childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
a/n: Hello my lovelies!!! This is my new story! I hope you like it because this is something different and I'm so excited to share it with you!
If you want to be tagged message me!
Two.
A number everyone is familiar with. Two eyes, two ears, two arms, two hands, two legs… Two bottles of shampoo are more economical than one, the sandwiches of a vending machine come cut in half to make it look more appealing, the automatic cars have two pedals.
Everyone sees the number two and doesn't get bothered because of it.
But when you are someone that only wants the number one, that dream with the number one, is easy to be triggered. I never wanted to end second, never wanted to be second, neither to be in the second.
And then, that number stares back at you after achieving your dream.
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers (👀)
Warnings: fluuuuuff, birth, happiness. Third person pov.
a/n: LAST CHAPTER! WOW! I really can't believe this is the end (unofficially, because there's an epilogue and then if you want I can write extra things). I loved every minute I created this story, and I hope all of you loved reading about them❤️
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Monaco is always sunny. And in the first weeks of June, the warmth of the sun bathes the streets from morning to evening.
Charles finally ended the triple header, with the last race in his hometown where his family and girlfriend were.
When his girlfriend told him that she wanted to be in Monaco to deliver their baby surrounded by their family and friends, he had a mixture of feelings going around his mind. He was happy that she decided to be in Monaco, so their son Dorian would be born where he was born. But at the same time he felt anxious, not knowing if he would miss the birth of his first son or even not knowing how Dafne was dealing with the last weeks of pregnancy.
The moment he had the last brief meeting with his team after the Monaco Grand Prix, he asked his boss to give him time to be with his family, asking to stay out of the races for what was left of the first half of the season. And just with the nod of his head and a small smile, he knew that his boss was already thinking about it even before he asked about it.
Charles pushed open the door to his Monaco apartment, the familiar sound of the soft click as it closed behind him was barely loud. His body ached because of the time spent in the car during the week, with the adrenaline still running through his veins. The roar of the crowd and the car speeding through the city streets echoed in his mind. Now, standing in the quiet hallway, it all seemed a world away.
He slipped off his shoes, exhaustion starting to creep in. The apartment didn’t have any light turned on, the evening sun casting golden light across the floor. He walked towards the living room and looked around, smiling when he saw the blue yoga ball in the balcony, and his mind created images of how she would have watched the race while doing those exercises the doctor told her, moving in circles on top of that ball.
“Dafne?” he called her, leaving his backpack on the table.
He walked further into the apartment, and that’s when he saw her, in the kitchen with her back to him, humming softly to herself. She was dressed comfortably, her hair loosely tied back, a hand occasionally resting on her swollen belly as she mixed the contents of a pot.
He leaned against the doorway for a moment, simply watching her. There was something peaceful about the scene, with the soft hum of the kitchen, and Dafne standing there, so full of life and beauty. For a second, he wondered how he got so lucky.
“You’re going to burn holes into my back if you keep staring like that” Dafne’s voice broke the silence, teasing but warm. She didn’t even turn around, but Charles could see the smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You came earlier than I thought”
“Can you blame me?” he chuckled, pushing off the doorway and walking up behind her. He slipped his arms around her waist carefully, his hands resting on her belly as he leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Look at what I’m coming home to”
Dafne turned in his arms, her hands resting on his chest as she looked up at him. Her eyes softened at the sight of him. He looked tired, his hair a mess from the helmet and sweat, but there was a tenderness in his gaze that always made her heart flutter.
“You did an amazing race today, my winner” she smiled softly. “When will they give you the trophy?”
“Maybe in a few days” he sighed, kissing her forehead. “Now I have time for you, let’s stop talking about racing. I missed you”
“I missed you too” she smiled, closing her eyes when she felt his lips on her skin. “Even if you stayed here with me during this week we barely had time for ourselves”
“Now we will have all the time in the world, then” he smiled. “I won’t race for the rest of the first half of the season”
“I’m glad” she nodded.
Charles smiled looking at her, pressing a kiss on her lips. His hands lingered on her belly as they kissed, feeling the slight movements of their baby beneath his fingers. When they pulled apart, Charles let out a soft chuckle, glancing down at her stomach.
“How’s our little one? He’s been treating you well?” he asked.
“He’s been restless. Kicking like crazy today, especially when I started cooking. I think he’s hungry” Dafne smiled, brushing a hand through Charles' messy hair.
“Well, let’s not keep him waiting” Charles laughed.
“What about you?” she asked, pulling back to look at him more closely. “You look exhausted. Go shower, and dinner will be ready when you’re done”
“You’re the best, you know that?” he chuckled, kissing her once more.
“Of course I am” she smirked, laughing softly.
He laughed and shook his head playfully, walking through the corridors of the apartment and going to his bedroom, grabbing fresh clothes to be comfortable and then slipping to the bathroom, taking a fast shower, not wanting to make Dafne wait too much.
A few minutes later, Charles returned, freshly showered, his hair damp and skin glowing from the warmth of the water. He looked more relaxed now, his usual grin playing on his lips as he walked back into the kitchen. Dafne was just finishing plating the food, moving a little slower than usual, but determined to carry on as normal despite her growing belly.
“Sit down, silly” Charles said, taking the plates from her hands and guiding her to the dining table. “You’ve done enough today.”
Dafne chuckled but didn’t argue, lowering herself carefully into the chair. Charles set the plates down, pouring two glasses of water before sitting across from her. For a moment, they both just sat there, a quiet sense of calm filling the space between them.
“Thank you for this” Charles said, taking a bite of the pasta. “It’s exactly what I needed.”
“I thought you might appreciate a home cooked meal” Dafne smiled, taking a bite herself.
He laughed softly and started eating, moaning softly with a wide smile while he ate what Dafne cooked. They started talking about the race, about the previous ones and how the team was working. And after that, they couldn’t help it and started talking about what is coming next.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his fingers tracing small circles on her hand. “We’re so close now”
“I’m tired, I won’t lie. My back hurts, my feet are swollen, and I can barely sleep. But…” she smiled, glancing down at her belly. “Every time I feel him move, it’s like all of that doesn’t matter. We’re so close to meeting him. I can’t wait”
“I can’t wait either” he whispered. His voice was soft, full of emotion. “I still can’t believe it sometimes. That we’re going to be parents. That we are together. I can’t imagine how the six years old Charles is feeling now”
“I think reality will hit when you’re changing his diapers at 3 a.m.” Dafne laughed.
