The Man I Love (A short stories)

OUT OF PACE

IMOLA

April 17th, 2021

I was standing in front of all the screens, nervously moving my body from one leg to another, hypnotizing those little numbers, not faster than a blink of an eye, but for all people around me, every hundredth of a second meant a win or a loss. Isn't that funny? We don't even sense this tiny measure but here, it meant success. But at this moment, it looked like we are about to lose more likely than to win and it made me honestly sick.

The time was merciless and the lap time Fernando made just a minute ago before heading back to the box, wasn't good enough to put him to Q2. And it was just unacceptable. For the team and Fernando himself.

"You are too stern to yourself, love," I said to him after he cuddled up to my arms without a single word after the alarm clock set up at 7 am woke us both.

He didn't need to say a single word but I could sense how tense he was. I knew very well what was in his mind. I knew his worries the same as his demons.

"No-one can expect that you start winning after the first race of a comeback," I added with a gentle calm voice even if I knew already that anything I was about to say would change his mind and thinking. Yes, the mind of a racer was proceeding things differently in many ways.

Again, not a single word but he hugged me even tighter. I could feel his heart beating regularly, his breath gently caressing the part of my skin where he laid his head on my chest as he was breathing calmly.

I automatically started stroking the bare skin on his back and lowered my chin a bit to be able to kiss him to his hair.

That unmistakable and seductive scent of the shampoo he was using made me bury my face in those unbelievably soft dark brown curls.

"Te amo mucho mi amor. Y no importa lo que pase," I breathed out the words of love in his mother language.

I could feel how he smiled as the day-old stubble tickled my skin. I know he always found my tries to speak Spanish cute and funny as my accent was not good yet but it doesn't matter. He feels the message. He must feel my love I was having for him as I never loved anybody that much in my entire life.

"Solo quiero que estés orgullosa de mi," he said not even moving from his position.

I didn't even expect that as he loves when I stroke his back. He could stay like that for hours without a blink of an eye.

"I already am proud of you, mi cariňo."

As I was fully in my thoughts, also trying to keep my hands warm as rubbing them, my heart skipped a beat when I heard in a huge headset I was wearing on, to be able to know what was happening, that Fernando needs to go out again as the time is not good enough.

One of the screens with coverage of F1 TV showed all the mechanics in the front of the garage putting Fernando's car down. Just a few mechanics holding all the blankets on the tires to keep them warm as long as possible.

They let him go for another lap in a few seconds. I looked at the screen with live timing data at the moment Alain Prost stood next to me. He was a team adviser, keeping his knowing eyes on everything that was happening.

"You can sit down, sweetheart," he smiled at me pointing on the high chair in front of me.

Well, at least I think he did as we were wearing those horrible masks I hated the most. I just shook my head.

"Thank you, but I'd freeze if I stop moving," I answered trying to cover up my nervousness.

But I wasn't lying. Today it was around 8 celsius here in Imola and I still wasn't able to warm myself up even if I was wrapped in a chunky sweater and wearing Fernando's team jacket on top. I probably had to look really funny in my crazy not matching outfit as I was also wearing one of his Kimoa beanie hats. Yes, me, who never wear any kind of caps. This cold it was outside.