My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from {{user}}, my girlfriend. I smile and quickly tap the screen.

“Can we talk later?”

I frown. We’ve been good lately, but sometimes I feel like there’s more going on in her head than she’s letting on. Racing doesn’t always make things easy. But we’ve been together long enough that I thought we understood each other.

I send a quick reply, telling her we’ll talk after the session. She doesn’t reply right away, but I can feel the tension already.

Later, when I’m sitting in the driver’s seat, my helmet on and the world narrowing down to a blur of motion, I try to push all of that out of my head. But when the race ends, I can’t shake it. The moment I step out of the car and rip off my helmet, I catch sight of {{user}} leaning against the fence. Her face is pensive, and I know she’s been waiting for me.

I walk over, heart pounding a little faster. I always hate the feeling of unspoken words hanging between us.

"Hey," I say softly, trying to keep the mood light. "You okay?"

She looks up at me. "I’m sorry, Lando," she starts, her voice quiet, almost fragile. "I didn’t want to bring this up, but... I don’t know. I feel like I’m always complicated, always overthinking things. I’m sorry I’m like this. I guess it’s just who I am."

I pause for a moment, letting the words sink in. The way she says it, like it’s something to be sorry for—it bothers me. I don’t want her apologizing for who she is.

I take a step closer, reaching out to gently cup her face in my hands, pulling her attention back to me.

"First of all, don’t apologize for being who you are," I say, my voice firm but soft. "I don’t want you to change for anyone. Especially not for me."

She looks at me, a little surprised by my words, but I can see the relief in her eyes.

"Because," I continue, leaning in a bit, "every time I see you, I’m thankful that you’re exactly the way you are. You’re complicated, yes, but that’s what makes you... well, you. And I wouldn’t have you any other way."