“Bring it on. I’m ready for all of it” he laughed, so carefree.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the weight of the moment settling over them. Outside, the soft sounds of Monaco drifted in through the open window of the kitchen: the distant hum of the sea, the occasional car passing by, the quiet murmur of life carrying on below them.
“I’m glad we’re here. It feels like the right place for him to be born. Our family’s here, and…” she smiled, looking at Charles with a softness in her eyes. “And you’re here.”
“I wouldn’t miss this for anything” he said, squeezing her hand softly. “You know, these next few weeks are going to be the best part. Just us, waiting for him. I’ll be here, every step of the way.”
“I know. And I wouldn’t want it any other way” she sighed, smiling wider.
“We’ve got this” he nodded.
“Yeah, we’ve got this” she repeated softly.
dafnemorelli
liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 629.517 others
dafnemorelli Last weeks! Can't wait to meet you❤️
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charles_leclerc ❤️
scuderiaferrari Can't wait to see baby Dorian
charles_leclerc
liked by dafnemorelli, pierregasly and 719.317 others
charles_leclerc Last weeks until we meet our son. Can't wait to have him with us🥹❤️
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sharlesperceval Remember when we used to watch how those to argue? And when they had to do the challenges and sponsors meetings and they were all the time throwing beef?
dafneismymom And now they are having a son and they are so in love 🥹
The sun was just beginning to dip toward the horizon, casting a warm golden light over the backyard of Dafne’s parents’ house. Balloons in soft shades of blue, cream, and white floated around the space, with more things with the same shades of blue.
Laughter and conversation filled the air as friends and family gathered around, celebrating the soon-to-arrive baby. Long tables were covered with food and drinks, with a special cake shaped like a race car sitting at the center, a playful nod to Charles' career.
Charles was near the table, laughing with his brothers and some of his friends, while Dafne was seated on a cozy outdoor sofa, her hands resting on her swollen belly talking with her sisters and friends while she opened the gifts all of the guests came with: adorable baby clothes, plush toys, and tiny shoes.
“You’re going to spoil him before he’s even born” Dafne laughed as she thanked Arhtur.
“We’re just getting started” he joked, winking at her playfully.
The afternoon was a mix of joy and excitement, with everyone catching up, sharing stories, and playing baby shower games. The most popular one seemed to be “Guess the Baby’s Birth Date,” with people writing down their predictions on a chalkboard set up near the gift table.
At one point, Dafne glanced across the terrace and spotted her best friend Oscar and his girlfriend Lily, standing by the edge, chatting and laughing with a group of mutual friends. Oscar, as always, looked effortlessly relaxed, his arm slung around Lily’s shoulders.
Dafne smiled to herself, feeling a wave of warmth wash over her. She knew what she had to do. This was the moment she had been waiting for.
“Charles” Dafne murmured. “I’m going to go talk to Oscar and Lily for a minute.”
“Are you going to ask them now?” he smiled excitedly.
She nodded, her heart racing with excitement and a touch of nerves.
Dafne made her way over to Oscar and Lily, her steps slower than usual but filled with purpose. When they noticed her approaching, Oscar immediately stepped forward, grinning widely.
“Look at you!” he exclaimed, his voice teasing but affectionate. “You’re glowing!”
“And also moving slower than a snail” Lily added with a playful smirk, though her eyes were filled with warmth.
“Trust me, I feel like a penguin” Dafne laughed, placing a hand on her belly as Dorian gave a little kick in response.
“Can we feel him?” Lily asked softly, her face lighting up with excitement.
“Of course” Dafne said, guiding Lily’s hand to her belly.
“That’s amazing,” she whispered, feeling the little movements beneath her hand. Oscar placed his hand beside hers, his smile widening as he felt the soft kicks.
“Dorian’s already practicing for his debut” Oscar joked, looking up at Dafne with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
Dafne chuckled, then took a deep breath, gathering her courage. This was it.
“Hey” she started softly, her voice suddenly more serious but filled with affection. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask both of you.”
Oscar and Lily exchanged a curious glance before focusing back on Dafne, waiting expectantly.
“You two have been such an important part of my life” she smiled, glancing back at Charles, who was watching them from afar with a soft smile. “You’ve been there for me through everything, the good and the bad, and I can’t imagine our baby growing up without the two of you being a huge part of his life.”
Lily’s smile softened, her eyes already filled with emotion, while Oscar looked at Dafne with a mixture of surprise and curiosity, sensing where this conversation was going.
“So… I was wondering if you would do me the honor of being Dorian’s godparents?”
For a brief second, there was stunned silence. Oscar and Lily stared at her, wide eyed, as if trying to process the enormity of the question.
Then, all at once, their faces lit up with pure joy.
“Are you serious?” Oscar asked, his voice filled with disbelief, though the grin spreading across his face made it clear he was over the moon.
“Of course, I’m serious” Dafne said, her own eyes filling with tears. “You’re family to me, Oscar. Both of you are. The moment I came to Prema and you started to talk to me, I felt like you were a brother to me. And… Somehow I want you to be in my family, being Dorian’s godfather”
“You have no idea how much this means to us” he smiled, holding her hand and wrapping his arms around her tightly. “Thank you.”
When they finally pulled back, Lily stepped forward, hugging Dafne tightly. Both girls chuckled softly, hugging each other while moving side to side softly.
“We promise we’ll be there for him and for you, always” Lily smiled.
“I know you will” Dafne whispered, her voice thick with emotion as she held Lily close.
Just then, Charles appeared at Dafne’s side, smiling warmly at the scene. He stood next to Oscar and both of them hugged tightly for some seconds.
“So, what’s the verdict?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“We’re in” Oscar said with a laugh, clapping him on the back. . “You couldn’t have picked better.”
“Welcome to the family, then” he smiled. “This time officially”
The sun streamed through the large windows of their Monaco apartment, the weather of June already making them use summer clothes. Charles was sitting on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table, watching a Netflix show on the TV. Dafne sat on the yoga ball beside him, looking at the baby clothes that were on top of the table, folding and sorting them with a content smile.
