Why would you think is a good idea to say girls only watch f1 because of good looking guys???
We do, every fckng day, our biggest efforts to be noticed for us, for what we do, for our job, for ourselves. We are not the girlfriend of, the wife of… STOP IT!
We watch football because of the sport, we watch basketball because of the sport and guess what, we do watch F1 BECAUSE OF THE SPORT!
Yes, there are handsome guys but it’s not the reason we watch it!
As a woman working in the sport industry, believe me, this kind of comments and from whom they come affects our fight, and even when we don’t want to, break us a little.
# summary: everyone thinks that being lewis hamilton’s wife is sweet—it is for the most part—but every high has its lows.
# pairings: lewis hamilton x black fem reader
# tags: @barcelonesa, @lewismcqueen, @summersoniccc, @christmasbales, @issfaith, @amori1i, @toutouslilwrld, @literallysza, @jessnotwiththemess, @sailurmewn, @127hydrangeas, @that-90s-girllll, @queenshikongo3, @cocobutterqwueen, @muglermami, @beauty-gurl, @palefacestudentlove, @firstlyferrari, @kinggbl, @vintagesoul-01, @nervousstudentmiracles
# warnings: formula one drama, family feuds, breastfeeding issues, postpartum depression, angst, cursing, adult themes - 18+
# author's note: although this fic shows the "high life" of being a wag - this does not support or glamorize "wag culture"; it does the opposite and sheds light on the not so fun sides of dating/marrying an athlete, especially in f1. if you are triggered by depressive epsiodes and feeling hopeless, please do not read this fic.
yourusername posted on your story 16 hours ago!
IG story comments:
lewisfantillidie: omg these are too cute!! is she here?!!
stillirise: 🍼👶🏾
44forever: 😭 😭 😭
teamlhitalia: Il piccolo Hamilton è qui allora, giusto?
plus44world: looking amazing as always lady hamilton
mission44: so excited to to meet the babes!!
fencer: uncle miles reporting for duty 🫡
⤷ yourusername replied to fencer you’re a bit early unc 😉 she’s still wombside
13thwitness: 🤯 🤯 is it time? holy shit!!
⤷ yourusername replied to 13thwitness almost time
prologic: bro didn’t even text us yet 😔
⤷ yourusername replied to prologic we just made it to the hospital
**********************************************
lewishamilton and 2 others • The Beatle’s “All You Need Is Love”
liked by fencer, f1, scuderiaferrari, yourusername, and others
lewishamilton: We’re so blessed to welcome our third daughter Earthside yesterday morning. The staff at the hospital was amazing! Thank you all for your prayers, kind words, and support! I will take a few days offline to enjoy this moment with my family and see everyone for the final race of the season in Abu Dhabi. Everyone say hello to Love Acacia Cherise Hamilton 💕 ~ her big sisters Leia and Lake are already in love with her! 😉
view all comments….
mercedesamgf1: omg she’s so cute! congrats on another healthy baby girl lewishamilton
⤷ lewishamilton replied to mercedesamgf1 you guys were definitely betting on this…lemme guess Bono won the bet?
⤷ mercedesamgf1 replied to lewishamilton yes he did 🤗
f1: We love Love!! 💕 (get it? 🤭)
⤷ lewishamilton replied to f1 😂😂
roscoelovescoco: i’s a big’s brother’s again’s 🐶
scuderiaferrari: Benvenuto nel mondo Amore!
⤷ lewishamilton replied to scuderiaferrari: Grazie mille 🙏🏽
susiewolff: oh she’s precious!! I need to pop in for a visit for some snuggles 🥰
⤷ lewishamilton replied to susiewolff you’re always welcome 🤗
fencer: MY NIECEE!!!!! BRUV I’M IN TEARS RIGHT NOW 😭 😭
spinzbeatsinc: damn brother can you make a boy? 👦🏾
⤷ hamazinglew replied to spinzbeatsinc I don’t think he can 🤣
⤷ lewisfanforever replied to spinzbeatsinc man had 3 girls in 3 and a half years - he isn’t getting any sons 😂
⤷ user67836 replied to lewisfanforever damn 3 children in 3 and a half years is crazy work! My prayers for his wife and lewishamilton stay off her man!!
dangerusswilson: congrats lewishamilton 🥳
⤷ lewishamilton replied to dangerusswilson my guy im trying to be like you 👀
⤷ dangerusswilson replied to lewishamilton the lord said to be fruitful and multiply and you shall, my G 🙌🏾
⤷ kingjames replied to dangerusswilson hey now don’t give him any ideas 😏
broncos: We can’t wait to meet her!! 😊
⤷ lewishamilton replied to broncos you guys will see her soon
georgerussell63: Congrats Lewis!!!
pierregasly: 🥹🥹🥹
charlesleclerc: lewishamilton please bring pictures next week!
⤷ yukitsunoda replied to charlesleclerc and lots of videos please… lewishamilton
The Dubai skyline glittered like scattered diamonds outside your hospital window.
You shifted carefully in the bed, every movement a reminder of what your body had just accomplished. Love was sleeping in your arms – all six pounds, four ounces of her, impossibly small and perfect. Her dark hair was soft as silk, and when she'd opened her eyes for the first time, they'd been Lewis's exact shade of brown.
"She's beautiful," Lewis whispered from the chair beside your bed. He'd barely left that spot in the thirty-six hours since Love's arrival, as if moving too far might break the spell of this moment.
"She is," you agreed, though your voice came out rougher than expected. Everything felt raw still. Not just physically, but emotionally too. Like you'd been turned inside out and hadn't quite figured out how to exist in your skin again.
This was supposed to be easier by now. Love was your third baby. You knew what to expect, knew the rhythm of newborn life, knew how your body typically bounced back. But something felt different this time. Harder. Like you were swimming through honey while everyone else moved at normal speed.
"The girls are gonna lose their minds when they meet her," Lewis said.
"They're gonna be so gentle with her," you said, trying to inject warmth into your voice. The truth was, the thought of managing three kids under four made your chest tight with something that might have been panic.
Lewis reached over, brushing his thumb across Love's tiny fist. "Can't believe we made something this perfect."
You looked at him – still in yesterday's clothes, stubble shadowing his jaw, eyes soft with wonder – and felt a familiar ache. He was so good at this. So natural. Already planning family adventures, talking about teaching Love to swim, to drive, to be brave and kind and everything good in the world.
Meanwhile, you were wondering if you'd ever feel human again.
"Dr. Mohammad said we can go home tomorrow morning," you said instead of voicing any of that.
"Good. The penthouse is all set up. Got the bassinet by our bed, all her clothes organized by size..." Lewis trailed off, studying your face. "You okay, baby? You look tired."
Tired. That was like calling the ocean damp.
"Just ready to get settled," you said. "Hospital beds aren't exactly comfortable."
Lewis nodded, but his expression remained concerned. You turned back to Love, letting her tiny fingers wrap around yours, and tried to ignore the voice in your head that whispered you weren't doing this right. That a good mother would be glowing with joy instead of feeling like she was drowning.
Your phone buzzed on the bedside table – another flower delivery, another congratulations message, another reminder that the world was watching Lewis Hamilton's perfect family welcome their third perfect daughter.
Perfect.
The word sat heavy in your chest as Love stirred in your arms, making those soft newborn sounds that should have melted your heart completely.
They did. But underneath the love was something else. Something that felt too much like fear.
The Dubai penthouse was a study in understated luxury.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the marina, where yachts bobbed like expensive toys. The nursery Lewis had set up was a dream in soft whites and pale yellows, with a custom mobile that played a melody he'd hummed during your pregnancy.
Your husband had left before dawn for the circuit, kissing you goodbye while you were still half-asleep. Now it was just you and the girls in the sprawling penthouse, watching the world wake up thirty floors below.
"Mummy, when does Daddy's race start?" Leia asked from her spot on the enormous sectional, still in her pajamas and clutching her stuffed elephant.
"Not for a few hours, sweetheart," you said, shifting Love to your other arm as she made those soft newborn sounds that meant she'd be crying soon. "We'll watch it together."
Lake was already planted in front of the massive TV, even though it was just showing the morning news. At two and a half, she didn't understand what Formula 1 was, but she knew it meant seeing Daddy on the big screen.
Love started fussing, that escalating whimper you'd learned meant hungry, tired, uncomfortable, or some combination of all three. You'd been trying to nurse her for the past hour with limited success—your supply was still inconsistent, and she seemed perpetually frustrated by the slow flow.
"She's crying again," Leia observed helpfully.
"I know, baby. Mummy's trying to help her."
But twenty minutes later, Love was still fussing despite your best efforts. The pre-race coverage had started, and Lewis was in the garage, going through his usual routine. He looked focused and calm, but you felt like you were barely keeping your head above water.
The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix then unfolded like poetry on screen.
You sat with Love finally settled in your arms, Leia and Lake curled up on either side of you on the sectional. The girls were surprisingly good at watching races – something about the speed and colors kept them engaged.
"Daddy!" Lake squealed as the camera caught Lewis climbing into his car.
"He looks fast," Leia added seriously, as if speed was something you could see in someone's posture.
Lewis did look good today. The Mercedes was responding well, and you could tell from his radio messages that he was feeling confident. This was his goodbye to the team that had given him six championships. It mattered.
When he crossed the finish line, you felt tears prick your eyes despite your exhaustion. The relief in his voice over the radio was palpable, the joy of his team infectious even through the television.
Then came the donuts. Lewis spinning his car in celebration on the main straight, smoke billowing from the tires, pure euphoria in every rotation. The camera caught him climbing out for the last time as a Mercedes driver, helmet off, that brilliant smile breaking across his face.
You watched him embrace Toto, then Bonon, then his mechanics, then every team member he could find. Watched grown men cry as they hugged the driver who'd brought them so much success. Watched Lewis himself wipe away tears as he soaked in the moment.
"Daddy's happy," Lake observed.
"Very happy," you agreed, bouncing Love gently as she started to stir.
On screen, Lewis was glowing. In his element. Everything he'd worked for condensed into this perfect farewell.
Here in the penthouse, however, you felt like you were watching through glass.
Your phone buzzed constantly with notifications – congratulations messages, news articles, social media tags. You let them pile up, unread.
"When is Daddy coming home?" Leia asked.
"Soon, sweetheart. He has some things to do first, but he'll be back tonight."
Lewis would have media obligations, team celebrations, probably dinner with people from Mercedes. He'd be riding the high of this moment for hours.
You'd be here, trying to figure out why Love wouldn't stop crying and why your body felt like it belonged to someone else.
*************************************
Lewis came home around midnight, tired but still buzzing with emotion.
You met him at the door with Love in your arms – she'd been having one of her difficult evenings, crying on and off despite being fed and changed and rocked.
"How are my girls?" he asked, pulling you into a careful hug, mindful of the baby between you.
"Good," you said automatically. "Leia and Lake fell asleep watching the replay. They were so excited to see you win."
"P5," Lewis corrected gently. "But it felt like a win."
"It was a win. A perfect send-off." You meant it, even though watching his triumph had made the contrast with your own struggle feel sharper.
Lewis studied your face in the dim hallway light. "You look tired, baby."
Tired. There was that word again.
"Love's been fussy," you said instead of listing everything else – the successful feeding attempts that lasted only minutes, the endless cycle of crying and soothing that never quite worked, the way your body still felt foreign and wrong.
"Here, let me take her." Lewis reached for Love, and you handed her over gratefully.
Within minutes, she'd settled against his chest, finally quiet.
"How do you do that?" you asked, sinking onto the couch.
"Fresh hands," Lewis said simply, but you knew it was more than that. He had a natural ease with the babies that you envied.
"She's been like this all day. I can't figure out what she wants."
Lewis settled beside you, Love peaceful in his arms. "Maybe she's just having a hard day. Babies do that sometimes."
You nodded, though part of you wondered if Love could sense your own anxiety, if somehow your inability to relax was making everything harder for both of you.
"How was the race really?" you asked, needing to focus on something positive.
Lewis's face lit up as he described the strategy, the car's performance, and the emotional team meetings afterward. You listened and smiled and asked the right questions, letting his joy wash over you even as you felt separate from it.
This was what you were good at – being Lewis's wife, supporting his dreams, celebrating his victories. It was the other stuff – the daily grind of motherhood, the management of your own needs – that felt impossible lately.
Love stirred in his arms, making soft sounds that would escalate to crying within minutes. Your breasts ached with the persistent reminder that your milk supply still wasn't where it should be.
"I'm so proud of you," you said, because that was true and safe to say.
"Proper send-off," Lewis said softly.
You nodded, glancing over at Love as she began to fuss. "Feeding time?" you asked.
"I'll get it," Lewis said immediately, handing Love to you.
As he disappeared into the kitchen to heat up a bottle, you shifted Love in your arms, studying her perfect face in the soft light. She was beautiful. She was healthy. She was everything you'd hoped for.
So why did you feel like you were failing her already?
London was grey and drizzly when you arrived a week later.
Carmen met you at Heathrow with the biggest smile, immediately reaching for Love while Linda corralled Leia and Lake, who were vibrating with excitement about their new sister.
"Oh, she's gorgeous," Carmen breathed, cradling Love with the expertise of someone who'd raised multiple children. "Looks just like Lewis did as a baby."
"She's got his eyes for sure," you agreed, grateful to have your arms free for a moment as Leia and Lake attached themselves to your legs.
"How are you feeling, love?" Linda asked quietly as you all headed toward the car. "Really?"
"Good," you said automatically. "Tired, but good. Still adjusting."
Carmen gave you a look that was too knowing for comfort, but she just nodded. "That's normal. Take all the time you need."
The house felt different when you walked in. Not bad different – just fuller, somehow. There were flowers everywhere, cards and gifts from friends and family, and a banner that read "Welcome Home Love" in glittery letters.
It should have felt like coming home. Instead, it felt like stepping onto a stage where everyone was expecting a performance you weren't sure you could give.
"Mummy, mummy, we made Love a picture!" Leia announced, waving a crayon drawing that appeared to show a family of stick figures.
"It's beautiful, sweetheart," you said, shifting carefully towards her. The movement was too fast, and you bit back a wince.
"Bath time!" Linda announced cheerfully, herding Leia and Lake toward the stairs. "Let Mummy get settled with baby Love."
As their chatter faded up the stairs, Carmen settled beside you on the couch where you were attempting to nurse Love. Again.
"How's feeding going?" she asked gently.
"It's..." You paused, watching Love fuss at your breast, clearly frustrated by the slow flow. "It's harder this time. I'm not producing as much as I did with the other two."
"That's normal, Y/N. Stress can affect supply. Maybe we could supplement with some formula—"
"No." The word came out sharper than you'd intended. Carmen blinked in surprise.
"It's just," you continued, trying to modulate your tone, "I breastfed the girls exclusively for months. I can do this. I just need to be more consistent with pumping, drink more water, get more rest..."
Carmen's expression was careful. "Of course, love. But there's nothing wrong with formula if you need it. Fed is best, isn't it?"
Something hot and defensive flared in your chest. "I know that. But I don't need it. Love is gaining weight fine. The pediatrician said—"
"Y/N." Carmen's voice was gentle but firm. "I'm not criticizing. I'm just saying it's okay to make things easier on yourself."
The word easier hit wrong. Like she thought you were taking the hard way for no reason. Like you were being stubborn or prideful instead of just trying to be a good mother.
