I can't .

~5~

POV y/n: 

Fuming, I storm into Lewis' locker room and slam the door behind me.
"I hate him so much! Why does he always have to ruin everything?"

Lewis looks up, startled. "Toto?"

"Why can't I just have a normal father? One who doesn't try to control every part of my life!"

He sets down the towel in his hands and walks over. "Hey, calm down. What happened?"

I pace the room as I recount the conversation with my father—his anger, his accusations, his need to always be in control. When I finish, I look at Lewis, expecting some kind of backup.

"Why didn't you say something to him?" I ask, voice sharp. "You were right there when Carlos came by."

Lewis sighs. "Y/n... you know I care about you. You're my best friend. But this isn't something I can get involved in—not when it's on track, and especially not with your dad."

His words sting more than I expected. "Right. Of course. Stay neutral—like always."

"Y/n—"

"Forget it. I'm going to my hotel. I'll see you tomorrow."

I don't wait for a response. I march out of the paddock, my pulse still racing. As I reach the exit, the crowd of media swarming outside makes my mood ten times worse. Cameras flash, voices call out questions I have no patience for.

I glance around, suddenly realizing—I came here with Lewis. I didn't plan on leaving before him, and there are no taxis in sight.

Just great.

"Hey, y/n. Need a ride?"

I freeze at the sound of Carlos' voice. I turn, and he's already pulled up near the curb, window rolled down, that signature look of concern softened by something gentler.

Without thinking twice, I walk straight to his car and get in.

POV Carlos : 

Just as I'm about to drive off, I spot y/n standing near the exit, scanning the crowd. Despite the frustration still lingering over everything she's kept from me, I can't ignore the way she looks—lost, a little overwhelmed. I roll down the window.

"Hey, y/n. Need a ride?"

She doesn't hesitate for a second and slips into the passenger seat with a quiet "Thanks."
Then, almost immediately, "Carlos... I'm sorry. About everything today. I should've told you who I was earlier."

I glance at her, surprised she brought it up herself. "Yeah... would've saved me some trouble."
I keep my tone light, not cold. "But... what's done is done. At least now I know."

I can see in her expression she regrets not being honest. The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable—just full of the weight of what's left unsaid.

"Do you want to grab a drink?" I ask.

She hesitates. "Even after all this? You still want to?"

I give her a small smile. "Your dad doesn't scare me off that easily."

She returns it—barely, but it's there.

Back at the hotel, we walk together to the bar. It feels different this time—quieter, heavier. The easy conversation we had during our first date isn't there. I try to start a few topics, but they don't go far. She seems distracted too.

After a while, she sighs. "I think I'm gonna head to bed."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," I say, getting up. "I'll walk you up."