“Look at this one!” Dafne exclaimed, holding up a tiny onesie with a little Ferrari logo stitched on the front. She laughed, imagining their baby in it. “I can already see him driving his own little car.”
“He’ll be a natural. Maybe he’ll win the Monaco Grand Prix one day. Just like his dad” he smiled proudly.
They laughed together, the warmth of the moment wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. It felt like a perfect day, one filled with simple joys and the promise of their future.
But then, just as Dafne reached for another outfit, a sudden sharp pain shot through her abdomen. She froze, her breath hitching slightly.
“Dafne?” Charles asked immediately, worried. “Are you okay?”
“I think so… It was just a little cramp” she smiled, shaking her head softly.
“Are you sure? Should I get you some water?” He was already moving, ready to spring into action, the instinct to care for her taking over.
“I’m fine” she promised him, waving him off. “Just… a little uncomfortable”
But as she spoke, another wave of pain rolled through her, more intense than the first. This one took her breath away, and she clutched her belly, the sudden realization hitting her.
“Charles!” Her voice trembled, eyes wide.
“What?” he frowned confused, already kneeling in front of her.
"I think…" she trailed off, pressing her lips together as she tried to breathe through the discomfort.
Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the sensation. She had felt Braxton Hicks contractions before, but this… this felt different. Stronger. More insistent.
"I think it’s starting" she whispered, her eyes widening as the realization washed over her. "Charles, I think these are real contractions."
Charles’ heart skipped a beat. His calm demeanor faltered for just a moment before he pulled himself together, taking a deep breath and holding Dafne’s hands tightly.
"Okay, okay. Don’t panic" he said, though he could feel the adrenaline already starting to pump through his veins. "We’ve got this. We’re prepared"
Dafne nodded, but her breathing had quickened. She placed both hands on her belly, wincing slightly as another wave of discomfort rolled through her.
"Let’s time them, yeah?" Charles suggested, pulling out his phone. "Just to see how far apart they are."
Dafne nodded, trying to relax into the ball, though her body felt tense, her muscles reacting to the new intensity of the contractions. Charles took her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as they waited together in silence. After a minute, another contraction hit, stronger than the last, causing her to grip his hand tightly.
"Breathe, love" he whispered softly. "In and out. I’m right here."
Dafne did as he said, focusing on her breath, even though the pain was starting to grow more intense. She knew what was happening, this was the real deal, but it still felt surreal. They had been enjoying such a calm, peaceful day, and now, just like that, everything was shifting.
After a few minutes, another contraction hit, and Charles stopped the timer, taking a deep breath while he kissed Dafne’s forehead.
"They’re about ten minutes apart" he said, his voice steady. "I think we need to get ready."
“The hospital bag is next to the door” she said, groaning softly as she stood up slowly.
He stood quickly, moving with a sense of purpose as he grabbed the hospital bag they had packed a month ago, along with a few extra things he thought she might need. Dafne slowly eased herself out of the ball, standing up with some difficulty as another contraction hit, her breath coming in short bursts.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with concern, though he was trying to stay as calm as possible for her.
"I’m okay" she nodded, though her face tightened. "It’s just… intense."
"I’ve got you" he whispered, helping her to the door. "We’re going to the hospital now, okay? Just hang in there."
Dafne took a deep breath, focusing on the sound of his voice. The contractions were coming faster now, each one stronger than the last, but with Charles by her side, she felt steadier. She knew they were ready for this moment, even if it had come sooner than expected.
As they stepped out of the apartment, Charles paused for a second, looking down at her, his eyes softening despite the rush.
"We’re about to meet him" he whispered, his voice filled with wonder and excitement.
Dafne smiled through the pain, her hand gripping his tightly.
"Yeah" she breathed. "We’re going to meet our son."
The drive to the hospital felt endless. The contractions had come closer and stronger as Charles drove through the streets of Monaco, his eyes flicking to Dafne every few seconds to make sure she was okay. Her grip was firm on his hand, her breathing uneven but steady as she focused on getting through each wave of pain.
“Almost there, love” he whispered, his voice tight with a mixture of worry and excitement. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins, but he stayed as calm as he could, trying to keep her grounded.
When they finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, the moment felt surreal. Charles hurried out of the car, rushing to Dafne’s side as she stepped out slowly, clutching her belly. The pain was now constant, waves of pressure rolling through her body one after another.
“We’re here” Charles said as he helped her into the hospital.
He could see the tension in her face, the way she was gripping his arm, but he wasn’t about to let her go through this alone. He was right there beside her, guiding her with every step.
As they entered the hospital, a nurse quickly approached them, guiding them towards the maternity floor. Charles was barely able to keep up, his mind racing as the reality of the situation hit him all at once. They were about to have their baby.
By the time they reached the delivery room, Dafne was trembling, but she was still breathing through the contractions, and Charles remained by her side, holding her hand and offering words of encouragement.
“You’re doing really well, Dafne” the doctor said with a reassuring smile. “It’s almost time to meet your baby. We have to wait until you are fully dilated, okay?”
Dafne’s breath hitched at the mention of the baby, her eyes widening as another powerful contraction gripped her body. She clutched Charles’s hand so hard her knuckles turned white.
“Charles” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “I can’t… I really can’t do this.”
“You can” he said, leaning in close, his voice soft but firm. “You’ve been strong the entire time. You’re almost there. Dorian’s almost here.”
She nodded, but the fear in her eyes was still there. She squeezed her eyes shut as the pain began to build again, her body arching with the force of it. The nurse was already getting ready for the birth, setting up the instruments, while the doctor prepared herself.
“You’ve got this. I’m right here with you. You’re not alone” Charles whispered, wiping away the drops of sweat that were running down her temple.
Dafne nodded again, her breathing slowing a little as she focused on his voice, letting it anchor her through the next few contractions. She gripped his hand tighter, her nails digging into his skin, but he didn’t flinch. He knew she needed him to stay strong.
And then, the moment came.
“Dafne, it’s time to push” the doctor said, her voice calm but filled with urgency.
“It hurts too much” Dafne mumbled, taking a deep breath.
“I know” the doctor said firmly. “You’re fully dilated. You just need to push, love.”
The first push was slow, but the pain pushed her past the fear, and she did it again, harder this time. Charles’s hand was holding hers, his voice murmuring calming words in her ear.
“That’s it, love. Just a little more. You’re so close” he said softly, his face inches from hers, watching with a mixture of awe and concern.
