, uh—it’s good to see you…” he stammered, his voice unsure.