Chapter Text
What does this even mean? Lewis pointed to a particular line of values on the report. It sided with some medical terms that were intelligible to outsiders, but clearly, the numbers there exceeded the referenced normal range. “I was just about to mention that.” Her facial expression indicated the situation was rather serious.
“Are you still in contact with your Alpha?”
“We're divorced...well, separated. We've been separated for many years.”
“Can you tell me roughly what happened?”
“We were seventeen... or eighteen, both very young when we permanently bonded.” As he spoke, he released the lace sleeve he had been twisting and instead fidgeted with the brand-new cocktail ring on his middle finger, the black diamond sparkling under the artificial sunlight lamp. It seemed as if just reviewing this past marriage made him uncomfortable. “We weren't married, but under Monegasque law, somehow it counts as a common-law marriage.”
“De facto? So you separated later, but were you unable to undergo the removal surgery due to your career?”
“I suppose so. Yes.” He answered both questions.
“Ah, so legally, you cannot divorce. If you truly want to sever ties, his side could choose to file for divorce—never mind, no need to answer, we are not legal counselling here.”
Lewis couldn’t muster a smile at the attempt to lighten the mood.
“Your medical records state you’ve been separated since 2017. Have you had any sexual encounters with your Alpha since then? ”
He hated this. Despite having separated, due to the bond, Nico Rosberg remained as “his,” like an indelible part of him, like the name engraved on the championship trophy after two consecutive titles, like a permanent mark on the side of his neck.
Yes.
He reluctantly admitted.
“How often?”
“Maybe a few times a year? All outside of the heat cycle. So, is this a serious issue? How concerned should I be about my health?”
“I don’t know if your previous doctor warned you, but adjusting the heat cycle with medication comes at a cost.”
“I know. But in my case, where I can’t remove the mark, this is the only option I have.” He tries to stay calm:
“This year, you’ll have a very long heat cycle, and it will be painful.” The doctor chose her words carefully: “This is a side effect of adjusting the medication. I can’t guarantee you’ll be able to...When is the first race after summer break?”
“September, early September.”
“You should contact your Alpha and have him help you through your heat cycle, like other couples do.”
“That’s impossible.” He replied without a blink or any second thought. “Is there any other way?”
“Of course, there are many medical interventions applicable to your case, but for the most part, they all have impacts that may affect athletic performance to some extent. I recall you mentioned earlier that you wouldn’t consider any long-term solutions. Have you changed your stance? If not, I still recommend that you contact your Alpha. As soon as possible.”
He took the elevator to the underground parking lot. Angela was waiting for him in a Mercedes SUV from her garage, much more lowkey than any of Lewis’s cars:
“Are you okay? ”Angela asked.
Lewis’s face was clearly paler, expression still and dull. He sighed, unsure how to begin— Angela patted his arm. It’s okay, we’ll talk about it later. I’ll take you home first.
At the crossroad, Lewis finally lifted his gaze from the glove compartment and met Angela's eyes in the rearview mirror: “The doctor recommended I go to Nico for this year’s heat, said that I should ask him for help.”
Oh, okay. Angela said, “I understand how you feel. What are you planning to do? Should you go to contact him?”
No, Ang. I'm sorry, but I don't think you'd understand how I felt. Lewis rolled down the window halfway to let some fresh air breathe into the car: “I'd rather jump into the sea.”
Nico found his ex-wife in the elevator.
“Found” wasn't quite accurate. Living in the same building, they often crossed paths in the elevator, but they'd just stand awkwardly in opposite corners. Lewis would break the silence first, asking, “How are you?” He'd reply, “Fine, thanks. You?” Lewis would say he was fine too. If he tried to keep the conversation going, Lewis would wrap it up with the quickest conclusion, not really mind the decency when only Nico was with him.
“I thought you didn't drink.” He braced himself against the elevator doorframe, tone drifting as his gaze locked onto Lewis, who sat on the floor, arms lazily hugging his knees.
Lewis glanced up at the bystander, he had recognized him in less than a second by voice alone. He pulled his cap brim down to hide his eyes and leaned back against the steel wall of the elevator. “Hadn't drunk,” he said.
The faint vanilla scent that was usually hidden beneath his cologne now filled the space unabashedly. Nico lingered at the entrance for way too long, and the elevator emitted its regular warning chime.
Stepping into the confined space saturated with Omega scent, he pressed the close button and the one for the top floor. “Why not just go home?”
“I'm not feeling well. Leave me alone, I’d just rest a bit,” Lewis replied, his voice sounding weak.
Nico sat beside him. The scent already hinted at the situation. “Didn’t you schedule your heat to coincide with summer break?”
“None of your business.” Nico received this sharp retort. He swallowed the defiant retort that rose instinctively, and spoke as gently as he could: “Got it. I'll take you home first. Let’s not stay here anymore.”
He stood up and pressed Lewis's floor again. As the elevator doors opened, he hesitated for a second about whether to just pick Lewis up—no, better not. He refused to risk dropping his favorite active F1 driver. Kneeling carefully, he let Lewis wrap one arm around him: “Come on up.”
After settling Lewis on the sofa, he went to the kitchen to get him some water. It was late at night; he heard Roscoe sleeping soundly in his little bed. Nico skipped the ice maker, grabbing only a bottle of mineral water from the fridge.
Nico stood before Lewis, unsure if he’d fallen asleep. He looked like he’d just stepped off a yacht party, wearing a beige off-shoulder sweater and white denim wide-leg pants, silk-like fabric pliant and smooth against his skin. Given his usual style, this outfit was surprisingly conservative.
Except he’d paired it with a pair of high-heeled boots.
Hot. But could you at least protect your ankles? Nico commented, though it sounded more like a muttered complaint. He placed the water on the square tea table beside the sofa, arranging it neatly alongside Lewis’s hat and phone.
In this regard, he resembled the stereotypical German, while Lewis took it to an almost obsessive-compulsive level. He recalled their hotel rooms during past competitions and couldn’t help but smile.
Lew... His finger gently stroked through Lewis's braid, but only for a brief moment. He wasn’t sure what he truly wanted. “I'm leaving now. Take care of yourself.”
Nico slowly walking toward the door, ignoring the increasingly tempting scent of vanilla. This was just another game between them, no different from before—a game they both played to win.
Ten seconds. Maybe longer. Nico. His ex-wife called out, his voice muffled. He withdrew his left hand from the doorknob, clenching and unclenching it slightly to ensure his hand wouldn't tremble once he turned away to face him.