Madrid English Version

Chapter 19

Carlos returned home with a gift: a migraine. A headache from going over and over his sister's every word: "you're in love", it was impossible, a masquerade, a joke. He was convinced she'd played a trick on him by saying that. Yet deep down, the Spaniard felt that part of him wanted to believe her.

To believe that he was in love.

To believe that he, in turn, would find his better half. The person who could understand him better than he could.

To believe that he could be happy.

For Carlos, it brought only doubts and long reflections, rehashing every interaction he'd had with his neighbor.

----

At the same hour, over fifteen thousand kilometers away, Aria set foot in what would be her home for the next twenty-four hours, before arriving in her native land. A day later, after a stopover on Arabian soil, the brunette was finally in the city she cherished so much, Madrid. With her suitcase in hand, she hurried into a cab to get home as soon as possible. Of course, the cab ride seemed much quicker than the journey from the southern lands to Spain.

When Aria heard her door slam, she knew she was home at last. She opened her suitcase in the middle of her apartment, took out her shoes and put them away, and started a washing machine with her dirty clothes... However, in the middle of putting things away, the Spaniard felt her stomach wake up. She was hungry, and she had an empty fridge.

The brunette grabbed her purse, keys, headphones and wallet and headed outside, starting up her playlist, composed mainly of songs by the Swedish band ABBA. She adored this group, and each of their songs brought a smile to her face, and made her want to dance and sing at the top of her lungs to each of their masterpieces.

The engineer only took food for tonight and tomorrow morning, to come back when she wasn't hungry, knowing full well that it's not advisable to shop when you're hungry. She bought two tins of instant noodles for tonight, and for another evening in case of emergency, and bread and milk for breakfast.

----

W

ith the music still blaring in her ears, Aria quietly made her way home, thinking about the noodles she was about to enjoy, a dish she particularly savored, especially thanks to the length of time it took to prepare.

Confusion overcame her as the elevator doors to the third floor opened, while she lightly danced and lip-synched to the music she was listening to, to find herself face to face with her parents, who looked at her in amazement. Her first instinct was to remove her headphones and put them back in their box, before greeting her parents.

- What are you doing here on a Monday night at ten o'clock at my place? she asked, confused by their presence.

- And you, what were you doing out at that hour, making a spectacle of yourself, in an elevator, with a bag full of junk food? He replied, disdainfully, looking his daughter up and down, before turning his attention to the white plastic, which revealed the young woman's dinner.

- I went to buy dinner, because I just got back from Sidney, and my cupboards were empty. You still haven't answered my question.

- We'll let you know when you let us in, unless you want your mother and me to wait while you tidy up your apartment, which must be a mess.

- Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something, confessed her mother, we wanted to know if, even before her mother could finish her sentence, her husband cut her off.

- We wanted to know if you'd found anyone. said her father.

Carlos, who had heard the noise at the start of their conversation, had moved closer to the door and opened it slightly, so as to listen in without being seen.

He'd been right.

Lando had been right.

The young brunette's father was behaving like an ungrateful boss behaves with his employees. Not like a father behaves with his daughter. At the sound of this fateful question, the pilot opened the door, so as not to give Aria time to reply:

- Ah, Cariña, you're back, I was beginning to worry. What did you get us? interjected the pilot, making an interruption in the building's corridor. Seeing that the engineer wasn't responding, Carlos took the bag in hand and looked at its contents. Great, you got us noodles and breakfast for tomorrow. Thank you very much, Carlos.

- Aria, who is this young man?

- Oh, you must be Mr. Torani, your daughter has told me all about you. It's a pleasure to meet you. Says the pilot, who didn't mean a word of what he'd just said, extending his arm to shake her hand.

- You must know each other well if my daughter has told you anything about me, good things I hope?

- Of course, I've heard nothing but compliments about you, lied the pilot once again. Truth be told, she'd never spoken of him, and what he'd heard was certainly not praise. Perhaps you'd like to come in?

- No, no, we don't want to disturb you. It must be a long time since you've had any romantic time together. I didn't think you'd find someone so quickly, Aria. I see my little threat worked. I should have used that as a method when you were a kid. I hope to see you soon at a family meal who knows, Mr....

- Sainz. Carlos Sainz.

- See you soon, Mr. Sainz. Says the forty-year-old, before greeting his daughter and leaving with his wife.

- Thank you, sincerely thank you. she says, turning to the driver.

- You're welcome, Cariña. To the Spaniard's astonishment, she didn't remark on the nickname he'd just used to get her off the hook.

- Damn, I forgot the Nutella! remarked the brunette as she headed for the elevator, followed by her neighbor. What are you up to?

- I'm not going to let you go out alone at this hour, and I doubt Mr. Torani would appreciate it if I left his daughter out alone at night. He replied, stepping up beside the engineer just before the elevator doors closed, under Carlos's tense gaze.

The elevator had just started up, and just as it was about to cross the second floor, it stopped dead in its tracks between the two floors, and the white light in the cabin was transformed into a much less powerful red light. As he came to a halt, the two Spaniards felt a jolt, triggering a tremor in the pilot's entire body, and he quickly let himself slide against the wall before hitting the floor, pulling up his knees and burying his head between his arms, resting on his knees.

He knew this situation all too well.

Far too well.

All this under the gaze of the brunette, who didn't understand the situation until a few seconds later.

Carlos Sainz, a Formula One driver with Ferrari, was claustrophobic.

Carlos Sainz was afraid of being locked up.

Carlos was terrified of dark, enclosed spaces.

Calo wasafraid and needed help. He needed her help