Hate You - LN

25 - Lando

***

"Hey mate," Max greets me from my apartment as I shuffle through the door and into the dark space. My flight landed after dark and I'm impossibly exhausted as well as stupidly wide awake.  Max is staying with me in Monaco for the week between races, or at least that's the plan I'd thrown at him. I'd sent him a plane ticket this morning, the only reason he was here before me was because his flight to Monaco was shorter. He never asked any questions, and I suppose just got on the plane. "Is everything all right?"

The door shuts behind me on its slow-close hinges and I shuffle the hood of my Quadrant hoodie over my head and pull off my cap. Max's face blanches but to his credit, that's his only visible reaction. I know my face is red and swollen and my eyes are bloodshot. I felt terrible for telling people no pictures all day but I didn't want anyone seeing me like this. I haven't looked like this or cried like I had on that bathroom floor this morning since the day Devin left. 

I toss my car keys onto my kitchen island. They clash with the marble with a loud crack. I realize Max has stayed silent, obviously waiting for some kind of explanation. I try and breathe, but stepping into the protection of my apartment is like flipping a switch somewhere inside of me. The media training I'd had since I was a kid only showed what I or the team wanted for the cameras flipped off. Breathing felt difficult, the air is too stuffy. My apartment is on the eighteenth floor, I could have left a window cracked. 

"I- fuck." I stumble over my words, trying to breathe. "I fucked up. I- I think I really messed things up. I have said so many things but then- we." I try and clear my throat but the sound is more like a cough and momentary panic shoots through my chest that I shouldn't be standing over my living room carpet, but the kitchen sink is a few steps away. "She left again. I-I should have stopped her. I-I have no idea how to fix this. I don't know how to do this."

Max moves toward me his pace quick and he clasps his hands on my shoulders. I realize now that I am shaking. "Slow down Lan," his voice is soft with the tone he usually uses when I'm upset after a crash or shit qualifying. But this is nothing like that. Races I can make up for, qualifying I can move up the field the next day. This? I have no idea how to fix this. "Talk to me, what happened, you've been radio silent for two days and then I just get a plane ticket sent to my email. You've got me worried. Is your family okay? Did something happen with the team?"

Slowly, I let my friend guide me to my couch and I fall back on it, rubbing my swollen eyes with trembling fingers. "Devin." I let out a shaky breath and Max sits on the coffee table in front of me, resting his elbows on his knees and interlocking his fingers. He shoots me a look, encouraging me to go on. "I've been horrible to her, I- I've called her so many things. And last night, we- she and I. Well, it was her birthday and she was somewhat sober and I was dead sober, we both I guess decided."

"You slept with Devin?" He cuts me off, understanding where I am going with this.

I lean forward and cradle the front of my face in my hands. "Yeah," my voice is barely audible through my fingers.

"But you," Max pauses, a look of confusion on his face. "You told me you hated her and she hated you?"

Slowly, I nod. "I know."

"How does sleeping with Devin make you upset like this?" He looks genuinely confused. "If you both hate each other- well I mean I'll admit I'm a little confused as to why you guys would sleep together in the first place if you hate each other..." Max trails off and I look up to meet my friend's eyes. He sees something that I wish Devin could see as easily as him. "Shit. You still like her."

My shoulder stings like a thousand bees from carrying my bag on it all day. But I'd carried it on my shoulder because I wanted it to hurt, to feel something other than regret. "I'm still in love with her. Never mind just liking her. And I have done nothing but call her names and blame her for leaving four years ago."

Max is silent for a moment as he thinks. "Maybe you should try apologizing?"

I scoff. "She would laugh in my face, think it's some ploy for me to just get at her."

"Jesus Lando, what have you been saying to her?"

I groan. "Nothing good. And I've treated her worse. Something happened to her in the four years we haven't been talking. I don't know if she trusts anyone anymore, let alone an apology from me."

"What do you mean? Did she go through a nasty breakup or something?"

I run my sweaty fingers through my hair and they stick and pull on a few strands. "I don't know. I don't think so." I think back on it. She never said anything about dating anyone, but she'd blurted out when I saw the pregnancy test packaging that she hadn't had sex since she'd last been with me. I sigh a deep breath out, trying to relax the muscles in my body to stop trembling like a stupid leaf. "She's got scars, Max. Physical ones."

Max grimaces. "Shit."

"Yeah."

"Wait, didn't you say that when Charles punched you Arthur and Devin were trying to get him to shut up?"

I nod and release the hold I have on my hair, my scalp thanks me and stops stinging. "Yeah, something about this was how things started before, and Charles saying that he promised her she wouldn't get hurt again."

"And you're sure she hasn't had some kind of nasty end to a relationship."

I felt all the blood drain from my face. "You think she was in an abusive relationship or something?"

Max slowly nods. "It would make sense, the scars, leaving you for some random reason. What if she was blackmailed?"

My voice is nothing more than a breath. "She told me she didn't hate me one of the first times she helped me with my shoulder. She only started telling me she hated me after I'd been hurting her for weeks."

Realization crashes over me again and I freeze, unable to move. What if that was it? What if Devin left because she didn't have a choice, what if all I've been doing this entire time is hating myself and hating her for something neither of us had any control over? Sickness turns in my stomach again and I breathe through my nose. 

My breath starts to feel thin, the room spinning around me. "Lan?" Max's voice snaps me back to the present.

"She'll never forgive me, Max. Someone hurt her. It would make sense why Charles is so protective. Why would she forgive me if doing that just meant that she forgives someone else who has been hurting her differently?"

"I think we need to slow down here. We're speculating Lan, we don't know for sure."

"I- what do I do?"

Max looks out the window, deep in thought and sighs. "Charles is in Monaco right now right?"

I shrug my shoulders without thinking and wince. Thankfully Max misses the show of pain. "Yeah, Devin flew here this morning with him. They would've landed a few hours before me."

"Go over there and ask him what happened. If you can at least understand what happened to her, maybe you can find the right way to fix things between you two."

I look at my best friend to see if he's joking or not. When I realize he's dead serious I raise my eyebrows a little shocked. "You remember he punched me in the face, right?"

Max nods. "Yeah, you and P were on Facetime for two hours as she taught you how to put makeup on to cover it up. I remember," he says flatly, a bit of humour dancing in his expression. "But it sounds like you know how you messed up, but it also sounds like Devin needs more than just an apology from you to give things between the two of you a shot. You need to understand what happened to her, so you can try and figure out how to at least approach things."

"And she's not going to tell me. I've asked her what happened," my voice sounds defeated in my mouth.

"So you need to ask Charles."

I groan and lay back on the couch again. "You have P in speed dial right? I might need more makeup tips after this."

Max laughs and claps a hand on my uninjured shoulder. "I'll have her waiting on the other line for when you get back."