~Sparks~ A Max Verstappen Story

Chapter Four-Pierre Forgets My Birthday and I get Flowers

Sunday night comes too soon.

Reality sets back in. This thing between Max and I, it isn't real, we are playing house. I have a husband, Max has a life. We can't  do this past this weekend. But god did it feel good to be paid attention to, to be looked after for once.

When Max drops me back at the apartment he hugs me so tight I'm fighting tears. Neither of us want to let go, but I know I have to. When I pull back Max makes me promise to call him tomorrow and then it's just me. In mine and Pierre's apartment. Alone.

I skip dinner and cry myself to sleep.

When I wake up the bed is cold. No Max curled around me, no purring Jimmy and Sassy in between our legs. Just me. The contrast is dizzying, I'd forgotten what it felt like to be that alone. At Max's there was always a constant stream of noise, whether from him or the cats or some music playing. In comparison I lived in fragile silence. Pierre hated when something disturbed him, so I learned to be quiet and keep the apartment quiet. 

The buzz of my phone breaks me out of my thoughts. When I turn it over it's Max's name that flashes across the screen. My mood picks up instantly, and I answer it with a smile. "Good morning Iz," Max says and the nickname makes my skin tingle.

"Morning Maxie," I say and I can just imagine the look on his face.

"Don't know how to feel about that nickname, but I'm just going to roll with it," he says honestly and it makes me laugh.

"So? The reason you called?" I say lightly.

"Oh I was wondering, if you had any plans for your birthday on Thursday?"

"Not all at actually, I was just going to stay in," I say, wincing at how pathetic it sounded.

"Well that won't do at all. Let me plan something for you, something small. Maybe invite some of your friends and I could invite some of the guys?" He says and my heart swells in my chest. No one had ever offered to plan a party for me.

Then it registers what he says, I didn't have any friends. "Um this is so embarrassing, but I don't have any friends that aren't well...you," I say grimacing.

"Don't worry liefje, I'll ask the guys to bring their girlfriends. I know you'll get on great with them." He says softly. It doesn't necessarily convince me, but I feel less anxious about the situation.

I'm about to ask Max about his plans for the day when I hear the sound of keys in the door. Pierre was back. 

"I'm sorry Max, I have to go!" I say and hang up before he can even respond.

"Isabel! Mon Amour!" I hear Pierre call out my name.

The term of endearment throws me for a loop, but I go to greet him anyways.

Standing there in the doorway is Pierre; a bouquet of flowers in one hand, and his suitcase in the other.

"Here, because we left on bad terms. Also because I missed you," he says and I take the flowers from him.

"Thank you, Pierre. This is very thoughtful, I'm sorry we fought," I say, stroking the petals of one of the flowers.

He gathers me into his arms, and I fight the urge to stiffen. I relax into him, sometimes I was reminded of the man I had once loved. It almost made me feel guilty about Max, but then he opens his mouth.

"So what is this I hear about you going to a club? Men could've taken advantage of you, plus you didn't ask me," he says

"We weren't really speaking Pierre, I couldn't ask you. I needed to get out of the apartment for a little bit. I came right back here after a few drinks to settle myself." I say softly.

"Good, I don't need you going out and tarnishing our last name by getting drunk at a club. Speaking of drinks, fix me one, I've had a long morning," he says finally letting me go.

I test the waters a bit, "I was thinking I could make breakfast. Waffles. Your favorite, and we could have mimosas with it? That way it sits better. I don't  want you to not be able to do all your work because you drank on an empty stomach."

"Now that sounds a lot better, go put some makeup and that little pink dress I like. This outfit won't do. I like to watch you cook all dolled up," he says and although I don't want to, I'd rather not upset him.

After getting dressed and doing my hair and makeup I find Pierre sitting at the counter, waiting for me to start. I quickly get to work, and soon enough we're both eating at the table. 

When Pierre is full and downed at least two mimosas, I ask the question that's been on the tip of my tongue since he got home.

"I was wondering if you would be willing to go with me to my birthday party on Thursday, Max is planning it for me," I say quickly.

"Max? Verstappen? Is planning your birthday party? How would he even know about it?" Pierre asks placing down his fork.

"We ran into each other at the club and I mentioned it. He asked to plan it for me, and I took him up on his offer," I say quietly.

"You know how I feel about you speaking to other drivers, especially Max," he says and his grip tightens on his mimosa glass.

"He was just trying to be friendly, I think it would be nice, you always say how much you like the parties Max throws," I say reaching over and resting a hand on Pierre's arm.

"I'm not happy about this Isabel, what if he is just trying to sleep with you. You belong to me remember, we are married," he says heatedly.

"He has a girlfriend Pierre, and no interest in me at all. I thought you'd be happy I was trying to get along with your friends," I say.

"Max Verstappen is not my friend," he grits out defensively.

"Charles will be there, he can keep an eye on me, or even better you could come and see for yourself," I say in a last ditch effort.

"What day is it again?" He says and I try to keep my face from falling. He doesn't even remember my birthday.

"Thursday, the 25th is my birthday, but Max said Friday would be the optimal day for the party," I say.

"I have to be at the factory from Thursday until Monday, so I won't be able to attend. But if Charles is going, I'll let you go as well," he says.

I can't help it, I throw my arms around his neck and press kisses to his cheek.  "thank you, thank you, you have no idea how much it means to me," I say excitedly.

"Anything that makes you smile like that, Mon amour, you can have," He says stroking the side of my face softly before going rigid. As if remembering himself he pulls away from me and stands up from his chair. "I have to work now, don't forget to clean up. Be ready by five for dinner as well, we're going out," he says, and that slightly cold indifference is back. I'd never understand why he pulls away from me. We could be so happy if he just let us. I know we'd been through a lot and he was overall awful to me, but I'd never let go of hope.

Dinner is surprisingly nice. Pierre is a perfect gentleman the whole time, even stays off his phone while we eat. He even holds my hand while we walk back, and presses a kiss to my temple before leaving to handle some business in his sim room. It's weird.

I want to be ignorant about it, and act like I don't notice him acting strange. I mean was I ungrateful for being suspicious that my husband was treating me nice? Possibly.

My curiosity gets the better of me. I go down the hall from our bedroom, walking as quietly as possible. Just my luck the door is cracked, and I can faintly hear Pierre's voice. When I get closer, I can tell he's on the phone, and that he's irritated.

"I know baby, but you know I have to keep people from getting suspicious. The paparazzi caught wind of some things, I have to keep appearances up. She loved the flowers by the way, you did a good job," he says. Even though I shouldn't have expected anything different, it still hurt nonetheless. Of course he was only being nice to me for appearances, everything was about his image.

With a sigh I walk down the hall to our room. This was my reality, married to a man who didn't love me.