I KNOW PLACES | George Russell

34. grieving for the living

Hungary
Thrusday

Ariella's pov

I really want to punch whoever coordinated these conference groups.

George and I were placed in the same conference, which hasn't happened since Miami. Such irony that it manages to happen after I've managed to shatter the both of us.

He's sat on the other end of the couch, thankfully. I can feel his eyes on me occasionally, but I don't dare to look back. His green eyes will undoubtedly reflect his fractured heart, and I can't bring myself to be able to handle that.

He's also texted me a few times since I left his flat. None of the messages I answered.

George

Thursday 13/7

-How are you?
-Please can we just talk about this?

Friday 14/7

-Ariella answer please I just want to know you're alright.

Saturday 15/7

-Saw your tweet. Good to know you're alive.

Sunday 16/7

-Please just answer me

The interviewer directs a question at me, which drags me off the train of thought. "Ariella, it's good to see you back. Good to see you have a free arm." The interviewer jokes and light chuckles fall off my lips. "Yeah it's good to be back. Good to have two working arms again too." I joke back with a smile. The other drivers in conference with me laugh along.

"This being your first week back, how do you think you'll do?" I think of an appropriate response for a moment, truthfully I think I'm going to severely underperform. "Well, as you said it is my first week back in... 3 races? So obviously it'll be a little tricky, the sport is entirely unpredictable, but I'm optimistic." A total lie but who's gonna know?

It wasn't long after that interaction when we are released and able to go on our separate ways. I planned to go make another cup of coffee back in the motorhome, but a hand on my upper arm stops me from going any further down the paddock.

I turn quickly to the culprit, only to be faced with the very green eyes I had been avoiding for the past hour. His eyes are sunken in slightly, which could go easily unnoticed by anyone else. It's possibly a result from a lack of sleep, and guilt washes over me as I come to the conclusion that I'm most likely the cause.

"I know we're not together anymore, but please don't ignore me. Can't we still be friends?" His eyebrows are twisted and eyes soft, the expression is pleading for me to agree with his offer.

I look down at my shoes, unable to look at his face anymore. He looks so pained and I can't swallow the fact I'm the one who caused it. I force myself to shake my head, ultimately letting the both of us down as I do so.

I so wanted to accept it, but really it's not possible. "It'll be too difficult. You know it too." I try to meet his eyes but it's impossible for me to do so. It brings me more pain that I care to admit, so instead my eyes wonder around the paddock.

"I don't care how difficult it'll be. I'll still be able to talk to you regularly." For some reason, this comment ignites a flame of fury inside me. Maybe it's because he was only thinking of himself.

My brows furrow as my gaze moves quickly back to his eyes, somehow momentarily forgetting why I was actively avoiding his direct gaze. "You know a relationship is two sided, right?" He looks confused at my comment, which is infused with those fires of fury.