Driven by Destiny: A Max Verstappen Story

Chapter 2: Harsh Reality

Thirty Days Later

ROSE'S POV

I had done it. I finished rehab. It had been frustrating, and draining, and almost every day I had wanted to quit. But I had done it, and I knew it was the best thing I had ever done.

Because as hard as it was, it was necessary.

My dad was right. I was out of control. I was grieving my mother, and instead of facing life without her, I'd been numbing it with drugs and alcohol.

Because when I was sober, every moment of the day hurt.

My mom had been my best friend. She always answered the phone when I called and needed to vent. She sent me take away when she knew I'd be studying late. She was there every time I had ever needed her. And life had never felt so unfair now that she was gone.

Rehab had taught me a harsh reality, but one I needed to face: life was unfair, but that didn't mean I could stop living it. And my dad's words in the hospital, asking me what my mother would think of what my life had become, had struck a chord.

My mom had given up everything for me, and to give up on myself was more of an insult to her memory than anything.

And so, I had put in the work.

I suffered through the withdrawals. I went to every counselling session and for walks every morning. I cried every day. Multiple times a day. But I had done it, and while I knew I still had so much more work to do, I felt ready to face it. Even if it still hurt so bad. 

It had been a week since my dad picked me up from the center, bringing me back to Monaco to live with him and Susie. I still wasn't sure this was what I wanted, but my counsellor agreed with my dad that I needed a steady support system, and we all knew that London couldn't offer me that any more. Not one of my friends that I had been out with that night had reached out to me, and it was clear that they'd never really been my friends at all.

So, I'd moved into the Wolff penthouse. It was arguably nicer than my apartment in central London, with a view of the harbor and tons of natural light, but I couldn't help feeling the tension in every room. It had been years since I'd spent an extended amount of time in Monaco and that was very intentional on my part.

My relationship with my dad had never been great. He and my mom had met when they were too young, and I was never in the plan. My dad had still been racing when I was born, and so my mom had shouldered the burden of raising me. Not that my dad didn't love me, but his career made it impossible for him to spend any significant time with me. I'd see him on my birthday, if there wasn't a race, and on holidays. Every year my mom would send me to stay with him for a week, but we'd never been close.

It was one of the many reasons it had felt so unfair to lose the parent that had always been my rock.

"How was your walk to the beach?" a voice broke me out of my thoughts, and I sighed deeply, knowing exactly who it was. My stepmother, Susie Wolff.

My dad had introduced me to Susie a grand total of once before he informed me, they would be getting married. I was twelve at the time and hadn't spoken to him for a year after. Since then, my relationship with my stepmother had been cordial at best and it wasn't until my brother had been born that I'd spent any real time with her at all.

My dad wanted nothing more than for us to be a "happy" family. I just wanted to be left alone.

"It was fine," I replied to her as she settled on one of the chairs across from my spot on the couch. I held back from audibly sighing as it seemed she was intent on staying.