THE END | Oscar Piastri

53. homewrecker

Sav's pov

For the past week of our vacation in Ibiza, everything—for the most part—has been heavenly. He rented a small five room home for the two of us, which was plenty of room, but not enough for it to feel empty. And the master bedroom's balcony gave the perfect view of the sunset.

Everyone is aware of our relationship now. Not that we cared to hide it, we only want to keep it private. Everyone, including Elaine.

Elaine, who drunkenly called up Oscar three nights ago.

Three days earlier

The cleansing balm is cold against my skin as it melts away my makeup from the day. The once minty green paste turning a light shade of brown from my foundation.

The water is even colder when I wash the paste off. I use the hand towel beside me to pat my face dry, and when I look up into the mirror, Oscar is suddenly standing behind me.

I smile at him through the reflection. "Can you hand me that other cleanser?" I point to the one sitting on the bathtub. He obliges. "Why do you do that?" He asks while handing the white bottle over to me.

"Wash my face?" I ask, though knowing that isn't what he meant. "No, wash your face then wash it again." He still stands behind me, our conversation being held through the mirror.

"The first one only takes off my makeup. This one..." I take a drop into my hand. "Actually cleans my face." I explain.

He continues to watch me through the mirror while I finish washing my face. I pat my face dry once again, and see that he's still watching me. "C'mere." He doesn't hesitate to step right next to me.

I dampen his face with my hands, and then gently rub the cleanser onto his face in circles. His eyes close, and he starts laughing, a bubbly laugh that's close to a giggle. "It tickles." I smile at him.

"Open." I say simply. His eyes slowly open. He stares at me, waiting for further instruction. "You can rinse it off now." I laugh. Embarrassment colors his face under the suds.

Halfway through washing it off, his phone starts buzzing. The call comes from an unidentified number. "Osc, it's yours." I tell him, holding the hand towel out to him.

Given it's a random number, I would usually hang up, but given the possibility that it's work related, I leave it be.

He copies me, patting his face dry before picking up the phone and putting it on speaker. "'Ello?" A shuddered gasp sounds from the other side.

"Osc? Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." It takes me a second to recognize the voice. Once I do, by face drops. I could barely understand her words. Between the sobbing and the slurring, the syllables were difficult to make out. "I regret it all Oscar. I want you back. It was a stupid, drunken mistake." She hiccups through her tears. Oscar's stunned. His face has gone pale, his mouth hangs open slightly, and his eyes have widened.

I question if she knows Oscar and I are together again, and if this is a taste of my own medicine. "It never should've happened. Please Osc, please. I miss you so bad." His expression turns  into a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Are you drunk?" He spits the question out like the words physically disgust him.

It only sounds like she starts sobbing harder. But she doesn't answer his question. "Oscar, please. I still love you." He gives me an apologetic look. I don't know what it's for.

Elaine begins to babble in French, more hiccups interrupting her words. "Elaine." Oscar tires to stop her, but she continues to cry out words in French. "Elaine." He tries again, this time she stops. The loud sniffing can still be heard. "Drink some water, or coffee, get to sleep, and lose my number." His voice is eerily calm despite the evident anger staining his face.