𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒 | 𝐋𝐍𝟒

𝐗𝐋𝐗

A/N: ‼️PLEASE COMMENT YOUR THOUGHTS ‼️

••••••

The air outside hospitality felt cooler, fresher, almost like a relief. Max and Pietra had stayed behind in the garage, but Milaine and Lando cut through the pit lane together, weaving past mechanics and engineers. He had maybe half an hour before quali prep — not much, but enough to linger a little.

That's when they spotted her.

Inès, standing dead center like she owned the place, camera dangling around her neck, eyes darting at every corner of the pit lane. She looked like a lost tourist who had accidentally wandered into the wrong part of town. When she caught sight of them, her whole face lit up.

«Oh my god» she gasped, running up dramatically before throwing her arms around both of them.

«Thank. Fucking. God. You two are way better to third wheel with than Oscar and Lily. They're insufferable. Honestly, kill me.»

Milaine burst out laughing instantly, shaking her head. «It was your choice.»

Inès pulled back, already gesturing wildly as she started rambling about the paddock, her photos, and how she was apparently seconds away from losing her mind.
They were mid-laugh when a voice called out behind them.

«Milly!»

Clear, feminine. Everyone recognized it immediately.

Milaine froze. Slowly, she turned. Kelly.

She was standing there a few meters away, Max nowhere in sight. For a second, Kelly looked like she wanted to run forward and hug her — arms almost twitching with the urge — but hesitation held her in place.

She didn't know if things were... okay.

The silence stretched. Milaine held her gaze, lips pressed into a flat line, her stomach twisting.

Next to her, Lando shifted. He caught Inès's eye, reading the room instantly. «Fancy a paddock tour?» he said casually, like he was expecting this moment to happen.

Inès blinked, then nodded too fast. «Uh—yeah, sure. Totally.»

«Right» Lando said, brushing his fingers lightly against Milaine's arm before stepping back. «We'll leave you to it.»

And just like that, he and Inès walked off, slipping back into the crowd, leaving Milaine and Kelly standing face to face.

Kelly closed the distance in quick strides until she was standing right in front of Milaine, relief breaking across her face.

«Oh my god» she breathed «Thank god. You're glowing. Honestly, you look incredible. I watched—» Her words tumbled over each other, rushed, nervous. «I watched the US Open. Congrats. You were amazing. I cried when you won. You were—»

«You weren't there, though.»

The words were quiet, but sharp enough to slice straight through the flattery. Milaine's expression didn't shift; her voice was flat, almost detached.

Kelly froze, her mouth opening, then closing again before the apology finally spilled out. «Oh, Milaine, please, I'm so sorry—»

But Milaine cut her off, her tone suddenly heavier, like she'd been holding it in for far too long. «No. You promised. You both promised me you'd come. And you never showed up. I looked past everything and told Viv to send you invitations.»

Her jaw tightened, eyes sharp now «—and you still ignored it. You didn't even text.»

Kelly's gaze darted around, realizing people were already glancing their way. The last thing either of them needed was to give the paddock fresh fuel for gossip.