She pushed again, feeling the pressure building, the pain unbearable yet urging her to keep going.
“This is your fucking fault!” she exclaimed through the pain. “If you just used a condom… Fucking asshole!”
“I know, love. I know” he chuckled, knowing that she didn’t mean none of that, not anymore. “Come on, push more, he’s coming”
And in that moment, the world seemed to stop.
The room was filled with the sound of a newborn’s cry, loud and sharp as the doctor gently held Dorian up. Charles, with tears in his eyes, could barely believe what he was seeing. The tiny, perfect baby they had created together, finally here.
“Dorian” Dafne whispered through her tears, her voice full of pure adoration. She watched as the nurse quickly cleaned him up, and Charles moved to stand beside her, his hands shaking with excitement.
“He’s… he’s perfect” Charles whispered, his voice choking with emotion as he leaned down to kiss Dafne’s forehead, his hand gently caressing her face. “We did it. God, you are so strong, my love. Thank you, thank you…”
Dafne looked up at him, her heart swelling with love and exhaustion. Dorian’s cry softened as the nurse wrapped him up in a small, white blanket and handed him to Dafne, her arms already reaching for him instinctively. Charles, with his own tears now falling freely, leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Our son” he whispered, watching as Dafne held the tiny, fragile life between them.
“He’s ours” she whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. Dafne’s eyes were wide as she stared down at their baby. His tiny face, his little fingers, his perfect little features.
Charles kissed her once more, his hand resting on her shoulder as they both looked down at their newborn son, their hearts swelling with love and relief.
“Welcome to the world, Dorian Jules Hervé Leclerc” Dafne whispered softly to him, her voice full of wonder and joy.
And in that moment, the world outside the hospital seemed to fade away. Everything was quiet. Just them. Their new family.
charles_lelcerc
liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 819.571 others
charles_leclerc This morning, Dafne and I were joking about me buying her sushi the day Dorian arrives.
Now, I'm posting this while I go back to the hospital after we just welcomed our son to the world.
Dorian Jules Hervé Leclerc was born today, 17th of June of 2025. He's healthy and beautiful, and Dafne is recovering too. The birth was incrediblly quick, it took us by surprise and we rushed immediately to the hospital.
The fact that our son was born today, day 17, feels like a signal that our beloved Jules is blessing us.
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scuderiaferrari Welcome to the world Dorian!
oscarpiastri Lily and I are on our way to meet our godson
landonorris There's no way he's the godfather. What about me?
pierregasly What about you? What about me????
charles_leclerc pierregasly don't worry, you'll be the next one
dafnemorelli charles_leclerc go to hell if you are already planning the next baby. If you give birth to it then we can negotiate it. Bring the sushi. I'm hungry.
charles_leclerc of course, my love❤️
carlossainz55 Congratulations mate! You deserve it so much!
f1academy ❤️❤️❤️
dafnemorelli
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 927.518 others
dafnemorelli I can't believe that you are finally here. Now that I have you in my arms, holding you close to my heart, I can say that I'm a mother, a proud mom.
I love you, Dorian. I will protect you and keep you safe.
Dorian Jules Hervé Leclerc. 17 of June of 2025.
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soleil_morelli Can't wait to meet him
ericamorelli God he's so beautiful!
f1 Dorian is so beautiful. We're so happy you two are alright! Can't be prouder❤️
fewawifan OMG BABY DORIAN! HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL! 😭😭
dafneismymom I should change my user name?
dafnemorelli dafneismymom nah, makes me feel more milf than I already am
fewawifan omfg 😂😂
charles_leclerc I agree. You are a milf.
charles_leclerc I love you, Dafne. You are the love of my life, can't wait to see how our story continues❤️
runnaway bride, forbidden love, destinated lovers, love triangle, second chance, road trip, slow burn
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: Lando POV, anxiety, unrequired love
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a/n: Are you guys excited to read what comes next? What do you think will happen??
If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!
Every way of feedback is very welcomed
🏎️
The hotel is stunning.
Grand yet intimate, with towering arched windows that let in the golden afternoon light, illuminating the soft gold tones of the decorations. The courtyard is meticulously arranged, white roses cascading from centerpieces, lining the long aisle that stretches toward a floral arch at the altar.
Everything is harmonious, perfectly selected, elegant without being too much. It looks expensive but simple, luxurious but romantic.
It looks exactly like something Lyra would have dreamed of.
I walk through the space slowly, dragging my fingers along the backs of the white velvet chairs, feeling the soft fabric under my fingertips as I force myself to take it all in.
Every single detail, every single flower arrangement, it’s all familiar.
Because I’ve heard about it before. Because I remember the night she described it to me in perfect detail, years ago, before either of us had even thought about marriage as something real, when it was still just an idea, a fantasy.
We were fifteen.
We had been lying in her backyard after one of her sisters’ weddings, the cool grass beneath us, the scent of summer in the air and a plate full of sweets we stole from the kids table.
"I want my weddig to be perfect."
I had turned my head to look at her, rolling my eyes in that way I always did when she got carried away.
"It's just a wedding, Lyra." I sighed.
She had gasped, appalled, before shoving me so hard that the air left my lungs for a second.
"It is not just a wedding, Lando!” she exclaimed, blushing deeply. “Weddings are special, and mine is going to be exactly how I want it. Roses everywhere, like an actual fairytale, but not red ones. White or maybe light pink. No, white is better... And I don’t want it in some boring church. I want it outside, maybe by the sea, where you can hear the waves in the background while I walk down the aisle. And my dress has to be simple but elegant, nothing too over the top, but something that makes me feel like I belong in a storybook..."
I let her talk, like I always did, letting her fill the silence with her plans and her dreams because I liked the way her voice sounded when she got excited, because I liked the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about things she loved.
Now, standing here, staring at the reality of that childhood dream, I feel something twist in my chest, something that makes it almost impossible to breathe.
Because this is it, this is what she always wanted.
And none of it, not a single part of it, has anything to do with me.
I let out a slow breath, dragging a hand down my face, willing the ache in my chest to disappear, but it doesn't. It just sits there, heavy and suffocating, like a weight pressing down on me.