"I'm sorry," you said quickly, the fight leaving you as suddenly as it had come. "I didn't mean to snap. I'm just... it's been a long week."
"You don't have to apologize," Carmen said softly. "You're doing brilliantly. But you don't have to do everything perfectly, you know."
Love had given up on nursing and was starting to cry again. The sound made your chest tighten with familiar anxiety.
"I just need a minute," you said, standing abruptly and passing Love to Carmen. "Just... I'll be right back."
You escaped to the pantry, closing the door behind you with hands that shook slightly. The small space smelled like coffee and spices, familiar and safe in a way that made your throat tight.
This was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous. Carmen was trying to help, and you were being defensive and ungrateful. You were home, your family was healthy, Lewis was going to live his dream with Ferrari.
Everything was perfect.
So why did you feel like crying all the time?
You grabbed a packet of biscuits from the shelf, tearing it open with more force than necessary. The first biscuit disappeared in three bites, then the second, then a third. You ate mechanically, barely tasting them, just needing something to fill the hollow feeling in your chest.
A knock on the pantry door made you freeze.
"Y/N?" Linda's voice was soft. "Everything alright, love?"
You swallowed the biscuit in your mouth, wiping crumbs from your lips. "Fine! Just grabbing a snack. Be right out."
You shoved the packet back onto the shelf, straightened your clothes, and opened the door with what you hoped was a normal smile.
"Better?" Linda asked, studying your face.
"Much better," you said brightly. "Just needed a sugar hit. Where are the girls?"
"Clean and in pajamas, waiting for a story." Linda's eyes were concerned, but she didn't push. "Want me to take Love so you can tuck them in?"
"That would be lovely, thank you."
You climbed the stairs toward Leia and Lake's chatter, leaving the hollow feeling in the pantry where it belonged. There would be time to deal with whatever this was later.
Right now, you had daughters who needed their mummy to read them a story and tuck them in and be everything they expected you to be.
Lewis's farewell tour took him to Malaysia first, then Germany, then finally to Brackley.
You watched his Instagram stories from the London house, surrounded by the controlled chaos of life with three small children. Lewis in the Malaysian heat, hugging mechanics he'd worked with for years. Lewis in the Stuttgart factory, looking emotional as he packed up his driver's room. Lewis at Brackley, speaking to the team that had become his family.
Each post showed him glowing with gratitude and excitement, ready for the next chapter with Ferrari. The comments were full of love and support, fans celebrating his legacy and wishing him well.
You double-tapped each photo and tried to ignore how distant it all felt.
"Mummy, Love is crying again," Leia informed you from her perch on the couch, where she was coloring very seriously.
Love had been crying on and off all morning. Nothing seemed to soothe her for long – not feeding, not rocking, not the white noise machine Linda had suggested. Dr. Patel had said some babies were just fussier than others, that it wasn't necessarily anything you were doing wrong.
It felt like something you were doing wrong.
"I know, sweetheart," you said, lifting Love from her bouncer and immediately feeling the familiar weight of failure when she continued crying in your arms. "She's just having a cranky day."
"Like Lake yesterday?" Leia asked without looking up from her coloring.
"Something like that."
Lake had had a spectacular meltdown the day before when you'd served her lunch in the wrong bowl. Two hours of tears over a blue bowl instead of a pink one, while Love screamed and you felt your patience stretching thinner and thinner.
"Can we call Daddy?" Lake asked from where she was playing with blocks on the carpet.
"Daddy's working, sweetheart. He'll be home soon."
Soon felt relative when you were running on three hours of sleep and your last proper meal had been whatever you'd managed to grab from the pantry yesterday.
Carmen appeared in the doorway, taking in the scene with practiced eyes. "Want me to take her for a walk? Sometimes fresh air helps."
"I can manage," you said automatically, then caught yourself. "I mean, that's very kind, but she's probably just hungry again."
But when you tried to nurse Love, she latched for barely a minute before pulling away, crying harder. Your supply had been inconsistent all week, despite the supplements Linda had suggested, despite drinking enough water to float a boat.
"Y/N," Carmen said gently. "Maybe just a small bottle? To take the edge off?"
The suggestion hit like a physical blow. "She doesn't need formula."
"It's not about need, love. It's about making things easier—"
"I said no." The words came out harsher than you'd intended, sharp enough that Leia looked up from her coloring with wide eyes.
Carmen's expression shifted to something like concern. "Alright. Of course. You know what's best."
The silence that followed was heavy with things unsaid. Love continued crying in your arms, and you continued bouncing her with increasing desperation, feeling Carmen's worried gaze on your back.
"I just need a minute," you said finally, your voice cracking slightly on the words.
You handed Love to Carmen before you could think too hard about it and walked quickly from the room, ignoring Carmen calling your name softly behind you.
The pantry was becoming a habit.
This time you didn't even bother with the pretense of getting a snack. You just sank onto the floor between shelves of tinned goods and let yourself cry.
Quietly, because the girls were just down the hall. Quietly, because Carmen and Linda were trying to help and didn't deserve to deal with your breakdown. Quietly, because Lewis Hamilton's wife didn't fall apart in pantries over feeding schedules and fussy babies.
Your phone buzzed with a text from Lewis: Missing you girls. How's everyone doing?
You stared at the message for a long time, then typed back: All good here. Love you.
Because what else could you say? That you felt like you were drowning? That you couldn't figure out why this time felt so much harder? That you were hiding in a pantry crying over baby formula like it was a personal failure?
Lewis was living his dream, surrounded by the excitement of his new team, and you were going to tell him his wife couldn't handle what millions of women did every day?
You wiped your eyes, stood up, and straightened your shoulders.
When you opened the pantry door, Carmen was waiting with Love, now quiet in her arms.
"Feeling better?" Carmen asked softly.
"Much," you said, reaching for Love. "Thank you."
Carmen studied your face for a moment longer, then nodded. "I'm going to start dinner. Why don't you rest with the baby for a bit?"
"I should help—"
"You should rest," Carmen said firmly. "Doctor's orders."
You wanted to argue, but Love was finally peaceful in your arms, and the thought of sitting down for even ten minutes felt like a luxury you couldn't refuse.
Lewis came home on a Tuesday night, tired but glowing with excitement about Maranello.
You met him at the door with Love in your arms, Leia and Lake bouncing around his legs like puppies as he hugged you carefully, mindful of the baby between you.
"How are my girls?" he asked, pressing a kiss to your forehead before gently taking Love. "And how's my littlest girl?"
"She's been good today," you said, which was mostly true. "Slept for three hours straight this afternoon."
What you didn't mention was that you'd spent those three hours frantically cleaning the house, responding to emails about Mission 44, and trying to pump milk with increasingly frustrating results.
"Daddy, Daddy, we learned a new song!" Leia announced. "About baby sharks!"
"Oh no," Lewis said with mock horror. "Not the baby shark song."
"Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo," Lake began singing, and Lewis winced dramatically while you laughed despite your exhaustion.
This was good. This was normal. Family chaos and silly songs and Lewis making everything feel lighter just by being here.
"How was Brackley?" you asked later, after the girls were in bed and you were both on the couch, Love finally settled in her bassinet.
"Emotional," Lewis admitted. "Lot of tears. But good tears, you know? Like, grateful tears."
"I saw the photos. Everyone looked so proud."
"They are. I am." He reached for your hand. "Feels like the end of one chapter and the beginning of something incredible."
"Ferrari's lucky to have you."
"Think so?" Lewis turned to study your face. "You've been quiet since I got home. Everything okay?"
The question you'd been dreading. Because everything wasn't okay, but you couldn't figure out how to explain that without sounding ungrateful or dramatic or weak.
"Just tired," you said. "Love's been a bit fussy, and the girls are excited about Lake's birthday coming up."
"Speaking of which," Lewis said, his face lighting up. "I was thinking we could do something special this year. Since it's my birthday too, and Love's here now..."
"What did you have in mind?"
"Zoo party. In LA. Rent out a section, get a cake shaped like a giraffe, let the kids run wild." Lewis was already planning, you could see it in his eyes. "What do you think?"
The thought of managing a party with dozens of kids while dealing with a fussy newborn made your stomach clench with anxiety. But Lewis looked so excited, and Lake would love it.
"Sounds perfect," you said.
Lewis squeezed your hand. "You sure? You look a bit overwhelmed."
"I'm fine," you said automatically. "Just thinking about logistics."
"We'll have plenty of help. My mum, Linda, probably half the crew will want to come celebrate." Lewis leaned over to kiss your cheek. "You don't have to worry about everything, baby. Let other people help."
You nodded, even though the idea of letting other people see you struggle felt impossible. Lewis Hamilton's wife had her shit together. Lewis Hamilton's wife could handle a zoo party and a newborn and two toddlers without breaking a sweat.
Even if that wasn't remotely true.
yourusername posted on your story 16 hours ago!
IG story comments:
lewisfantillidie: 🍼👶🏾
ferraripilots: lewis in daddy mode always gets me 😭 😭 😭
fencer: my nieces!!!
⤷ yourusername replied to fencer 🥺🥺
a few weeks later....
The Los Angeles Zoo was chaos in the best possible way.
Kids ran everywhere, hopped up on sugar and excitement, while parents chased after them with varying degrees of energy. You'd rented out the children's zoo section, complete with petting areas and a private party pavilion decorated in jungle themes.
Lake was in heaven, toddling around in her birthday dress with a crown that kept sliding over her eyes. Leia had appointed herself tour guide, dragging anyone who would listen to see the goats and sheep.
And Love... Love was having one of her difficult days.
She'd been crying on and off since you'd arrived, despite being fed and changed and rocked. Now she was working herself into the kind of red-faced wail that made other parents look over with sympathy and judgment in equal measure.
"Hey, sweetheart," you murmured, bouncing her gently as you stood near the party table. "What's wrong, hmm? What do you need?"
Love's response was to cry harder.
You tried nursing her, but again she latched for barely a minute before pulling away in frustration. Your supply had been particularly low all week, despite everything you'd tried. The pump sat at home like an accusation, producing less and less each day.
"Maybe she's overstimulated?" suggested one of the other mums, whose daughter was Lake's age.
"Maybe," you agreed, though you'd tried taking Love somewhere quiet an hour ago with no success.
Across the party area, you could see Lewis laughing with a group of kids as they fed the goats. He looked relaxed and happy, reverberating with his own big 4-0 magic, fully present in a way you envied. When was the last time you'd felt fully present anywhere?
Love's crying escalated, that particular pitch that made your back teeth ache and your anxiety spike. Other parents were definitely looking now, and you felt heat creep up your neck.
"Come on, baby," you whispered desperately. "Please, just... please stop crying."
But she didn't stop. If anything, she got louder, and you felt your composure starting to crack in the way that meant you were about to cry too.
"Y/N?" Lewis appeared at your elbow, having crossed the party area in quick strides. "Everything okay?"
"She won't stop crying," you said, and your voice came out more shaky than you'd intended. "I've tried everything. She was just fed, she's clean, I don't know what she wants."
"Here," Lewis said, reaching for Love. "Let me try."
You should have been grateful for the help. Instead, something sharp and defensive flared in your chest.
"I've got it," you said, stepping back slightly.
"Baby, you look exhausted. Just let me—"
"I said I've got it." The words came out rougher than you'd meant, loud enough that a few nearby parents glanced over.
Lewis's expression shifted to something like concern. "Y/N, it's okay to need help."
"I don't need help," you said, even as Love's cries reached a new decibel level. "I can handle my own daughter."
But even as you said it, you felt yourself starting to shake. Your chest was tight, your breathing shallow, and Love's crying was drilling into your skull like a physical pain.
Lewis stepped closer, his voice gentler. "Hey. Look at me."
You met his eyes reluctantly, and whatever he saw there made his expression soften completely.
"Take her," you said suddenly, practically shoving Love into his arms. "Just... take her for a minute."
Lewis accepted Love smoothly, immediately shifting into the rocking motion that somehow always worked for him. "Of course. Take a break."
"I can't take a break," you said, but you were already backing away from them. "I have to cut the cake, and the party bags aren't ready, and—"
"Y/N." Lewis's voice was firm but not harsh. "Take a walk. Please, baby."
You opened your mouth to argue, to insist you were fine, but the words stuck in your throat.
"Go get some ice cream," Lewis said, his eyes kind but unyielding. "I've got the girls."
Something in his tone broke through your defenses. Maybe it was the way he said it like it wasn't a request. Maybe it was the fact that Love had already started to quiet in his arms. Maybe it was just that you were so tired you couldn't fight anymore.
"Okay," you whispered. "Just for a few minutes."
"Take your time."
You walked away on unsteady legs, past the party chaos and toward the ice cream cart near the main path. Your hands were shaking as you ordered a vanilla cone, and you had to blink back tears as you paid.
Finding an empty bench, you sank down and pulled out your phone while taking mechanical bites of ice cream you couldn't taste.
The first blog post that came up made your stomach drop.
Lewis Hamilton's Wife Shows Post-Baby Body in L.A.
The photos were candid shots – you holding Love, looking exhausted and overwhelmed. Your body in the flowy dress you'd chosen specifically to hide how soft you still were around the middle. The comments were brutal:
She used to be so fit
Looks like she's given up trying
Third baby really did a number on her
Remember when she was hot?
You scrolled through them like self-harm, each comment landing like a physical blow. This was what people saw when they looked at you – not a mother trying her best, but a woman who'd let herself go. Who wasn't bouncing back fast enough. Who wasn't good enough anymore.
You finished the ice cream cone in three large bites, barely chewing, just needing something to fill the hollow ache in your chest. Then you wiped your mouth, dried your eyes, and stood up.
Time to get back to the party. Time to smile and cut the cake and pretend everything was fine.
Love's one-month checkup fell on a rainy L.A. afternoon.
Dr. Patel was kind and thorough, weighing Love and checking her reflexes while you sat in the chair beside the examination table, trying to look like you had everything under control.
"She's gaining weight beautifully," Dr. Patel said, making notes on her chart. "How are you feeling about feeding?"
"Good," you said automatically. "We're getting into a rhythm."
It wasn't entirely a lie. You and Love had found a routine of sorts, even if it involved more formula supplementation than you'd wanted to admit. Your milk supply had continued to dwindle despite every intervention you'd tried.
"And how are you doing, Y/N?" Dr. Patel asked, setting down her pen and really looking at you. "How are you feeling?"
"Fine," you said. "Tired, but that's normal with a newborn."
Dr. Patel nodded, but her expression remained attentive. "Any concerns? Anxiety? Mood changes?"
Something in her tone made you shift uncomfortably in your chair. "Nothing unusual. Just the normal adjustment period."
"Mmm." Dr. Patel was quiet for a moment, studying your face with the kind of attention that made you want to fidget. "Y/N, are you familiar with the term 'baby blues'?"
Your back straightened automatically. "It's just stress. A lot is happening right now – Lewis is starting with Ferrari, we have three kids, it's busy."
"Of course. But sometimes what feels like stress can be something more. Postpartum depression affects many women, especially after multiple pregnancies in a short time." Dr. Patel's voice was gentle but persistent. "It's nothing to be ashamed of."
"I don't have postpartum depression," you said quickly. "I'm just tired. And adjusting. It's completely normal."
