* * *
The next few days are bleak. They pass in a blur of misery and hard work as we gear up for the final three races of the season. I’m barely sleeping, and by the time Friday rolls around, I’m no use to anyone. I think I should fake being sick for the good of the team.
Of course, I have a day full of meetings, the first half just with Ian, reviewing footage, and then with some of the senior strategists. I could really do with a fully working brain today, except it’s basically running on autopilot and as much caffeine I can fuel it with through energy drinks.
‘Are you even listening?’ Ian grunts out, banging his stack of notes against the table to straighten the pages.
‘What?’ I ask, not even sure what he was asking in the first place.
‘Well, that answers my question. You look like shit.’
‘Thanks, man. Kick a guy when he’s down, why don’t you.’ I’m really not in the mood for Ian to be an asshole right now.
‘What’s going on?’ he asks.
He’s the last person I want to tell, but all my other friends are first and foremost Johannes’s friends. I can’t exactly call my parents when I never told them we were dating in the first place. So why not Ian?
‘Johannes and I broke up.’ There it is. Those five words that I really didn’t want to say. I mean we haven’t even officially broken up. I just told him to go fuck himself and then spent the next two days ignoring all his calls and messages, so it was as good as a break-up.
Ian hardly even bats an eyelid. ‘Oh boy, I knew it had to be him, but I didn’t think it would be this fast.’
‘Yeah, well, rub it in why don’t you. You were right. We got together and then it ended badly. Proved your point, didn’t I.’ Every word is a bitter mess. I hate that this is exactly what he warned me about. I hate more that I didn’t listen and that I actually thought Ian was being a dick.
‘This is exactly what I warned you about.’ Ian sighs, pulling his glasses off to rub at the bridge of his nose. ‘I could see it happening over the summer. You started looking at him differently and then you started hanging out with him, even flirting on the radio like idiots and now you’re moping over him– and you still have to work with him. It’s ridiculous.’
‘Wow, thanks, man. Really appreciate it. I’m talking to you because I trust you and I’ve always admired the work you’ve done in this sport.’ Or because I have no one else to talk to, and I at least don’t think Ian will report me. Lecture me about being an idiot, sure, but I don’t think he’ll go running to Nathan telling him everything. He has nothing to gain from that, and the team needs Johannes and me to work together for the last few races for Johannes to have any chance of still bringing home the Driver’s Championship.
‘I’m just being honest with you. I’m not about to sugarcoat the fallout that could come from this. Plus, it’ll be your job on the chopping block, not his. He could actually win this whole thing, so they’ll never sacrifice him. You’ll be wheeled quietly out the back door and for what?’
For him.It’s idiotic to even still be thinking that it would be worth it when I’ve had to witness him breaking down and losing his damn mind over another guy. Someone he was with foryears. Jackson Calder. Not in a million years did I see that coming.
I’d never have even guessed in my wildest dreams. But looking back now at how Johannes has been this season, especially in the second half, it’s clear he was heartbroken. I hate that that’s what Jackson did to him, and I hate that I feel sorry for him even now, when it’s me that’s heartbroken.
It’s so easy to love Johannes Müller. He’s fun, and playful but determined, and he has the kind of drive that any of the other racers would kill for. He’s also caring and gentle, and when you’re with him you can’t help but feel cherished and safe. I already miss being wrapped up in his arms and it’s only been two days. How pathetic is that?
‘Well, it doesn’t matter now, because it’s over. And the season will be done in three races’ time and I’m sure after winter break it’ll all be forgotten about.’ Maybe Johannes and Jackson will give it another shot. Maybe Jackson will poach him for Hendersohm. Elijah’s getting on in age, and with two kids and one on the way, I’m sure he’ll be wanting to spend more time at home.
That thought messes me up through every meeting of the day and then keeps me up most of the night.
* * *
When it’s time for free practice one, I can’t even look at Johannes. I feel his presence the second he comes into the garage. Every single hair on my body stands on end and my mouth goes dry, and that’s before I turn around to get a look at him.
He looks like shit. Stubble on his chin, puffy eyes, no smile. He’s courteous to the team and everyone around him, but his spark isn’t there. It’s like we’re back on that beach in Zandvoort, or on the plane after Silverstone and he’s a broken shell again. Then it was Jackson Calder’s fault, but this time he bears his share of responsibility. He should havetoldme. And now it’s up to me to coax a dazzling performance out of him or my head’s on the chopping block. I can’t help but be taken back to that alleyway, the thick and fast tears pouring from his eyes as he recalls to Harper how Johannes broke his heart. Their two-and-a-half-year relationship. All of that hurt, poured out into that alleyway.
‘Morning,’ he says as he approaches me and I grip my tablet to the point that it’s causing indents in my hand. ‘Can we, uh, talk before I have to go warm up?’
I shake my head, not trusting my words right now. If I speak, I’m either going to say something I regret or I’m going to tell him everything will be okay and haul him into my arms. And neither approach will solve any of my problems.
‘Please,’ he begs and at least he has the dignity and respect to do it quietly.
‘I can’t, Johannes. Not here, not right now. Can we just get the race weekend out of the way and then we’ll talk?’
He deserves a chance to explain himself and I need to understand why this has all collapsed so spectacularly.
He sighs before resigning himself to the fact that I’m not going to give him any more than that. ‘Okay, yeah. Thank you. Straight after the race, though, we’ll talk in private. I have so much I need to say and I just, uh, I miss you, Caleb.’
My heart shatters on the spot, because I miss him way more than I’ll ever admit.
