Lilly & Leclerc ~ [CL 16]

34. Lonely

Walking into the paddock this morning was quietly one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. Whilst in the past I've walked into the area fine, I've always had Amber or someone else by my side. I've never been known on my own, I've never been known as someone's 'girlfriend' on the track, I think they like to call them WAGS. The very idea of being part of the group makes me uncomfortable. People love it, I've seen the way camera's flock Amber and Daniel whenever they arrive together, the thought was enough to terrify me. So Charles made the decision that I would arrive separately, to avoid any chaos or uncomfortable situations. So today, on arrival, I was alone.

As I've been for most of the weekend.

There were brief moments where I had company, Amber and I grabbed lunch on Saturday in her spare hour of the day. Last night I managed to pull conversation from Charles before he looked to me with big eyes and said "I'm so sorry Lill but I have to sleep." Plus, through the race today I stood with Arthur, making jokes over the radios coming into our ears and laughing at how loud everyone screamed every time his or Charles' face was shown on one of the tv streams.

Our smiles didn't last too long, the distinct crackle of Charles's voice into our headphones wiped the expression clean off. "No. no. no!" The increasingly disappointed cries hit me like a punch in the gut. The sight of his car pulling to a stop made my eyes squeeze shut in disappointment. A DNF was his worst nightmare. It was the one thing Charles had shared with me last night before falling into bed to rest - his 'worst case'. The quiet resignation of his disappointed cries is what made it the worst. My heart squeezed in a way that made me feel nauseous and all I wanted to do is wrap him up in my arms. Only I couldn't, because there was at least 100 people who needed to speak with him before I could and he was stuck on the opposite end of the track with his head in his hands.

"What do we do now?" I asked Arthur clueless as to the process. Would Charles get to escape early? Would he even want us here? Arthur's face just scrunched as half of the engineers chat excitedly over Carlos's P4.

"It's better to leave him." Arthur explained through a quiet mumble, expression flattening. I feel my heart sink with the words. "He'll be pulled into shit after this, let's just go." Arthur decided for us as the checkered flag was waved. With the decision made he guided me away from the garage, through the wall of photographers and reporters crowded outside the Ferrari garage and into a car which took us to the hotel. Somehow the pair of us skipped out on the sickening traffic that those in the crowd of the race seemed to be stuck in - I guess that's the advantage of travelling with a Leclerc brother. Or maybe it's just the advantage of leaving before podium celebrations have even commenced.

We made it back to the hotel in record time, which was great. Apart from now all that's left to do is wait on Charles and his grand return. I've flicked through all the channels of the TV and ordered a watermelon flavour frozen margarita to the room. I've showered and began packing my bags for my flight home tomorrow all without so much of a hint of his presence, not even a text update on his location.

A heavy weight settles in my stomach, the feeling growing with each item of clothing that stacks up inside of the grey suitcase that I had tugged through Heathrow on Wednesday morning. Through all my actions to pass the time, all I can think of is Charles. The hurt expression on his face and the way his eyes wouldn't meet anyone's as he slid his helmet from his head told me everything I needed to know. He's wounded over the whole thing.

When the time hits 11:45 on my phone the ache I feel for him to be here has grown to annoyance. Especially when Carlos replies to my confused message asking if the pair of them were still stuck in meetings at the Ferrari garage and he quickly responded with words which made my shoulders roll back with and jaw clench: 'There was no meeting today.'. Of course, other words were attached to the message, a fun poke at Charles calling me Fleur, a thanks in exchange for the congratulations I sent him. None of them mattered, not with the first words there in front of me.