Chapter 10
The Safest Place
I always thought peace was impossible for me. Something that existed only for other people.
Normal people.
Not sons of men like my father.
My entire life was built on speed, pressure, and demands. Everything came packaged with expectations, results, comparisons, and noise.
Until Maxine.
She crashed into my life like a collision—violent and unexpected. And somehow, absurdly, she became the calmest place I’ve ever known.
We returned to Paris two days after the Barcelona GP. That night, Maxine was barefoot in the kitchen, wearing one of my t-shirts while she twisted her hair into a messy knot on top of her head.
I watched it all from my spot on the counter. The way she read the wine label. The distracted way she stirred the pasta sauce. How she hummed softly without realizing it.
Small things.
Normal things.
But they hit me in the most ridiculous way.
“Are you going to keep staring at me, or do you plan to help?” she asked without even looking back.
“I’m admiring my future wife.”
She let out a soft laugh.
“You’ve turned into a house cat.”
“And you keep stealing my clothes.”
“Technically, half of them are mine now.”
I smiled to myself.
She was right, and that didn’t scare me anymore.
Quite the opposite.
For the first time in my life, sharing space with someone felt natural.
Necessary, even.
I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist while Maxine finished dinner.
I buried my face in her neck. Her scent was my greatest addiction.
Flowers, vanilla, and home.
“You’re quiet today,” she murmured.
“I’m thinking.”
“That never ends well.”
I laughed softly against her skin.
“Do you think we’ll have kids?”
She turned her face partway toward me—not surprised, just contemplative.
As if that question had been hanging between us for a while.
“I think so,” she answered softly. “Do you want to?”
I tightened my arms around her waist.
“I do.”
The answer came out too fast. Because it was true—I wanted everything with her.
Everything.
Maxine turned off the stove before finally facing me in my arms.
“How many?”
“About six, maybe.”
Her eyes went wide.
“Adrien.”
“What? I have a lot of love to give.”
“You can barely survive taking care of your own towels.”
“That’s slander.”
She laughed again.
And damn…
I lived for that sound now.
I brought my hand slowly to her face.
“I want a girl first.”
Maxine raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve already planned that out too?”
“She’ll have your eyes.”
Her expression shifted instantly.
“And your irritating temperament,” she added.
“Oh, so she’ll be perfect.”
“Poor kid.”
I smiled before kissing her slowly.
We had dinner on the balcony that night. Paris glittered before us while the warm summer wind drifted through the apartment.
Maxine sipped her wine while I watched the city lights.
“Are you scared?” she asked suddenly.
I looked over at her.
“Of what?”
“All of this.”
She gestured between us.
Relationship.
Engagement.
Future.
The entire life we were starting to build.
I let out a slow breath.
“Sometimes.”
She stayed silent, waiting.
She always did that—never pressured me. I ran a hand through my hair before answering.
“I think there’s still a part of me waiting for things to go wrong.”
Her eyes softened instantly.
“Because of him?”
I nodded.
She didn’t need to ask which one.
My father had taken up too much space in my head for years.
“I spent so much time trying to prove I deserved to be here that I don’t think I know how to exist anymore without needing to prove something.”
My voice came out lower than I intended.
“When I was a kid, everything felt like a test. Every race. Every victory. Every failure.”
Maxine didn’t look away once.
“And with you…” I let out a humorless laugh. “With you was the first time I felt like someone actually saw me without needing me to be perfect.”
She rose slowly from her chair and came to me.
Her warm hands cupped my face.
“Adrien… you never needed to be perfect for me.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
Because that still completely undid me.
“You changed everything, Max.”
She caressed my face slowly.
“No.”
I opened my eyes again.
“Yes, you did.”
My throat tightened.
“You made this place here”—I touched my own chest—“stop feeling like a war all the time.”
Her eyes lit up instantly, and it was so beautiful that I had to kiss her before I could say anything else.
Maxine slid onto my lap seconds later as I wrapped my arms around her waist.
We stayed like that for a while.
Just listening to the city.
Just breathing together.
“You know what the worst part is?” I murmured.
“Hm?”
“Now that I’ve found this… you… I don’t think I’ll ever survive without it.”
She gave a small smile against my lips.
“Dramatic.”
“Very.”
“Emotionally dependent.”
“Obsessively, love.”
Her laugh vibrated against my mouth.
Then she rested her forehead against mine and said softly,
“Good thing I don’t know how to exist without you anymore, either.”
And there on that balcony. With all of Paris shining around us and the woman I loved in my arms, I realized something simple:
I spent years looking for a place in the world. But the safest place I ever found was never a track.
It was beside her.