Dr. Patel nodded, but she was reaching into her desk drawer. "I'm going to give you some information, just in case. And the contact for a therapist who specializes in postpartum mental health."
She held out a card with a woman's name and phone number printed in elegant script. You took it reflexively, then immediately wanted to hand it back.
"I don't need this," you said.
"Maybe not. But having the information doesn't hurt." Dr. Patel's smile was understanding. "Y/N, there's no prize for struggling alone. If you were diabetic, you'd take insulin. If you had a broken arm, you'd wear a cast. Mental health is just health."
You nodded and tucked the card into your purse, knowing you'd probably throw it away the moment you got home. Because you didn't have postpartum depression. You had a new baby and two toddlers and a husband starting the biggest career change of his life.
You just needed to try harder.
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Colorado was a winter wonderland.
Snow blanketed the mountains around the house, turning everything soft and pristine. The girls were beside themselves with excitement, having spent the morning building snowmen with Lewis's parents while you caught up on sleep.
For the first time in weeks, you felt something like peace.
"Mummy, look what we made!" Leia called from outside, where she and Lake had constructed what appeared to be a snow family, complete with stick arms and carrot noses.
"It's beautiful, sweetheart," you called back through the window, Love content in your arms for once.
Your milk supply had finally stabilized, helped by the rest and reduced stress. Love had settled into something resembling a routine. You'd even managed to do yoga that morning for the first time since her birth.
Maybe Dr. Patel had been wrong. Maybe it really had just been stress and exhaustion. Maybe you were finally getting your groove back.
"How are you feeling?" Lewis asked, appearing in the kitchen with rosy cheeks and snow in his hair.
"Good," you said, and meant it. "Really good. Like myself again."
Lewis smiled, the kind of smile that crinkled his eyes. "I can see it. You look... lighter."
"I feel lighter. I think I was just overwhelmed with everything happening at once. But we're finding our rhythm."
"Good." Lewis pulled you closer, careful not to disturb Love. "Because I have an idea."
"What kind of idea?"
"Aspen. Just you and me, for the weekend. Mum and Dad can watch the girls, and we can just... reconnect."
The suggestion sent a flutter of anxiety through your chest. "I don't know if I should leave Love. She's still so little."
"She'll be fine with Mum and Linda. They raised kids, remember?" Lewis's voice was gentle but persuasive. "When's the last time we had time just for us?"
You couldn't remember. Between Love's birth and Lewis's farewell tour and the constant demands of daily life, you and Lewis had barely had a proper conversation in weeks, let alone time alone together.
"What about her feeding schedule?" you asked.
"We've got enough pumped milk to last the weekend. And if not, formula won't kill her." Lewis studied your face. "Baby, when's the last time you did something just for you?"
The question hit harder than it should have. You couldn't remember that either.
"Okay," you said finally. "But just one night."
"Two nights," Lewis negotiated. "I already booked us somewhere special."
Despite your lingering anxiety, you felt a smile tug at your lips. "You were pretty confident I'd say yes."
"I was hopeful." Lewis kissed your forehead. "You deserve to be taken care of, Y/N. Let me take care of you."
The words settled something in your chest you hadn't realized was wound tight. When was the last time someone had taken care of you instead of the other way around?
"Okay," you said again, more firmly this time. "Two nights."
Lewis's smile was radiant. "I'm going to spoil you rotten."
"I'm holding you to that."
yourusername and 2 others • Bing Crosby's “Winter Wonderland”
liked by lewishamilton, scuderiaferrari, fencer, f1, britishvogue, and others
The next morning arrived with reluctant goodbyes and detailed instructions.
You stood in the kitchen, Love sleeping peacefully in Carmen's arms, while you rattled off feeding schedules and nap times with the intensity of a military briefing that your retired Army commander father would be proud of.
"And she likes to be swaddled tight for sleep, but not too tight around her hips. And if she gets fussy after eating, sometimes holding her upright for ten minutes helps. Oh, and the white noise machine—"
"Y/N, love," Linda interrupted gently, a knowing smile on her face. "We've done this before, remember? We raised kids of our own."
"I know, I just—" You caught yourself mid-sentence, recognizing the spiral for what it was. "Sorry. I'm being ridiculous."
"You're being a mum," Carmen said warmly, adjusting Love in her arms with practiced ease. "But we've got this. Three kids, including one baby? We could do this in our sleep."
Lewis appeared in the doorway with your weekend bag, looking unfairly handsome in his ski jacket and that easy smile that still made your stomach flutter.
"Ready, beautiful?"
You looked around the kitchen one more time – Leia and Lake happily eating pancakes, Love content in Carmen's arms, Linda already planning activities for the weekend. Everything was under control.
So why did leaving feel like jumping off a cliff?
"I guess," you said, then immediately felt guilty for not sounding more excited.
Lewis must have caught your hesitation because he crossed the kitchen to where you stood, his hands settling on your shoulders.
"We can stay if you want," he said quietly. "If you're not ready."
Part of you wanted to take the out. To say you weren't ready, that Love was too young, that you needed to be here. But Lewis was looking at you with such gentle understanding, and you realized this wasn't just about what you needed – it was about what you both needed.
"No," you said more firmly. "I want to go. I need to go."
"You sure?"
Instead of answering, you kissed him – soft and quick, but real. "I'm sure."
The drive to Aspen was stunning, winding through snow-covered mountains that looked like something from a postcard. Lewis took the Range Rover for the weekend, and you found yourself actually relaxing as the Colorado landscape rolled past the windows.
"Feel that?" Lewis asked as you curved around another mountain bend.
"What?"
"Your shoulders. They're not up around your ears anymore."
You rolled your shoulders experimentally, surprised to realize he was right. "Huh. I didn't even notice."
"You've been carrying tension like that for weeks," Lewis said, reaching over to squeeze your thigh. "I was starting to worry you'd given yourself a permanent crick."
"I've been stressed," you admitted. "About everything. Love, the girls, your Ferrari move, just... everything."
"I know. That's why we're doing this." Lewis's voice was warm. "When's the last time you did something just for you?"
The question hit you harder than it should have. You couldn't remember the last time you'd done anything that wasn't related to the kids or Lewis's career or managing the household. Even the yoga classes you used to love had been sacrificed to make time for everything else.
"I can't remember," you said quietly.
"Exactly. So this weekend is about you. About us. About remembering who we are when we're not just Mummy and Daddy."
The idea was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying. Who were you when you weren't taking care of someone else? You weren't sure you remembered.
The Aspen resort was a winter fairy tale.
Your suite had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking snow-covered peaks, a fireplace that crackled invitingly, and a bathroom bigger than most bedrooms. Lewis had arranged everything – champagne chilling in ice, rose petals scattered across the bed, candles flickering on every surface.
"This is incredible," you breathed.
"Only the best for my wife," he said, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "You deserve to be spoiled."
The word 'spoiled' made something tighten in your chest. You weren't used to being spoiled anymore. You were used to doing the spoiling – making sure everyone else was comfortable and happy and taken care of.
"I don't need all this," you said, though you didn't pull away from his embrace.
"I know you don't need it. That's not the point." Lewis pressed a kiss to your temple. "The point is that you deserve it. That you deserve to feel special and beautiful and taken care of. This weekend, I want you to remember what it feels like to be Y/N. Not Love's mum or Leia and Lake's mum or my wife. Just Y/N." His grip tightened around your waist. "Think you can do that?"
The request felt impossible and necessary in equal measure. "I can try."
"That's all I ask."
The dinner reservation was at an intimate restaurant tucked into the mountainside. You found yourself actually tasting your food for the first time in months, engaging in conversation that didn't revolve around feeding schedules or sleep routines.
"So Ferrari wants me in Maranello at the end of the month," Lewis said over dessert. "Full testing program, meeting the team."
"That's exciting," you said, though the thought of him leaving again made your chest tight.
"Come with me. Bring the girls. The kids could practice their Italian." Lewis reached across the table. "I want you there for this."
The logistics felt overwhelming immediately. "Lewis, Love is barely two months old. Traveling with three kids so much..."
"We'd have help. The team would arrange everything." Lewis's voice was gentle but persuasive. "It's a big moment. I want my family there."
You wanted to say yes. Part of you desperately wanted to be there for Lewis's first steps with Ferrari. But the thought of managing three kids in a foreign country while still feeling like you were barely managing at home felt impossible.
"Let me think about it," you said.
Lewis nodded, though you caught the flash of disappointment. "Of course. Whatever you're comfortable with."
But there was pressure, wasn't there? The pressure to be the supportive wife, to make everything work, to say yes to adventures because that's what Lewis Hamilton's wife did.
The conversation moved on, but something had shifted. You could feel Lewis watching you more carefully, like he was trying to solve a puzzle.
Back in the suite, Lewis built up the fire while you changed into silk pajamas you'd packed but never wore at home. They felt too delicate for real life, too impractical for the constant demands of motherhood.
"Better?" Lewis asked as you settled on the couch beside him.
"Much." You curled against his side, feeling your shoulders drop for the first time in weeks.
You watched the flames dance in comfortable silence, Lewis's arms around you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. This was nice. This was what you'd been missing – just being together without the constant demands of everything else.
"Y/N," Lewis said quietly.
"Mmm?"
"Are you happy?"
The question caught you off guard. "What do you mean?"
"I mean are you happy? Really happy, not just getting through each day." Lewis shifted so he could see your face. "Because lately you seem like you're just... surviving."
The word hit like a physical blow because it was so accurate. You had been surviving – checking off tasks, managing crises, making it through each day. But happiness? That felt like something that happened to other people.
"I'm fine," you said automatically.
"You keep saying that. But I'm starting to wonder if you even remember what fine feels like."
Something cracked in your chest at his words. Because he was right – you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt genuinely okay, let alone happy.
"I love our family," you said instead of answering directly. "I love you, I love the girls."
"I know you do. That's not what I'm asking." Lewis's voice was gentle but persistent. "I'm asking about you. How are you doing?"
The tears came without warning, hot and sudden. "I don't know."
Lewis pulled you closer immediately. "Hey, it's okay. What's wrong?"
"I don't know," you repeated, and your voice broke on the words. "I can't tell the difference anymore between being tired and being sad."
"Oh, baby." Lewis's arms tightened around you. "How long have you been feeling like this?"
"Since Love was born. Maybe before." The words spilled out now that you'd started. "Everyone keeps asking if I'm okay, and I keep saying yes because I should be okay. I have everything. Beautiful family, husband I adore, healthy kids. What do I have to be sad about?"
"You don't need a reason," Lewis said firmly. "Your body's been through massive changes. You're exhausted and overwhelmed. Of course you're having a hard time."
"But I should be better at this by now. This is my third baby."
"Says who?"
The question stopped you short. "Says... everyone? I'm not a first-time mum. I should know what I'm doing."
"Every baby is different. Every recovery is different." Lewis's voice was getting firmer. "You're not superhuman, Y/N."
"Sometimes I feel like I need to be." The admission felt dangerous. "Being your wife comes with expectations. I'm supposed to have it all together."
"Not from me you don't."
"From everyone else. The media, the fans, even our families sometimes." Your voice was shaking now. "They watch everything – how I look, how I parent, how I support you. And I feel like I'm failing at all of it."
"You're not failing at anything."
"I am though. I can barely keep up with the kids. I'm snapping at people who are trying to help. I hide in pantries to cry." The confession slipped out before you could stop it.
Lewis went very still. "You hide in pantries to cry?"
Heat flooded your face. "It's nothing. I just sometimes need a minute alone."
"That's not nothing, Y/N." Lewis's voice was gentle but concerned. "How long has this been going on?"
"It's just stress. New baby stress. It's normal."
"Is it?" Lewis shifted so he could see your face fully. "Baby, look at me."
Reluctantly, you met his eyes. The concern there made your chest tight.
"Don't do that," he said softly.
"Do what?"
"Don't minimize what you just told me. Don't pretend it's fine when you're clearly struggling."
"I'm not struggling." But your voice cracked on the words.
"You're crying in a mountain resort telling me you hide in pantries. That's not normal adjustment." Lewis cupped your face gently. "That sounds like you need help."
"I don't need therapy."
Lewis blinked. "I didn't say therapy."
"Didn't you?" But even as you said it, you realized he hadn't. Your mind had jumped there defensively.
"Although," Lewis continued carefully, "would that be such a terrible thing? If talking to someone helped?"
"I can talk to you."
"And I'm grateful for that. But baby, I'm not objective about this. I love you too much to see clearly sometimes." Lewis's thumb brushed away a tear. "I just want you to be okay. Really okay."
"I am okay," you said weakly.
"Are you?"
The question hung between you, heavy with truth you didn't want to face. Were you okay? You loved your family fiercely, but happiness felt like a luxury you couldn't afford. Joy felt like something that happened to other people.
"I don't know," you whispered finally.
"That's okay. Not knowing is okay." Lewis pulled you closer. "But hiding it isn't helping anyone."
You cried then, months of held-back emotion spilling over. Lewis held you through it, not trying to fix anything, just being there while you fell apart.
"I'm scared," you admitted when the tears slowed.
"Of what?"
"Of admitting I need help. Of people thinking I can't handle being your wife." Your voice was small. "Of you realizing I'm not as strong as you thought."
"Y/N, asking for help doesn't make you weak. It makes you brave." Lewis's voice was firm. "And anyone who thinks less of you for taking care of yourself isn't worth worrying about."
"But what if—"
"What if nothing." Lewis tilted your chin up so you had to meet his eyes. "I fell in love with you because you're real and honest and brave. Not because you're perfect."
The words settled something in your chest that had been wound tight for months.
"I found the card," Lewis said quietly.
Your blood went cold. "What card?"
"The therapist referral. It was in your jacket pocket when I was packing."
Defensive anger flared. "You were going through my pockets?"
"I was packing your things for this trip. I wasn't snooping." Lewis's voice remained calm. "But I found it. How long have you been carrying it around?"
"It doesn't matter. I don't need it."
"Maybe you do. Maybe we both do." Lewis's hands framed your face. "There's nothing wrong with getting help, baby."
"There's nothing wrong with me," you said, but your voice shook.
"I didn't say there was. I said maybe we could use some support figuring this out."
You wanted to argue, to insist you were fine, but sitting here in Lewis's arms with tears still wet on your cheeks, the pretense felt exhausting.
"You think I'm broken," you whispered.
"I think you're a person going through something hard who deserves support." Lewis's voice was soft but sure. "That's not broken. That's human."
"I don't want to be weak."
"Taking care of yourself isn't weak. It's the strongest thing you can do."
You cried again, quieter this time, Lewis holding you steady while your world rearranged itself around this new possibility – that maybe you didn't have to carry everything alone.
"Okay," you said finally.
"Okay?"
"I'll call her."
Lewis's smile was soft with relief. "Good. And in the meantime, we're going to figure out how to get you more support at home."
"I don't know how to let people help differently than I would do things."
"We'll work on that too." Lewis pressed a kiss to your forehead. "One step at a time."
Oook… so I’m here wanting to start writing some fics about Lewis but not know which plot 🤷🏽♀️ also trying to improve my English as it not my first language
Buuuut… I’m also worried I won’t be able to post as much as I wish…
the way the stands went silent and the cameras turned to the garage looking incredibly glum i’m crying that guy really takes away all the passion from this sport
It’s very, very close. It might be announced at the end of the year. I might keep you waiting! Honestly, I don’t have any more information for you to share. It continues to be with the lawyers, back and forth on things.
