VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 138

[POV: Andreanna Saunterre]

Abu Dhabi looked strange from the window I had my forehead pressed up against.

With every turn of the taxi came more wide roads and tall buildings lit in sharp white. Everything looked ordered, and the air-conditioning in the back seat was strong enough to make my skin prickle. I watched the driver's meter climb, the time on my phone ticking slowly over toward midnight.

I kept checking my messages to see if Oscar had sent me anything other than the hotel address. Maybe a message saying he's out for the night. Or another 'Go if you're going.'

Every few minutes I told myself I should have stayed home. But the car kept moving forward, and so did I.

Because I ultimately decided I'd go. Like I said.

I kept going back and forth on it, circling the thought for days, debating if showing up was the right thing. Debating if walking away quietly would be kinder.

But Marco kept pressing me on it.

He got me to spill the reason for my 'misery,' and then acted like me going to Abu Dhabi like I said I would was imperative.

I didn't know he was so passionate about sticking to plans.

"You should go," he kept saying. "Just go, silly."

He had a way of saying it that made me think it wasn't really a choice.

And the whole time, I just kept thinking, and knowing, that if he knew what going to Abu Dhabi meant, what it really meant, he wouldn't have been so pushy about it.

If he knew what I was planning on doing, he probably would have told me the opposite. He'd probably think I was being dramatic and there wouldn't be any point in trying to explain myself, because he'd just write it off as unnecessary and then there would be no getting through to him. Because he wouldn't understand even if I told him; that this was the best option. For both of us. In the long run.

So I just thought, fine, I'll go.

Oscar would know something was wrong if I didn't go.

And it's better to make it quick.

Why drag it out, anyway?

It's like— ripping off a band-aid.

Leaving it on will only make me overthink it more than I already have.

And I didn't want to ruin his last race of the season by making him worried. I didn't want to ruin it like mine was. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

In, and then out. Simple.

I told myself he'd be asleep by the time I arrived too, and so that was almost a relief. No awkward hello at the door, no sudden rush of words I can't hold back. Then all I'd have to do is get through tomorrow, say my piece, and then go. Then it's done.

But of course, things never line up the way I tell myself they will.

The hotel smelled like air conditioning and polished counters. I dragged my suitcase through the lobby, half-shaking from nerves and caffeine. The elevator felt too fast, and it was all too quiet.

I keep thinking: this is stupid. I shouldn't be here.

And then the door clicked open, light spilling out where there shouldn't be any, and I froze — because yes, I shouldn't be here.

He's not asleep.

He's sitting at the table, arms folded. He's waiting for me in there.