: ̗̀➛ part three of the
one for the road series
SNOWFALL / CL16
in which two childhood friends reunite. a formula one driver wants to learn how to snowboard and it just so happens that the daughter of his mum's be...
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✧ ˚ · . CHAPTER ELEVEN . · ˚✧ I'm here in your doorway
val d'isere, winter 2023
Charles and I were slowly becoming friends again, even after his public display of possession when Liam approached me last week. Ever since, my days had taken a new spin of my usual routine: every morning, I woke up early and Charles and I would hit the slopes for two hours, before the kids would show up and we'd teach them together.
After lunch, he would say his goodbyes and I would teach my class of teenagers, and often, Lorelai would join those. Then we'd get ready for dinner, which we spent with the other guys almost daily. These days had become soft and warm, like coming home. Like intertwining two of my favourite lives into one—Lorelai on one hand, the boys on the other.
And yet there was always an aching void underneath that blanket. It always intensified whenever I caught Charles' gaze from the other side of the table, where I sat comfortably next to Arthur, opposite Lorelai, with Alfie adjacent to me. Charles always sat at the head of the table, facing Alfie. Naturally, every night I chose the seat farthest away from him, where our eyes could never meet easily. And yet, every time I slid into that seat, I was reminded of why. Why I wasn't sitting next to him, why we weren't holding hands under the table, why his presence burned like a wildfire inside of me.
Because as much as I wanted to deny it, I still wanted him. Being around him, being able to act as close to normal as possible with him during our snowboarding classes which had bled into our everyday encounters, and now all of a sudden, I was able to hold conversations with him, and he with me.
Slowly but surely, he told me more about his life. About the pressures that came with being a Formula One driver, about the way fans were incredibly obsessed with his private life to the point they would ring his doorbell, about the way he was never able to switch his mind off fully from his duties.
And slowly but surely, I opened up about my life, too. I told him about the struggles of Beaumont Interiors the first year, and my new place in Paris. I told him about Celine, who was carrying almost all my weight right now. I told him how I was finding it hard to make time to work on the Ritz project, and how I was nervous because, if this didn't work out, our business' reputation would be affected.
Life had fallen into a rhythm, one that I was annoyed to be enjoying. Having all of my favourite people in one place felt like a little slice of heaven, and yet, at the same time, I was constantly anticipating the moment it would all come crashing down.
With a sigh, I opened the locker door and shoved my tote bag into it, only taking out my towel and quickly clipping my hair up. Tonight, I had decided to take a swim after dinner. I desperately needed some alone time, and swimming was always the best way to clear my head.
