Chapter 155 Callum
callum
He was quite literally loving me while I learned. –Aurelie
Istepped back out into the paddock after what felt like my hundredth staged clip for Off The Grid. All I felt was the ache in my ribs and the throb behind my eyes.
God, it felt good to be back in the car, to feel it come alive in my hands, to push into corners and test my limits again.
For a few laps, I almost convinced myself I was whole.
But the truth was brutal. Every time the G-forces pressed into me, my skull pounded like a war drum.
Every jolt rattled through my chest, reminding me I wasn’t healed, not really.
I’d grit my teeth, pretend it was fine, because I couldn’t bear to admit how fragile I still was.
I used to think I was indestructible. And now I was just a coward.
A man too stubborn to swallow his pride.
A man who lashed out at the woman he loved because I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her just as much as he couldn’t stand the thought of walking away from the one thing that had kept him whole his entire life.
A man who let silence fester where words should’ve been.
I’d told myself it was for her safety, for her future.
But what good was her future if I made her feel alone in the present?
What good was our future if I wasn’t there to be part of it because I pushed myself to get back in the car before I was actually ready?
The space between us was unbearable. Nights in the same bed but not touching, mornings full of small talk that tasted like ash.
And the sickest part? For the first time in my life, the idea of walking away from racing didn’t sound like surrender.
It sounded like relief. Like maybe if I let it go, if I finally stopped killing myself for this sport, I could be the man she needed instead of the ghost I was becoming.
I’d even started running the numbers in my head, weighing offers, imagining what life looked like on the other side of the wheel.
Old friends were whispering about opportunities, about investing in something fresh, something bold.
A new team. A chance to stay in the sport without destroying myself for it.
But none of it mattered. Not the car, not the career, not the investors or the pride I bled for.
And then I saw her.
Aurélie, striding through the paddock in her half-undone race suit, braids swaying, jaw set in that don’t-fuck-with-me line.
To everyone else she looked untouchable.
To me, she looked far away. She had been all week, flashing smiles that were too thin.
Her eyes were too guarded, hiding a vulnerability she refused to let me see.
In our hotel bed, she curled against me but wouldn’t let me in.
No kisses, no whispers in the dark. Just silence. And I hated it.
Every inch of space between us carved me open with a blade so sharp, I was certain this would be the one thing I couldn’t survive.
When she drew near, something in me snapped. I couldn’t let her walk past like we were strangers. I couldn’t take another second of it. Not after the fight. Not after the way her words had gutted me. Not when the ghost of her laugh was the only thing holding me together.
I threw my arm across her stomach, halting her mid-stride.
She stumbled into me, startled golden-green eyes flying up to meet mine. “What the hell are you doing?”
Relief slammed through me the second I felt her under my hand.
Christ, just touching her, just holding her to me…
it was like air after drowning. Her body heat seared through my palm, and suddenly all I could think about was dragging her into me, fisting her tight little fire proofs until there was nothing between us but skin.
My cock stirred hard and fast, the kind of ache I’d been pretending didn’t exist all week, the kind of hunger that made me reckless.
I leaned in, my grip tightening. “Viens avec moi.” Come with me.
My voice cracked, exposing how raw I felt as I tugged her away from the flow of people, out of sight of all those godforsaken cameras.
They could wait, because right now, the most important thing was reconnecting with her.
I didn’t give a fuck about optics or headlines or obligations.
They could still watch from afar. They could watch me fight for her even at the height of a disagreement.
Because at the end of the day, at the end of every single goddamn day, I needed her.
The second we hit the shadows, I pressed her back against the wall of a hospitality building, caging her in with my body. My forehead dropped against hers, my breath uneven.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I rasped, kissing her before she could argue. It was fierce and desperate and only a fraction of the feelings I was dealing with. The kind of kiss that tasted like heartbreak and survival.
Her fists bunched into my suit. “Callum, people—”
“Let them look,” I growled, kissing her again.
“I know neither of us are backing down, but I fucking hate that everyone’s talking like they know us.
They know nothing.” Another kiss that was slow and lingering.
“I miss you. I hate that you won’t sit this race out, I hate that you scare the life out of me every time you get in that car, but Christ, Aurélie.
I love you so goddamn much. And I know how your brain works, my little overthinker.
I’m not going anywhere. Do you hear me?”
Her lip trembled, eyes shimmering. She looked away, but I caught her chin, forcing her to meet me.
“Auri. Do you hear me?”
A shaky nod, tears threatening to spill, and then, finally, a crack in her armor. “My brother texted me. When I closed on the house this week.” Her voice was barely audible.
I blinked, the words slamming into me. “You… closed? You bought it?”
She nodded, biting her lip, eyes darting away.
“Yeah. I didn’t… I didn’t know how to tell you.
Things have been—well, you know. And étienne—he offered to help move my things from the estate.
” She paused, her breath rattling out of her as she stumbled over her own words.
“I don’t know how I feel about any of it.
I’ve been a mess inside. And this distance between us—” She shook her head, tears slipping free.
