Jolie Nana - [Pierre Gasly]

Veintínueve

Time slowly passed by while Pierre was in Jeddah and then flew to Abu Dhabi for the last race of the season. He remained in Dubai meanwhile, for obvious reasons, to not fly back and forth and to stay acclimatized to the humid weather in the desert. Pierre felt tired, he was glad the winterbreak was nearing, and the feeling that Farah might leave was gnawing at his mind with each step he took. They called nearly every day, and he could see the dark circles under her eyes, sometimes her eyes were bloodshot and swollen when she picked up the phone. She was stressed, but Pierre didn't push the subject of her leaving Milan on her. It was already a difficult decision, which he couldn't make for her. He had told Pyry about it, as his trainer noticed there was something on his mind all the time. Pyry had listened quietly while Pierre told about how he felt if she would leave, and that this was something that they could have seen coming months ago, but both of them ignored it. Farah and Pierre had cut off the conversation multiple times when she started about the end of her semester here, not wanting to worry about it at the moment. But the end of the semester came closer and closer.

Pierre's previous relationships had been long distance, and it hadn't been a problem for him, but for his ex-girlfriends. His personal life is just very complicated, and he's away from home so many weeks of the year. His ex lived in Bologna, not far from Milan, and that was already difficult. New York is in another continent, and the timezones, her schedule, his schedule, it probably wasn't going to work out. It made him feel sad, frustrated, because he felt like Farah was the one who easily went along with his schedule, who understood that he was away from home and that she couldn't always join, and that he sometimes didn't have the time to come back to her between the races. Pyry hadn't said much, but he understood what the Alpha Tauri driver went through. It's Farah's choice, her study, her future, and Pierre didn't want to interfere with that, like he expected her to accept the choices he made regarding his career. Jeddah was a good weekend for them, as Pierre felt at ease in his car on the street circuit. The car was fast, and he felt fit, which resulted in a P6.

The team was mainly focussing on getting both cars in the point to really make that difference in the constructors' championship, but unfortunately Yuki was stuck in the back and crossed the finish line with a P14. There was a lot to analyze ahead of the last grand prix of the season, and it would require some work and effort before it was time to celebrate and go back home. The championship was tensing to its maximum, as the Grand Prix of Jeddah didn't go very smoothly between the two title contenders. Pierre didn't have an opinion on that. He supported both drivers and their amazing skills, and he cared about Alpha Tauri's position and his position in the championship. During his time in Dubai between the races, Pierre and Pyry focussed on Pierre's mental and physical well-being, which helped him to keep his mind on the goal ahead. Farah still called, which he was happy about, and her mood seemed to have improved, but they didn't talk about her leaving at all. He'd see if she'd still be there if he came back. Parting from each other broke both of their hearts, but if they wanted to, they'd find a way, for everything.

It caused Pierre to head into the weekend with mixed feelings, as he didn't know who would be waiting for him at home. A part of him wanted the race weekend to be very long, another part wished it was over within the blink of an eye, so he could go back to Milan right away. Yuki was in the post-season test anyway. While both drivers were hesitant about the last weekend of the season, their weekend turned out to be excellent. With a P4 and a P5, they got a lot of points, delivering them a P6 in the constructors' championship. Their aim was to beat Alpine, which unfortunately didn't happen, but the gap between the two teams was only 13 points. Max Verstappen had invited him to a party, and as every driver went to party, he decided to go as well. Maybe it was good to shake off the stress before going home, or Pierre just wanted to forget that Farah would leave him soon, and that it would take so long before he'd see her again. Nobody asked the reason why he was totally drunk at the end of the night, stumbling back to his hotel room. He sat on the edge of his bed, taking his shoes off, and took his phone in his hand.

His texts were sent to Farah, telling how much he loved her, before he went out like a light and slept till the afternoon of tomorrow.

Pierre flew home that evening, after packing everything and saying goodbye to his team, who would still be at the Yas Marina circuit for the post-season Pirelli test. He had a flight to catch to Milan. Pyry stayed in Dubai for a couple of weeks, and the two parted ways. Pyry didn't say anything about Farah, but Pierre didn't have to explain that she was on his mind. He was glad his personal life didn't make him lose focus in Abu Dhabi, because the result was stunning, and he couldn't wait to discuss the last two weekends with Farah. There was this feeling in his gut, along with the little voice in his head that told him that she wouldn't be waiting for him in Milan. It continued to gnaw at him throughout the entire flight, the movie playing wasn't interesting, the food that was served seemed to be tasteless. She had texted him back this morning, telling him she hoped he had fun on the after parties and that she loved him too, which soothed his feelings a little, and that her profile picture on WhatsApp was still a picture of them together at the Qatar Grand Prix.

The plane didn't touch the ground fast enough, the people didn't move out of the aircraft fast enough. He nearly felt out of breath when he reached his car, getting in to drive home. The longer he spent in traffic, the more sure he felt that she had left Milan already. Pierre chewed the dry pieces of skin off his lips, turning his car towards the exit of the autostrada. He neared his apartment building and parked the car in the garage underneath it. He felt his heart beating in the back of his throat, and he took a deep breath while swinging his bag over his shoulder, and he dragged his suitcase behind him. The elevator passed the floors till he reached the top floor. He walked past his own door right away, moving to Farah's apartment. He knocked on her door. "Farah?" Pierre spoke, knocking again. The door didn't open. He turned the handle down. The door was locked. Pierre turned around to get to his own apartment, twisting the key in the lock to open the door and get inside. "Farah?" he tried again, but there was no response. He dropped the handle of his suitcase and left his backpack at the door.

There was a piece of paper on the kitchen island, the pen still next to it on the marble. Pierre moved towards it, picking it up. She had written him a letter.

My dearest Pierre,

There are no words to describe how we both must feel at this very moment. I couldn't get myself to tell you on the phone, I didn't want to ruin your weekend, as you raced so well. You can already guess that I made the choice to go back to New York, it is probably best for me to finish my study there. I'm scared to make this choice, but you know what's it like to long for home. I couldn't make this choice with you here, I wouldn't be able to think rationally, because I would always want to stay with you. Please, don't wait for me. Don't wait till I come back, you should focus on your career and whatever comes on your path.

Pierre feels his eyes getting watery, and he blinked against the tears. Farah seemed to have cried while writing the letter too, the dried up teardrops visible on the paper and slightly blurring the letters of some words.

Let's give us both some time to give it all a place in our lives, but I want you to know that you can always call me, and I hope that we can still have contact, maybe see each other again in summer. All sorts of doubts run through me now, but my flight to New York is leaving in five hours and I need to get to the airport now. Thank you for everything, Pierre. It were probably the best six months of my life, which I will never forget. I will continue to support you, wherever you go. I love you.

Farah.

Pierre attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, but he didn't manage to do so. He rubbed his forehead as he leaned his elbows on the marble of the kitchen surface. The fact that she had written it all down made it hit him extra hard. It felt like a last goodbye, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to call her anytime soon. His previous relationships hadn't been as special as this one, no other girl had been like Farah, and it was all slipping through his fingers now. His fingers glided over the paper she had written on, briefly twirling the pen between his fingers before he dropped it again. Pierre sat down on the couch, his head resting back against the cushions as he stared up at the ceiling. He was supposed to be happy, celebrate the great results of the season, but instead he's alone in Milan, heartbroken. He chuckled at his dramatic thoughts, but that was just how he felt. Fate had brought them together before, and he hoped that fate would bring them together once more.