I don’t know why I came. Maybe because I needed to see it for myself, needed to face the reality of it, needed to let it hurt so badly that I would finally get it through my head that this isn’t a nightmare I’m going to wake up from. This isn’t something I can change. This is her life. Her choice.
And I was never a part of it.
Maybe I always thought I would be. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe that at some point, eventually, I was going to tell her. That there would be a right time, a perfect moment where I could finally say the words I had been swallowing since I was twelve years old, the words that had been buried under years of friendship and missed chances.
But that moment never came.
She never looked at me the way I looked at her. And I had never had the courage to say anything before it was too late.
I glance up toward the hotel, where I know she must be right now.
I wonder what she’s doing. Is she nervous? Excited? I wonder if she’s looking at herself in the mirror and feeling like the happiest version of herself.
And then I wonder if she’s thought about me at all.
If, even for a second, I crossed her mind today.
I have to go inside. I have to find her, talk to her, say something, anything. I have to tell her how I feel, even if it doesn’t matter anymore. Even if it never mattered in the first place.
But what good would it do?
She made her choice.
And it wasn’t me.
I spent years imagining what she would look like on her wedding day.
It wasn’t intentional. But sometimes, the idea of it came into my mind when I least expected it. During long flights home, during late nights alone, during the silence between races when my mind wasn’t occupied enough to keep her away.
I thought of her in white, of the way her orange hair might be styled, the way her smile would look softer, gentle, full of something I never got to have.
And yet, nothing I had ever imagined compared to the reality of seeing her there.
Frozen in front of the door to his room, quiet as a statue,with her fingers clenched so tightly on the dress that her knuckles were white.
For a moment, I can’t move.
I don’t think she even realizes I’m standing there. Her breathing is shallow, her shoulders too stiff, as if she’s waiting for something.
I shouldn’t be here. I know that.
I should turn around, walk away before she notices me, before I make this harder than it already is. But then, just as I will myself to leave, her hand lifts slightly, as if she’s going to push the door open.
But she doesn’t. She hesitates.
And that hesitation makes something crack open in my chest.
I don’t think about it. I just take a step forward.
“Lyra?”
The word barely leaves my lips before she flinches, turning sharply to face me.
For the first time in over a year, I see her. Really see her.
And she is so damn beautiful it almost brings me to my knees.
The dress, the makeup, the way her hair falls down on her back, it’s all exactly how I imagined it, and yet it feels so painfully wrong, because she’s not wearing it for me.
Her wide eyes search mine, and for a moment, neither of us moves.
I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t her looking at me like I’m the last person she expected to see, like she doesn’t know how to breathe now that I’m here.
Like maybe, just maybe, she missed me too.
She swallows hard, her lips parting slightly before she finally says my name.
“Lando.”
God, I missed the way she says it.
It’s the same voice, the same familiar tone, and yet something about it sounds different.
I blink, my throat tightening as I exhale, trying to ground myself in this moment.
“You-” I start, but the words die in my throat as my gaze flickers past her, to the closed door she had been staring at.
Something heavy settles in my stomach.
I don’t ask. I don’t let myself ask.
But I don’t need to.
“I-” she mumbles, her voice barely audible as a whisper.
I can see it in her face, in the way she won’t meet my eyes for longer than a second, in the way she’s gripping her dress like she’s afraid she might fall apart if she lets go.
“Are you okay?” I asked softly, trying to ease the anxiety she might be feeling.
She should say yes. She should laugh, roll her eyes, tell me I have no right to ask her that after all this time. But she doesn’t.
She just stands there, silent, and for the first time since I’ve known her, Lyra Montgomery doesn’t have an answer.
Her fingers tremble around the bouquet, her shoulders rising and falling too quickly, and something in me breaks.
I was supposed to come here and tell her how I feel, that was the plan: to find her before the wedding, to say everything I had been too much of a coward to say for the past ten years. That I loved her. That I had always loved her. That I should have said something sooner, that maybe it wouldn’t have changed anything, but I needed her to know.
But now, looking at her, really looking at her, I know I can’t.
Because this isn’t about me. It never was.
She’s standing here in her wedding dress, minutes away from marrying someone else, and she looks terrified.
Something is wrong.
And I don’t know what it is.
But I can do one thing. I can be there for her, just this once.
“Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” I sighed, trying to organize my own thoughts and feelings, walking closer to her.
She blinks, caught off guard.
“What?”
“Not far” I add quickly, tilting my head toward the end of the hallway. “Just… somewhere quiet.”
Somewhere away from that door. Somewhere away from whatever is making her grip her dress like it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
She hesitates.
And then, slowly, she nods.
I don’t say anything else. I just start walking, knowing she’ll follow.
And she does.
We step outside through one of the hotel’s side entrances, the cool air biting at my skin. The garden is empty, the wedding setup untouched, waiting for the guests to arrive.
I lean against the low stone wall near a fountain, watching her as she stands a few steps away.
I missed her.
I missed her so much it physically hurts.
“I missed you” I say, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
She stiffens, inhaling sharply.
I can see the war on her face, the way she bites the inside of her cheek, the way her grip on her dress tightens just slightly.
“Lando…”
“Did you miss me?” I ask. My voice is steady, but there’s something raw underneath it.
She exhales sharply, looking away, shaking her head like she doesn’t know how to answer.
“This is ridiculous. You show up after what, a year? And now you want to talk?”
I flinch. But I deserve that.
“I didn’t come here to fight, Lyra.”
“Then why did you come?” she challenges, crossing her arms.
I hesitate. Because I can’t tell her the truth.
I can’t tell her that I came here to confess, that I wanted to be selfish just for once in my life.
So instead, I say the only thing I can.
“Do you really want to get married?”
She stills.
And that’s when I know.
She doesn’t answer. She doesn’t snap at me, doesn’t tell me I’m an idiot for even asking.
She just looks at me, and in that moment, I know that no matter how much she loves him, no matter how much she tries to convince herself otherwise, she’s not sure.
Not really.
“I should go. I have to get ready” she said, forcing a smile.
I swallow hard, glancing away before I do something stupid.
I don’t say anything else. Before she turns around to leave, I just reach into my pocket, pulling out a set of keys.
“What-”
I stand in frint of her and grab her free hand, placing the keys and pressing them on her palm. I let my fingers linger on her skin just for a second, noticing how sweaty her palms are, how nervous she is.
“They’re for my car,” I say, taking a step back. “and my apartment.”
