[3] MARANELLO || C. LECLERC

FORTY FIVE

I was hurting. My best friend of twenty-two years was injured to the point where his consultant and doctors thought it would be best to place him in an induced coma to prevent any further damage. He was hurt doing the thing he loved the most. I couldn't bear to think how Dilara felt, knowing that she had absolutely nothing but love and adoration for Max. Desperation washed over me; the only thing that felt necessary right now was for me to hold Dilara in my arms and promise her it would be alright. But even I was doubting myself.

I could feel Lando's presence more than ever. His voice was soft as he spoke to papa, probably because he didn't want me to overhear their conversation, but while Charles was on his way to the hospital from Silverstone, I was pleased to have that extra level of familiarity and comfort in Lando.

I focused on the window so hard that my eyes began to blur and fog over, leaving me a little disorientated. I did nothing about it and allowed the feeling to take over. There were no words to describe how bad the ache in my chest was becoming. Fear. Terror. Anxiety. Losing Max would be the worst thing to ever happen to me.

I was so focused on literally nothing that I didn't notice Dilara leave Max's side and head towards the door. I only realised when the handle moved with a click and she stepped out of the room. It took me a moment to gather myself, to rub my eyes and almost reset myself, but as soon as I could look at her, I did. My heart shattered into a million more pieces on seeing the devastation plastered across her face. The bags under her eyes told me two things; she hadn't slept, and she hadn't stopped crying. I felt like it was my duty to be there for her, despite feeling the exact same way.

Mama let my hand go and I wrapped my arms around Dilara's petite frame, pressing my lips to her forehead before pulling her so close that I felt worried initially that I would smother her. She wrapped her arms around me and clung onto me like I was the only thing she had left. I imagined her pain to be somewhat different to mine; if Charles were in Max's position, I really wouldn't know what to do with myself, and I never wanted to find out. I loved Max, but the way Dilara loved Max was totally different to the way I did.

"I hate myself," Dilara whispered through her sobs and the feeling of her chest quickly rising and falling quickened against my own. I ran my fingers up and down her back. "I should've been at the race. I should've been there to tell him how much I love him before he got in the car. One kiss, Camille. Instead, we did it over text. I never expected this to happen."

"It's okay," I tried to remain calm. If I worked myself into a state of panic or tears, then it would rub off worse on Dilara, and we didn't need to do that right now. You can be brave, Camille. "It will be okay. Don't put all this pressure on yourself. I know it's really hard. Max wouldn't want either of us to be like this."

I felt her nod, but she didn't speak. Dilara simply pulled away from my grip and she squeezed my hand, before smiling at me, mama, papa and Lando, then excusing herself. I wanted to follow, but I also didn't want to suffocate her. She needed the time, just like I did.

"Shall we go in?" Lando held his hand out for me to take and initially, I was sceptical. I didn't know if I could handle it again; the darkness of the room despite the blinds being a little open to let the natural light pour in from outside, or the claustrophobic sound of the beeping machines which surrounded Max to keep him alive. "We can take it slow, and I'll stay with you unless you want some privacy."

"Okay." Nodding my head, I took Lando's hand and followed him into Max's private room. Mama looked at me with sad eyes, before both her and papa headed down the corridor in the direction of the canteen and the toilets. En-route, they would probably find Dilara and take her with them to distract her for as long as possible.