She's back ~ L. Hamilton

112. | Lose

The paddock felt endless.

Maybe it was the weight of everything that had happened, pressing down on me, making it harder to breathe, harder to think. The air was thick with the smell of burnt rubber and fuel, but the noise—the usual chaos of an F1 weekend—felt distant, like I was underwater.

Daniel and Lewis had crashed.

Not just any crash. A brutal, violent one that left Daniel's car motionless in the middle of the track, left Lewis limping his way across the finish line in a broken Mercedes, barely scoring a point.

And it was Daniel's fault.

I knew it. He knew it. The whole damn world knew it.

I had watched it happen from the Mercedes garage, frozen in place as Lewis' voice crackled through the radio, winded but still there. Then Daniel's, short and sharp before he yanked off his helmet and walked away without looking back.

I walked blindly through the paddock, my head spinning, until I realized I had no idea where I was. These corridors all looked the same—offices, briefing rooms, places I'd never needed to be before. My pulse was still hammering in my ears when I turned a corner, opened a door without thinking—

And stopped cold.

Daniel was there.

Slumped against the wall, his fire suit half undone, his hair damp with sweat. His knuckles were raw.

He lifted his head, his gaze locking onto mine. The moment stretched, heavy and suffocating.

Then his expression hardened.

"You lost?" His voice was sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade.

I swallowed. "I—no. I don't know."

His laugh was bitter, humorless. "Figures. You've been lost this whole time."

It stung. Maybe because I knew exactly what he meant.

I took a hesitant step forward. "Daniel—"

"Don't." His voice was low, dangerous. "Don't stand here and act like you give a damn"

The words hit harder than I expected. "Are you serious? I thought you were dead out there." My voice cracked, but I didn't care. "I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think—"

"And whose fault is that?" He pushed off the wall, his presence suddenly overwhelming. "I didn't lose control for no reason, Delaney. I didn't just wake up this morning and decide to crash. You did this."

I scoffed. "Are you kidding?"

He shook his head, stepping closer. "You had a choice."

"Yeah, I did," I shot back. "And I chose myself."

That hit something. I saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists. "Bullshit. You chose him"

I let out a sharp laugh. "Oh, grow up, Daniel. My life doesn't revolve around who I'm dating. Maybe if you focused on your own damn race instead of worrying about me, you wouldn't have thrown yourself into Lewis like a fucking amateur."

His nostrils flared. "Don't you dare put that on me."

"Who else am I gonna put it on?" I snapped. "Lewis gave you space. You decided to be a reckless idiot because you couldn't handle your feelings like a normal person."

He took another step toward me, but I didn't move. Didn't flinch. If he wanted to fight, I'd fight.

"You don't get it," he growled.