12. Aurélie #2
“I realize now he’s a narcissist,” I continued, taking a small sip of my wine, the crispness biting at my tongue and throat, a small comfort against my inner turmoil.
“I was so wrapped up in feeling wanted that I didn’t see it for what it was.
And when it ended, I was stuck. Drowning inF2. And I needed to surface—fast.”
“So you fought,”Callumsaid, his voice laced with admiration and understanding.
“I did. I reached out to other leagues—Formula E,IndyCar. I was willing to let go of myF1dream for the time being. I had meetings lined up, but they all wanted to see how I finished the season first. The championship was close with only three races left, and I knew I had to prove myself. So I pushed harder than I ever had before.” I could breathe easier now.
“That’s the thing about being told you’re not enough.
You either let it break you, or you prove them wrong. ”
I let out a shaky breath, the weight of those weeks pressing down on me even now. “But then… the last race happened.AbuDhabi.”
Callum’sbrow furrowed, his hand tightening slightly on mine.
“I won,” I said, the word almost bitter on my tongue.
“I won theF2championship, but I didn’t even get to celebrate.
A few hours later, my brother…” My voice cracked, and I turned away, wishing I had something to hold me together.
“étiennecrashed. I was in the paddock, watching it all unfold, and suddenly none of it mattered. Not the championship, not the future I was trying to build. Nothing.”
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.Callumdidn’t speak, didn’t rush me, and for that, I was grateful.
“Obviously, he survived,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “But he was done. Too scared to get back in the car. And thenLuminisapproached me.” I waved my hand in the air. “You know all of that and parts of the next, but not the truth behind it all.”
“You wouldn’t even have to finish the story for me to be on your side.”
I paused and blinked at him. “What?”
“You’re not a villain, love. Don’t convince yourself that you are.
You did earn your spot here, orHenricnever would’ve approached you.
F1is the pinnacle ofmotorsports. Only twenty drivers on the grid.
Less than eight-hundred drivers ever to participate in the sport.
In comparison to every other sport on the planet, the margins are incredibly low.
And you made it. Don’t sell your accomplishments short. ”
My throat bobbed. I had never looked at it that way. I’d spent months consumed by guilt and refusing to let myself feel pride for my achievements. I’d never been given a space to feel anything but overshadowed, but now…
I could kiss him—I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to show him how much he meant to me, ask him where he’d been my whole life, and beg him to never leave. But I didn’t. I just gave myself permission to finish laying it all out there.
My fingers twined with his, holding on for dear life. “I have a lot I want to say right now, but you’re the first person I’ve told this to.”
“Then I’m honored,” he murmured, voice thick. “Because I’d do anything to be the one you fall apart for.”
I didn’t mean to gasp, but I did. The air caught in my throat like a sob, like the kind of cry that had been buried for years under pride and survival instincts.
And that was the moment I realized I already had.
I had fallen apart—for him. In his arms. In his flat.
In the silence between us when I didn’t have to pretend anymore.
I blinked hard, trying to breathe through the emotion clawing at my ribs.
“Then you should know,” I whispered, voice shaking, “this is what it looks like.” My free hand swiped at my wet eyes, and God, I was tired of crying today.
“Emotional carnage, aisle one,” I joked, my voice wobbling.
God, I was tired of crying today. “So hot, right?”
The soft smile tipped the corners of his mouth up. “On you? Always. But also, I just have to point out, you got that English phrase correct.”
I scrunched my nose and laughed—light and sudden and all mine. It caught me off guard, but it was exactly what I needed to wrap this conversation up.
“AfterHenricleft the hospital, with an offer literally on the table, I said yes within hours to partake in post-season testing. He was still in the hospital, and I said yes. I told myself it was my chance, that I deserved it. But the truth? I was desperate. I needed to get away from my ex, fromF2, from everything. I beggedLuministo keep it quiet so I could tell my family on my terms. To this day, they don’t know I agreed to it while he was still hooked up to machines.
If they knew the truth about how selfish I had been in some of my family’s worst moments… ”
My chest felt hollow, the confession leaving me raw.
I think maybe they’d resent me for it. Just like my parents always said— a female driver can never outshine her team,Aurélie.
No one will want you if you make them feel small.
Their voices haunted me even now. “So I’ve carried that guilt ever since.
I told myself I did it for me, but it feels like I betrayed him. ”
“Aurélie,”Callumsaid, his voice soft but firm. “You didn’t betray anyone. You fought for your dream, even when the world made it impossible. That doesn’t make you selfish. It makes you brave and a goddamn inspiration.”
I looked at him then, his face open and earnest, and something inside me shifted. I felt so… seen—not as a driver, not as a competitor, but as me.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He didn’t look away. Just tightened his fingers around mine. Then, quieter than I’d ever heard him, he said, “You saved me too, you know.”
I blinked.
“Maybe not from something you could see,” he continued. “But from the way things were starting to feel… flat. Like nothing mattered the way it used to. I’d stopped chasing anything that wasn’t a podium. Then you showed up. On the track. In my head. In my goddamn heart.”
He exhaled slowly, like he wasn’t sure he should keep going.
“And suddenly, everything mattered again. You reminded me what it felt like to want something—more than a win. More than a title. Just…” His thumb brushed mine. “ You. ”
His words didn’t feel like platitudes. They felt real, solid, like the city lights stretching endlessly before us. Finally, I wasn’t bracing for the sting of a backhanded compliment. I wasn’t waiting for the other shoe to drop. I was just… here.
I wasn’t as alone as I’d always believed. I had him now, and that was all that mattered.