My Formula 1 System-Chapter 639: Old Pal–New Pal

In Luca’s house, Laura restlessly moved from window to window, anxiously waiting for Luca’s return with Rodnick. She didn’t expect this visit to give her this much anxiety, cold, and prickling to the skin.

Some minutes ago, over the phone, her mother assured her it was right for her to feel this way. After all, none of this concerned her. Formula 1 had been Ansel’s career, not hers. The absence of Ansel in the presence of F1 elements ought to suffocate her. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

Hopefully, Rodnick wouldn’t speak in sophisticated jargon and unnecessary complexities that felt like a language designed to exclude her. Laura had had enough of that. It was one of the very few things she disliked about Ansel. He made her resent the game so much that she barely watched any race at all.

And that was the fundamental difference with Luca.

It’s a rare thing to find a man who can spend his day at two hundred miles an hour and still come home without letting the adrenaline bleed into his dinner conversation.

Luca had mastered the art of compartmentalization, and it indirectly kept Laura safe in a world of domestic peace while she remained aware that, somewhere out of sight, he was handling bigger problems.

However, this made Laura wonder just how much Luca was handling. Apparently, over the past two days, she had heard new things that kept her curiosity unextinguished.

Turning away from the window, Laura headed for the stairs. As she passed the living area, she paused briefly to check on Martin; he was perfectly content, buried in a fortress of cushions and toys in the center of the rug.

Satisfied, she continued upward at a steady pace until she slowed at a specific door at the end of the hall. With a simple turn of the handle, she pushed it open, stepping into the empty room.

The room was neat, a masterclass in understated luxury with its expansive bed and bespoke décor, yet the undisturbed air made it clear no one had slept here yet. Laura stood in the doorway, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she surveyed the space.

"A queen’s welcome for a girl who’s just passing through," she murmured, comparing the nice room to her own visitor’s quarters downstairs.

Isabella was coming to Germany, and Laura didn’t like it one bit.

She had spent weeks meticulously rebuilding her presence in Luca’s life, a slow, calculated labor of emotional proximity, and now the prospect of Isabella being in the same house threatened a total setback.

Looking at the plush linens and the superior view of the room, the message was devastatingly clear: despite Laura’s efforts, Isabella remained at the summit of Luca’s priorities.

~~~~~

The visit didn’t turn out to be as Laura had feared. The two men, Luca and Rodnick, were smooth, and they wasted no time.

Earlier, Luca had advised Rodnick not to mention the word "apology" or frame this as a penance. Just the fact that he was present to see to Martin’s well-being mattered more—and showed he cared—more than any words would. And it worked perfectly.

Rodnick had originally intended to speak heavily of his regrets, explain how the doping drugs had warped his judgment, and how his former self was a stranger to him.

How that could have backfired.

In response, Laura lowered her defenses, becoming kinder and sweeter. "Check-ins would be lovely," she said with a sincere smile, expressing her happiness to cooperate with the idea of future visits. "It’s good for all of us to have a bit of continuity."

Laura was also thankful for the thoughtfulness behind the gifts. She found a calming peace in the task of rehoming the fish as she transferred them into separate containers, placing the fantail into Luca’s self-made terrarium.

Martin’s gift was much better. Rodnick had brought a Bright-Start play-tunnel and geometric climbers. It was the perfect gift for a seven-month-old who was just beginning to learn how to crawl.

As they set it up on the thick rug, Martin stared at it apprehensively until his mother carried him forward and placed a complementary wrist rattle onto his lap basket. Moments later, his small hands had begun reaching out, exploring the varied textures of the toys.

Watching the boy navigate his new obstacle course, Luca and Rodnick were reminded that the most important things in life were actually the most basic: family, health, and longevity.

Luca studied Rodnick’s face, trying to catch a flicker of something familiar. He remembered the boisterous family Rodnick had showcased at his first gala. Now, he wondered if the sight of Martin was stirring an urge for fatherhood within the man—because Luca had to admit that same feeling had been increasing in intensity within himself for months now.

After some time, both men stepped out, but instead of heading straight to the car, they detoured around the perimeter of the property. Their conversation shifted to the paddock, specifically the fallout of the South African Grand Prix and Luigi’s "incredible" win.

Rodnick didn’t even bother denying the reality. He watched the race, and he saw the little game clearly. Although the move was smart and still legal, Rodnick didn’t like it. It was a dangerous game, because if the grid’s frontrunner began formalized teaming, the midfield would become a bloodbath.

Squadra Corse and Velox were only getting away with it because of the massive performance gap between them; there was no ego at play. It was a stark contrast to other "siblings" like Velocità and Outback, who were both too massive and proud to cooperate, or Trampos and Jackson, who functioned more like bitter rivals than partners under the same umbrella.

If all cards were laid out, it’s basically a war that Squadra Corse would win.

Which is exactly why they started it.

Speaking of bitter rivals, Luca hoped no paparazzi lens had captured him and Rodnick together at the water park. He didn’t have the energy for a media firestorm: A Jackson rebel and a Trampos star moving like old brothers.

It would look like a conspiracy to a public that still remembered the jagged edges of last season’s drama.

Which led Luca to confront a deep, unanswered question.

Was Rodnick still a Formula 1 driver?

As they walked further, nearing a quiet creek on the neighbor’s property, Luca noticed Rodnick was actually leading the way. He walked with his hands buried deep in his pockets, a heavy, slugging gait that lacked the usual athletic snap.

When Luca looked at his side, he caught the bobbing of his throat and a glimmer of held-back tears at the edge of his eye.

Luca swallowed hard as he realized.

Rodnick was a man grieving for the life he had lost.

Without a word, Luca draped an arm around his shoulder as they continued their silent march.