I’ve not been part of it the whole time. I’ve been removed from it from the beginning. I’ve been wanting to focus on all the other things I have going on. The team has been working on it in the background. There’s no negotiation left. It’s just all the small bits. - LH
Warnings: Swearing, Derogatory Language, 18+ (mentions of sexual acts and dirty talk), Physical Violence, Jealousy, Toxicity, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Mentions of Forced Sexual Contact (only alluded to, not done, no S/A), Not Edited
Word Count: 5.7k+
Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.
Notes: My sincerest apologies for the wait and thank you all for your patience. If you thought we had drama before hand, welcome to the rodeo, it's only gotten worse. Get ready to hate Lewis a bit, but it's well deserved. I will try to get the next part up this week, hopefully before race weekend really kicks off!
I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx
Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four
“Can we talk?”
Those words have been rattling around in your head for almost a day now, ready to burst out of you at a moment's notice but never surfacing. Lewis hasn’t approached you and you almost didn’t expect him to, he’s been acting relatively normal for the last day. It’s been more than twenty four hours since everyone went on the hike and he’s been acting as if everything is completely fine. You gave him an olive branch and he grew a tree. You didn’t even really mean to give him the room that you had, it just felt so natural, so carefree. You could tell Charlotte has been concerned, keeping an eye on you at all times, even if from a distance. Her energy is the only thing in the house that truly seems off. You and Lewis may not be interacting exactly how you normally would, but there’s no hostility, no particular avoidance of each other. There’s almost part of you that wants to throw everything out the window and just let yourselves exist in this space, whatever it may be. The other part of you was worried that this was a survival tactic on both of your parts, just trying to get through vacation and in the end it would all come crashing down around you. You couldn’t let that happen.
You were lounging out by the pool, book in hand and a margarita nearby. The sun was warming your skin perfectly and you felt completely at peace, putting everything to the side as you engrossed yourself in the crime novel in front of you.
“You’re getting rather toasty.” You heard his voice come from next to you.
You looked up to find Lewis standing just above you, an accusatory raised brow, knowing you hadn’t applied sunblock in the last few hours. You noticed the spray can in his hand and huffed, you knew that if he’s finally acting normal with you, he would insist on you seeking shade or putting on more sunscreen.
“Fine.” You deadpanned, reaching out for the bottle as you stood up, stepping away from him in hopes of not suffocating him with sunscreen.
You could feel his eyes on you the entire time, not in the way they usually would be though. This stare wasn’t to unabashedly check you out, his eyes weren’t undressing you the way they may have in the past. This stare was gauging you, he was trying to look through your skull and into your brain, desperately attempting to read every thought you had on him in that moment. You knew he wouldn’t be able to read you that easily, not when you didn’t even know what your own thoughts were.
You finished applying your sunscreen turning back toward him, he quickly glanced away from you before finally making eye contact, trying to hide his previous gaze. It was no use, you already knew.
“All good?” He asked you as you handed him the bottle, once again his question was not in the context of the moment. He was asking a million different things with only two words. You didn’t know how to respond, simply settling for a small “Thanks” before returning to your seat and picking your book up once more.
Before you fell back into your story, you noticed Charlotte send Lewis a look of warning from where she sat across the patio. You assumed she had spoken to him, he was evidently aware that she knew of the situation. Miles seemed to be picking up on the unspoken energy as well, frequently checking on you out of the corner of his eye when he thought you weren’t looking.
As the sun began to set it was decided that the evening would be spent out. Charlotte wanted to dance and it took little convincing of the others. You quickly found yourself dressed in an outfit Charlotte had insisted you wear, an earthy toned dress with a cutout just above your belly button and a twist of fabric in between your breasts. You felt good, it hugged every curve perfectly and was just short enough that it showed off your thighs but still long enough you weren't concerned about flashing anyone. Once you were ready it didn't take long before you were being ushered into a waiting sprinter van. The drive would be incredibly short but none of you trusted yourselves to walk home later in the night, a chauffeur being a much better option. You were admittedly a bit anxious about the evening, knowing what nights out like this could quickly turn into. After a night of drinking and partying, it was rare that Lewis went home alone, but it was even rarer that he was able to keep his hands and attention off of you throughout the night, even when entertaining other company.
Many nights had been spent in dark, sweaty night clubs, everyone dancing, drinking, and laughing. People would usually end up invading your group, always drawn toward Lewis. He rarely turned down the attention, his ego thriving on it. Despite the women that would usually surround him, he always found a way to get to you. Pulling you to the dance floor when a song he knew you liked came on, bringing you drinks when he noticed yours was getting low, pulling you to the side to check if you were okay with attention you had drawn from another man. He always made sure you were okay and having fun, even if he was chatting up a random woman or women in an attempt to not spend his night alone. You had always noted his playboy activities, not really caring but finding them rather amusing. The women he was with never seemed to notice or truly didn’t care, as long as they got their one night with the godlike man. Many times you found yourself dancing with him, possibly closer than you should but he was never disrespectful about it, his hands would always roam but never to a point that you felt like he was truly trying something. You had never really thought anything of it seeing as you would frequently dance with Miles or Daniel too, they were always more reserved but you always chalked it up to personalities. Everyone danced with everyone, it’s how it always worked and it was always fun. Now you found yourself wondering just how your night would play out, how different things would be. He had been acting so comfortably around you recently that you worried he would be the same as always, but at the same time you kind of hoped it would stay the same.
The bar was partially indoors and partially outdoors, a large dance floor spanning from the patio into the open wall leading inside. It was positioned perfectly on the beach, giving a nice view of the moon's reflection off the ocean water. The music was notably louder indoors than it was out and you found yourselves claiming a table on the patio. Lewis and Miles had beelined to the bar, fighting over who was starting the tab as they ordered a round of tequila shots. Lewis seemingly won the argument, making his way to the table with a smug look on his face while Miles followed behind, certainly less amused. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the two men, grown adults who still seemed like teenagers half the time. Miles plopped down next to you, his arm draping over the back of your chair as he leaned back. You hadn’t noticed it at first but he slid a drink in front of you, matching his own.
“You seem like you could use a head start.” He said as he leaned down closer to your ear, making it so only you could hear him.
He pulled back with a large smile, bringing his own drink into the air, leaning it towards yours for a ‘cheers’.
“Here’s to having a fucking blast.” He said to you, everyone else distracted in their own conversation.
You smiled, grateful for his energy as you met his glass with your own before taking a much welcome sip of what turned out to be a Mojito. The shots arrived shortly after, everyone eagerly grabbing them. As everyone met their glasses in the middle of the table Miles once again repeated his toast, much louder this time, being met with hoots and hollers from your friends before downing their shots. You knew it was silly, but in that moment you wanted to freeze time. This was what you had wanted this vacation to be, carefree fun with people you loved. In no time at all Charlotte had pulled you and Miles out onto the floor, jumping and dancing in an uncoordinated way that made the both of you laugh but eventually join her in her antics. You had noticed that Lewis had disappeared indoors, you assumed in search of another drink, but you did your best to ignore it, hoping to just have fun.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed but you didn’t care, your face hurt from smiling so much and your stomach was tight from laughter. You felt light, a few more drinks in your system loosening you up quite a bit. You had left your friends at the dancefloor, heading to find a bathroom with Steph. The two of you were in a fit of giggles, apologizing as you bumped into other tipsy patrons. Your stomach flipped when you saw him, he had been gone for most of the evening. Lewis was leaning up against the bar, a warm smile and kind eyes directed at the bar tender. You could see the alcohol he had consumed across his face, his eyes lazier than normal but still as charming as ever. The woman he was talking to was absolutely beautiful, an equally warm smile on her own face. They looked familiar with each other, you watched as she reached out to squeeze his hand as she laughed, his face lighting up as well. Your mind wandered back to the night he had disappeared after the blow up with Talia. He had told you that he had gone to a bar nearby, went home with one of the hostesses. You still don’t know what truly happened that night, having heard him tell Charlotte a much different story, one that confused you even more. Was he really already finding someone to sleep with?
“Bitch, you comin’?” Stephs voice pulled you out of your trance, a drunken smile on her face as she waited for you.
“I need some air.” You said quickly, turning around and rushing back out to the patio.
You weren’t looking where you were going, just needing to get out of the room as soon as possible. You only stopped when you crashed into a broad frame, a cold drink running down your chest.
“Fuck.” You yelped. The ice felt like it could sizzle against your hot skin.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” A man's voice rushed out, “you okay? Here let me get some napkins.”
“It’s my fault, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You almost laughed, still looking down to assess the damage to your dress.
When you finally did look up at the man who was now offering you stacks of napkins, you were stunned. He was painfully handsome, tan skin, big brown eyes, and a beautiful smile. You immediately noticed the similarities to Lewis and you wanted to slap yourself for even making the comparison.
“Not that it makes it any better, but it was just Vodka Soda so at least it won’t stain.” He laughed kindly, still handing you napkins, so many more than you needed.
“It’s fine, it cooled me off.” You joke, enjoying the distraction from the beautiful stranger.
“How about I get you a drink to make it up to you?” He offered, still standing rather close to you.
“You know what, I’ll take you up on that.” You laughed again, amused at the turn of events.
Before he could even step away you felt the presence of someone next to you, then a large hand on your back. You turned to see Miles, his eyes assessing you before turning to your new friend.
“We having a good time over here?” Miles asked, his eyes shifting back to you to gauge your response.
“Yeah,” You nodded with a smile, “Miles, this is, um.” You stuttered as you realized you didn’t even know his name yet.
The man laughed, “Jaden.” He stuck his hand out toward Miles, offering a handshake.
“Nice to meet you man, I’m Miles, Y/N’s bodyguard.” He said teasingly as he returned the handshake. You knew he was only half joking and you could tell Jaden was aware as well.
“Good to see she’s got people looking out for her.” Jaden acknowledged, a kind smile on his face.
“Why don’t you guys come join us, we’re just outside.” Miles nodded his head back towards your table where you could see Charlotte and Steph watching the situation.
Charlotte wiggled her eyebrows at you over Miles’ shoulder, mouthing a ‘wow’ as she looked Jaden over. You couldn’t help but giggle, returning your attention to the men in front of you. You knew Miles’ offer was his way of letting you have fun and keeping an eye on you, or moreso keeping an eye on Jaden.
“Sounds good to me, I was just gonna grab Y/N and I some drinks and then I’ll be right over.” Jaden said, nodding eagerly at the idea of spending more time with you.
“I was headed to the bar myself, why don’t I join you.” Miles said before directing his attention back to you, “You wanna go find Char back at the table and we’ll be right over?”
You nodded, smiling at him before telling Jaden you would see him in just a moment. You watched for a second as they got up to the bar, noting how Miles perched himself directly next to Jaden, keeping an eye on your drink like a poppa bear. You smiled to yourself, amused but grateful for how protective he could be. Instead of immediately heading to the table you passed it, stepping out onto the sand and slightly out toward the ocean. The music was quieter and you could hear the ocean better. You let the cool ocean breeze wash over you, grateful for the moment of brief peace. It wasn’t allowed to last long as you heard the familiar accent from behind you, slightly lazy with his words from the alcohol.
“I usually keep your glass full, sorry, I’ve been slacking tonight.” Lewis said, coming to stand beside you with a glass extended in your direction.
When you turned to look at him he had a lazy smirk on his face, once again gesturing the glass toward you to take. You knew it would be a gin and tonic, your favorite.
“It’s been more of a tequila and rum kind of night.” You say, unsure how to reject his offer.
“Really?” Is all he says, an amused tint to his voice.
You're not sure not to navigate this situation with him, unclear if it's the alcohol that is making him act so calm or if it's that he truly thinks everything is back to normal. You don’t have to sit in silence for long as Jaden comes up next to you, just as Lewis is opening his mouth to speak.
“There you are, Miles has your drink back at the table.” Jaden says, coming in rather close to you and placing his hand on your lower back. You feel as if it's a way of making sure Lewis knows that he is your company for the rest of the night, marking territory that isn’t rightfully his. You should, but you don’t brush him off, enjoying the way that Lewis tenses when he sees the action.
“You are?” Lewis asks, a noticeable gruffness to his tone.
“Jaden, Y/N's new friend.” Jaden's smile is cocky, like he can tell Lewis is displeased.
“Well, it sounds like you’re good on drinks then.” Lewis says to you, ignoring Jaden after giving him a once over. His voice is clipped and almost condescending, if you were a worse person you would slap him, but instead you just roll your eyes as he turns on his heel and walks away without another word.
“Who was that?” Jaden asks you once Lewis is out of earshot.
You’re rather amused that he doesn’t know, it’s a rarity that Lewis is unknown but you can’t help but enjoy it.
“Don’t worry about it, he’s just an ass.” You say brushing the subject off as you grab his hand and head back toward the table.
When you arrive Lewis is once again nowhere to be seen and you see Miles with two drinks in front of him, the full glass directly in front of his chest, kept close to him.
“For me?” You point at the glass with a giggle.
“For you.” He says with a laugh and a wink, extending the glass to you.
“Come on, let’s go dance.” Jaden says in your ear, gently pulling you toward the dance floor.
“Go have fun.” Charlotte tells you enthusiastically, wiggling her eyebrows at you again. You can’t help but laugh, allowing yourself to be pulled out to the floor.
You let yourself get loose, dancing up against him as his hand without his drink wanders across your stomach, pulling you close to him. You can feel a growing bulge against your ass as you dance with him, allowing him to nibble on your neck as you lean your head against his shoulder. The dance floor begins to crowd, everyone dancing with each other as their drinks kick in. You’ve moved further away from your table now but you can’t bring yourself to care. You catch a glimpse of Lewis out of the corner of your eye, he’s taking another tequila shot, licking the salt off of a blonde woman's neck. You roll your eyes, used to his antics, trying not to let it bother you. You have no right to be bothered, you’re acting just like him. You turn around to face Jaden, resting your arms over his shoulder as you lean in closer, your hips still moving with his. He leans down, placing another kiss to your neck before coming up in front of you, moving in toward your lips. You let him kiss you, there’s no fire, you don’t melt into it, but it feels nice. In the back of your head there’s an annoyance, angered that you're comparing his kiss to Lewis. You break from the kiss, turning back around to continue grinding on him. You hear him groan into your ear and it does nothing to you, you are a little turned on but nothing like Lewis had you in half the time. As the thought crosses your mind you open your eyes and immediately connect with his. Lewis is across the dance floor, a blonde woman dancing on him in a very similar way, but his full attention is on you. His eyes are filled with lust and you want to tell yourself it’s all from the woman grinding on him but you can’t help but feel that’s not entirely true. You don’t know how long he’s been watching you but you know it’s been a while. As you study his face, you see it, anger. You look away from him, turning your attention back to Jaden who is getting more explorative with his hands. This isn’t like you, letting a stranger feel you up in the middle of a club, but you can’t help but feel like you deserve the fun, deserve the thrill. It is vacation after all.
“Fuck babygirl.” Jaden whispers in your ear, his hand squeezing your hip.
He pulls away slightly, downing his drink as you do the same.
“I’ll get another round,” He says over the music, “you stay right here.”
