Chapter 128 Aurélie
aurélie
I can fight the whole damn world for her, but the one thing I can’t fight is the war she’s waging against herself. –Callum
“You’ve turned Luminis into a goddamn circus, Aurélie,” Henric snarled through the receiver.
I flinched at the harshness in his tone.
Not that I should–I wasn’t afraid of him, but I did still owe him respect as my team principal, and lately I hadn’t shown that to him.
As a person, he doesn’t deserve it. But as a superior…
yeah, I understood the severity of what I was doing.
I wasn’t dumb. What I was doing was a huge risk, and if I didn’t have a seat secured at Ferrari next year, I selfishly would find a quieter way to do this.
“Do you think the FIA fines are just for shits and giggles? That money just grows on trees?” he demanded, and because he couldn’t see me, I rolled my eyes.
It was like being lectured by my father, which I expected.
Evidently it was also the reason why I ignored his first call a couple hours ago.
“Do you think I enjoy being summoned into meetings to explain why my rookie driver is more famous for running her mouth than her lap times?”
“I’m not doing this for attention, Henric,” I said, forcing the frustration from my voice. “It’s about safety. I’m not the only one saying it—”
He cut me off. “Safety doesn’t sell tickets. Winning does.”
I gripped the phone tighter. “There is no winning if all the goddamn drivers are dead,” I snapped.
“There’s been deliberate blocking in free practice, dangerous defending by experienced drivers, and open discussion of sabotage!
I don’t care if people are whispering in the paddock about whether I even belong here.
I care about doing the right thing. I’m staying focused, winning races, and—”
“Excuses,” he snapped, the word landing like a gavel. “The press sees you as a troublemaker, and I see a driver whose reputation is tanking. Fix your image, or I’ll find someone who can.”
The line went dead, and so did the part of me that still believed HQ would have my back. The echo of his voice stayed, drilling into the space between my ears. I inhaled deeply through my nose, closed my eyes, and held my breath. Slow exhaling, I turned and opened my balcony doors.
My flat was too quiet. It always was when I was here, but tonight in particular, the silence was suffocating.
Fresh air hit me, kissing my heated skin.
It was a warm summer night, and if I wasn’t actively trying to lower my blood pressure, it would’ve been enjoyable.
Instead, I dropped my phone on the little round table as I plopped down in the single padded lounge chair–the only pieces of furniture I could fit in the small space.
I leaned back, taking in the view. Paris glittered before me—golden, beautiful, loud—but it didn’t penetrate the heavy fog slowly consuming me. Inside, it was just shadows and the hum of my own breath. I wasn’t sure how much I had left in me.
I never expected this when I agreed to take my brother’s seat.
Formula 1 had always been the goal. It was a shiny, impossible dream I kept tucked away so no one could destroy it.
And then my chance came, and I grabbed it with both hands.
I fell in love, twice over—once with the sport, and once with Callum.
Who knew love could be so disastrous? So public?
So politicized, dissected, and fucking weaponized?
Sometimes I wondered what it would be like to just walk away from it all.
To go home to the vineyard with my tail between my legs, tending to the grapevines that had been my safe haven long before I’d ever stepped into a car.
The vines never asked for podiums, PR quotes, or silence unless spoken to.
They didn’t care about contracts or camera angles, only patience and care, and were rewarded in time.
But then I thought of Callum. Of Marco and Kimi, the sound of the lights going out, the surge of the grid, the taste of champagne and the glitter of the paddock at night. And I knew I’d never be able to quit, no matter how much this world cut me open.
My phone vibrated from the table beside me, startling me from my thoughts. I glanced at it with disdain. It was face down, but it might as well have been a live grenade. Every time it buzzed, my stomach churned and my teeth gnashed.
I didn’t want to look. Didn’t want to see another headline or Callum’s name if it wasn’t him.
Then again, aside from the endless stream of notifications, there were very few people who would contact me anyway–the boys.
The last time I’d spoken to my family was in Monaco, about a month ago, when I blew up at them for their lack of support from me signing with Ferrari and the fact that I’d just won the most prestigious race in the world.
I had a lot to be proud of that day, and they didn’t give a single fuck about me.
My own family didn’t want me once I started to take the spotlight from étienne.
My sister and I barely talked to begin with, so no surprise there.
But to not even hear from my mom was a shock.
She was typically the one to make sure we always smoothed things over.
This time was different, though. In their eyes, I betrayed our family when I accepted the offer from Luminis.
étienne was still hooked up to machines, and I got the chance to participate in testing.
I may have been given an olive branch, but I earned my spot here.
Except, to my parents, me not consulting them before accepting a seat at Ferrari next year and the timing of my acceptance, I was a disgrace.
Seems about right.
The fallout had been volcanic—accusations, disappointment, silence. And when it ended, I was alone in this echo chamber of a life I’d built, wondering when I’d traded every safety net I’d ever had for a seat in a car that could kill me.
I didn’t have my family anymore, so I tried to cling to the ones I did, the three constants in a sea of people who wanted me gone. They were the hands pulling me out of the abyss, even when I didn’t ask.
Except I couldn’t reach any of them right now.
Tears welled in my eyes for what felt like the umpteenth time this week.
I glanced over my shoulder toward the open balcony door.
Inside, in the faint glow from the kitchen, I could see the pink fuzzy blanket draped over the back of my couch—one of the many things Callum had sent me.
I wanted to wrap myself in it until I could pretend I was with him.
But the doubt whispered anyway. Were the gifts because he cared… or because he felt obligated?
The thought that I couldn’t be strong for him the way he’d been for me made me hiccup on a sob. I clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sound, but it broke through anyway. My shoulders shook, tears spilling hot and fast as I curled into myself on the padded lounge chair.
Why? Why was I never good enough? Why did I always love more than I was loved? Why did I keep handing my heart to people who didn’t ask for it and couldn’t keep it safe?
Why, why, why–until the word lost all meaning and became nothing but a pulse in my skull, pounding with each shallow breath.
Why, why, why–like a metronome I couldn’t shut off, dragging me deeper into the quiet, merciless ache.
Now, my head throbbed from the constant spinning of thoughts. I’d been moving at light speed—racing between countries, trying to keep Callum fed and comfortable, doing my job, fighting battles I never thought I’d have to fight. But here in my flat, there was nothing to distract me from the spiral.
I knew what it felt like to be used. To be just good enough to serve a purpose, until I wasn’t anymore. That same ugly voice in my head whispered it now. Maybe this was obligation. Maybe he felt sorry for me.
I’d been here before, in different clothes and different cities, convincing myself someone’s kindness meant love when it didn’t. Convincing myself I was wanted.
And I hated that even after all this time, sometimes I couldn’t tell the difference.
Forcing myself to my feet, I grabbed my phone and shuffled inside.
A heavy sigh escaped me as I closed the door, then flicked off the lights one at a time until I was plunged into darkness.
Only my phone screen lit my path, until I crawled into bed and clutched my pillow as if it could fill the distance between me and Callum.
Soon. I’d see him soon.
Austria was next on the calendar. I should have been packing, running simulations, strategizing how to survive the next FIA meeting without losing my mind.
Instead, I burrowed further into my blankets. I didn’t want to leave here, didn’t want to walk through the airport with cameras tracking every blink, didn’t want to face Henric again.
I just… didn’t want to do it alone.