I can't .

~18~

POV Carlos:

After the chaos of the morning, I find myself heading to lunch with Charles and Lando. I'm doing my best to keep things light, but I know they've both picked up on my mood.

"So, tell us, Carlos," Lando grins, that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Did you have a good night?"

I smirk, keeping my cool. "You don't need to know everything, Lando."

Charles chuckles beside him. "That smile says more than enough."

I wave his comment off, focusing on the buffet for a moment, trying to distract myself with food—though I can still feel their curiosity buzzing like static beside me.

We settle at a table, and my eyes instinctively scan the room. That's when I spot her—y/n—sitting in the back with Lewis and George. George looks like hell. Slouched posture, pale face. No doubt still nursing whatever happened between them.

But my eyes find hers. For a brief second, everything else fades. She smiles—soft, subtle—and gestures toward her phone. I slip mine out of my pocket and see her message waiting.

I shoot a quick reply, careful to angle the screen away before Lando gets any ideas.

"Come on, man," he presses. "Don't be so cryptic. What happened between you and y/n?"

"Nothing happened," I reply smoothly, though my smirk probably gives me away. "And if something did, I'm not telling you here, at the table."

Charles leans in, amused. "Then when will you tell us?"

"You'll see... once it's official."

The words leave my mouth faster than I mean them to, and suddenly I'm lost in thought again. Once it's official. There's still so much hanging in the air. Questions I haven't asked her yet—about where she stands with her father, how deep the damage from this morning really runs. Toto was furious, damn near ready to fire her, and that's not something I can ignore.

And then there's Lewis.

Their connection—it's obvious. The way he looks at her, the way he held her earlier this morning when she cried. It gnaws at me, even if I try not to show it. I can see it in him: he wants more. And that doesn't sit well with me.

I glance back at y/n. She's laughing at something George said, but the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. I know she's still hurting, and it kills me that I can't fix it all right now. But I will.

Or at least, I'll try.

POV y/n:

Guilt weighs heavy on my chest as I glance over at George. He hasn't looked like himself since yesterday—slumped shoulders, quiet demeanor, eyes that seem distant. I try to talk to him, to check in, but he barely responds.

When Lewis gets up to clear away a few things, I finally gather the courage to speak. My voice is soft. "Georgie, how are you really feeling?"

His eyes meet mine, glassy and tired. "Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, of course."

He exhales shakily, a vulnerability flashing across his face. "Like I told you earlier... I was really starting to fall for you. You were kind to me, gentle, and even though I knew it was all fake, somewhere along the way it stopped feeling that way. I started loving you."

A tear slips down his cheek. He wipes it away quickly, almost angrily. My instinct is to reach for his hand, but he pulls back.

"It's better if you don't touch me anymore."

"George, please—"

But I don't get the chance to finish. Lewis returns, and the moment breaks. We stand to leave. Before I walk out, I catch Carlos' eyes across the room. There's something unspoken in his expression. He knows. And that only adds to the whirlwind inside me.

Facing my father again is the last thing I want to do, but I know it's inevitable. After our confrontation this morning, I can feel that he's not finished with me yet. Lewis and I walk together toward Toto's office—he wants to present something he's been working on, and it involves me too.

As we enter, the air shifts. I feel my father's gaze on me like a weight pressing down. I slide into a chair at the long conference table, trying to steel myself while Lewis begins his presentation. He explains his strategy, confident and precise, detailing how we might turn around the string of bad results.

Toto listens, nodding occasionally, arms folded. When Lewis finishes, he turns to me.

"Do you understand everything?"

I nod, quickly. "Yes."

"Good. Then let's try it. Thank you, Lewis. You can go."

I rise, thinking it's over, but the sharp change in my father's tone stops me.

"I said Lewis can go. We're not done, y/n."

Reluctantly, I sit back down, glancing briefly at Lewis as he hesitates by the door before stepping out. The silence that follows is cold.

And then the lecture begins again.

Toto brings up everything he's heard—rumors in the corridors, whispers about me and George. His voice is sharp, controlled, but I can feel the judgment underneath every word. And every time George's name is mentioned, I flinch inwardly.

I do feel guilty. I want to make things right with him, but how can I if he won't even speak to me? And how do I navigate this when we're both on the same team?

For a fleeting moment, the thought crosses my mind—maybe I should leave. I know Alpine and Alfa Romeo are still hiring. I could disappear from all of this. Start fresh. But that would mean walking away from Mercedes... and from Lewis. I don't want to let him down—not after everything we've been through, not when he still believes in me.

So many thoughts rush through my mind that I can barely hear the rest of what my father is saying. I just sit there, nodding silently, wondering which decision—if any—will lead me to peace.

POV Lando: 

"Has anyone seen Carlos?" I ask as I rush into the Ferrari garage, completely out of place among the sea of red, but I don't care—I need to find him before she does.

"Carlos!" I shout, pounding on the door of his dressing room. No answer.

Screw it.

I push the door open. "Carlos—!"

"Lando, what the hell are you doing here?" he snaps, caught halfway through putting on his suit.

"Listen to me. Isa's here."

His expression changes in an instant. "Isa? You're joking."

"I wish I was. I came straight over when I saw her. I thought you knew."

Carlos runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "No, I haven't heard from her since we broke up. I've got nothing to say to her. She shouldn't be here."

"It's not that simple," I say quickly. "She's definitely looking for you, and you know she's not the type to give up easily."

"I don't care. I'm not dealing with her."

Easy for him to say. But I can't stick around to play bodyguard—I've got my own car to get into for FP1. I glance at the time.

"I have to go, practice starts in ten. Just... be careful, alright? I don't think she's here just to say hi."

Carlos nods, jaw clenched, but says nothing more. I turn and bolt back toward the McLaren garage.

As I make my way down the paddock, I catch sight of Isa, casually walking near the Ferrari pit box like she belongs there. My heart sinks.

Then my eyes shift to the Mercedes pit wall. Y/n is sitting beside Toto, her headset on, eyes glued to the data screens. Oblivious—for now.

Let's hope it stays that way.