Chapter 70 Callum
callum
I was breaking apart, unraveling, and he was just…
watching. Not with pity. Not with judgment.
But something worse. Understanding. As though he saw every fracture, every piece of me I tried to keep hidden, and wanted me anyway.
He was supposed to be my rival. My competition.
Not the one to catch me as I fell. -Aurelie
She hadn’t said a word in what felt like an eternity, and I didn’t dare break the silence.
Instead, I sat across from her, the cheap chair creaking beneath my weight as I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees.
Multi-billion dollar industry, and the chairs looked like they hadn’t been updated since the first Grand Prix.
Aurélie had her knees drawn to her chest, her head resting on them as if she could disappear into herself. The room was dark, save for watery light from the small window above her and the faint glow of her phone screen, which she’d abandoned on the couch beside her. Her breathing was uneven.
I’d never seen her like this. This was a woman who stared down cameras and cars with equal intensity, who could rattle off telemetry while throwing back a tequila shot.
Seeing her now—so small, so vulnerable—felt wrong.
It twisted my heart, made me feel something I wasn’t sure I had a name for.
Concern? Guilt? Possessiveness? All of it, maybe.
The image of her kissing Marco flashed in my mind for the hundredth time today, and my teeth gritted instinctively. I had no idea why she did it. But even if I did know, it wouldn’t make it easier to swallow. It had ignited something primal in me—a jealousy I wasn’t proud of.
Possessive. Yeah, that was the emotion I was feeling, but she wasn’t mine. Not in the way that mattered. But God, it had felt like she was when we were together… and watching that kiss had felt like betrayal, even if I knew better.
To be fair, she had asked me to kiss her first, and when I questioned her, I saw her physically withdraw from me.
A soft sniffle brought me back to the present, and I forced myself to focus on her instead of my own tangled emotions.
Her shoulders trembled slightly, and I had to grip the edges of the chair to keep from reaching for her.
She didn’t need my sarcasm or biting remarks right now.
She needed… something else. Someone willing to sit in the dark with her until she was ready.
The minutes dragged, her silence pressing down on me. My fingers itched to do something—to fix whatever was wrong, to make it better, to drag her out of this room if I had to. But I waited, letting her set the pace.
“I can’t stay here,” she finally whispered, her voice raw and barely audible.
“Here?” I asked softly.
“The paddock. This… room. I don’t want to…” Her voice broke and she buried her face against her knees. “Pas ici.”
Whatever was eating her alive, it was big enough to make her retreat from everything. From her sanctuary, from me.
I nodded slowly, even though she couldn’t see it. “Alright,” I said. “You’ll come with me. Anywhere but here, yeah?”
She didn’t respond, but I caught the faintest movement of her head. A nod or maybe just an acknowledgment that she’d heard me. My mind raced, trying to come up with a way to get her out of here without the press hounding her or the team gossiping about it by the end of the hour.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I pulled it out, glancing at the screen.
An idea started to form—half-baked, maybe, but it was better than nothing.
I started a group chat with Marco and Kimi, my thumbs flying over the keyboard.
I’d told them I was coming to find her and would let them know if she was alright.
Need backup. Her suite in the Luminis garage. Get her out discreetly.
Kimi
What happened?
She’s not herself. Don’t ask questions. Just…help me.
A moment later, Marco chimed in.
Marco
Does this mean I get to carry her like a damsel in distress? Please say yes.
I rolled my eyes, though I smiled despite myself.
Fuck you.
Marco
Do you think I’ll get another kiss?
Just get over here. If I walk out alone with her, the rumor mill explodes.
Kimi
Copy that.
Bianchi, don’t be a dick.
Marco
LOL
I glanced up at Aurélie. She hadn’t moved, but her breathing was a little steadier now. Progress, maybe.
“Kimi and Marco are coming,” I said gently, not anticipating a reaction. “We’ll figure it out. Get you somewhere else without giving the impression we’re…” I trailed off. “Involved.” I hated the word the second it left my mouth. She flinched. Almost imperceptibly, but I saw it.
I shifted forward again, the chair creaking beneath me. My voice dropped to a murmur. “Without giving the impression we’re anything… except what you need.”
Still nothing, but she wasn’t pushing me away either.
I swallowed hard. “Je suis là,” I said quietly. “I’m here.” I didn’t expect her to look up, but she did. Slowly, her tear-swollen eyes met mine in the dim light. Something quiet and unbearable opened between us.
I moved before I could stop myself, crossing the room in two strides, and sank down onto the couch beside her. Not touching her, not crowding, but just close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin.
Reaching up, careful as anything, I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Mon amour,” I whispered, barely louder than my breath.
It was the only thing I could think of that would capture what I felt for her—this addiction of wanting her near, how deeply she made me feel, how much I’d come to care for her.
Her lips parted as if she might say something, but nothing came.
I leaned in, my lips brushing hers, softly, reverently.
A kiss that asked for nothing but promised everything.
She didn’t pull away; she melted. Just a sigh, the barest shift of her body toward mine, as though gravity had tilted and I was the only solid thing she could cling to.
I broke the kiss, and she rested her forehead against mine with a shaky breath.
“Don’t go,” she whispered, almost inaudibly. “Just… stay. Please.”
I’d always considered myself selfish… until her. Before her, I would have stepped away and given her the space she’d initially asked for without a second thought. I would have let her rebuild without clouding things between us. But instead, my hand found hers, letting her anchor herself to me.
As much as I wanted to be, I knew I wasn’t her answer, but I could be her silence. Her pause. Her breath.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
I meant it more than I’d meant anything in my life.