𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗟, sᴇʙᴀsᴛɪᴀɴ ᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇʟ

four

MARIE Valentina passed away on May 30th, 2014.

The hospital had been a blur of sterile white walls and hushed tones as the family grappled with the sudden loss. Now, they were back in their childhood home, sitting around the old dining table. The room was heavy with silence, the two empty chairs where Marie would have sat a stark reminder of her absence.

Inés stared blankly at the table, her thoughts muddled. Her brothers were engaged in a heated discussion about what to do next. The topic of their mother's final arrangements had become a point of contention.

"I think she should be cremated," Marco said firmly, his face set in a hard line. "It's simpler and more practical."

"No," Javier countered. "She should be buried. It's what she wanted."

Alex rubbed his temples, clearly worn out. "Can we just make a decision without arguing?"

Cristian sat in silence, his eyes red and puffy, looking between his brothers. Inés felt a pang of frustration. She wanted to contribute, to help in any way she could, but every time she tried to speak up, the conversation grew more heated.

"I think—" Inés started, but Marco cut her off abruptly.

"Don't you think you've had enough input?" Marco snapped. "You're the one who left when things got tough. You didn't even know Mom's condition was this serious. You don't get to decide what happens now."

Inés flinched at the harshness of Marco's words. Tears stung her eyes as she fought to maintain her composure. "I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "But I'm still her daughter. I want to be involved."

"No, you don't get to just swoop in and make decisions," Marco continued, his anger palpable. "You haven't been around for years. You don't get to act like you care now."

The accusation cut deep, and Inés's face flushed with humiliation. She could feel the weight of her brother's resentment pressing down on her. Unable to stay, she stood up abruptly, her chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"I need some air," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper, before turning and rushing out of the room.

Outside, the cool evening air was a small relief. Inés leaned against the wall, her breathing uneven as she fought to control her emotions. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Fumbling with it, she saw a missed call and voicemail from Sebastian. The timestamp indicated it was the middle of the night in Monaco.

She hesitated but then pressed play. Sebastian's voice, though slightly groggy, was filled with concern.

"Hey Inés, it's me. I saw that you missed my call and just wanted to check in. I hope everything's okay. Call me back if you can. I'm here for you."

Inés's resolve crumbled. Her thumb hovered over the call button, and she pressed it, dialing Sebastian's number. It rang a few times before he picked up.

"Inés? It's really late... what's wrong?"

Inés tried to keep her voice steady, but it broke as she spoke. "I... I'm sorry for calling so late. It's just... my mother passed away. We're trying to decide what to do with her... and my brothers... they don't want me to be involved. They think I don't care, and it's just... too much."

Sebastian's voice was soft, trying to offer comfort despite the hour. "I'm so sorry, Inés. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you. Just breathe and take your time. You're allowed to feel however you need to right now."

Inés swallowed hard, her tears flowing freely now. "Thank you. I didn't know who else to call."

"I'm glad you did. If you need anything—anything at all—I'm here. Just let me know."

The conversation ended with a promise of support, and Inés felt a small flicker of comfort despite her pain. She hung up, feeling relief

In the privacy of an apartment, Sebastian sat in the dim light of a room, the phone still in his hand. He had been in the middle of something more casual when Inés's call came through. The interruption had been jarring, but hearing her voice had made him realize how deeply he cared for her, despite their brief interactions.

He glanced at the figure of a woman he had been with earlier that night, who now stirred in the background. Sebastian's thoughts were solely on Inés. He stood up, his decision clear. He couldn't remain in this superficial situation; his thoughts were entirely with her.

Sebastian quietly gathered his things and left the apartment. The streets of Monaco felt oddly serene as he walked, his mind focused on Inés and the intensity of his feelings for her. The connection he felt was overwhelming, and that scared him.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something about Inés was different. As he walked, he thought about how he'd spent the night searching for information about her. It wasn't just idle curiosity—he felt a genuine connection, even though they'd only met briefly.

He pulled out his phone and scrolled through the messages from earlier in the day. There was one from Britta, reminding him about their meeting later, but he couldn't focus on that right now. What occupied his mind was Inés.

At a small café near his apartment, he stopped and sat at a table outside. He took a deep breath, letting the cool morning air clear his head. He remembered watching interviews and runway shows of Inés the night before. He had found himself glued to the screen, fascinated by her passion and sincerity.

"Why am I doing this?" Sebastian muttered to himself, shaking his head. "I barely know her."

He turned off his phone leaving it next to his pillow, The Canadian Grand Prix was a week away and he really needed to get back on his a-game.