Until my last breath

13

July 2022
Maranello, Italy.

The next day, I find myself boarding a private flight bound for Maranello, the familiar sight of Lorenzo and Arthur seated across from me, both looking equally exhausted yet buzzing with excitement. Last night's gala feels like a blur—a strange mix of comforting and unsettling, a night that, for better or worse, I won't easily forget. And somewhere between the chaos and exhaustion, Gavi's words have stayed with me, convincing me that this trip is exactly what I need.

"Glad you're finally coming along this time," Arthur grins, stretching his legs out as the plane takes off. "Thought we'd have to drag you."

"Guess I was just waiting for the right moment," I shrug, feigning nonchalance, but Arthur's grin only widens.

"Right moment, huh? Was it something—or someone—that finally convinced you?" he teases.

I narrow my eyes. "Careful, Arch. You don't want to find out how well I throw things."

Lorenzo chuckles, shaking his head. "It's good you're getting back to the track, Ree. You've been needing this."

I just nod, glancing out the window as we ascend above the clouds, a feeling of calm slowly settling over me. The closer we get to Italy, the more I feel the familiar anticipation—the heartbeat of the track pulling me back, reminding me of who I am.

By the time we arrive in Maranello, the day is already heating up, the sun high in the Italian sky. The moment I step out of the car onto the track, I feel that pull, a magnetic connection that's as close to home as anything I've ever felt. Charles is already out there, his car parked in the shade as his team goes over the final checks.

He spots us and waves, his expression brightening when he sees me. "Ree! It's about time."

I laugh, feeling a sudden warmth that has nothing to do with the sun. "Well, I didn't want you to think I'd forgotten about you entirely."

Arthur claps me on the back, nodding toward the track. "Come on. Let's get you set up so you can watch him wipe the floor of the track."

Charles rolls his eyes, laughing. "You're hyping me up too much, Arch."

We make our way over to the side of the pit lane, where Charles' red car gleams under the sunlight. I feel the rush, the thrill of the circuit, the pull of the asphalt calling to me. But today, I'm here only to watch, a spectator to Charles' world, reconnecting with the track in a different way.

"Sure you don't want to take a lap?" Charles calls out as he straps his helmet on, ready to get into the car, giving me a playful wink.

I shake my head, laughing. "Not today, Charles. Today, I'm just here to cheer you on."

"Could've fooled me. You're staring at that car like you're ready to jump in," Arthur chimes in, grinning.

"It's in my blood," I reply, unable to tear my eyes away from the car. The sound of the engines roaring to life sends a shiver down my spine, a reminder of every race, every lap I've taken. It feels like coming home, like remembering a part of myself I've been too caught up to see.

Charles' free practice run begins, and the instant he takes off, I feel my heart racing as if I'm the one in the driver's seat. The car speeds around the corners with precision, the turns so sharp they nearly take my breath away, but Charles handles them like it's second nature. Watching him, I can't help but smile, pride swelling in my chest. He's good. He's so damn good.

Beside me, Arthur leans in. "Feels different being on the other side, doesn't it?"

I nod, watching as Charles maneuvers the car with ease. "It does. But...I think I needed this. Just watching without the pressure, you know?"