“What?” her breath catches, looking at the keys.
“If you need to get away” I continue. “If you need… a way out.”
She stares at the keys like they might burn her. She should throw them back at me. She should walk away. But she doesn’t.
She takes them. She puts them inside of the pocket of her dress.
And when she finally leaves, she doesn’t look back.
I sit in the last row with my hands clasped together, elbows resting on my knees, my foot tapping against the stone floor in a nervous rhythm I can’t seem to stop. I am away from the carefully arranged guests, away from the family, the friends, the people who have every right to be here. Because I don’t belong.
I never have.
And maybe that’s why I don’t hear her approach.
The sharp click, click, click of her heels against the stone floor doesn’t register until it’s too late.
Until she’s right there.
I didn't move at first. I don’t even look up. I know who it is before she speaks, before the familiar scent of her overpowering perfume invades my senses.
Elena Montgomery.
Lyra’s mother.
“Lando Norris” she purrs, voice smooth as silk and twice as sharp. “I must admit it, I was hoping you would show up.”
Slowly, I look up, meeting the icy blue eyes of the woman who has hated me since the moment I met her daughter. She stands beside my chair, dressed in an elegant blue gown, diamonds at her throat, and a manicured hand resting delicately on her hip.
She doesn’t sit. She just wants to look down at me.
And I say nothing.
Because I know her game. And I won’t fucking play it.
“Tell me, does it hurt?” she asks, tilting her head, studying me like I’m something pathetic.
I clench my jaw, but don’t answer.
But she keeps talking, making my blood boil in my veins.
“Watching her marry someone else” she pauses, lets the words sink in, then continues. “You came all this way, sat yourself in the back like a loyal little dog, but you’ll never have her.”
I exhale slowly, turning my gaze back to the altar, to the empty aisle.
Elena follows my gaze, and when she speaks again, her voice is even softer, almost sweet, but tainted with poison as always.
“You know, I sent you the invitation.”
That makes me look at her.
“What?” I mumble.
“Oh, Lyra didn’t know that, of course. But I made sure you got it” she leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “I wanted you to see it happen, Lando. I wanted you to sit here and watch as she becomes Edward’s wife.”
The words land deep in my chest, stabbing me with a precision only a woman like her is capable of.
And she knows it. That’s why she’s smiling.
Because this is a game to her. A victory. A final, calculated move to remind me that I was never good enough.
She straightens, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress, and then placing her hand on my shoulder, her nails pressing into the material of the shirt.
“You were always a foolish little boy, clinging to something that was never yours to begin with” she sighs.. “But I suppose I should thank you. Your presence here today makes this even more satisfying-”
“Are you done?” I interrupted her.
She frowned and groaned, taking away her hand from my shoulder and putting a fake smile on her lips. I don’t even blink as Elena scoffs and takes a step back, as if I’m no longer worth her time.
And as she walks away, I sit there, completely still, eyes locked on the path Lyra is supposed to take.
The moment the string quartet starts playing, the air shifts.
The delicate melody washes over the crowd like a wave, and again, everything feels scripted, like we’re part of a performance where every move has been choreographed, where everyone knows their place, their role
And her role, the perfect bride, walking toward the perfect groom, in the perfect wedding, begins now.
I exhale slowly, keeping my face neutral as every pair of eyes turns toward the entrance.
And then, she appears.
Lyra.
She walks slowly, arm hooked with her father’s, bouquet gripped tightly in her hands. Too tightly. The knuckles of her fingers are pale against the delicate flowers.
No one else sees it.
No one else notices the way her chest rises and falls in quick, shallow breaths. No one else sees the way she blinks a little too often, or the way her fingers tremble against the silk of her dress.
But I do.
I see her.
And I know she’s not okay.
I can feel it, no matter how much time has passed, no matter how many miles stretched between us.
I watch her carefully, my pulse thrumming against my ribs, my stomach twisted into something sharp and uneasy.
And then I realize, she’s searching for something.
No.
She’s searching for someone.
For a second, my breath catches in my throat..
Her green eyes move over the crowd, barely lingering on the guests, skipping past familiar faces. She looks toward the altar, where Edward is standing, waiting, his expression unreadable.
But then her gaze moves past him.
And she finds me.
It’s only a fraction of a second, but it’s enough.
Enough for me to see the raw, desperate emotion in her eyes.
She looks at me like she needs me. Like she’s begging me to say something, to do something.
And I can’t.
I can’t tell her what to do. I can’t make this choice for her.
So I do the only thing I can.
I nod.
Just slightly. Just enough to tell her that it’s okay. That she can do this. That if she wants to walk down that aisle, if she wants to say yes, I won’t stop her.
But the second I do it, something changes.
Her breath stutters.
And then she takes a step back.
My stomach drops.
I see the exact moment the panic overtakes her, the exact second she realizes she can’t do it.
Her father turns to her, confused, whispering something under his breath, but she doesn’t respond.
And then, suddenly she moves. She runs.
She lifts the hem of her dress and turns around, running away from her father, the veil slipping from her hair as she disappears down the path, away from the altar, away from Edward, away from the life everyone expected her to walk into.
And for a moment, there’s nothing but silence.
And then, chaos erupts.
A woman screams. Lyra’s mother is on her feet, hands pressed to her mouth in absolute horror. People stand, murmur, panic.
And me?
I laugh.
Quietly, at first. Just a breathy laugh. But then it grows, making my stomach hurt and my cheeks turn red full of tears as I feel the lack of air because of the attack of laughter.
Because this is so Lyra.
Of course she would wait until the very last second to make a decision.
I don’t even glance at Edward. I don’t care what his expression is, if he’s chasing after her or if he’s frozen in place, humiliated in front of Monaco’s elite.
Because all I care about is that she got away.
I slip out of the crowd before anyone can notice, disappearing through a side entrance and onto the street.
I don’t need to guess where she went.
I knew the second I put those keys in her hand and she put them in the pocket of her dress.
The taxi ride to my apartment is quiet, my fingers tapping against my knee, my pulse still racing from the adrenaline of watching her run away.
And then, when I open the door of my apartment with the in case keys, the scent of her perfume is the first thing that hits me.
She's here.
Sitting on my couch, still in her wedding dress, barefoot, knees pulled up to her chest as she drinks a can of Coca-Cola while watching the screen of the television in my living room.