You just nod, carrying on with your dancing. It’s not long before you know Lewis is there. When you turn around, he’s much closer than you expected, his chest almost touching yours. As if he’s allowed to, he grabs your hips, pulling you into him.
“What the hell has gotten into you, hmm?” He asks, his lips coming down to your ear.
He’s guiding you to dance with him, your singular attempt to push him away futile. His body up against yours feels better than it should and you let your alcohol foggy brain enjoy it for a moment. He feels better up against you than Jaden had and you hate it.
“Letting some random man dance with you like that?” He continues, his voice taunting, “Why would you go do something like that when I’m right here?”
He turns you around, pulling you even closer to him so your ass is right against his crotch. You feel it again, that same bulge that you felt the other day in his bedroom, the same one that had you weak in the knees with desire. You do your best to push past it, not wanting to let him win as you realize you already are.
“Because you’re you Lewis.” You sigh out, your voice betraying you as he leans down to nibble on your neck, much the same way Jaden just had. Unfortunately you can’t help but note that the way Lewis does it feels so much better. You try to put some space between you two but his grip is firm.
“What's that supposed to mean? You seemed to be enjoying it when I had you whimpering on my fingers, just think about what my cock would feel like. I would take such good care of you Y/N. I’d make you feel so, so good. Have that pretty pussy creaming all over me, over and over again. And fuck, I just know you taste like heaven, want you soaking my beard, letting me drink you up. You want that?” His rambling into your neck is breathy, working himself up as he talks. You know he’s drunk, can hear it in his voice. You want to push him away but you’re just as drunk and his promises sound like heaven on earth. What you don’t know is the mean game that he’s playing, he knows Jaden can see you, your head on Lewis’ shoulder as he palms at your tit. He’s making sure that Jaden knows you’re his whether you are or not. His ego and his jealousy a raging fire. He licks at your neck reminding you of the women he was with just a moment ago.
“Mmmm, the blonde didn’t work out for you I see.” You taunt him, making sure he’s thoroughly aware you saw him. You know he knows but you feel the need to rub it in.
“I could take her into the bathroom right now if I wanted to and we both know that, but right now I want you.” He groans the end of his sentence into your neck as he pulls you in hard against him.
You fight against everything within you that wants to let him take you home and make good on his promises. You know deep down it's a horrible idea and even what you’ve allowed him to do so far has only worsened the situation, you know you'll regret it in the morning.
“That’s exactly the problem, it’s just right now.” You say as you finally push him away, putting distance between you as you turn around to face him. His eyes are dark and he’s breathing heavy, he looks so painfully turned on that you're half tempted to put him out of his misery, but he made sure you knew that you weren't the only one who could do so.
“No, not just right now, always.” He shakes his head, trying to step towards you again but you back up, your hand in front of you, “I always want you, always have.”
You’re unaware that Jaden had started to make his way back over to you, getting closer by the second, already pissed off by what he just saw.
“We’re not having this conversation when you’re this drunk Lewis.” Your head sobering up a bit at his words, confusion running through your body.
“Baby, please just hear me out.” He pleads with you.
“This isn’t the time or the place for whatever the hell this is. You don’t get to do this just because your horny and want a quick fuck. I’ve seen you with multiple women tonight so don’t come over here and attempt to ruin our friendship.” Your voice is harsh, trying to get your point across.
“Oh so it’s entirely my fault? You let me have you for thirty seconds and then decide that I’m the bad guy when you get just enough? You’re a fucking tease. You could have stopped me the other day, you could have stopped me right now, but instead you indulge, get just enough for a thrill and then tell me I’m an asshole.” His voice is equally as harsh, alcohol induced anger bubbling to the surface.
“Really? You think that’s what I’m doing? Indulging in my best friend taking advantage of me?” Your voice is getting louder now and you notice some heads turning towards you. You know that saying he’s taking advantage of you is harsh and definitely a bit of an exaggeration but it felt the best way to get your point across.
You see his face twinge at the comment before softening, you can see the remorse across his features.
“Is there a problem over here?” Jaden's voice comes from behind you.
You had almost entirely forgotten about him, too distracted by Lewis.
“How about you mind your business man.” Lewis says, looking past you towards the man.
“Well if it involves my girl I think it’s my business.” Jaden says, stepping up behind you.
Lewis’ scoff is loud as you almost laugh, “Your girl?” You both say in unison.
“Fuck off dude, I know you saw how she was dancing with me, your times up, move on.” Lewis continues and you wish you could muzzle him right now.
“Well from the sounds of things she wasn’t particularly enjoying it, and it sounds like that's not the first time.” Jaden says, stepping in front of you slightly.
“It’s not like that, it came out wrong.” You try your best to reason with Jaden, grabbing his arm in an attempt to stop him from moving any further.
“Sure as hell didn’t sound it.” Jaden's voice is stern as he stares Lewis down.
Jaden is a few inches taller than Lewis, not by much but it's just noticeable. Lewis however is much more built, broad shoulders and biceps the size of both of Jaden's combined. You can tell Lewis is posturing, returning Jadens stare with just as much intensity. It worries you, you know Lewis is already pissed off and very drunk. You’ve never seen him be physical, hell you’ve barely ever seen him truly angry, but you’ve heard stories from his past, you know he can fight and he will never allow himself to be backed into a corner.
“How about you let my friend and I deal with our own problems mate.” Lewis bites.
“From how she talks about you I don’t think you’re exactly her fucking friend.” Jaden says, taking yet another step forward, brushing off your grasp on his arm.
“Guys, this is stupid. Lewis let’s just go.” You say, attempting to step around Jaden to get Lewis out of the bar before this escalates any further.
Before you can do that though, Jaden grabs your arm firmly, keeping you in place, “You’re not going anywhere with this jackass.”
Lewis’ eyes snap down to where your being held, the grip way too tight, “Get your fucking hands off of her, now.”
You wriggle your arm in his grasp, Jaden still not letting up.
“I said, get your fucking hands off of her, NOW.” Lewis’ voice is much louder than before as he steps forward. You're starting to attract attention and you're praying that in everyone's drunken stupor they don’t recognize the racing driver about to start a bar fight.
“Get off of me.” You try again to wriggle free from his grasp, him finally letting you go. You approach Lewis putting your hand on his chest, trying to push him towards the exit.
“Are you okay?” His voice has softened significantly, you can still hear the anger though.
“I’m fine, let’s just go.” You try again to get him out of the door before more people start paying attention. He doesn’t listen, instead grabs your hand gently, bringing it up in front of him to see the red mark around your forearm, the fingerprints firmly marked.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Lewis roars over your shoulder at Jaden.
“Lewis, please,” You plead desperately, “it doesn’t matter, let's just go home.”
“He fucking hurt you and you’re saying it doesn’t matter?” His tone is incredulous as he looks at you baffled, clearly not letting up.
“Bro, what the fuck’s going on over here.” Miles' voice comes from behind you and you thank god for your savior in that moment.
“This fucking douchebag was forcing himself on Y/N.” Jaden spits out, clearly thinking Miles will be on his side, unaware of the relationship.
“I highly fucking doubt it.” Miles says, disgust in his voice as he makes his way over toward where you and Lewis stand.
“She said it her fucking self dude, great fucking body guard you are.” Jaden says sarcastically, referencing his comment when they were introduced.
“What’s going on Y/N?” Miles says softly, coming to where you're still pressed against Lewis, trying your best to either calm him or hold him back.
“Nothing, we just need to leave.” You say firmly.
Miles nods, trying to grab Lewis’ arm to pull him to the door, knowing he won’t back down on whatever has him so mad, “Come on man, it’s not worth it.”
“Let’s just go home.” You say calmly, rubbing his chest, hoping to ease him.
Lewis reluctantly lets Miles start to pull him away, keeping his arm around you to keep you as close as possible to him. You don’t fight him on it, it’s not the time.
“Jesus, you’re really going home with that fuck? I guess a slut gets what’s coming to her.” Jaden scoffs.
His comment makes you stop, every ounce of your being wanting to turn around and punch him in the face, but you don’t get the chance, Miles is already on the move. His fist makes direct contact with Jadens cheek, knocking him to the side and almost taking him off his feet. Much to your surprise, it’s Lewis who springs forward and pulls Miles back, grunting something into his ear as he restrains him, pulling him backwards.
“What the fuck!” Charlotte screams, just approaching the situation.
“Fuck you, you’re all fucking insane.” Jaden yells, gripping his jaw, no one in the crowd even moving to help him.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Lewis grits out, pulling Miles back as he moves to grab for you as well.
Charlotte pays no mind, questioning Miles, “Miles, what the fuck was that, I’ve never seen you hit someone, what the fuck is going on?”
“Not now Charlotte.” Lewis says, somehow having become the calm one in the situation. Tears are streaming down your face as Lewis just about carries you out of the bar, Charlotte trailing along behind. You have no idea where everyone else is but right now you want to be as far away as possible.
The second your outside Lewis puts you down, cupping your face as you cry in front of him. He walks you away from the crowd outside the enterance before he pulls you hard into his chest, stroking your hair, letting you cry into his shirt.
“You're okay, it’s all okay.” He hushes you, trying to calm you down.
“No, it’s not all okay,” You suddenly scream at him as you push yourself off his chest, stepping away from him, your emotions from the last week have reached a peak, “neither of you, ever and I mean ever try to fucking fight someone for me again.”
You’re pointing hard at Lewis and Miles, who has since approached to check on you.
“Y/N-” Lewis tries to start.
“No, you don’t get to say the shit that you did or do the shit that you did and then try to fucking white knight all the sudden just because you’re jealous.” You scream at him.
“Baby, I just want to make sure you're okay.” Lewis pleads.
“Well I’m not,” You scream back, “none of this is okay. It hasn’t been since you tried to fuck me Lewis, I haven’t been okay. You have to have known that somewhere in the fucked up little brain of yours. And then you go and try to do it again? And even worse, blame me? Fuck you.”
Your words stop him dead in his tracks, you can see his mind reeling and guilt washing over his face.
“Honey-” Charlotte is slowly approaching you, trying to reason with you.
You don’t let her continue, “And both of you,” you direct your attention towards Miles who still seems to be in shock by your admission, “never fucking do that again, I’ll be damned if I see someone I love get hurt for me. I’ll let you know if I need help, don’t take it upon your fucking selves, I’m grown I can handle myself.”
Miles opens his mouth to speak but is evidently at a loss for words. Charlotte has stopped as well, unsure how to handle you in the moment.
“You know what, fuck this, I’m going home.” You say, tears still streaming down your cheeks as you throw your hands in the air, turning down towards the road to the house.
“Y/N please at least wait for the car, don’t walk home alone.” You hear Lewis call towards you, you can hear him following after you.
“Don’t” You whip around to yell at him, “do not follow me, please just fucking leave me alone.”
You turn back around, making your way down the road, no one follows you, leaving you in silence.
All you want to do is crumble into the ground and not get back up.
They should just get rid of that stupid cost cap, bring back the times when Merc wasn't even aware of how much a front wing cost, let James Allison perform his magic, I am tired of that cheater team
Summary: You're a 3rd driver for the Mercedes team, in a secret relationship with the team principal and you fill in for Lewis during the race. The car malfunctions, you completely lose control over the steering and can't avoid crashing. And it's bad.
Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!driver!reader
W/C: 6.1k
Rating: M. Car crash, talk about injuries and surgeries.
TWs: Car crash, near death injuries
A/N: I swear to gods, my mood when it comes to writing changes so quickly -,- It's dark, sad, and heavy. Also - like 90% of the fic is happening when the reader is in surgery, but the idea just dug it's claws into my brain and didn't want to let go.
Masterlist | List of tags
- Bono, something's wrong with the steering, there is a slight delay in response, and I'm unable to predict how much I should correct. - you were honestly getting scared. You didn't want to lose the 5th position, especially this late in the race. You knew yourself well enough that you could get at least 3rd before the end, but not with a car that behaved like that.
- I'm running the diagnostic now to see if we'll be able to do something about it remo... FUCK. CRASH. Be careful. - you instantly felt cold, but it wasn't your first time in a dangerous situation. When Bono told you about the crash, you hadn't seen it just yet, because it was hidden behind a turn, and as soon as you turned...
- Breaks are not working. And I completely lost control over the steering. - everything was happening in slow motion, and you couldn't do anything. There was no fancy "eject" button like in a James Bond movie; you were able to just watch and brace for impact. - Bono. I'm going to crash into them. Don't let me die. - you whispered, tears very slowly gathering in your eyes under the helmet.
You didn't say another word. You didn't swear, you didn't scream. You knew what was about to happen and somehow you managed to remain calm. You just fastened the straps holding you to the seat even more and held your arms close to your chest.
You heard people screaming over the comms, familiar voices full of panic and desperation but the one voice you were hoping to hear... wasn't there. So whatever others were saying didn't matter.
And then you were flying. The nose of your car wedged under someone else, and it sent you into a barrel on the track. You closed your eyes, not to get nauseous, but it was a small comfort, especially when the car turned to its side and continued to barrel toward the wall. How you were able to stay conscious for so long - you weren't sure, but then suddenly... there was nothing.
- TOTO, NO! YOU CAN'T GO THERE! THERE IS PROTOCOL!
- FUCK PROTOCOL!!! - he was trying his best to get from Bono's and Ricardo's strong arms, but they held him steady and didn't let him run out of the garage.
- Medics and the crew are already at the scene. She will be in the ambulance before you get to that part of the track. - James stepped in front of the man, blocking his way, and put his hand on his boss's chest stopping him from moving any further. No one ever saw Toto this distressed. Sure, he could get angry, but this... This was different. - Calm down and think.
- I... I can't. - his shoulders slumped and even though he wasn't trashing and trying to get out anymore, his thoughts were galloping at the speed of light, running through every possible scenario. - I just can't... - Bono and Ric loosened their grip on his body and exchanged a worried look with the technical director. - I don't know what to do... - he admitted, his voice completely broken.
- We're gonna get to the hospital and we'll go from there. - James realized it was his turn to think about everything, and even though he didn't completely understand why Toto reacted this way - he wanted to help in whatever way he could. All of the people in the garage were shaken up, but this... This was new. Toto was oozing fear and desperation from everywhere. His posture, his voice, the frantic look in his eyes... - Toto. - the technical director wasn't sure if his words even reached his friend, but Wolff finally nodded slowly. - Yeah...? - he made sure.
- Yeah. Hospital. Let's go. - he whispered eventually. He was in no condition to drive, so he let his friend do that. He didn't take his eyes from the view behind the window once, even though he was seeing none of what they were passing. He dug his nails into his knees, bit his lower lip until he drew blood, and tried his best not to break down completely. Not before he knew if you were dead or alive.
When they arrived at the hospital, Toto didn't even wait for James to park properly, he was out of the car as soon as they reached the entrance. He run into the emergency room and quickly located the admission desk, but before he said anything, he took one last, deep breath.
- Hello, my name is Toto Wolff. I'm the emergency contact for Y/n Y/l/n. I would like to know in what condition she's in. - his voice was surprisingly calm. Even in such a state, he knew that whatever happened wasn't the nurses' fault and he didn't want to take out whatever he felt on them.
- I have to confirm your identity first. Can I see your ID? - the old nurse asked, but she was already typing something on the keyboard. Toto frantically patted his pockets in search of a wallet, momentarily mortified, because he got afraid that he left it in his bag, in the garage, but James came to his rescue with said wallet. He quickly fished out his ID and presented it to the nurse.
