Hate You - LN

8

Dev still smelled like the same flowery perfume I bought her four years ago. I'd assumed she'd thrown it out, but I guess she'd replaced it instead. She always said she didn't know how to be super girly, then ended up hating it. She hated talking about hair, nails, outfits. She always blamed it on growing up with the Leclercs, all the testosterone influenced her ability to 'be super girly'. I always saw through the lie though. She liked getting flowers and lived in sundresses in the hottest months. I'd gifted her the perfume without saying anything one day, just left it on our, my, bathroom counter while we were practically living together through the pandemic.

She still fucking wore it. 

My foot was torn between speeding to the track and taking things slow because my mind couldn't decide whether it wanted her out of it. Or let her back in. She looks beautiful, the same way I remember. If not more so now. We'd both grown up in four years it seems. Her hair was much longer, but still that same dark brown. But she'd lost some weight, and it didn't look entirely healthy being as she was always pretty skinny. She looked hollow, more guarded. Like something was keeping her up at night if last night was any proof. I'd known this morning that if I had pressed her more on the issue she would've shut me out. I wasn't an idiot. It hurt to think that might be because of me. But on the other hand, I shouldn't care. She chose to leave. She chose to hurt me. I shouldn't feel bad for her, or feel any kind of guilt.

But fuck, I do.

I still hated her and had every right to for walking out on me without any explanation four years ago. If she had even lied to me and told me a shit reason like she was married or something corny like those romance movies I would've at least had something to blame. But no. I was instead left to question everything about myself. She left because of me. I did something wrong, I messed up somehow.

Her leaving is the very reason I haven't tried to date anyone since. Sure there have been hookups, just meaningless sex. But how could I trust myself to not make another person walk out on me? I can't let myself fall for someone like that in a way that lets me get hurt again. I won't do that to myself.

I considered after she walked out, in the first month or so when she ghosted me that I would stop racing. Or at least call it off for a year. It's not like a year's probation would work in Formula One. I wanted to find her, track her down and ask why. Beg her to stay with me, even if it wasn't as a partner, but as a friend. Her leaving almost destroyed me. Almost destroyed the career I love and have worked for my entire life.

And then I went and crashed last year anyway and almost destroyed my career myself. I tried initially to blame it on her. I'd been thinking about her, after seeing her help out one of my mechanics before the race. She was wearing Aston Martin green. I hadn't even known she worked in the paddock until then. I thought about her the whole race. And when Sergio tried one of his dirty moves, I was out of it. My reaction time was slow as shit and we crashed. As much as I wanted to blame her for that though, I knew I couldn't.

If the impact had hit me a millimetre more directly, my shoulder would've torn. Or at least that's what the millions it seems, doctors, I've seen since. Her on my mind and her body close to me was a deadly combination. And now, she's forced to fix the damn shoulder I almost destroyed. She has to be here, all year, touching me, even if it's painful and for the best. I have to be around her constantly. How in the absolute fuck am I supposed to keep her off my mind so I don't crash again.

How do I stop hating her, stop hating myself for the day she walked out?

I pulled the car out of the underground parking, sunlight crept through the front window and I lowered my sunglasses over my eyes. In the last four months, it's become a habit for me to drive solely with my right arm. Knowing Dev was probably watching how I moved around my shoulder I made sure to drive equally with both hands.