[3] MARANELLO || C. LECLERC

FOUR

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CAMILLE

I rolled over in the comfortable bed, rubbing my eyes as I remembered that I was working today. I wasn't particularly in the mood for it, especially because things between Charles and I were a little tense after our heated discussion in Brazil yesterday. I couldn't believe I ever agreed to work the day after we got home; I was running off of a few hours sleep and I was exhausted. Thankfully, I was only scheduled in for a meeting today with Sara, Clara and Noah, so I would be home at a reasonable time. I couldn't wait to get back home and climb into bed, wrapping myself in warm blankets whilst relaxing with some hot chocolate in front of the television. Charles tried to talk to me when we got home, but I was too tired to listen to his excuses, so I brought myself to bed. It was very early in the morning when we fell through the doorway, leaving our suitcases to be sorted when we felt more awake, but I'd barely slept a wink, or so it felt. Carefully, and with a grumble, I lifted my face to take a glance at the clock - it was only ten A.M., but I needed to be at the studio for twelve, and a relaxing, hot shower was calling my name. I knew Charles would sleep for a few hours longer, so I slipped out of the bed and crept across the carpet towards the bathroom.

I flicked the shower on and removed my pyjamas, throwing them into a messy pile on the tiled floor as a huff left my mouth. I couldn't be mad at Charles, especially not when I was still contemplating admitting everything that happened between Stoffel and I in 2016 after I had to tell Max. I wished it could've been simpler, and everything could've remained quiet like before. It was perfect, until I saw Stoffel again in Valencia, leaving me with no other option but to leave and head to Italy to join Charles. Since then, the memories from that night came rushing back and engraved themselves into my mind, leaving me questioning myself and if keeping something so big from Charles was a good idea. I understood the rules at Ferrari, just like any other Formula One team, and I knew that he would never disrespect rules he signed a contract for. Yet, if anything ever involved Stefan, just like this did, I thought I would be Charles' first thing to consider, especially because he knew how much damage Stefan did to me and my body, both physically and emotionally. I still didn't know the full story, after sleeping for the duration of the whole flight home from Brazil and continuing to rest in the car as we drove back into Monaco from the airport. I just didn't know what to do.

The water poured down onto my hair and my back as I stupidly allowed the thought of Stefan to consume me. I didn't know where my mind should wander, and I was stricken with fear at the thought of seeing him again. Even if he wasn't at every single race, I knew he would appear at some, and Charles would have to face him at pre-race meetings, most likely. Their introduction would be forced yet formal, and I knew that it would be tense, maybe leaving Charles feeling a little uncomfortable after having to look such a dirty man in the eyes. I chewed on my lips as my back hit the glass cubicle which I stood in, whilst the shower continued to pour hot water against my back. I never wanted to see Stefan ever again. I didn't want him to ruin the amazing life I was creating with Charles, especially after everything he'd already done to me.

I could feel the tears building in my eyes, a warm lump filling my tight throat, as I tried to remain calm. It felt like I wasn't allowed to be mad at him, but that was never my intention anyway. I wanted everything to be perfect between us and I wanted to apologise for acting so dramatically yesterday, although, I did feel hurt. I felt assured that Max and Charles would do everything they could to keep me safe, even in the presence of Stefan. In reality, I had nothing to worry about, even if it meant that I spent race weekends in the Red Bull garage instead of Ferrari; it would be sad, but if it kept me safe, it would always be the overruling option. I shook my feelings off, reaching for the bottle of shampoo from the small shelf, knowing that I had places to be and sulking about Stefan was a complete waste of my time. Worrying about him wouldn't make me feel any better - it was completely pointless, and I knew that I was surrounded by people who would do everything they could to ensure that I was comfortable. I had bigger and better things to think about than the return of Stefan van de Berg.