- She was admitted about 10 minutes ago and is being prepped for the surgery. She already had a head CT, but there are no results yet. There is also no information about planned procedures. - she explained with a soft tone, even though the news she was sharing wasn't exactly... good.
- What does it mean...? - Toto asked, fearing the worst.
- It means there was a head injury and she's unconscious. They don't know exactly what's wrong, but it's serious enough for emergency surgery with neuro, orthopedic and cardiothoracic surgeons. - she added, quieter. Sure, she could have omitted a few facts, but something told her that it would have the opposite effect on the man in front of her.
- Her... Her heart...? - if he weren’t holding the high counter in front of the admission desk, he would have slumped to the floor.
- Or lungs. - she clarified. - I'm sorry I can't give you better news... But she's in the best hands in the country. I will ask one of our interns to take you to a waiting room... - she waved at one of the young men, who was currently filling out papers, and quickly told him what to do. - And sir... - she added, just when they were about to leave the area. - It will be a long surgery, but the longer the wait, the better. It means that she's still fighting. - that was the first thing that gave him hope... You were still alive. Still fighting. And you weren't the type of person who easily gave up.
Toto Wolff was not a religious man. He honestly couldn't remember when was the last time he visited any place of worship, but now... Now he was going through every prayer he knew. He begged every god, every angel, every demon, every saint he could think of, not to let you die, and if that's necessary - to take him instead. Logically he knew that wasn't possible, but he was willing to try everything, no matter how stupid it seemed at the moment.
James left his side only once, to get some shitty coffee from the machine, but it was left untouched in between Toto's feet. He didn't know what to say, what to do... Other people came and went. The pit crew, engineers, other team principals, drivers... A few stayed. Mostly other drivers, and from the closer circle - James, Bono, George... And Lewis - without even saying a word was on a video call with Bono, feeling extremely guilty.
- Did... - George finally broke the silence. - Did anyone call her family? - he asked, and Toto just clenched his fists.
- She doesn't have one. - he whispered eventually. - She's an only child and went no-contact with her parents just as she started racing. - he added and the others looked at him trying to hide the surprise. - She will kill anyone who’ll let them know about anything even remotely connected to her life. So as far as things go... she doesn't have a family. - he ended in a harsher tone than he intended and almost immediately sighed.
He was still in the clothes he was wearing during the race... The track pass was tucked in the pocket on his chest, and the headphones were still around his neck, but he didn't even notice them, and no one in the room dared to say a word.
Just as three hours passed since they arrived, a young-looking woman called out your last name, and the four men immediately stood up, three with hope, one in fear, because it was much too quick for the surgery to end.
- Hello, my name is Alex and I'm one of the residents helping with your... - she stuttered for a second, realizing she didn't know the relationship between her patient and the men in the waiting room. - With Y/n's surgery. We were able to stop the bleeding in her brain and remove all the debris lodged there without major issues. The head of neurosurgery is currently reversing all four of the aneurysms, but compared to what we already did - it's the easiest thing. - she started explaining and everyone except Toto sighed with relief.
- What else...? - he asked, afraid of the further news. - Please tell us everything, no matter how small or ugly. I need to know... - he pleaded, and James put his hand on his boss’s shoulder. There was some hesitation on the young doctor’s face, but eventually, she continued.
- Eight of her ribs are broken... Two of them were lodged in her right lung and the cardiothoracic surgeon was able to remove one and is working on the second. One pierced her kidney, but due to the positioning... The lungs take priority. Her spinal cord is intact, but three of the lumbar vertebrae are fractured and we will have to realign them later. Her right femur is broken in six places, left in two and our head of ortho is currently working on that. Both of her tibias and feet are by some miracle intact. All the bones in her shoulders, arms, forearms, wrists, and hands are also free of any injuries. She didn't sustain any burns or lacerations because of the suit, which will help during her recovery. - with every word the relief disappeared more and more from the men's faces, and Toto's lips became almost invisible.
- Her heart...? - he asked eventually.
- Intact and strong. She's not on any assistance during the surgery, although we're ready for that if the need arises. She's a fighter. - the young doctor added with a gentle smile.
- You've mentioned her recovery... Does that mean...? - he was afraid to finish the question, especially when he saw Alex's face drop just a little.
- I... I shouldn't have said that. I can't promise you any type of outcome, especially with such severe injuries. - her voice softened. - We know what's wrong. We know how to fix it. And we will do our best to do so. Three of the best surgeons in the country are currently working together to keep her alive, so objectively - the chances of success are high. But I can't promise you that everything will be perfect. – Toto nodded, acknowledging the situation.
- Thank you for taking the time to explain everything to us. - he whispered, suddenly feeling weak in the knees. - Would it be too much if I asked for an update after every major stage? Doesn't matter if good or bad... I just need to know... - George was the one to notice how shaky Toto truly was, so he helped him sit down, so the man wouldn't fall over.
- It wouldn't be too much at all. I was planning to do so anyway... But it... - she started, but Wolff cut her off.
- It's gonna be a long surgery, I was told. I will be here. - his voice was stronger than his body, and the young doctor gave him one last smile before she turned around and went back to the operating block.
None of the men knew what to say, so they just sat in silence, trying to process what has happened.
There was a moment when George started quietly sobbing, and without even thinking, Toto put his arm around him and pulled him into a hug, trying to give him the comfort he so desperately needed himself. But the only person who could give it to him was currently lying cut open on the operating table.
- George, you officially got second place with 18 points... - James eventually broke the silence, but none of them were able to say after how long, because time had become something immeasurable. - Congratulations... - he added, but that was the last thing on young driver's mind. Few other drivers in the waiting room took out their phones to check the results, but in the end - there were more important things than that.
- Holly shit. - someone whispered and almost immediately added. - Y/n crashed after the red flag. She got 5th. With the fastest lap. - all heads turned to Carlos, who was sitting on the floor. Even Toto couldn't believe what he just heard. He knew you were good, damn... He believed in you since day one, that's why he was so quick to sign you. And now... Now Y/n Y/l/n was officially the first woman since 1975 who scored points in F1, which was a historical achievement.
- She got 11 points... - James confirmed after checking his email once again. And then there was silence again. There should be a celebration, all of them knew that. And even though someone will contest that, because technically you wouldn't be able to finish the race if it were resumed, and your team would fight tooth and nail for that not to be taken away... But for now, in the official FIA statement, you finished in 5th place.
There were some murmurs and whispers, but none of it mattered to Toto more than you actually living, so when he saw the familiar face of a young doctor again, he almost jumped from his seat.
- Hello again... - she smiled, which he took as a good sign. - The orthopedic surgeon finished working on her legs and we were able to close them. There was no additional damage to the thigh muscles, so we didn't have to take any part of them, which means that she will be able to regain a full range of movements, in time of course. The neurosurgeon just finished reversing the aneurysms, and the new head CT didn't show any additional injuries, so we will be able to slowly close her skull as well. We were also able to remove the other rib from her lung, and the head of cardio is currently working on repairing her right lung, but we don't know for sure if it is viable, which means... - she stopped for a moment, not sure how the man in front of her would react to such news.
- That there is a chance you will have to remove it. But she could live with just one lung, right? - he made sure.
- With some restrictions, but yes.
- Then in the end it doesn't matter. How about her kidney and spine? - he asked, eager to know more.
- The kidney is being worked on as we speak, but the spine... - she stopped for a moment, trying to find the best words to explain the situation to someone unfamiliar with medical jargon. - The best way to get to the lumbar vertebrae would be from the back, which would require a change of position. And since the injuries on the front of her body are so extensive, the new position might be dangerous for her, so there will be benefits to closing her up, letting the body rest and regenerate for a few days, and proceeding with second surgery later in a week.
- Wouldn't leaving it as it is, be dangerous as well? I mean - is there a chance of the fragments moving and injuring her spinal cord?
- That's exactly why we haven't decided on the best course of action just yet. We still have to finish working on her kidney, lung, and ribs, while the neurosurgeon assesses which option would be the safest and does more scans to see if going from the front would be possible. It's unconventional, but it has been successfully done. - she explained and Toto nodded.
- Thank you for explaining that to me... - she just smiled gently and walked away.
It was the first time he looked at the clock, and it was almost midnight, but he didn't feel that at all. Time was weird, because he felt like the crash had happened just a few seconds ago, and at the same time as if centuries passed since he saw your car barreling down the track. And then he heard an unfamiliar voice calling out your name. He instantly turned around in that direction and saw a medical responder in full gear. She repeated your name once again and Toto finally put his hand up.
She quickly came closer and sat in front of him.
- Good evening, sir... I was one of the first responders to the crash, and I was responsible for intubating Y/n. - she started explaining, and Toto was too exhausted to ask what it was about, or even to introduce himself. - But before I did that... She was awake for just a moment. And she asked me to pass the message, the problem is... I don't know to whom. - it was like he caught a second wind because he instantly focused on the woman in front of him.
- What did she say...? - he asked, leaning forward. He knew everyone was listening, but he didn't care.
- She said... "Why didn't I say it back... Please tell him that I love him." - Toto blinked a few times as if the words had trouble reaching him, but when they finally did... He started to laugh like a maniac, and everyone looked at him in worry that he actually snapped or went crazy.
Earlier today, when you were both just waking up with the first rays of sunshine peeking over the horizon, he said those three magic words for the first time... Three words, eight letters... He didn't expect anything in return, because he knew how hard expressing any emotions came to you, but it was important to him to assure you that he, indeed, loved you and wasn't planning to go anywhere. He also knew that you loved him, because you had your own way of showing that to him...
So, to hear that when you were convinced you were dying, the last thought in your mind was telling him something he already knew for a while was... a bit absurd. But then it hit him... You did that because you thought that he didn't know you loved him. And your possible last thought was letting him know that you weren't in it just for fun, that you were serious about your relationship. And that made him freeze.
- Sir...? - the lady in front of him reached to touch him but stopped last second.
- I'm sorry... I know who that message was for... Thank you for passing it on. - he gave her a weak smile, and she just nodded. - And thank you for what you did for her... It means a lot to me. - he added quieter, and just like that, she was gone.
The atmosphere in the waiting room was still extremely tense, but that didn't stop a few of the drivers from dozing off. Someone even ordered pizzas, but Toto didn't move... He didn't eat, didn't drink, didn't say anything... He was a shell of himself while his heart was being cut open, stabbed, prodded, and stitched back up on the operating table just a few meters away.
And while at first people were brushing it off as a team principal caring for his driver, the few closest to him realized that there was more. Finally, Bono had enough and sat right next to him.
- How long...? - he whispered quietly enough that no one else was able to hear.
- I don't know what... - Toto immediately wanted to deny everything and play stupid, but one look from his friend and he folded. - 5 months... - he said, barely any sound leaving his lips.
- And the thing the paramedic said...? - he asked, but only got a nod in reply. - Shiiiiiiit... - this time Toto looked at him confused. - I lost the betting pool.
- What?
- We have... Well, now had... A betting pool because we noticed that you were much happier for quite some time. The most popular option was antidepressants, and I bet on that, not gonna lie. - Toto just blinked a few times, still trying to process what was being said. - There was also a winning streak, therapy, someone you hated dying, that you got laid, but Lewis was the only one that bet on a new relationship. I mean - there were a few more people who bet on the relationship, but Lewis nailed the 5 months. - Toto still couldn't believe what he was hearing, but somehow, the absurdity of the situation helped him relax just a little.
- You make bets... about my private life? - he was genuinely curious if it was the first time.
- Well... Yeah. Because you're all mysterious and shit. It's easy to make up some crazy stories just for fun. - Bono just shrugged. - None of us suspected that you and her... I mean, in public, you were equally close with... - he stopped and pointed with his chin in the direction of the familiar face in blue scrubs.
- We were able to save the lung and a kidney. All ribs are secured in their places. - Toto sighed with relief for the first time since he saw the car tumbling on the tracks. - The head of neuro managed to find a way to repair the vertebrae from the front, but it will be a long procedure. The angle he has to go in from is very unusual and taxing, but we will be able to do everything today. Her vitals are stable, her heart is strong... She's doing well, sir. We still don't know the extent of her brain injury, which will have to wait till she wakes up, but we are optimistic that she will. - she smiled softly and gently squeezed his arm.
- Thank you... - and with that, she was gone again, and Toto looked around the waiting room... It was almost 3 AM, and the surgery started... around 10 hours ago. And yet the whole younger generation of drivers was here, most of them still in gear... Some were on the uncomfortable chairs, some quietly talking, and few even fell asleep on the floor. Even though you were all competitors, and you weren't even a full-seat driver yet, they still respected you and your skills a lot. - Guys, I think you should go back to your hotels and get some sleep... Or just rest... I'll let you know in the morning how the surgery went. - few heads turned in his direction, but no one moved. Lando finally broke the silence.
- With all due respect sir, she wouldn't leave any of us... - Toto couldn't help but feel... pride. Not just for you, but for them. Just 10 years ago this type of situation wouldn't be possible... After the crash, maybe one or two drivers, who were the closest to the injured one, would be in the hospital, but never for this long... And never this many... They were good kids, and it meant that the times were changing.
- I can't disagree with that... - he smiled. - Thank you all. - he added and sat right back. Now, that most of your injuries were under control, he let himself think of anything else, and that turned out to be those boys behind him. He quickly wrote a few messages to the other team principals, letting them know where most of their drivers were and asking them to arrange at least a change of clothes, because the majority of them still had sensors under their gear, and that must have been uncomfortable. He also took time to bring every single one of them a cup of that awfully sweet hot chocolate and spent a few minutes talking with them one on one about whatever they needed to get off their chests. And next to being worried about you, most of them were scared...
It took a while, but he finally came back to his original chair and for the first time - leaned back in it and stretched, but that wasn't near enough for him to release all the tension collected in his body. But now... Now he allowed himself to hope.
The next time he saw Alex, she was with another doctor, and it was already getting bright outside. All of the drivers - now in regular clothing - were sleeping on each other in different combinations, and only George was awake beside himself.
- The operation was a success... - she started, and Toto felt as if someone finally took the weight of the whole world from his shoulders, the relief of it forcing tears out of his eyes. - She's already stitched up, and soon we will move her to a recovery room, where you will be able to see her - for the first few hours, just through the glass and then in person. - you lived. That's all that mattered. - She will be in a medically induced coma for at least a few days to prevent her brain from swelling more. We will continue monitoring her, and based on the results we will decide when will be the best time to wake her up. - the young doctor explained and when she looked over the waiting room, she added. - She... She's stable, but she doesn't look well... - the tone of her voice was enough to convey what she really wanted to say.
- They won't take no for an answer... They will want to see her. - he quietly said. - They look young, well, they are young... It's hard to explain, but they need to see her. They need to see for themselves that she's alive... - Alex looked at the older doctor who gave silent permission. - Thank you for all you did... For saving her...
- I can take you to see her now, but the rest... Groups of 3 the most. - Toto nodded and another sigh of relief escaped his chest. He still couldn't believe what happened. When he saw the crash, he was mentally preparing for the funeral, but now... Now you were alive. Still extremely injured and with months if not years of therapy in front of you, but you were alive. Fuck everything else.
