Meeting Fabio's family was a little awkward. They are really sweet but a little reserved. Especially Marion. I understand she doesn't want some stranger around her kids, so I keep my distance. Fabio and Tom are surfing and Mathilde, Marion and Louane are out in the water as well. I'm lounging around, writing in my journal.
"Are you enjoying this?", Fabio's mother sits down next to me.
"Yes, thank you Madame Quartararo"
"You can just call me Martine. Are you healing good after your surgery", she asks concerned.
"Yes I am. I have a checkup and scans in about a week. So then I'll know for sure"
"That's good. Etienne told me, he never saw Fabio so worried and not focused on his riding. It scared us a lot when he fell twice", my chest tightens at her words. So I really am responsible for his crashes.
"You know, I don't think it's good for Fabio", she continues, "He needs to relax and enjoy his time off, between races. He needs to be able to unwind and not constantly worry about his sick girlfriend", she says. It sounds harsh, but I don't think she means it like that. She wants what's best for him and that's all that matters to her.
I nod, "I understand"
She smiles at me before standing up again and going to her husband.
I understand what she's saying and even though I don't like it, I agree. This won't be good for Fabio on the long run. He won't win another title like this.
We are nowhere near the coast so I act happy the next two days. Fabio and I cuddle at night and during the days he's spending most of his time with his niece and nephew. It's cute to see and I snap a few photos of him when he isn't looking. I barely sleep at night, but I don't really think anyone notices the bags under my eyes. I try my best to hide them with makeup every morning.
I try to write the happy things down. The happy feelings, so I can remember all the good things. I write about the cuddling we do, the kissing, how looking at him makes me feel. How he sometimes looks at me. Things like that. I want to remember it. I don't want to remember the way his mother made me feel with her words. Or how unwelcome I feel when they don't talk to me during dinner or forget I'm here when they take pictures. I wanted to cry when they got everyone together for a group photo and only asked if I wanted to make it, instead of joining in. But I get how his mother doesn't want me in it.
Although I don't want to remember, I need to write about it to get it out of my head. Maybe I could just throw away those pages. Or eventually throw away the whole journal. It's not like I want to be reminded of Fabio after we are done.
"Isn't that journal full by now?", Tom sits down next to me on Friday morning, we are getting back to the coast and then it's done, thankfully.
I smile softly. I'm glad Tom is doing better. Him and Mathilde are good again and he seems happy.
"I'm sorry we didn't really spend time together on this trip", he looks guilty.
"Oh, no. It's fine", I shake my head. "I enjoyed this trip", I say softly.
"Did you really? They just need to warm up to you, you know", he tries to make an excuse.
"It was fun. Fabio had a good time, you are happy again. So that's most important", I smile before closing my journal.
Tom hugs me, "We'll spend a lot more time together in Greece. I promise", he tells me and I just smile. He doesn't know I'm not coming to Greece and I don't tell him. He'll find out eventually.
I walk up to Fabio and his parents.
"Thank you for letting me join on this trip monsieur and madame Quartararo", I tell his parents, smiling.
"Thank you for listening to me and understanding me, Julie", his mother tells me, Fabio just walked away to get our luggage, so he doesn't hear her. I nod and turn around. I take my luggage from Fabio silently.
"I'll take you to the airport", he says, before helping me on solid ground again.
"Oh, you don't have to. I'll take a taxi. Go help your parents and say goodbye to everyone", I smile at him.
"I don't want you alone in Nice again", Fabio sighs, looking worried. This is what his mother meant.
"I didn't have any nightmares again, remember? So I'll manage", I smile. "Thank you for this trip. It was exactly what I needed", I softly kiss his cheek before turning around. Exactly what I needed to know that I don't fit in, with this family. That they don't want me be a part of it.
"Please call me when you are at the airport. And call me when you are in Madrid", he calls after me, and I turn my head to nod at him. I walk towards the taxi stand and get in the first one. Driving off.
The drive to the airport is short and before I know it, I'm through security and waiting at the gate.
I text Fabio and Tom I'm at the gate and everything's alright. Fabio calls me immediately, but I ignore it.
I send a quick text to Matteo, telling him what time I'm in Madrid. I bought a new journal as well. As soon as everything's over, I start over as well. Using my new journal to write about good feelings and good times, instead of everything involving Fabio.
It breaks my heart to think about ending our relationship. I really love him and can't let him go. But that's selfish. Tears form in my eyes and for the first time these past few days, I let them fall.