Her shoulders rise and fall with each uneven breath, and when she hears me, her head snaps up.
runnaway bride, forbidden love, destinated lovers, love triangle, second chance, road trip, slow burn
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: anxiety
Masterlist
prologue | next part
a/n: This is the first chapter! What do you think? Where wil she go?
If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!
Every way of feedback is very welcomed
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I can’t breathe.
The corset of my wedding dress isn’t even fully laced yet, but the room already feels suffocating. Too many voices, too many hands fixing my hair, adjusting the fabric, touching up my makeup.
I stare at my reflection in the floor-length mirror, trying to recognize myself beneath the layers of silk and makeup, only recognizing the green of my eyes.
“You need to sit still, Lyra” my mother says with her tone sharp, as always. “The last thing we need is for you to start sweating before the ceremony.”
“She looks a little pale” my oldest sister, Vivian, walks in, arms crossed as she studies me like I’m one of her patients. “Are you sure you’re not going to pass out?”
“She’s a trauma surgeon, Viv” Olivia, my other sister, scoffs. “She’s seen worse things than her own wedding dress.”
“She’s also been up since five in the morning,” Vivian points. “and barely ate anything at breakfast.”
“I wasn’t hungry” I sigh, but no one hears me. Or if they do, they don’t care.
The room is buzzing with tension, but no one except me seems to feel it. To them, today is just another grand occasion in the Montgomery family legacy. Another perfect event.
“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” my mother asked, placing a firm hand on my shoulder.
The question sends a shiver down my spine, making me look at her through the reflection of the mirror like she was insulting me.
“No!” I answered quickly.
Too quickly.
She studied me for a second that felt like an eternity. Her eyes scanned my face and then my dress, and then they stopped in the big stone of my middle finger.
“Good. Because this wedding is exactly what it should be” she nodded.
I try to smile, try to tell myself she’s right.
Edward is everything I could have hoped for. He’s kind, intelligent, the kind of man who makes sense for me. The kind of man my family loves, the kind of man who fits into my world.
So why does it feel like my chest is caving in?
Take a deep breath. Another. It doesn’t help.
“I just need a minute alone” I say suddenly, pushing myself up from the chair, making the woman that was fixing my hair take a step back.
“Lyra, we don’t have time-” my mother starts, but I’m already stepping away.
“Just a minute” I insist, forcing a smile. “I’ll be fine.”
Before they can argue, I slip out of the room, closing the door behind me.
The hallway is empty, silent, a stark contrast to the chaos inside. The air is cooler here, no hands pulling at me, no voices telling me where to stand, what to do, who to be, what to wear.
I exhale, pressing my palms against the wall, trying to steady my breath. My heart is racing, my fingers trembling. This isn’t nerves.
It’s something else.
I lift my gaze and start walking, my bare feet silent against the polished marble floor. My dress trails behind me, the silk whispering with every step behind me.
The corridors of the hotel are long, adorned with some pottery and paintings on the walls. I trace my fingers along the walls as I walk, grounding myself, trying to find some version of me that doesn’t feel so… lost.
And then, almost without thinking, my feet take me toward Edward’s room.
I stop just outside the door.
It’s slightly open, just enough that I could push it open if I wanted to.
I should.
I should step inside, wrap my arms around him, let him kiss my forehead and tell me that everything is going to be fine. That this pressure in my chest is normal, that I want this just as much as he does.
But I don’t move.
I hesitate.
And then, I hear something.
A sound. A voice. Then another.
My fingers twitch at my sides, my breath hitching in my throat. I should push the door open. I should step inside. I should.
But I don’t.
My heart pounds so loudly I can barely think. My hand lifts slightly, nearly touching the door to push it open, but I can’t bring myself to touch it.
I can’t move.
The world feels too still, too fragile, like the wrong step might make everything collapse.
“Lyra?”
The voice comes from behind me, low, uncertain, and too familiar.
I turn sharply, my dress catching on the floor, and suddenly, he’s there.
Him.
For a second, neither of us moves. Neither of us speaks.
His expression shifts through a thousand emotions in an instant, confusion, disbelief, something else I can’t name. His blue eyes widen, scanning me from head to toe, as if he can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.
The wedding dress.
His lips part slightly, but no words come out. He just stands there, frozen, like if he moves, I might disappear.
My chest tightens.
I haven’t seen him in months. Maybe a year. Or was it more than a year? Time slipped through our fingers like sand, and now here we are, two people who used to be everything to each other, standing in a hallway like strangers.
“Lando” I said, swallowing hard when I noticed how long it has been since the last time I said his name.
He blinks, his throat working as he exhales and tries to find the correct words to say.
“You-” he stops, his eyes flickering to the closed door behind me, then back to my face.
I don’t know what he sees in my expression, but whatever it is, it makes him take a step closer.
“I-” I start to say something, anything, but my voice comes out weak. My pulse is erratic, my hands cold.
He notices. Of course he does. He always notices.
“Are you okay?” his voice is softer now, like he’s afraid I’ll break if he speaks too loudly.
I should say yes. I should nod and smile and pretend everything is fine. Because it should be.
But the words don’t come.
The weight in my chest is heavier now, suffocating. And Lando… Lando is here. Looking at me like I’m someone he hasn’t stopped thinking about.
Like he still knows me.
I shake my head, just slightly, my hands gripping the fabric of my dress.
And he takes another step forward.
Closer.
Like he’s about to catch me if I fall.
Lando’s eyes search mine, his expression unreadable. There’s something in the way he’s looking at me, like he’s trying to figure me out, trying to see through me the way he always used to.
“Do you want to get out of here for a bit?” he asks, voice low.
“What?”
“Not far” he adds quickly, tilting his head toward the end of the hallway. “Just… somewhere quiet.”
Somewhere away from this door, this pressure pressing down on my chest like a weight I can’t shake off.
I hesitate for half a second.
And then, I nod.
Lando doesn’t say anything else. He just starts walking, like he knows I’ll follow.
And I do.
We step outside through one of the side entrances of the hotel, into the cool afternoon air. The garden is empty, no guests yet, no noise, just the distant hum of preparations happening elsewhere.
I exhale slowly.
