Chapter 33 Intimate Distance
INTIMATE DISTANCE
When I got back to my rented flat after work on a weekday in the middle of August, there was a package waiting. I didn’t recognize the company, and I hadn’t ordered anything.
I carried it upstairs, opened it carefully, and found myself staring at a very realistic dildo and a phone stand.
My phone buzzed immediately.
JONATHAN: Package arrive?
WALDO: Is this what I think it is?
JONATHAN: Depends. Are you thinking “incredibly thoughtful gift from boyfriend who misses you”?
WALDO: I was thinking “evidence I’ll have to disclose to Thea.”
JONATHAN: You’re not seriously going to tell your editor about your sex toys.
WALDO: The guardrails say I disclose personal contact. I’m pretty sure this counts.
JONATHAN: Then lie and say it’s a coffee grinder. FaceTime later?
I screenshot the exchange and stared at it for a long moment before forwarding it to Thea: Disclosure - August 15. J. Hirsch sent personal gift. No professional boundary issues.
Her response: I don’t need details. Carry on.
That evening, when Jonathan’s FaceTime request came through, I answered with the phone propped on the stand.
“Hey,” I said.
“One minute,” he said, and I watched him position his phone similarly.
What followed was an hour of reconnection that felt both intensely intimate and oddly disconnected. I felt my pulse in my throat, and I was aware of my own body in a way that made the space between us impossible to ignore.
It wasn’t the same as being together, but it was something. A reminder that what we had was worth the separation, worth the complications.
Afterward, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling simultaneously closer to him and more aware of the distance.
JONATHAN: That was wild.
WALDO: Think how much better it will be in person.
JONATHAN: I love you, Waldo.
WALDO: I love you too.
The words hung in the dark after the call ended.
We’d circled them before, joked around them, but hearing them said so plainly felt like stepping onto solid ground I hadn’t known I was missing.
For a moment I let myself stay there, suspended between the warmth of it and the knowledge of what came next.
Screenshot. Forward. Disclosure - August 15 evening. Extended video call with J. Hirsch. Personal/intimate nature.
Received.
The guardrails felt invasive in moments like this. But they were also the reason I still had the job that let me follow him around the world.
Fair trade, I told myself. Even when it didn’t feel fair at all.
August 18th - Restless
By the third week of August, both of us were restless. Jonathan’s texts carried an edge of frustration with the endless technical meetings and simulator sessions. My own work at Apex was productive but felt incomplete without the immediacy of race weekends.
“Two more weeks until Zandvoort,” he said during one of our late-night calls. “This break is too long.”
“Getting bored with family time?”
“Getting bored without you.” He shifted on camera, and I could see he was in a different room now, in what looked like a home office. “I’ve been thinking about us. About how we’re handling this. “
“Okay…” I said carefully, recognizing the tone that meant he’d been processing something serious.
“The guardrails are working. We’re being transparent with Thea, you’re covering me fairly, better than fairly, actually. The Siripanit piece proved that.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is that I’m tired of pretending our relationship is something we have to hide.
I’m tired of careful choreography and disclosed text messages and worrying about who sees us together.
” He ran a hand through his hair. “Waldo, outside of racing, this relationship is the most important thing in my life. And I don’t want to keep treating it like a secret. ”
My stomach tightened. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying maybe we should stop hiding. Come out publicly. Let people know we’re together.”
I stared at the screen, processing what he’d just suggested. “Jonathan, that’s… that’s a huge step. Have you thought about what that means?”
“I’ve thought about little else for the past week.”
“What about sponsors? The team? Your father?”
“Dad already knows and approves. The team…” He shrugged. “Meridian’s progressive enough. And sponsors care about results, not who I’m sleeping with.”
“You’re assuming a lot of tolerance from a very traditional sport.”
“Maybe. But there are out athletes in almost every sport now. Rugby, football, even motorsport, there are out drivers in other series. Why not Formula 1?”
“Because Formula 1 is different. More conservative, more image-conscious, more…” I trailed off, trying to find words. “Jonathan, if you come out, you’ll be the first active F1 driver to do so. That’s not just personal, it’s political. It’s a statement. “
“I know. And maybe it’s time someone made that statement.”
I could see the determination in his face, the same focus he brought to racing. But this wasn’t a track where he could control variables and perfect his line.
“What about me?” I asked quietly. “What about my career? If you come out and everyone knows I’m your boyfriend, how does that affect my credibility as a journalist?”
He went still. “I hadn’t thought about that.”
“The guardrails with Thea work because it’s a private arrangement. She knows, she monitors it, it’s handled. But if it’s public? Every article I write about you becomes suspect. Every interview, every piece of coverage. People will assume I’m biased, that I can’t be objective.”
“You’ve proven you can be objective.”
“To Thea. To a few colleagues. But to the entire motorsport press corps? To readers?” I shook my head. “Jonathan, coming out would end my ability to cover you professionally. Maybe end my ability to cover F1 at all.”
The silence stretched between us, heavy with implications neither of us had fully considered.
“What do we do?” he asked finally.
“I don’t know. But we can’t make this decision in a video call two weeks before the season starts again.” I tried to soften my tone. “This deserves real conversation. Face to face.”
“I have a few days before I need to be in Zandvoort,” he said. “Elena mentioned she could arrange something private. Maybe Greece? A few days, just us, where we can talk this through?”
“A secret vacation to discuss not being secret anymore?”
“The irony isn’t lost on me.” He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But I think we need this, Waldo. Time together, away from all of it, to figure out what we want.”
I thought about Thea’s guardrails, about disclosing a vacation with Jonathan, about the optics of disappearing to Greece together during the summer break.
But he was right. We needed this conversation. And we needed to have it in person.
“Okay. Send me the details.”
“Elena will handle everything. Tickets, villa, complete privacy.” He looked relieved. “Four days. No paddock, no press, no guardrails. Just us.”
August 22nd - Planning
The logistics came together quickly once Elena took over.
Flights booked: London to Mykonos on the 22nd, Mykonos to Amsterdam on the 26th.
A private villa on the quieter side of the island, owned by a discretion-focused luxury company that catered to celebrities and athletes who needed to disappear.
JONATHAN: Can’t wait to see you. Properly see you, without having to worry about who’s watching.
WALDO: Four days. Then back to reality.
JONATHAN: Four days to figure out what we want our reality to look like.
I packed light, summer clothes, sunscreen, the confidence that we could figure this out face to face.
The anticipation was almost unbearable, three weeks of separation about to end in complete privacy, away from the paddock scrutiny and professional obligations that had defined our relationship since Monaco.
For four days, we could just be ourselves. No careful choreography, no screenshots and disclosures, no consideration of how our relationship looked to colleagues or affected our careers.
We’d be free to explore what we’d been building in the shadows of the Formula 1 circus.
The Greek islands beckoned, promising sun and privacy and the chance to have the conversation we’d been avoiding since Spa: not just whether we could make this work, but whether going public was worth the cost it would exact from both our careers.
I had four days to decide if I was ready to be known as Jonathan Hirsch’s boyfriend — and whether that was a role I wanted to claim or a trap I needed to escape.
I didn’t tell Thea we were going to Mykonos. I noticed the omission and let it stand.