Why do I need to be this damaged? Maybe Fabio's mother wouldn't have a problem with me if I was a strong and independent woman. Who isn't sick, who isn't fragile. But I'm not that, and I probably never will be. She would approve of Clarisse, I'm sure of it. I saw them all in the pitbox in Barcelona, she already is family to them. Just like Tom and Mathilde are. I feel jealous, thinking about this.
The weekend spent in Madrid made me feel worse. Matteo and Marc are really like two teenagers in love. It's super sweet, and I'm really glad that all works out. But I feel worse for not having what they have. They want to be with each other the entire time, they feel a need to touch all the time. It makes me a little depressed.
Fabio and I text a lot and call a few times. The messages are all sweet and caring, the phone calls too. He tells me he misses me a lot and he tells me he loves me. Any outsider would think that we have the perfect relationship. I can tell by his voice and his messages that he has no idea about the conversation between his mother and me. Which makes me feel worse.
After helping Matteo with the plan for Marc's physical therapy, I fly to Andorra on Sunday night. I'm gonna pack all my stuff there and sleep there before taking a flight to the Netherlands on Monday. Fabio is in Nice by now and will be flying to Greece with Tony, Tom and Mathilde on Tuesday.
After packing everything and taking everything downstairs, I crawl in Fabio's bed one last time. I'm exhausted and it's the first time in more than a week that I'm sleeping in seconds.
"Julie?!", I wake up abruptly, someone screaming my name and a door being slammed. I don't know what time it is, but it feels like only minutes after I laid down.
The door opens and a distraught looking Fabio stands there, "Oh thank God, you're still here"
I rub my eyes, "Fabio?", I ask confused. What's he doing here? And why does it look like he has seen a ghost. "You were in Nice, you are going to Greece. Why are you here?", I try to make sense of this.
He looks around the room, seeing my suitcase standing in the corner. The rest of the room is neat. No clothes lying around, no journal, none of my stuff. Fabio's very neat, his room is not messy and he doesn't leave stuff behind. I do, the room was messy because of me.
"So you really are leaving?", his eyes look sad and he doesn't look at me. "Were you planning on telling me? Or would you just let me get back to an empty house?", He sounds sad and empty.
"I wasn't..", I say, I sit up to put my clothes on. "How did you figure it out?"
I didn't want it to end like this. Well I didn't want it to end at all.
"Why?", He asks, not answering my question.
"It's for the best..", is the only thing I can say. I try to keep strong, but I can't. It hurts too much.
"So you never really liked me", he says, I start hyperventilating at this point, sobbing really hard. I try to stand up, walk away, but my legs buckle beneath me and fall on my knees.
"I-I'm s.. I'm sorry.. I'm s-so so s-sorry", I try to get out.
Fabio kneels next to me, pulling me in his arms. "Ssshh.. breathe. Just breathe"
I relax in his arms and catch my breath.
"I'm sorry", I whisper after a while. "I really am. I just couldn't tell you. I wrote a letter in the back of my journal. I was planning on leaving that for you, for when you would come back from Greece", I try to explain. I am really tired. The not sleeping for the past week and all the stress is taking it's toll now.
"What did my mom say to you?", Fabio asks, his voice is soft and sad.
"I can't repeat it..", I let go of him and crawl over to my suitcase, taking the journal from the top. I open it on the right page and give it to him.
Dear Fabio,
My Fabio.. that's what you are, or were. And I was so proud of it. And maybe I was proud because I don't deserve you, I never did and never will.
You know.. since we came back from Barcelona together, I was really happy but I felt like you didn't want me to be apart of your holiday plans. You kept saying Tom wanted me joining you guys, not you. You were just fine with it. It kept me up at night. I don't think you noticed, that I was laying awake almost every night the whole night.
I don't know where you were Monday night, but I was sure you were with another girl. A better girl.
The nightmares in Nice weren't very helpful. Mostly because they weren't about Alex. It was about what he did, but in my dreams it was you instead of him. I was scared my body and mind couldn't handle the stress.
But my breakpoint was on the boat. I think we were just one hour on it, when your mom came to say some things.
I won't repeat it. I don't want to talk badly about your mother. But her message was that you need a strong, independent girl. And not a broken, sick girl, you'll worry about.
She's right. All you do is worry about me. That's not good. The boat trip was exactly what I needed to understand that I'm not the right girl for you. I don't fit it, I won't be accepted and you deserve better.
So that's it. When you read this, I'm home, at my own home. I quit my job and we won't see each other again. You don't know how much this hurts. But it's the only right thing.
I'll miss you, I'll always love you and will always follow you. You will win a lot more titles and I'll cheer you on.
Love, Julie