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.
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.
