NINE

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Looking at myself through these newfound eyes

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LANDO

With the constant ache in my chest still as prominent as ever, I padded towards my car, carelessly dragging my training bag behind me. A week had passed since mine and Isabelle's abrupt and unexpected break up and it wasn't getting any easier. The pain in my chest only grew as each day went on. I'd spent the past five days in a hotel, which I did not plan on doing, but I was too exhausted to drive home every night. Plus, being in my apartment reminded me of Isabelle and I needed to focus right now. I would be flying to the next circuit on the race calendar in a matter of days; I didn't have the time to put little effort in. Everybody at the factory knew about mine and Isabelle's break up. I'd not posted a single thing about it on social media, but somehow, every single team member in the factory knew about our split. They would try to console me, or to cheer me up, because I wasn't my normal self. Everywhere ached a little more. I felt a little heavier, without having Issy by my side.

Friday finally rolled around again and as I packed my training gear into the back seat of my McLaren, I exhaled and rubbed my face. I was tired and so ready to be able to sleep all weekend. I perched myself comfortably in the driver's seat, starting up the car and reversing out of my parking space. Everything seemed a little blurry. I could feel the tears building in my eyes, as my heart started to pound against the hollow inside of my body. I muttered to myself, shaking my head and drove slowly to the exit gate. I tapped my pass against the scanner to open the barrier and I quickly drove through, shortly picking up the pace as I found myself on the main road.

The drive was smooth for the first ten minutes and I thought I would be home in record time. However, I soon saw a massive tailback of traffic and I couldn't help but groan, holding my head in my hands as I forced my vehicle to a stop. I had an uneasy feeling in my stomach. I knew I was going to be stuck here for a while. I created a fist and smacked it off of the rubber of the steering wheel, exhaling sharply as I reached for the bottle of water from my training bag. I took a few sips, then shoved it into the drinks holder by my left side.

I glanced up into my mirror to check the volume of traffic which was building behind me. It seemed like thousands of cars were lining up behind mine. Nothing was moving anywhere and I shortly began to regret driving home this way, the way I believed to be quicker. The more I looked into the mirror, the more noticeable the dull look in my eyes became. I'd never noticed them to be this colour before, not that I ever did pay much attention to my eyes to realise. The brightness had dimmed, they seemed a little more of a dark, murky shade compared to their usual lighter one. The things Isabelle did to me.

I missed her. I missed waking up to her gorgeous face, I missed seeing her name lighting up my phone screen and I missed hearing her voice on the other end of the line when I called her to say I was nearly home. I wondered what she would be doing in the exact same moment that I was stuck in a traffic jam. I just wanted her to feel happier. I should've been a better boyfriend and shown her so much more love than I did. She deserved more than what I gave to her and that was crushing. It destroyed me because I knew that what I had to give was far from enough and Isabelle deserved so much more from me, or from anybody.

As I looked at myself, I could begin to see what it was that I'd done wrong. I didn't love her as much as she needed to be loved. I put the car before her. I remembered what she said about me putting her first before I got my seat in Formula 1, realising she was right. I called her multiple times each day; every morning, afternoon and evening. Sometimes, if I finished work earlier than expected, I would FaceTime her when I arrived back at the hotel. I closed my eyes to see her beautiful smiling face whenever I started up the FaceTime call. I melted every single time. She was just so unbelievably beautiful. Now, I realised that I didn't not appreciate her beauty enough. Hell, of course I would never cheat on her or go anywhere near any other girl, but I didn't appreciate how much beauty she really had and how much she treasured me. It was so obvious in the tone of her voice, the way she smiled so wide whenever she saw my face on her phone.

I thought a little deeper, beginning to understand just how much I should have cared for Isabelle. She wanted nothing but the best for me. She cared about me like there was absolutely nobody else in the world. It was like I was the most important person she could ever have in her life, so she knew how to look after it and make sure it always stayed that way. But I couldn't do the same, when I should have made that my number one priority every damn time. There had been times when I was working that I ignored her calls, but I was busy, whether I was training intensely or just about to get into the car to head out onto the grid. I know the calls I received seconds before I headed to the car were the ones I should've listened to the most. I could hear her voice now, "Good luck Lando, drive safe. I love you" was the only thing I wanted to hear as I sat uncomfortably in this never ending tailback of traffic. I just wanted to hear her voice. I wanted her to say I love you one more time. I wanted to feel her lips against my skin as she held my body closely in her arms, but I could not have that. If I'd paid a little more attention to her, maybe she would still be around, maybe the pain she felt wouldn't be half as bad because I showed her more love whilst I was away. Pushing her away whilst I was working was so wrong and I don't think I would be able to forgive myself for it. I don't think the guilt would ever stop eating away at my insides.

I wanted to change things, I wanted to make her feel better. As the traffic came to a gradual move again, I contemplated visiting her. I thought about this exact time last week and how I was about to go home to get ready for our evening out. I couldn't wait to drive over to her apartment to see her gorgeous face. I wanted to go there now, to be with her, to see how she was feeling. I wanted to know if she was coping alright and hadn't done anything she would regret. Even though Issy was tough, there were certain things she couldn't take and I worried because I didn't want her to do something silly. I hated knowing that she didn't want me. She didn't want the first thing to do with me because she didn't love me anymore.

Tears returned and began to trickle down my cheek. My hands felt like they were completely glued to the steering wheel and I couldn't remove them to wipe my eyes. My heart ached for her; it needed to feel her touch more than I did. My fragile heart was breaking. The traffic came to a halt again and a harsh cry was torn from my chest as my face hit the rim of the wheel. The pain was growing as every day passed, and only having Issy in my arms would make it disappear.

I knew now what I had done wrong. I didn't understand it properly, mostly because I couldn't understand why I did it, but I knew what I'd done to hurt her like this. I was responsible for pushing her away from me and that hurt the most, because it was preventable. I didn't have to treat her how I had done since I was given my seat at McLaren. I'd never thought that would play a massive role in how I lost the love of my life and as I sat in the traffic jam, sobs ripping from my chest as I exhaled heavily, I knew what I'd done to push her away.

The only thing I didn't know, was how to fix it.

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