- Can you give me a minute...? I'd like to tell them myself. - he explained and after getting a quiet “sure”, he went first to Bono and James, who were sleeping in the chairs next to each other, and very quickly explained what he just heard. After that, he went around the room and quietly told everyone else. Some of the younger ones immediately started crying from relief, and he couldn't blame them, because he did the exact same, so he just pulled them into a wordless hug until they calmed down. It definitely took more than a minute, and he felt a bit bad for keeping the young doctor awake, but when he took a quick look in her direction, she smiled at him, letting him know that he can take as long as he needs. This was definitely an unusual situation.
But eventually, everyone was up to speed, and the atmosphere in the room relaxed a bit. There were even a few awkward laughs, but Toto wasn't there to hear them. He was walking a couple of steps behind the young doctor who was kind enough to update him over the last fifteen hours, and he tried to mentally prepare himself for what he was about to see. You were alive. That's all that mattered.
It wouldn't be the first time he saw someone after the crash, hell - he was in one himself. Albeit not such a serious one... He was around the track long enough to know that even the nonlethal injuries weren't pretty, he saw what could happen to drivers who either weren't careful, skillful, or lucky enough. But you were definitely careful and skillful enough. But today, well... yesterday. You didn't have enough luck. A mechanical failure. Two of the things that had so many fail-safes, he wasn't sure he could count that high. But somehow all of them failed... He knew there would be an investigation, but that didn't matter. Because you were alive.
So, when he finally saw you through the thick glass... He broke. He had to hold himself on the metal barrier in front of the window just not to fall over, and the young doctor put his arm under his, trying to assist him until he'd be able to stand straight. You looked so small connected to all the heavy machinery in the room. A thick tube down your throat, a bag of full blood connected to the IV port in your arm, all the cables coming from under the bandages on your chest... The draining tubes coming from under the bandages on your thighs... Your face was swollen, with bruises in multiple places, and your head was shaved and covered in bandages. He couldn't help but laugh at that one detail... You wanted to shave your head for ages but never found the right moment with all the press and photoshoots.
And your hands... Somehow, they didn't fit the picture... They were pristine, not counting the IVs... No bruises, no bandages, no anything... Your long fingers looked exactly the same as they did this morning when you intertwined them with his, just as he was about to tell you he loves you.
- I'm sorry, it's just... - he started, but he couldn't finish, so he just rested his forehead on the cold glass in front of him, trying so hard not to let tears into his eyes.
- It can be a lot, seeing a loved one like this... I understand...
- She's alive... - he failed. He tried to convince himself that it was enough, but seeing you like that... So small, so... weak. It hit him. He wouldn't be able to live without seeing you wildly dance on the roof of one of the many hotels you stayed in during the racing season... Without hearing your broken singing from under the shower in the morning... Without your contagious laughter at something stupid, he said... He needed you more than he needed to breathe, and it scared him.
He wiped the tears with the back of his hand, straighten his posture, and did his best to compose himself. Not for himself, but for the people who were about to see you like that. You lived... and for now that had to be enough.
He didn't leave your room since he was allowed to enter it for the first time... Sitting at your bed, holding your hand, putting on the music he knew you'd like, reading aloud... And with every passing day, you started looking... stronger. The color started returning to your skin, and the bruising and swelling on your face slowly started healing. The drivers kept visiting you, and when they had to leave to prepare for the next race - they kept sending you gifts.
Lewis stayed the longest after he finally got well enough to leave his room... He spent the entire day at your side, holding your hand, apologizing profusely, and praying... And after he didn't have any more tears left in him, he started telling you stories he knew you'd love. He was also the one to bring that perfume you bought in Egypt and which you absolutely adored; he put a drop of it behind your ears and on your wrists and left the bottle on the nightstand.
George was the one to take it the hardest... Even though he tried his best not to show it when he was visiting, Toto knew. He knew how close the two of you were, and all the crazy adventures you shared. You were like siblings on crack and the things you could get into when let out of the bullpen... He honestly couldn't believe that you haven't been arrested yet for some of the stuff you pulled... That's why the last time he visited before leaving the UK, Toto suggested talking to a therapist and George agreed.
It took more than the few days Alex mentioned after the surgery, but the decision to wake you up was finally made a bit over two weeks after the crash. And he felt like a babe in the woods the whole morning; happy that the medication will be out of your system, but afraid of what would happen if you didn't wake up.
Alex was the one who sat with the both of you in the room, watching your vitals like a hawk, and as soon as she saw any change, she explained to Toto what exactly it meant. Around noon, she made the decision to stop intubating you, because it looked like your brain took over that function. She of course was ready with a new tube, just in case, but it ended up not being necessary; even though one of your lungs wasn't fully healed, enough oxygen was getting to your brain.
Around noon he started to get antsy, but Alex quickly calmed him down and explained again that it might take even a few days because there is no way to tell how your brain would react. It didn't help much, but having someone to answer his every question was a godsend because he wasn't able to think about worst-case scenarios when there was a professional who said otherwise.
He wasn't able to eat, but he didn't care... He didn't want to miss the moment when you woke up. But the day ended and nothing changed. In the evening one of the other residents took over for Alex, but Toto still didn't move and didn't let go of your hand. Not even when he rested his head on the bed next to your legs for just a moment. But the moment became a bit longer when he closed his eyes...
A familiar sensation woke him up... Long, cold fingers running through his hair, and he couldn't help but smile, at first - not realizing what it meant. But then it hit him. His eyes shot open, and he immediately sat up.
Your beautiful eyes were open and full of tears, while your hand found his, and squeezed it tightly.
- You're awake... - he whispered the obvious... - She's awake! Get a doctor here! - he shouted when he realized you two were alone in the room.
You tried to say something, but the words stuck in your throat due to pain.
- Shhh... Don't say anything just yet... You were intubated and the doctors said it might take some time for it to heal... - he said, without even noticing he started crying, but you decided to ignore him; your determination was much stronger than a little bit of pain. Well, ok... More than a little bit.
- I... - you started, but the rest of the sentence didn't want to come out...
- I love you... And I know you love me too... I have known it for a while now. You never had to say it... I knew... - he said, brought your hand to his lips, and started pressing soft kisses to the back of it. You extended your finger to wipe one of the tears from his cheek, and his other hand quickly followed, wiping the rest. You looked around the room and noticed all the flowers, the teddy bears, the toys... There was even a... Tamagotchi...? And a brand-new Nintendo Switch...?
You looked back at Toto with a question painted on your face.
- The other drivers brought most of this stuff... They still keep sending things even though... - you nudged your head forward, urging him to continue. - Even though they had to leave for the next race. The accident was over two weeks ago, I'll explain everything later, I promise... But now the doctors will have to run some tests, ok...? - you nodded in response and shifted your gaze to the doctors that came into the room just a moment ago. They started simple, asking you to follow the light with your eyes and look in certain directions. And you did whatever they asked, not letting go of Toto's hand.
You were scared and in pain... But somehow you knew everything will be all right, because despite everything - you weren't alone. And that was certain.
A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :)
Love,
G.
Warnings: cheating, angst, mention of infertility, mention of blood and hospital (really short), alcohol use.
Lewis is a real asshole in this chapter, I think that could go as a warning too.
Words: 2.750
“If it's what you truly want ... I can wear her skin over mine. Her hair over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph, all three of us. Immortalized ... you and your perfect girl. I don't know when love became elusive. I think of lovers as trees ... growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light.
Why can't you see me? Everyone else can.”
I step slowly into the apartment, my head spinning with the anger I feel and all the alcohol from earlier. The place seems different from what I had left before, the white walls filled with memories in the form of our photos no longer bring me the comfort and happiness they used to.
I can hear Lewis' footsteps in the hallway outside. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the imminent confrontation I can no longer postpone.
Lewis slams the door behind him with enough force for the sound to reverberate throughout the apartment.
"Stop with this silent treatment bullshit. You ignored me all night. Isn't that enough?!” His voice is louder than usual.
I place my bag on the wooden dining table and turn towards Lewis, who is standing in the middle of the room with his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on me.
"I told you this conversation would happen at home.” I feel the anger burning in my throat. I seem calm, but I grit my teeth over so many emotions stuck inside me.
"Here we are." He gestures to the entire living room. "Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on? First, you've been acting weird all week. Then at dinner, you didn't say anything except to make senseless comments. You drank two bottles of champagne alone, even though you know you can't drink. Do you want to throw away all the treatment we're doing?”
Suddenly, I can't contain my emotions any longer. I explode with words that should never leave my mouth. My laughter is a humorless, painful groan. How can he bring this up now? How dare he act like nothing is happening? After cheating on me, he still has the audacity to want to build something big together?
"Fuck this treatment, Lewis! I have no interest in conceiving a child with you anymore!" I scream at him for the first time in my life, and say the worst things I could.
You know that feeling when you regret saying something even before the last word leaves your mouth? That just happened. The pain in Lewis' face becomes clear before my eyes, but it's not greater than mine. I could never imagine saying those words to him. To the love of my life.
Lewis stays quiet, motionless, as if he's glued to the floor. Like him, I try to process the words I just uttered. I don't know where they come from, or if I really feel that way. But I don't move to take them back or try to retract what I said. I think this is the moment I'll remember as the breaking point. There's no turning back after saying something like that.
But life is made of choices, and I choose to move forward with my anger.
I walk to my bag, and for a brief moment, the sound of my heels hitting the floor is the only thing that can be heard in the room.
I take out the bracelet that I've kept with me all this time, and walk up to him with the object clenched tightly in my fist.
I walk close enough to hear his breath. His eyes shine with sadness. I can't recognize us at this moment. Everything seems so wrong, so confusing. We know each other so well, but now I feel like I'm looking at a stranger.
I feel a lump in my throat, and for a moment, I'm afraid that I'll break down.
"I stopped taking the hormones five days ago, Lewis. You would know that if you paid any attention to me.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine, and I can identify an appeal in them. "I stopped when I found this in your car.”
I hold out the bracelet with my index finger near his face. I watch realization taking over his expression while his gaze moves between my face and the object in my hands. He seems to want to say something, but I don't want to hear a word from him until I finish saying everything I need to.
"The problem was there for a long time, wasn't it? It was my love for us that blinded me and didn't let me see what was right in front of me. Until this shit showed up" I throw the bracelet at his chest. Despite the almost zero distance between us, I know that Lewis barely feels the metal contact his skin. He remains motionless. The bracelet falls between us, resting on the cold floor as we continue to stare at each other. "I tried to deceive myself. Even today, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and let you make up for everything you destroyed in me."
I feel my eyes welling up, but there's more anger than sadness in the tears.
"Y/n..." Lewis' voice comes out in a tone that I don't remember ever hearing before.
I cut him off before he can say another word.
“But then I arrive there, at the dinner you invited me to.” I extend my index finger until it touches his chest, and just this minimum contact makes me tremble. “And I watch you looking at her in the same way you used to look at me. And the worst of all is that you were acting as if nothing was happening. You wore this lie so well that if she hadn't done what she did to show me the truth, I would have left that restaurant even more in love with you. While you were lying to the woman you swore loyalty to on an altar."
His fingers wrap carefully around my wrists. I try to pull away the moment I feel the contact, but Lewis doesn't let go and keeps holding me in my place.
"Y/n. Please listen to me.”
I don't want to listen to him, but I know I need his explanation.
"Go ahead. But tell me the truth if you still want the slightest consideration from me.”
It takes him a few seconds to start talking.
"It's true. But it didn't mean anything, not for a moment. It was the biggest mistake of my life, Y/n. And I know that doesn't change anything about what I did. But I'm so sorry." He puts word upon word as if his desperation could change something. "I'm sorry. I was selfish and in a bad place, and she came along and seemed so simple. I didn't think about you or us. But I swear there's nothing left. I realized what was at stake and ended everything.”
It's not a “this never happens” or “you misunderstand” the only thing I get is an apology.
Even though it was already clear, hearing it from him manages to hurt even more. His dark and guilty eyes look at me with such supplication that even staring back at him becomes a difficult task.
"When did this start?”
Lewis lowers his gaze as soon as I finish my question, perhaps out of shame or fear of my reaction to the answer.
"September.”
I break free from his grip as soon as it sinks in.
"You were fucking her while I was going through that hell?!”
I watch tears streaming down his face, but I feel no sympathy. What I want now is for him to suffer even more for the consequences of what he caused himself.
“It was a hard time for me too.”
"No." It's unbelievable that he's playing that card now. "You're not going to do this to me. Not after everything I went through.”
"But it's the truth. We were both living in hell." He says barely a second after I finish speaking.
"And your way of dealing with that was by cheating on me?!” My voice comes out in a scream for the second time tonight.
The adrenaline inside me is so intense that I can't stand still. I take a few steps back from his figure.
"Y/n, you've changed since the diagnosis." The forced laugh that comes out of me is the only thing I can express. "You think I was the one who distanced myself when, in fact, you had already been distant for a long time. You looked at me as if I were to blame for..." He trails off, regret etched on his face the moment he falls silent.
It's like a knife has been plunged into my chest. Even before he finishes, I already knew where this was going.
"Finish it. Tell me, Lewis. Tell me that I looked at you as if you were to blame for my infertility."
"That's not what I meant."
"Yes, it is. It's written all over your face."
"No. I meant because of the situation we were in."
I shake my head as I stare at Lewis incredulously.
"How callous and self-centered does a person have to be to make this kind of deduction?" My voice is low, and the words spill out without much forethought. "I bled for hours, only to receive the most devastating news of my life shortly after. I left that hospital and rebuilt myself piece by piece to try to move on. And during that process, you believed yourself to be too important to not receive the attention you craved and went after that whore to stroke your ego."
Lewis tries to approach me, but I move away as soon as I realize his intention.
"Get away from me!"
"Y/n, please. I would never do that. That's not what I meant. I just want you to understand.”
"There's nothing to understand! What you did has no explanation.”
I turn my back to his figure as I feel tears streaming down my face. I wipe my face with my hands, trying not to let him see me cry. The tears are not just about what he did, it's about everything we went through together. It's about me thinking I had someone on my side who understood me and would never do this to me. But now life feels more raw than ever, and I feel alone. The pain is intense and the feeling is that it will never go away. I feel vulnerable, exposed, and very angry.
I'm not sure I can stand, so I walk over to the couch and sit on the edge of the white cushion. I feel the comfort of the upholstery in contrast to the tension in my body. As I try to calm down, Lewis comes to me and kneels on the floor, putting himself at the same height as me.
Lewis takes some time before speaking again.
"Listen. I love you so much. And I know what I did may be unforgivable. But Y/n, we have been through so much together. I really want to fix this. I don't want to give up on us.”
I don't look at him.
"But you've already done it.”
"No. I made a mistake. The biggest one, but I will never give up on us. I'll do whatever it takes, please.”
My eyes flicker towards him, but I can't bear to hold his gaze for more than a fleeting moment. It's as if looking at him for any longer would be a betrayal to the pain and anger that I feel.
"If only you had been honest. But you lied. That's even worse. You acted like everything was fine when you had just admitted that everything was wrong even before you got involved with her." Lewis wraps his fingers around my ankle as if hoping to change my thoughts with just that touch. "You promised me that whenever something went wrong, we would talk about it. And when it did happen, you just ran away from me. How do you expect me to forgive you for that?"
"Please," he begs me for something that not even he knows.
