Chapter 150: Guarded Distance
Nico
I had done everything in my power to keep my distance from Alaric, just as he had asked.
In the beginning, I tried calling him, texting him, leaving voice notes—desperately trying to reach across the rift between us. But he refused to speak to me. Every single attempt was met with a wall of silence.
Eventually, I realized he was still trying to process everything I had dumped on him that night, so I stopped reaching out and gave him space.
I put on a mask and pretended everything was fine.
I skipped optional media briefings, minimized my time in the paddock, and did whatever it took to avoid a confrontation.
Yet, no matter how hard I tried to lock my feelings away, every night ended the exact same way—with me staring at my phone, endlessly scrolling through our private photos and checking the secret, hidden account we had created together just to document our relationship away from the world’s eyes.
Now, the race was over, I had taken P1, and yet here we were. He had me pinned against the wall in a shadowed alcove, staring at me with those intense, wild hazel eyes as if he hadn’t been the one running from me for the past ten days.
"Are you going to be mad at me forever?" he asked softly, his tone dripping with a deep, heavy regret that tore through my chest.
I didn’t answer right away. I tried to pull back and look away, but Alaric reached up and cupped my chin, his warm fingers forcing my eyes to stay locked onto his.
"What do you want from me, Alaric?" I asked, my voice flat despite the storm raging inside me. "You asked me to stay away from you, yet here you are, backing me into a corner trying to talk."
Alaric let out a shaky, deep sigh. "I messed up, alright? I regret everything I said that night, which is why I am standing here right now trying to fix it. Are you really not even going to let me talk to you?"
I slowly shook my head, fighting the urge to lean into his touch. "You walked out on me without giving me a single chance to explain, Alaric," I said quietly. "You told me not to follow you, and then you spent a week and a half completely ignoring my calls and texts. I spent days worrying about us, but then I realized... maybe you just needed your space. I wanted to give you your moment on the track without bringing our drama into it."
As the words left my mouth, my heart ached. I could see the raw, unshielded sadness shining in his hazel eyes, and every instinct inside me screamed to wrap my arms around his waist, pull him tight against my chest, and tell him how agonizingly much I had missed him. But I forced myself to hold back.
If we just swept this under the rug without actually resolving the core issue of trust and communication between us, we were bound to destroy each other later.
"So... are you breaking up with me? Is that what this is?" Alaric asked slowly, his voice dropping into a soft, fragile whisper that cracked right at the end.
"I..." I tried to speak, but the breath caught in my throat, my own voice breaking under the weight of his question.
A part of me wanted to instantly take it all back, tell him it was forgotten, and kiss him right there. But we desperately needed to handle this properly if our relationship was ever going to survive the pressure of our lives.
"Don’t you love me anymore?" he asked, his eyes searching mine frantically. "Are you just going to keep ignoring me? What if I..."
He trailed off, but I gently shook my head. "Alaric, please..."
"I was wrong, and I am so sorry, Nico," he blurted out, stepping even closer until there was no air left between us. "I just want to talk to you. I miss us. I miss our banter, the way you call me ’princess’, your touch... everything. Are we really never going to speak again? I made a massive mistake, and I am so sorry for how I reacted. Please try to understand that I panicked... I couldn’t help myself, and I thought I was doing what was best for us, and I..."
He choked on his words, his chest heaving as his heart raced frantically against mine.
Exhausted and overwhelmed, Alaric let his forehead fall forward, resting it heavily against my shoulder as he let out a shuddering sigh. "I just want to be with you this week," he whispered softly into the crook of my neck.
I squeezed my eyes shut, steeling my resolve before speaking in a measured, cool tone. "I have plans for the weekend, Alaric."
Alaric slowly lifted his head, a small, sad, self-deprecating laugh escaping his lips. "Alright... what about after that?"
"We have practice laps coming up," I replied, keeping my expression guarded. "Focus on driving."
Alaric let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head as he looked at me. "You’re punishing me for what happened that night, aren’t you? Yeah... I can see it now."
Without waiting for another response, he pulled his hand away from my chin, turned around, and began walking down the quiet corridor.
Every part of my soul wanted to sprint after him, grab his hand, and pull him back into my arms. But my own stubbornness—and the harsh reality of our situation—kept my boots glued to the floor.
Only when his footsteps completely faded and he disappeared around the corner did I lose my composure. I turned around and slammed my fist hard against the concrete wall, the sharp pain in my knuckles grounding me.
I had a damn good reason for pushing him away today, even if it was killing me.
Just a few days ago, my teammate Ethan had caught me trying to find a way to contact Alaric privately.
Ethan had pulled me aside and given me a stern, harsh warning about the press, pointing out how sloppy I was being and how one slip-up would blow both of our careers to pieces. Ethan’s words had terrified me, forcing me into a panic about keeping Alaric safe from the media storm.
Standing alone in the dark alcove, listening to the distant roar of the post-race crowd, a deep, heavy sigh escaped my chest.
I leaned my head back against the cold wall, staring up at the ceiling.
"I’m sorry, Alaric..." I whispered into the empty hallway, the words swallowed by the silence.