Until my Last Breath

27

Barcelona, Spain

It's been nearly three weeks since Darwin's interview sent my life into a tailspin, and the world hasn't moved on. Not even close. The media is still buzzing, headlines dissecting every angle of the so-called Bianchi Scandal, while social media churns out post after post questioning everything about me-my career, my mental state, my right to even compete.

I haven't spoken to anyone since that call with Marina. Not Charles, not Arthur, not even Pascale. I sent a single text to the group chat last week to let them know I was fine and then went completely silent. I know they're worried, but I can't bring myself to respond. No one knows what really happened with Darwin. Well, almost no one

I squeeze my eyes shut, the memory of that night in Monaco flashing through my mind. His hand on my arm, pulling me away. Darwin's sneer. The anger and humiliation swirling in my chest. I swallow hard, pushing the thought away.

The heat is unbearable now, so I swing my leg out of the pool and sit up, brushing my damp hair out of my face. Two weeks. That's all I have left before I'm back in the paddock, facing the cameras, the questions, and-worst of all-Darwin.

A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

My head snaps toward the sound, my pulse quickening. I wasn't expecting anyone.

I stand slowly, grabbing a shirt from the lounge chair and pulling it on as I make my way inside. My steps are cautious, my mind racing with possibilities. Maybe it's Arthur again, even though I've ignored him every time he's shown up. Or Marina. But something feels different this time.

I stop at the door, hesitating for a moment before leaning forward to peek through the security camera.

My breath catches in my throat.

Gavi?

What is he doing here?

I step back, my heart pounding. Of all the people I've avoided, I never expected him to show up.

Why would he?

I take a shaky breath, trying to calm myself. Maybe if I stay quiet, he'll think I'm not home and leave.

But before I can retreat, his voice comes through the door, low and steady.

"I know you're there, Rita. Please open the door."

I freeze, my hands clenched at my sides. He sounds calm, but there's something in his tone-an edge of determination that makes my chest tighten.

Why is he here? What does he want?

I turn to tiptoe back toward the living room, but his next words stop me in my tracks.

"Rita, I know what happened. Please let me help you."

The air leaves my lungs in a rush at the memory

He was there. We were both there, standing up to Darwin together. But hearing him say it out loud feels different, like a spotlight suddenly shining on a secret I've been desperately trying to bury.

I stand there for a moment, frozen. My hands tremble as I press them against the door, my heart hammering in my chest. I don't want to open it. I don't want to face him.

But I also know that If he's here, he's not going to leave without saying what he came to say.

With a deep breath, I unlock the door and pull it open, just enough to see him standing there.

Gavi's eyes meet mine, soft and full of concern.

"You also saw it, hm?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.