malicious | max verstappen

thirty nine.

ELYSE's POV

It was hard to move. Hard to breathe. Hard to live.

My mind keeps torturing me, replaying the moment over and over again until I've had enough. I felt grief all over again, over him, over my mom. I don't know what stimulated it, but I was suddenly shifted back to a few months ago when I lost my mother.

But maybe, it was all linked. I was always convinced that once my mom was gone, there'd be no other person like her in my life. Everything happened in a split second, my mom was gone and before I knew it Max took her place.

And I think that's when I started falling for him.

-

"What happened, chica?" Carlos wasted no time in pulling me into his apartment.

We sat down on his couch, with me bawling my eyes out on his chest. I couldn't even form a coherent sentence with how much I was hyperventilating.

"Shh, wait let me get you some tissues." He ran around the house, opening a few drawers and came back with a pack of tissues and used them to wipe away my tears.

"He— he kissed her, Carlos. I saw it with my own eyes." I sobbed, "How could he kiss her when he told me he loves me?"

"El, there's a huge difference between someone telling you they love you and showing you they love you." He pointed out, while playing with my hair which always made me calm down.

"That's the problem, C." I turned to him, "He did show me. He showed me how it felt to be loved, how to love, everything. I thought everything was fine with us, so why? Why did he do that? Was I not good enough or—"

"Stop. I don't want to hear you say this shit." He interrupted me.

I wiped my face with my sleeve, "How can I not? What could've possibly motivated him to do what he did if I wasn't— good enough."

"I told you, cariño. He is and always has been a cheater, I tried to warn you. That doesn't make you the flawed one, he is."

"It's just—" I hiccuped, "It's my first heartbreak, and I don't know how to deal with it."

"How long were you really together?"

I thought about it for a while. Then I realized he never asked me to be his girlfriend, that we were only ever dating — nothing more, nothing less.

"Not at all." I choked.

"Uh, what do you mean? You were girlfriend and boyfriend, right?" He asked with an uncertain tone.

"I– um, we never really–"

"Are you kidding, El? You're telling me he hasn't asked you to be his girlfriend after this time?" I
didn't know what to say.

"We were just dating. No labels or anything." I tried to explain, but the more I spoke the more I realized how pathetic my argument was.

Carlos took a deep breath, "Then, why are you so upset over something that never existed?"

It pained me that he was right. It pained me that when you actually think about it, what we wasn't real. Never was.

I broke down for the millionth time today, "How couldn't it have existed when it felt so real? You didn't see how he looked at me, the things he said to me— surely it wasn't fake. It couldn't be." I mostly whispered the last part to myself.

"You never know. Maybe it was part of the plan."

"God, I hate him. I fucking hate him so much." I covered my face with my hands. "I wish I never signed with Redbull, fuck."