"I'm going to pack my things."
"No. Y/n, don't do that."
I stand up but can't take more than one step. Lewis comes to me and rests his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place. I feel exhausted. I think I have no more strength to keep going with this. I've reached my limit tonight, and so has he.
"Stay. This house is yours. I'll sleep in the guest room, but please don't leave. We can talk tomorrow when we're both calmer. Let's give ourselves tonight to think.”
"I've spent the last month thinking. I have nothing else to think about. I don't want to talk to you anymore, Lewis. I don't want this anymore.”
"Y/n, please. It's three in the morning. You have nowhere to go now. Stay here. You don't have to talk to me, but I don't want you driving like this in a nervous state."
His concern seems like a joke, it might have moved me if we weren't in this ridiculous situation.
"If I stay, you're the one who leaves.”
“Y/n...”
“Get your stuff.”
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“I don´t know. I don´t care. Go to her place. Take the opportunity to let her know that you're single now.” I go to the cellar and take the first bottle of wine I find there. “Just be careful with Matteo, he might kill you if he finds out you're fucking his little bride.”
Lewis stares at me for a few seconds before heading towards the bedroom. He knows I can't handle another minute of conversation tonight. Now the only thing I want is distance from him.
I open the wine bottle and pour a glass with a surprising calmness. Perhaps my level of stress and shock is so high that I no longer know how to deal with it.
With the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, I walk to my office and close the door behind me. I don't want to see him leave, trying to convince myself that it's because I don't want to look at him anymore, but in truth I'm afraid of not letting him pass through the door.
I take every sip of my drink as a desperate attempt to calm my emotions. I am sitting in the armchair in the middle of the dark room, and I can hear every step Lewis takes just a few meters away from me. Sometimes, I can even tell which room he is in.
But then, after a short while, I hear the final thud - the sound of our apartment door closing. And suddenly, silence fills the room, bringing with it an intense cold.
I want to allow myself to cry in this moment, but I can't. Exhaustion takes hold of my body and mind, but I know I won't be able to rest until I know what will happen with us.
Author's notes: CALM DOWN, DON'T FREAK OUT. I'll post chapter 4 soon. I promise it won't take as long as this one did.
Let me tell you, it was a struggle to write this one. I spent hours just to write a few words. It was definitely the hardest one yet.
I kinda feel bad for making Lewis such a asshole. He's like my baby, you know? But hey, we still have a few more chapters left, so who knows what could happen? (Not even I know, haha.)
Anyway, thanks for sticking around and i see you in the next one!
“I whipped my own back and asked for dominion at your feet. I threw myself into a volcano. I drank the blood and drank the wine. I sat alone and begged and bent at the waist for God. I crossed myself and thought I saw the devil. I grew thickened skin on my feet, I bathed in bleach, and plugged my menses with pages from the holy book, but still inside me, coiled deep, was the need to know ...
Are you cheating on me?”
I didn't know it would be possible, but the fabric of the tight Balmain dress manages to make me feel even more suffocated.
I focus on the feeling of the brush passing over my lips and try to leave this bad feeling behind, but nothing can make this doubt go away.
I put down the lipstick container with the red liquid that now stains my lips and go to my purse, which rests on the top of my dresser. I take the object that has caused all my anguish over the last few days.
A quick search was enough to discover that the bracelet is part of an ensemble of four bracelets, with only a few copies made.
I stare at the red pendant resting in my hand, letting all the emotions of the past few days wash over me. I try with all my being to convince myself that it's not what it seems to be. It could belong to Angela, even though it's not her typical style. Or it could have been left behind by a coworker he gave a ride to, even though he rarely uses his private car for work-related purposes.
But deep down I know this doesn't make sense. Deep down I know that this was put in the glove compartment intentionally. I try to deceive myself, but what seems to be reality is the only thing that makes sense to me.
The heart pendant bracelet is concrete proof of my intuition that never fails.
But God, how I wish to be wrong right now.
But I need to give him the benefit of the doubt. I need to give him a chance to prove to me this isn't true. For us and for all the time we spent together. For my fairytale marriage.
I hear his footsteps behind me and quickly put the bracelet back in the clutch. Lewis doesn't know about my discovery, and I prefer not to say anything, at least until I know something for sure.
I can see his approaching figure through the mirror.
-Is everything okay? -He walks to his drawer and takes out a Rolex. His gaze doesn't stray from me even as he slips the watch onto his wrist.
I used to help him with that.
-Yes. Everything it's fine.
-Are you ready? I don't want to be late.
I pick up the lipstick and carefully place it in my purse.
-I'm ready. We can go.
I walk to the exit, but I'm stopped by Lewis, who puts himself in front of me, preventing me from following my way.
-Are you sure everything is okay? -He doesn't touch me, but he's so close that I almost crave his hands on me. -You've been acting weird these last few days.
I stare into his eyes as if searching for something more than what I can see with the naked eye. Those eyes that once always took on a blinding glare when looking at me, are now almost opaque, and they rarely look at me for more than a few seconds.
-I’m fine. It's just work that is taking more of me than usual, that's all. -He continues to look at me like he doesn't believe in any word that I just said. And I know he didn't. Lewis knows me better than anyone else. -We need to go. We don't want to be late.
Only then does he let me pass thru him, and he walks to follow me out of the apartment. He doesn't contest me even after realizing my lie.
-
I've been looking at the menu for a lot longer than it would be necessary. All the alternatives look bad. My stomach is in knots right now, and there's nothing that sounds appetizing.
We've just sat down in our chairs, and everyone is seated except for two empty seats at our table.
There's a conversation going on, and everyone is actively participating except for me. I make occasional comments to appear attentive, but I couldn't care less about what's being debated.
I don't know why I said yes to this, especially in this brutal moment I'm living through. I don't know why I decided to put on a dress, apply makeup, and follow my husband to a dinner full of fake smiles that always turn into a competition to see who has more money. I think that's who I am at my core, always stepping out of my comfort zone to make him happy, even when it ends up costing me my well-being.
Susan's voice echoes in my head, telling me that I may have created unreal situations in my mind. Maybe it's true, maybe I've always felt that way in these places, but I refused to believe it. Instead, I put a smile on my face and played along with the game of those people.
I feel Lewis freeze beside me. I could swear he cut his sentence in half. I lower the menu from my face and look at him, who in turn has his gaze directed towards the front of us. I follow his vision and find two people approaching our table, who I assume are for the empty seats.
Matteo Rossi, I recognize his figure as soon as my eyes meet him. I've seen him a few times at dinners like this, Italian billionaire, one of Petronas major investors. Along with him, there is a woman, more like a girl, a beautiful girl, even though the vulgar outfit doesn't seem to have been the right choice for the night. She can't be older than 22, which is bizarre, considering I was at Matteo's 56th birthday party just a few months ago.
Lewis stands up quickly, which surprises me. Matteo's presence is nothing new to him, and although he's a giant investor, this has never affected Lewis in any way.
I get up right after him. We walk to the late couple. I extend my hand to Matteo, but he immediately pulls me into a hug, which makes me more than uncomfortable. His hands go down my back until they reach the limit. It doesn't take me a second to pull myself away from him. I hate how people like him think they can do whatever they want.
I take a few steps toward the girl next to Matteo. She seems comfortable in this place as if this is her natural habitat. I get a little jealous of her confidence.
-Nice to meet you. - I extend my hand to the girl who accepts it immediately.
-The pleasure is mine to finally meet you, Mrs. Hamilton.
The clatter of shaking hands coming from her fist catches my attention. I look away from her face to her hand.
And there it is, the three missing bracelets. I could recognize these pieces even from miles away. The set I stared at for hours on the jewelry store's website, but missing one piece, the one that's in my bag.
It's like the universe is giving me a big slap in the face, showing me clearly what's going on, not letting me settle into the bittersweet feeling of denial anymore.
I don't know what I feel. I don't think I feel anything at all.
The girl I've been picturing this whole time is right here, in front of me, holding my hand and acting like she's not doing the grossest thing a person can do.
I don't know how long I spend looking at her wrist, but eventually, I cut my stare from the bracelets and look at her face. She has a cynical smile on her lips. She knows that I know. She knew her plan would work and that I would find out.
I don't know who pulls away first. I'm still too far out of orbit to have any cognition of my body. The girl passes me and walks to her place. I turn around and everyone is already seated, so with some supernatural strength, I force myself to go back to my seat and sit on my chair.
I feel dirty, betrayed, guilty. The lack of sensations from seconds before is compensated by the wave that invades me now. I feel my eyes burn, but there's no way for me to start crying right now.
-Madam? -I look at the figure of the waiter behind me and only then realize that he is waiting for my order. Some people at the table stare at me curiously. I don't know how long I left the waiter waiting.
-You can bring the first option. -I don't know how I'm able to formulate a coherent sentence at this moment.
-For the starter? And what about the rest of the dishes?
-The first option of everything is fine.
I hand him the menu, and fortunately, he moves away to take another order. I can't think about food right now, so whatever they bring me doesn't make any difference.
Another waiter arrives soon after with a tray full of champagne glasses. I don't hesitate to grab one. I curl my fingers tightly around the crystal so my tremors go unnoticed by my companions.
-Honey. What are you doing? You can't drink. - Lewis whispers to me.
Suddenly, his voice doesn't have the same effect on me as it did a few hours ago. It suffocates me and makes me want to run away and cry for hours.
I stare at Lewis as I drink all the liquid in the glass in one sip. That's my answer to him.
-What's wrong? -I can identify anger in his expression. It's not a good time for his perfect wife to have an attitude for a change.
-Nothing, Love. Enjoy your dinner. -I say as I grab another glass and drink half the liquid in one gulp.
I feel Lewis's hand land on my thigh, squeezing it lightly. He continues to stare at me, but I have already looked away. Now I look at her, who laughs at any crap said by someone at the table.
-Lewis! - I feel his gaze leaving me and going to Matteo, even I snapped out of my reverie to pay attention to the man. - It's good to see you, man. It's been a while since the last time.
-Definitely. It's good to see you too, my friend.
Oh, if only he knew, Lewis.
And if only you knew what I could do with what I've just discovered.
-I finally got to introduce you to my fiancée, Jordyn.
I laugh after listening to Matteo, drawing everyone's attention. The crystal goblet in my hands surprisingly withstands the pressure I put on my fingers. I feel an unprecedented rush, tingling throughout my body.
-But you already know each other, no?! - I divide my gaze between Lewis and Jordyn, who are looking at me with wide eyes.
-No, we've never actually met before. -Lewis's hand, which still rests on my leg, squeezes me harder. His touch burns. I look at him, and my fake smile falls. The ease with which a lie like that slips from his lips makes me even dizzier. It's scary how easy it was for him.
I get up from the seat quickly, dragging my chair with me, once again drawing all the attention to myself.
-Excuse me.
I walk quickly towards the bathroom, but before I reach the door, Lewis abruptly pulls my arm. The contact is not delicate at all. He corners me in a blind spot away from the other people in the room.
-What's happening?
I look at Lewis for a few seconds before saying anything.
-I'm trying to go to the bathroom. -I know there's sarcasm in my voice.
-No, Y/n. I want to know what's going on for you to act that way at an event like this.
I laugh without humor.
-You don't know?
The confusion on his face becomes even more evident. I free myself from his grip and step away from him.
-Go back to the table, Lewis. And enjoy this evening with your investors. I'll be back in a few minutes wearing the perfect wifey carcass you want. And we'll talk when we get home.
I turn around and walk back to the bathroom without giving Lewis time to answer. I know he will do what I've said. There's nothing in the world he values more than maintaining the damn appearance.
I stare at my reflection in the mirror after retouch the blood-red lipstick on my lips. The silent bathroom contrasts with the noise in my mind.
I hear the bathroom door open, and I know who it is before I even look. In the mirror, I see her reflection heading toward the toilet stall, so I take a deep breath, preparing myself.
She doesn't take long to leave. I remain in the same position. Jordyn doesn't look at me for a second. It's like I'm not here, standing beside her.
I watch her slowly walk to the sink and turn on the running water.
Even if I had prepared a complete speech, I wouldn't remember it now.
-My husband, you know him. -I state, my intonation conveying a deeper meaning.
If she's going to lie, I just want to know if her ease is the same as Lewis's.
Jordyn walks over to the rolled-up towels arranged in the sink and dries her hands while giving me a suggestive look.
-I do. -Jordyn said firmly. Her tone also made it clear what her answer meant. There was no doubt anymore.
She finishes what she came to do but remains standing there looking at me, waiting for some reaction.
I could kill her right now with my own hands. With that tacky style and that ridiculously bold stare. Thinking even for a moment that she's better than me.
-How long?
-Does it matter?
I walk over to her and get close enough to smell her perfume. It's the same as I felt in Lewis' car a few weeks ago.
Jordyn has replaced her cynical look with one that I can't quite decipher.
-If Matteo dreams about that, you're done. - My voice comes out in a whisper, but it's still firm.
-He's not going to. He has no reason to suspect. And we both know you won't tell him anything -Her gaze doesn't leave mine even though our bodies are so close to each other. -He would ruin me, it's true, but you and Lewis would go down too. And you don't want that.
I'm torn between two possibilities right now. I could end her right here. Considering I'm bigger than she is, this job wouldn't take long and would only cost me a broken nail or two. Or, I could pull myself together and prepare to go back to the table and spend the night smirking at the bunch of assholes sitting at Table 41. But I know I can't go with the first option, it would be good in the first few seconds, but regret would come right after. A scandalous woman like that among so many influential people wouldn't work. I need to keep the only things I have left, my career and my class.
-Get out.
The girl answers the request immediately and leaves the bathroom.
I release the breath I've been holding and lean against the cold marble of the sink, staring again at the mess of my reflection. My throat burns, and I breathe heavily.
Don't cry. You will not cry now. You are not going to let him do this to you.
I spend a good amount of time in the bathroom thinking about all the possibilities and trying to calm down from something that seems impossible to overcome. But eventually, I go back to the table and do what I told him I would do. I keep my word, even if it's costing me every ounce of strength I have.
Nothing wounds me deeper than the sight of his smiling face gazing upon her figure seated before us both.
I go over the last seven years in my mind while trying to ingest the minimal amount of food on my plate.
I remember the day we met, and how I was enchanted by his presence even before I knew his name. I remember how much he insisted on taking me on a date, even though he knew I had no interest in a new relationship. I remember how all my judgment fell by the wayside the moment Lewis first laid his hands on me, and how I fell in love with him in such a short time.
I remember all that euphoria that lasted for so long. The marriage proposal during the trip to the place we had dreamed of visiting. I remember being introduced to his friends and family, and the proud smile on his face as he announced me as his girlfriend.
All these memories, which were once my favorite, now have a cloudy haze over them - a cloud of doubt and fear. I fear that it wasn't as real for him as it was for me, that everything was in vain, and that I spent so much time of my life beside someone who didn't think twice before throwing away everything we built together.
He knows that this is the only thing in the world that would make me give up on us.
And yet he did it anyway.
Author's note: The purpose of this chapter was to delve into Y/n's emotions and convey her perceptions and fears. The next chapter will be dialogue-heavy to make up for the lack of it in this one. I plan to post it soon, as I already have part of it written.
Thank you very much for following me this far and for the comments I've received. I'm very happy to be able to publish my stories.❤️❤️