“It feels like maybe it’s not going to be okay. ”
My chest fractured. I cupped her face, kissing her fiercely, tasting salt. “Congratulations, mon c?ur. I should’ve been the first to hear it. That’s on me.” Another kiss, softer this time. “And your brother… are you okay with him? With seeing him? What about your parents?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted with a shrug. “I haven’t heard from them, and I’m not sure I want to right now. But I told my brother he could help, even though, no, I’m not ready. I don’t know if I ever will be.”
I pulled her tighter against me, my lips pressing to her temple, my heart beating so loud I swore she could feel it. “We’ll face it. Together. All of it. Don’t ever think we won’t be okay. I won’t let that happen.”
Her eyes unfocused then, her gaze shifting to somewhere far away, somewhere I couldn’t reach. “Cal… is there something that could make you stop loving me?” Her voice was barely a whisper. “If there was something I couldn’t give you, would you still want me?”
The words hollowed me out. I stared at her, mind racing through a thousand possibilities. What the fuck was she saying? What couldn’t she give me? I came up empty, except for one horrifying thought I shoved down instantly.
I arched a brow, forcing steadiness into my voice. “Unless you’ve cheated on me, Aurélie, there isn’t a single fucking thing that could keep me from you.”
And there it was, just the tiniest laugh breaking loose and thawing the ice that had suffocated us all week. Her lips quirked as she muttered, “Never, you bloody idiot.”
Relief hit me so hard my knees nearly buckled.
She was still here with me. Even if she was galaxies away in her own head—her comfort zone, her prison—it was still her, still mine.
I crushed my mouth to hers, swallowing that laugh, desperate to hold on to the sound.
When I pulled back, I rested my forehead against hers again.
“You’re right,” I admitted. “The woman I fell in love with wouldn’t just walk away from the car, and I can’t expect you to.
Just like you can’t expect me to. Neither of us can ask the other to set aside our careers.
That’s not love—that’s control. And Jesus, baby, the last thing I want is to cage you.
Especially when you’re just starting to spread your wings. ”
Her lips parted, her eyes shining, and I felt her soften against me, inch by inch, like my words had seeped past her walls.
I buried my face in her shoulder, inhaling her like oxygen, like she was home.
I breathed in her addictive lavender smell, committing it to memory.
“I’ve never told anyone this,” I confessed, my voice muffled against her skin.
“Not my parents. Not a single person. I’ve fought severe anxiety my whole damn life.
Kept it buried under noise and speed and work. And it was under control… until you.”
Her sharp intake of breath nearly undid me.
“The first time it showed up was Miami. That fucking club, when you wore that pink dress that still kills me to think about, when you put me in my place out on that terrace. Since then, it keeps resurfacing. I don’t know how to deal with it.
I’m trying, I swear I am, but it’s like every time you’re in danger, it claws me apart from the inside out. It suffocates me.”
I felt her shiver beneath my hands, her nails digging into my back like she could hold me together.
“And I don’t know what’s going on with you this week,” I added, pulling back just enough to search her face. “But it’s killing me, not knowing.”
Her gaze wavered, unfocused, distant. “There’s more going on than all this,” she whispered. “It’s… personal. Personal in a way that I fear once you know, you won’t be mine anymore.”
My heart splintered. I kissed her like I could force her to believe me through taste and touch alone. It was a silent plea, born of desperation and fear of her convincing herself I’d ever walk away from her.
I cupped her face in my hands, my thumbs swiping at the tears on her cheeks as I pulled back.
“Aurélie, listen to me. There is nothing—nothing—that will ever stop me from loving you. Whatever you’re carrying, I’ll carry it with you.
You once told me you don’t know how to get out of your own head sometimes. Do you remember what I said?”
Her trembling nod.
“Let me love you while you learn.” My voice cracked, but I pushed through. “That promise still stands. Always.”
She broke into a fit of sobs, her face crumpling as she wrapped her dainty hands around my wrists, holding me to her.
“Then be patient with me. Please,” she begged through her tears, and I think my soul left my body at the heartache in her voice.
“I’ll tell you once this race is over. I promise.
I just… I need to get through this weekend before I can think about it. Before I tell you.”
I kissed her temple, breathing her in like a prayer. “I can do patient. For you, I can do anything.” Leaning my forehead against hers again, adding, “I promise I’ll love you through it. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
Her breath caught. She pressed her lips to mine like she was clinging to that vow, to me. And I clung back, promising myself I’d never let go. For a moment, she just sagged into me, silent. And I held her because I’d been starving for her all week. Cameras, critics, nightmares be damned.
“Racing 101?” Aurélie whispered after several minutes, stepping back and wiping the tears from her cheeks.
I smiled at her sadly, knowing our moment was over but already missing it. “Commit to your line.”
She nodded. “And mine’s you.” She sucked in a breath as she echoed the vow I made to her in Austria. “I love you. Please… just please don’t forget that.” With a wobbly smile, and before I could respond, she turned in her race boots and rounded the corner.
Back into the chaos with her head high the way she always did. The cameras will look, the world will speculate, but the only truth is what we have together.
If the world wanted to know what we were? This was it. Broken, stubborn, furious, but unshakable.
Us.