A race to your heart (Zarry AU)

17.- Round and round 🏁

Zayn's POV

During these times of loneliness, I nursed my still-fresh wounds from the fallout and watched how Harry took in his newfound freedom. He never responded to any of my texts.

Given his silence, I searched on my phone for recent pictures or headlines about him. I needed to know something about him, and then I saw the image I dreaded.

"He seems happy without me," I guessed when I saw a photograph of him with his ex-girlfriend. In the image, they were arriving at JFK airport, holding hands, and he was smiling. My heart clenched at the sight, a wave of jealousy and sadness washing over me. I couldn't help but wonder if he had moved on so easily.

"Can you please zip me up, baby?" Nicole's voice broke through my thoughts, bringing me back to reality.

"Sure," I replied, blocking my phone and sliding it back into my pocket. As I helped her with the zipper, a pang of guilt hit me. The jealousy that once consumed me had become a bitter reminder of what I had lost.

I looked at Nicole and saw how beautiful she was. She had been with me through my ups and downs, never questioning too much after learning about my suspension or why I was in a bad mood following the fallout with Harry. The first few days were the worst, suffering like I was going through withdrawal, and he was my fix.

"How do I look?" she asked with a bright smile, her eyes searching mine for approval.

"Gorgeous," I said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. A flashback hit me—me and Harry in my hotel room, his laughter echoing as I repeated the same compliment. I shook my head to clear the memory. "Let's go, shall we?" I suggested, offering her my arm as we exited the penthouse.

In a surprising turn of events, our PR relationship had evolved into a genuine connection. Nicole was a heiress part of New York's real estate empire. She easily recognized the complexities of my world and embraced the abnormal nature of our relationship. Despite the warmth and comfort she provided, I couldn't help but struggle with moving forward from what I had with Harry. Regret lingered, and I began to wonder if F1 was the right place for me.

We arrived at the charity event hosted by one of our sponsors, and my anxiety kicked in. I despised these types of events, the red carpets, the forced smiles. We posed for a few photos, our hands intertwined as we entered the venue, still blinded by the flashes of cameras.

And then I saw him—Harry, with Emily. Our eyes locked for a brief moment, and then after dinner, I watched him leave with her. The pit in my stomach grew deeper.

Back on the racing circuit, the season continued its relentless pace. Ferrari dominated on the track, securing podiums and accumulating crucial points for the Constructors' Championship. Each race was a blur of speed, strategy, and adrenaline. But even as the thrill of competition consumed me, my thoughts kept drifting back to Harry.

Always Harry.

The memories of our time together began to resurface with an intensity I hadn't expected. Every corner of the track, every victory celebration, seemed to echo with the laughter and passion we recently shared. I couldn't shake the sense of loss, nor the yearning for closure that had settled deep within me.

It wasn't long before Harry approached me, his demeanor hesitant, as though he too was up wrestling with the weight of our unspoken emotions.

"Hey, can I have a word?" he asked, catching me off guard while I was discussing some race details with my performance manager after an intense practice session.

Surprised but willing, I agreed to meet. We found a quiet corner of the paddock, away from the prying eyes of the media and the bustling activity of the race weekend. The air between us was thick with tension, a mixture of unresolved feelings and the awkwardness of our newfound distance.