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In milliseconds, I feel like I am being hit in the chest. My heart starts hurting and I notice the tears rushing up to my eyes.
I try to process his words, but a thought interrupts my thinking.
How have I been so stupid?
“You’ve found her, didn’t you?” I ask as the realization hits me, already knowing the answer to my question. It took him three years to even talk about the subject, which means he’s saying goodbye to a part of him from the past. A chapter he didn’t close correctly. A small smile takes over the frown that was previously on his lips.
His reflective sunglasses stare right at me as he says, “Yes.”
Another pain aches in my chest.
“It’s the redhead, isn’t it?” This time, his response is a small nod. I close my eyes as an intense feeling washes over me. Letting out a breath before I open them again slowly, I already know that a tear might slip out as they begin to water. My response is a simple nod, knowing that every word that could possibly come out of my mouth would lead to a full-on panic attack. Once I see a sense of recognition fill his eyes, I turn around, walking up the steps and down the ones that lead to the garage.
Keeping my tears in, I navigate through the pack of people spread out and eventually find the paddock. Distracting myself, I saunter toward the parking lot as fast as my legs can possibly take me. The echo of my own footsteps blocks out any noise until I reach a point where I can’t hold my tears back any longer. Checking my surroundings, I notice no one is close enough to see me cry.
So I let go in the middle of a parking lot, a few steps away from my car. My knees hit the ground and I begin to cry. Stifling my sobs as I bawl like someone I love has just passed away.
In a way, a part of me has died, my younger self.
I am mourning the words I wanted to hear for so many years. They feel like a slap in the face as my vision blurs, and I hold my chest, feeling my heart breaking into pieces I don’t know how to put back together.
* * *
After what feels like hours,I finally make it to my car in one piece. Thankfully, there wasn’t anyone in the parking lot to witness the heartbreak León has put me through.
In a way, I’m thankful for what he said to me, but no one is prepared for the pain you experience when your first love moves on with someone that isn’t you.
A few tears still fall as I collect the things I have for Ale. After closing and locking my green Mini Cooper, I check my reflection in the window and wipe away any remaining tears, attempting to make myself presentable. I hold flowers along with a big sign in one hand and a huge bag filled with Ale’s favorite things in the other.
I had picked up a few of her go-to candy options and a very special object from an auction that was held a few days ago. I wanted to find this one piece in particular that reminded me of her. It’s a little statue of the Aztec goddess of storms,Atlacamani. I had been eyeing it for weeks now. After searching hours and hours of online threads, I saw it was up for auction. Originally made from jade crafted by the Aztecs themselves. It was part of a private collection curated by one of Mexico’s biggest personalities, and I had to get it for her.
After battling with theMuseo Nacional de Antropologíafor it, I got it. I paid way too much for this statue. But it felt perfect for Ale, and I knew it would be a fantastic addition to her personal collection.
I make my way into the paddock, trying to only focus on my best friend. I will never let a man, let alone her brother, ruin my surprise for her today.
I get lost several times before seeing Lucia on her phone as she waits outside of a large black building with the word Elektra in big, bold letters hanging from the outside.
“Lucia,” I shout, trying to get her attention. She smiles in my direction.
“I’ve been looking for you. I went back to your seats, but Ale’s brother said you were walking to your car.” Her eyes fill with questions, probably knowing that it is at most a five-minute walk to the parking lot.
“Sorry, I got kind of lost. I didn’t know where to go.” I chuckle awkwardly.
“Well, you’re here now. Ale just headed to the garage to start her pre-race ritual. The race starts in forty minutes,” she says and I smile in relief. Apparently, my breakdown made the timing just right.
“Perfect! Remind me again where to set this all up.” I look down at the array of clutter in my hands. Realization spreads across her face, and she proceeds to quickly lead me through automatic black doors that open into a fancy building. It will always astound me how fast and fancy F1 travels. They set all of this up on the paddock before practices one and two, which within itself is impressive. Then they have to set up eleven more, starting off with Elektra, the reigning world champion.
We walk through a lunch space where I see team members eating. I try to reel in my questions, attempting not to be that annoying tourist. I wonder how many people work for a F1 team because holy crap, there are a lot of people in one building for just a single team.
In tennis, it’s me, my coach, occasionally a hitting partner, and the organizers. That’s about it. But, I mean, I am the only vessel in the sport, so it kind of makes sense.
Making it to our final destination, Lucia walks me up to a small room with a beige couch that has two glass walls separating the tiny room and the one right next to it from each other.
“You can set up your stuff here. Ale comes here after the races and podiums.” I nod and give her a brief thank you, beginning to set down the stuff on the sofa.
“Also, just so you know, Xavier is in the cubicle right next to you, getting in the zone. He probably has his headphones at full volume, so he won’t be able to hear you. But just in case, keep the volume at a minimum,” Lucia says in a whisper.
“Got it,” I respond before she turns to walk away.
