Marry. Ride. Love.

Fucking asshole

*Valentino*

I was a little confused when I saw Alessia and Bella sitting so close to each other at breakfast. They had their heads together and were giggling the whole time. My gaze slid from the two of them to my breakfast in confusion.

"Yeah. I don't get it either," Bez said "When I saw them last night, they were crying at first. Then I asked if they needed anything. Chocolate or me beating someone up or something and then they started laughing."

"I can tell you why. You and beating someone up?", Maro half bent over the table.

"What, I have more upper arm muscles than you skinny shirt!"

"That doesn't mean you can beat someone up.", and while the two of them were lost in a discussion about whether and who could beat up whom, I was watching Bella.

I had been avoiding her whenever I could.

There was no point to any of it. No matter how I approached it, it always went wrong. Even though I was pretty sure by now that there was nothing between her and Pecco after all. I didn't know which moment had opened my eyes, but probably it was the fact that Pecco treated Alessia the same way he treated Bella. And Bella dealt with Max the same way she dealt with Pecco.

So maybe I had just imagined something that wasn't there. And maybe that was why I had pushed her away from me. But it was too late anyway.

She had left after our recent argument with Max, and when I had come home only to realize that she wasn't there, I had realized how much I had gotten used to her being there. How much I sought her closeness without really letting her get to me. It had been so strange that she hadn't been there.

Then when I had seen her on TV in Max's box, happy and waving at the camera, it had felt even weirder. She had been so far away, and I had had to think about what would happen when the year was up. When we were no longer married and she was no longer tied to me or the house.

Yes, she was building up her workshop in Tavullia, but would she then perhaps travel more with Max again?

When she had been on television, it had said underneath her 

"Isabella Rossi - wife of MotoGP legend Valentino Rossi, friend of Max Verstappen".

That was how the world perceived her. As my wife. And I was maybe the only one who didn't see her that way.

I wanted her to be. But I couldn't bring myself to show her that.

I had felt pure relief when she had returned home, but had chosen to keep my distance afterwards. Maybe if I got used to her not being around, it wouldn't be so bad afterwards when she left again.

Bella pushed herself up from the table, stroked Marco's hair briefly, and then disappeared outside.

She looked stunning. As she always did, actually. But today, even more so. No idea why. I lifted my head as she walked past us outside, but this time she was the one who didn't return my gaze.

I immediately lowered my head again.

Distance, Valentino, in nine months she will move out anyway. I took a deep breath and started eating breakfast again.

She would leave, there was no doubt in my mind anymore. She would go.

Together with the boys and Alessia and Marco, I left the hospitality a little later.

We made our way to our pits.

There was already a lot going on in the paddock, although there was still quite a bit of time before qualifying.