Monday, October 15th, 2018- Monte Carlo, Monaco
The Penthouse
"Max, I need to speak with you," you sit down on the end of his bed, on the side you've laid claim to in the weeks since Kaia and her sleeping hardships had resulted in the two of you, more often than not, sharing a bed with the little girl curled up between you.
This is the first time in a little over three days that you've acknowledged him, let alone addressed him directly without being forced into doing so by an otherwise unavoidable conversation, let alone said his name, but he tries not to let that go to his head just yet, since there's virtually nothing about your tone of voice that bears well for the direction in which things are heading.
"Okay?" Max continues on with the task he'd been in the midst of when you'd walked in, busy packing his things for next two weeks, since there won't be time or much point in flying back to Monaco between the end of the United States Grand Prix and the start of the Mexico Grand Prix, "what's on your mind?"
"I'm not going," you pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees as you speak.
"You're not going... to what? Exactly?" Previously, he'd been of the opinion that continuing on as he had been, as if nothing was going on, would be the best course of action because he hadn't had any particular interest in giving you his undivided attention, lest he spooks you, and the conversation came to a close before it had even had a chance, but now he's less certain.
"Austin. I'm not going to Austin- you're going alone."
"I'm sorry, I'm what?"
"You. Are. Going. Alone."
"So, you're quitting your job?" It's the only thing Max can think to say and somehow, right now, saying anything at all seems like a far wiser thing to do compared to remaining silent, but once it's out, he's far less certain.
"No!" You look like you're considering taking a swing at him but hey, at least you're fucking looking at him, which is a damn sight more than you've willingly done for days so, at this point, Max is more than willing to take whatever the hell he can get, "I'm not quitting my job! Why the fuck would I be quitting my job right now?"
"Damn, I don't know!" He knows that going on the defensive isn't likely the best strategy with which to approach the current situation but it's just instinctual, and there's little he can do to stop what's already been put in motion, "what else am I supposed to think when you walk in and suddenly announce you're not going to on a trip we're supposed to leave for in a matter of hours? How the hell do you think a proclamation like that sounds?"
"I thought a proclamation like that would sound, I don't know, like exactly how it just actually sounded? It seems pretty fucking simple to me, Max, considering the fact that it's a pretty god damn basic concept? I am not going to Austin with you, you can do it on your own like a big boy but if you need help, you can phone a friend, I'm sure Cassandra would be more than happy to help-"
"Seriously? We're back to this again?" Max stands up, throwing in the towel on trying to pack his bag and have this conversation at the same time because if you're so determined to rehash this entire debacle once again, he'll be damned if he doesn't give it his undivided attention because he won't be doing this another time, "fine, come on then, let's do this- let's have it out."
If Max was being entirely honest with himself, he'd been expecting you to dismiss him and his sudden change in demeanor out of turn, or at the very least to just brush both him and the conversation the two of you have been dancing around for days aside, exactly as you have for a fortnight but you don't.
