Pole Position: Between Logic and Passion

Distance

He blinked, confused. Like he genuinely didn’t understand. God—how innocent could he pretend to be?

“Well,” I continued, crossing my arms tighter, “you can have all the space you want, Charles. I will schedule my extremely overdue vacation.” I tilted my head slightly, watching the way his expression shifted. “So I’ll be gone for the next fifteen days. Think that’s enough time for you to figure out what the hell you want from me?”

There was a beat of silence between us—thick, electric, almost painful.

He opened his mouth like he might say something, but I was already turning to leave.

He grabbed my arm before I could walk away. Not rough, but firm. Desperate.

“You’re going to miss Monaco race?” he asked, eyes wide like he couldn’t believe it.

I stared at him, cold. “That’s all you care about?” I said, yanking my arm free from his grip.

“No…” he stepped in again, hands moving to my waist like he was afraid I might disappear. “Amy, why are you doing this?”

I didn’t answer—not with words. I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, scrolled to the message, and shoved it gently into his hands.

Arthur’s name at the top of the screen. The texts right there in plain sight. The truth staring back at him.

His eyes moved across the screen slowly. His brows drew in.

And I stood there, arms crossed, heart pounding, watching every second of realization unfold on his face.

He looked up from the screen, eyes searching mine, flickering between confusion and something raw—maybe guilt, maybe regret.

"Amy .... I .... " He didn't know what to say. How could he? He didn't have any excuses for this.

I grab my phone back and turn away from him.

I felt his steps quicken behind me, closing the small distance as I kept walking without looking back.

“Amy, wait,” he said, voice strained, unsure. “Please, just—let me explain.”

But I didn’t stop. The weight in my chest tightened, a mix of frustration and exhaustion pulling me forward.

After a few more steps, I finally glanced over my shoulder, eyes sharp. “I’m listening,” I said quietly, but there was steel beneath my words.

He swallowed hard, his face tightening. But then, he shook his head slightly, like the words just wouldn’t come.

He didn’t know how to explain.

“Have a good time, Charles,” I said, voice cold but steady. “Hope it’s a good few days.”

He let out a long breath, like he’d been holding it in for far too long. Then, quietly, almost vulnerable, he said, “I needed to find out who I am when I’m not with you. I just wanted to know if everything I feel for you is real... or if it’s just proximity, intimacy, and being used to be all the time together.”

Tears slipped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I felt raw, exposed—like everything I’d been holding back was spilling out all at once.

He took a step closer, reaching out gently. “Amy…”

But I stepped back, shaking my head, wiping my face roughly.

"I... I messed up. I should’ve been honest with you from the start. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” he whispered

I shook my head again, feeling the weight of everything between us. “Honesty would’ve helped a lot. But this—” I gestured between us “—

My voice broke, and I couldn’t finish without choking on my own tears.