Page 29 of Flat Out
I didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see another headline or Callum’s name if it wasn’t him.
Then again, aside from the endless stream of notifications, there were very few people who would contact me anyway–the boys. The last time I’d spoken to my family was in Monaco, about a month ago, when I blew up at them for their lack of support from me signing with Ferrari and the fact that I’d just won the most prestigious race in the world.
I had a lot to be proud of that day, and they didn’t give a single fuck about me. My own family didn’t want me once Istarted to take the spotlight from Étienne. My sister and I barely talked to begin with, so no surprise there. But to not even hear from my mom was a shock. She was typically the one to make sure we always smoothed things over.
This time was different, though. In their eyes, I betrayed our family when I accepted the offer from Luminis. Étienne was still hooked up to machines, and I got the chance to participate in testing. I may have been given an olive branch, but Iearnedmy spot here. Except, to my parents, me not consulting them before accepting a seat at Ferrari next year and the timing of my acceptance, I was a disgrace.
Seems about right.
The fallout had been volcanic—accusations, disappointment, silence. And when it ended, I was alone in this echo chamber of a life I’d built, wondering when I’d traded every safety net I’d ever had for a seat in a car that could kill me.
I didn’t have my family anymore, so I tried to cling to the ones I did, the three constants in a sea of people who wanted me gone. They were the hands pulling me out of the abyss, even when I didn’t ask.
Except I couldn’t reach any of them right now.
Tears welled in my eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time this week.
I glanced over my shoulder toward the open balcony door. Inside, in the faint glow from the kitchen, I could see the pink fuzzy blanket draped over the back of my couch—one of the many things Callum had sent me. I wanted to wrap myself in it until I could pretend I was with him. But the doubt whispered anyway. Were the gifts because he cared… or because he felt obligated?
The thought that I couldn’t be strong for him the way he’d been for me made me hiccup on a sob. I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound, but it broke through anyway.My shoulders shook, tears spilling hot and fast as I curled into myself on the padded lounge chair.
Why?Why was I never good enough? Why did I always love more than I was loved? Why did I keep handing my heart to people who didn’t ask for it and couldn’t keep it safe?
Why, why, why–until the word lost all meaning and became nothing but a pulse in my skull, pounding with each shallow breath.
Why, why, why–like a metronome I couldn’t shut off, dragging me deeper into the quiet, merciless ache.
Now, my head throbbed from the constant spinning of thoughts. I’d been moving at light speed—racing between countries, trying to keep Callum fed and comfortable, doing my job, fighting battles I never thought I’d have to fight. But here in my flat, there was nothing to distract me from the spiral.
I knew what it felt like to be used. To be just good enough to serve a purpose, until I wasn’t anymore. That same ugly voice in my head whispered it now. Maybe thiswasobligation. Maybe he felt sorry for me.
I’d been here before, in different clothes and different cities, convincing myself someone’s kindness meant love when it didn’t. Convincing myself I was wanted.
And I hated that even after all this time, sometimes I couldn’t tell the difference.
Forcing myself to my feet, I grabbed my phone and shuffled inside. A heavy sigh escaped me as I closed the door, then flicked off the lights one at a time until I was plunged into darkness. Only my phone screen lit my path, until I crawled into bed and clutched my pillow as if it could fill the distance between me and Callum.
Soon. I’d see him soon.
Austria was next on the calendar. I should have been packing, running simulations, strategizing how to survive the next FIA meeting without losing my mind.
Instead, I burrowed further into my blankets. I didn’t want to leave here, didn’t want to walk through the airport with cameras tracking every blink, didn’t want to face Henric again.
I just… didn’t want to do it alone.
The green roomlights buzzed overhead, but it was the silence inside me that felt loudest.
Everything hurt. My skin, my throat, my ribs. My period was finally over, but I still felt like I’d been chewed up and spit out. The last seven days had crawled by like years, every one of them pulling a piece of me apart.
I sat in front of the vanity, staring at a stranger.
Red lips. Smoky eyes. Power blazer. Wearing all black, because what was even the point anymore in feeling anything else. It was a warrior costume, a parody of strength, nothing but a facade.
The act was all autopilot now. Breathe, smile, answer questions about being brave while your own team wanted you gone and your inbox was full of strangers saying you deserve it. Talk about driver safety when the people who were supposed toprotect us didn't care. Stand up for sexism while being told you should kill yourself for being in a male sport.
Well, merde, maybe Ishould. Not like it would matter anyway. The world would keep turning, and everyone's lives would move on. The thought made my eyes water. Forever forgettable. That was my entire existence.
And then there was Callum.
