“You didn’t answer your phone,” Georgia called out.
Somehow, the emergency spare key had turned into her barging in whenever she felt like it.Her shoes clicked once on the wood and then went quiet.Her reflection appeared on my screen.
“I can hear you yelling from the hallway.You know you’re not actually in the car, right?”
“Feels close enough.”And then I hit the wall.Virtually, but it still felt personal.The sound cut off in a hiss, and I shifted into neutral.
“Nice,” she said dryly.“You planning to do that on Sunday too?”
I didn’t turn around.“If you came here to lecture me, don’t.I’ve had enough for one day.”
“I came because you’re trending online,” she said, not unkindly, “and trending because of relationship drama is sort of my area of expertise.”
I rolled my eyes at the reference to her own very public relationship drama she and Luca had experienced a few years ago.Although, in this scenario, our positions were reversed.There would be no PR relationship for me and Lily.As far as our teams were concerned, they’d rather the other person not exist.
“I’m fine.”The same words I couldn’t stop saying.
“So you’ve said.”Her eyes met mine for a brief moment before I looked back at the screen.
“They had the nerve to ask me if I’ve been unfocused because of her.”
“Well, are you?I mean, if I’m being honest, Henri, I always thought you and Lily might have ended up togeth—”
“No.”The word came too fast, and I exhaled, feeling exposed.“It’s this championship fight.We’re only a third of the way through, and it’s already brutal.”
Georgia didn’t look convinced.I reached for the track restart button—anything to end the conversation—but she caught my wrist midair.“Something’s off.You don’t have to tell the whole paddock, but you can tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean youwon’t.”
I looked away, watching the monitor go idle.“It doesn’t matter.It’s my race.I’ll fix it.”
Georgia had no intention of backing down.“You’ve been off all season.You snap at everyone.You barely sleep.You drive like you’re on a razor’s edge.”
“I’m preparing,” I said, too quickly.
“For what?A nervous breakdown?”
“For myhome race!”Frustration leaked into my voice.
“I think you’re doing that thing you always do.”Her voice softened.“You get backed into a corner, and instead of asking for help you convince yourself everyone else is the problem.”
I bit down on a bitter laugh.“Did you rehearse that?”
“Only since birth.”She moved closer, deliberately blocking part of the computer monitor.“You think staying silent makes you strong.”
“And you think talking fixes everything.”
“Not everything,” she said quietly.“But it’s a start.”
I reached for the wheel again.
“You’re burning yourself out.You keep pretending the problem is outside the car when”—she pointed to me—“it’s sitting right here.”
“Enough, Georgia.”I jumped out of the seat, grabbing my water from the cup holder next to me.
“D‘accord, I’ll stop asking.For now.But if you crash again because of whatever this is, we’re having a serious conversation about this.”Then she stepped toward the kitchen, flicking on a light.“You’ve eaten, right?”
