Wednesday, September 5th- Monte Carlo, Monaco
Max's Apartment
Five More Days
He hadn't been expecting for the house to feel quieter when he woke up this morning, but it had, like somehow even though there had only been two days between getting home from the Italian Grand Prix and your flight out of Nice at 9 pm Tuesday night, you'd managed to make an impact on the apartment.
It was easy to tell that Kaia already missed you and it had been only slightly more complicated from there for Max to figure out that he did too.
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Thursday, September 6th- Monte Carlo, Monaco
Four More Days
In all reality, Max was entirely aware that you had only been gone for two days, he knew that not just because he understood basic math but because he'd also spent enough time staring at the calendar that you'd put up on the refrigerator in his kitchen before you'd left- though he had no idea where it had come from and you hadn't had the time to order it, so he could only assumed this meant you'd just had a wall sized calendar on hand- that he was wholly convinced that the month of September was now permanently etched into his brain.
Max knew objectively you left Tuesday and today was Thursday, and he understood that it had been a standard weekend's worth of hours since you'd flown back to England to pack up your flat and tie up whatever loose ends you had there, but the thing is, if you were to ask Max and he were to be completely honest with you, he would have no choice but to admit that it felt like you had been gone for an eternity.
And actually, he wasn't even embarrassed to admit, well he was a little embarrassed about it and had only just started admitting it to himself but whatever, that's hardly the point, because regardless of his pride or what marginal sense of shame he still had, Max couldn't bring himself to deny the truth flat out- he wanted you to be back in Monaco and he wanted you to be back now.
Because, unmistakably, he loved Kaia very much, but he was also halfway convinced he was losing his goddamn mind here with only a two-year-old for company.
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Friday, September 7th- Monte Carlo, Monaco
Three More Days
Things have devolved to the point that now, under the guise of helping Kaia understand how long you'd been away and when you'd be back, Max had turned the first two weeks of September on the kitchen calendar into a countdown till your return, and at present, he was beginning to get convinced that crossing out each day right before his daughter's bedtime was the only thing tethering him to reality.
To add insult to injury, Max had been sat on the sofa in his living room, having intended to play a video game to get his mind off things, as he'd done for as long as he can remember, only to have the sudden realization halfway through getting himself situated to settle in and play until he fell asleep or the sun came up, just how fucking loud his gaming system actually was.
He'd immediately turned it off, cutting the tv out in the seconds follow, having quickly ruled out the option of watching something instead, his fear of waking Kaia vastly outweighing his boredom and serving only to further undermine his resolve to not bother you once for the entirety of the week you'd be away.
For lack of anything better to do, Max found himself resorting back to a habit he'd had since childhood, one that he couldn't particularly remember starting but which he simultaneously couldn't really recall a time where he hadn't done it.
