The Bull Prince | Max Verstappen

SEQUEL - Chapter 11

Joanna had come to a conclusion after sitting in the same position for hours on her flight back to Europe as one of the only ones who couldn't sleep. A glass of champagne in her hand to soothe her nerves after a weekend like this.

Max was the type of man to give endless chances, to always have your back and to truly accept someone for who they truly were. He was one of the good ones. Once you held his love, there was nothing he wouldn't do for you. Giving up on someone he loved took him so much, because he wasn't one to take away the love he had given, easily. He was one to love and support, even though the other person might have never earned it.

Joanna wondered how deeply she must have wounded him, over all these years together that Max finally didn't see another way but to let her go. She wondered how badly she must have hurt him, how deep the wounds were and whether they would ever heal completely. To be honest, Joanna had never been so afraid as she was of this answer. A response that might strip her of her humanity. Make her the monster she already believed to be.

It was the sudden movement on the other side of the corridor that caused Joanna to wipe the single tear which had escaped her eyes with the knuckle of the hand which was still holding the almost full glass of now warm champagne. To be honest, she didn't feel like drinking.

"You should get some rest," Lewis whispered as he crouched down opposite of Joanna, intending to not wake somebody. None other than the two of them seemed to be awake at the moment and he would quite like it to stay that way. Wearing grey sweatpants and a soft-looking hoody, Lewis looked like a worried domestic-loving husband from some cliché romance movie. Roscoe was snoring in the little booth across the corridor where Lewis had watched some movies for the main time of the flight but the light in his booth had been turned off for quite some while by now, so maybe he had been sleeping for some time as well.

"It's fine. I'm just a little bit in my head." Joanna told him, exhaling slowly to fight her tears. Crying in front of Lewis was the last thing she wanted to do right now. Joanna always liked to think of herself as a strong and independent person. That she didn't need someone else.

"What about?" Lewis asked after he reached out and took Joanna's hand in his, so the Austrian knew she wasn't alone.

"Nothing of importance," Joanna answered, but she could see in the look Lewis gave her, that he knew what she was thinking about. What it was, that troubles her so much sleep won't claim her. Gently resting his hand on her knee, Lewis gave her a soft smile.

"Don't you think it's important if it keeps you awake at night?" The Brit asked softly, but Joanna gave him an aggravated look.

"Not everything has to be spoke about." She pointed out, still, Lewis didn't let it go. Not when he felt like she needed a shoulder to cry on, a person to talk to and rely on.

"I just think..." He started to speak but was stopped by the Austrian roughly.

"Stop taking a mile when you've given only an inch." She warned, her voice came out powerful, her tone warning.

"I'm not," Lewis argued. "We're friends and I care for you. This is me caring."

"Then stop!" she demanded, her piercing eyes cutting through him.

"We are not friends, and my fucking private life is none of your business." She added, stunning Lewis into silence.

"Okay." The Brit allowed after another moment. He understood her anger, but he still liked to think that Joanna would talk to him if she felt ready and needed someone to listen to her. But until then, he would give her space. Forcing her won't do any good.

"Sooner or later you have to stop running, Joanna." The Brit said to her, which didn't cause the younger Mercedes driver to acknowledge him at first before she angrily shoved him away from her, which caused him to lose balance and fall back on to lay in the craped up space which had been Joanna's foot space before.