national treasures| Charles Leclerc

ten

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆

 I stare at the message I just typed, my finger hovering over the send button. 

The words are simple, yet they carry so much weight. 

Camille, can we talk? 

It's not a grand gesture, not some profound statement of regret, but it feels like the most important message I've ever sent.

I don't know why I'm doing this now. 

The guilt has been eating away at me for weeks—months, even. 

Every time I see her, every time I think about what happened between us, it feels like there's something I need to fix. 

Something I should have fixed a long time ago.

But I don't know if I can fix it. 

I don't know if I can fix us.

I should've reached out sooner, back when she was still in Monaco and I could've just called her. 

But I was selfish then. I thought I could just move forward, leave everything behind. 

The F1 world was my focus, my escape. 

And now... now, everything feels so much more complicated.

I watch the three dots bubble up on my screen, knowing Camille is reading my message. 

I try not to second-guess myself, to not read too much into her hesitations. 

But I can feel her distance, the walls she's put up. 

I know I'm the one who built them in the first place, and I can't help but wonder if they'll ever come down.

Okay. 

The message comes back. 

Just one word. 

That's all.

I stare at the screen, trying to breathe through the sudden rush of nerves. 

It's been so long since we've had a real conversation, since I've seen her like this—so raw, so full of questions I don't know how to answer. 

How do I explain everything I've done, everything I've put her through? 

Can I even make up for it now?

I should've never left her the way I did. 

I know that now. 

But at the time, it felt like it was the only option. 

I was young. 

I was scared. 

And I didn't know how to handle what was between us. 

But Camille? 

She didn't deserve that. 

She didn't deserve to be treated like an afterthought, like I could just walk away without looking back. 

And yet, that's exactly what I did.

I put my phone down, trying to calm my racing thoughts. 

I need to prepare myself for what's coming. 

What will she say? 

What will she want to hear from me? 

Will she even want to talk to me at all, or am I just deluding myself into thinking this conversation will make a difference?