GREENE | CS55

32 - Don't Look Back

"How long have you known?"

The warm air swirled around Pierce as she glided past the hoards of people, elbowing her way past the faceless frames until she'd reached the crest of the hill. Bordering the sea, the hum of the breeze offered a small semblance of relief. Of sanity. Of stillness within the confused anger cooped in the back of her throat.

As she whirled around, finding no more use in silently stalking away with Carlos at her tail, Pierces hand clutched tightly around something; which she realized then was her decorated cup of water. A cucumber floated at the bottom, half-bit and pinned under the straw. Carlos ordered it for her from the bar, a proud smile filling his face with light as he beamed at her in the darkened room.

None of that light existed in his expression now. Only twists of fear, and regret.

"Carlos," Pierce stabbed a finger downwards before her free hand clutched into a fist. She felt the tremble as her body stopped walking, spinning to face Carlos. He peeled his eyes from the sidewalk, flinching at the hurt she didn't bother hiding from her expression. "How long have you known?"

The question was pointless. She knew the process. This didn't happen just last week. Things like this didnt take place overnight. Four-time world champions, Formula One icons— they didn't just wake up one day and decide to retire. Not at this point in the season. Nor did historic teams rooted in tradition tend to make any brash and unplanned decisions without following all the steps.

Pierce knew. It was months. Maybe even over a year. No, that would have been too long. Too far in advance. Carlos wanted to win for McLaren that day in Austin. She remembered the way his emotions shone through the haze in his eyes that night in Austin, trying to drown away the pain of what Pierce had taken from him.

The way Carlos explained how unappreciated he felt at McLaren. It's no wonder he jumped ship. It was a situation that was easy enough for Pierce to empathize.

But still she asked, not because she didn't know, but because she felt like at least an attempt at an explanation was what she deserved. Plus, it bought her a little bit of time to cool down. To let the anger blistering the surface of her skin to fester into something productive. Something that could be conducive to an actual conversation.

"I signed the contract back at the end of March." Carlos looked at her sadly. "I wanted to tell you. I just didn't know how."

Pierce scoffed, her eyes twisting behind her to search for a surface to rest her drink. The liquid had splashed on to the fabric at her knee, and while it wouldn't have bothered Pierce in any other instance, she couldn't help but feel like the darkened patch of soiled denim only accentuated the embarrassment she felt.

"You didn't know how," Pierce repeated, finding the edge of the barrier and perching herself on the edge of it, her eyes lost. Part of her understood, and if she had to, she'd force the rest of her to get there as well. Carlos couldn't have meant anything malicious by holding this all back from her. But, she couldn't wipe away the feeling bruising her core, like a punch in the gut. Why couldn't Carlos have just told her? Carlos was always the first one she wanted to tell!

The tips of Carlos' shoes appeared in her peripheral. Pierce continued, "Does Lando know?"

"Yeah," Carlos sighed.

Pierce clenched her teeth together, drawing in a sharp breath and forcing a nod. Her eyes stung.

The fact didn't push her anger. Lando was his best friend, his teammate. Of course he would tell Lando. She took a deep breath in, feigning control. Forcing herself to understand. Wanting more than anything to grapple at tumbling straws to try and build up their solid structure once more. Trying her hardest to not let herself, or this, fall apart.