Lando leans against the low stone wall near a fountain, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit pants. He’s not dressed for the wedding, not really. His shirt is slightly wrinkled, his tie missing. He looks… the same, and yet not.
Older.
Different.
I don’t know when the last time we had a real conversation was, one without fighting or screaming at the other.
He watches me, studying every shift in my expression.
“I missed you.”
The words hit me harder than I expect them to, making me blink and catch in a deep breath.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to control my feelings.
“Lando…”
“Did you miss me?” he asks. His voice is steady, but there’s something vulnerable beneath it.
I inhale sharply.
Yes. Yes, I missed you.
I missed his voice, his stupid jokes, the way he could always tell when something was wrong, even before I could.
But instead of answering, I just shake my head, laughing under my breath, still feeling the stab of how much he hurt me in the past.
“This is ridiculous. You show up after what, a year? Two? And now you want to talk?”
He flinches slightly, but recovers quickly, crossing his arms on his chest.
“I didn’t come here to fight, Lyra.”
“Then why did you come?” I ask, crossing my arms.
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he won’t answer. He runs his hand over his curly hair, a hair that he never took care of and now is amazingly curled.
“Do you really want to marry him?”
The question knocks the air from my lungs.
I open my mouth, then close it.
I should be offended. I should snap at him, tell him he has no right to ask me that.
But I don’t.
Because for some reason, I can’t find the words to say yes.
The question hangs between us, heavy and suffocating.
Do you really want to marry him?
I should say yes. I should laugh, roll my eyes, tell him that of course I do. That I love Edward, that I’ve been waiting for this day, that everything is exactly as it should be. I should slap him and insult him.
But I don’t.
Instead, I force a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach my eyes.
“I should go. I have to get ready.”
Lando’s expression flickers with something close to frustration, but not quite. He exhales through his nose, looking away for a moment, like he’s debating saying something else.
Then, just as I turn to leave, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a set of keys.
“What-”
He takes my hand, pressing them into my palm. His fingers linger against mine for just a second longer than necessary before he steps back.
“They’re for my car” he says. “And my apartment.”
“What?” I frowned, looking at the keys he just gave me.
“If you need to get away” he continues, voice quieter now. “If you need… a way out.”
I feel my pulse hammering in my ears. Somehow that made my heart beat faster. He’s giving me a way out, a helping hand.
“Lando-”
“Just take them” his blue eyes meet mine, steady and sure. “You don’t have to use them. But if you ever want to…” He trails off, running a hand through his curls. “You know where to go. You know where is my apartment”
My fingers curl around the metal, the weight of the keys grounding me.
I should give them back. I should shove them into his chest and tell him this is ridiculous, that I don’t need them, that I’m not running away from my own wedding.
But I don’t.
Instead of throwing them to him, I put them in the pocket of my dress.
And when I finally walk away, I don’t look back.
But I know he’s still standing there, watching me go.
As I stared at my reflection, my fingers curled tightly around the cold metal in my pocket.
The weight of the keys pressed into my palm. It’s small, insignificant objects, yet they feel heavier than the bouquet waiting on the vanity beside me.
I shouldn’t be holding them. I shouldn’t even be thinking about them.
And yet, I can’t seem to let them go.
My wedding dress is perfect. A masterpiece of silk and lace, tailored to fit me like a second skin. The veil drapes down my back like something out of a dream. The makeup artists and hairstylists had worked meticulously, transforming me into the perfect bride.
But as I look at myself, I feel like I’m watching a stranger.
My heart slams against my ribs, hard enough that I can almost hear it over the silence of the room, making me think that in any moment it can break free out of my chest.
I’m just nervous. That’s all.
That’s what I keep telling myself.
That’s what I have to believe.
I force my fingers to unclench, slowly, carefully pulling my hand out of my pocket. I don’t look down, not wanting to see the imprint of the keys pressed into my skin.
Instead, I reach for the bouquet, holding it like a lifeline. The scent of roses and lilies fills my nose, too strong, too sweet, making my stomach churn.
There’s another knock at the door, firm and controlled.
I swallow hard, turning around to face the door.
When the door opens, my father steps inside.
He looks at me the way he always does: calm, composed, intimidating. His gaze moves over me, his sharp eyes flickering with something unreadable before he finally nods.
“Lyra” his voice is steady, calm as always.
“Dad.”
“You look beautiful”he said, taking a step closer, with his presence filling the room.
“Thank you” my voice feels too small compared to his
“This wedding… it’s a big moment. Not just for you, but for all of us.”
All of us.
I shift my grip on the bouquet, fingers tightening as I let the words sink deep into me.
“You and Edward,” he continues, “you’re going to do great things together. Two brilliant minds, two powerful families… This is more than just a marriage, Lyra. It’s a legacy.”
A legacy.
My chest tightens.
“You understand that, don’t you?” his voice is gentle, but there’s an edge to it: a quiet expectation.
“Of course” I nodded, feeling my throat dry.
He studies me for a long moment, his sharp gaze unwavering.
“Then why do you look like you can’t breathe?”
My stomach clenches, making me flinch.
“I-” I shake my head. “I’m just… nervous. You know, pre-wedding jitters.” I force a weak laugh, but it sounds wrong, fake.
He doesn’t smile, something that makes me panic even more.
“You’ve never been the type to get nervous, Lyra.”
“It’s a big day.”
“It is.” he nods slowly. “But you know what’s bigger? Everything that comes after.”
His words settle over me like a weight.
I try to steady my breathing, but my fingers tremble against the silk of my dress.
“Do you love him?”
“What?”
His eyes are unreadable, like he was studying me or judging me, like if I was one of those patients that refuses to say where it hurts or to even ask for help.
“Edward. Do you love him?”
“Yes.” The answer is automatic, immediate. Too fast.
“Good.”
I grip the bouquet tighter, feeling how I am crushing the flowers against my chest.
“Do you think mom had doubts before she married you?”
He exhales sharply, like the question surprises him. Then, after a pause, he nods slowly, drawing a small smile on his lips.
“Of course she did. It’s natural.”
“And you?”
“No.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling the guilt eating me alive.
“When you make the right choice,” he continues, his voice firm, “there’s no room for doubt.”
His words hit like a hammer to my chest.
Right choice.
What if I’m making the wrong one?
He glances at his watch, then nods toward the door.
“It’s time.”
The words make my stomach drop.
I inhale sharply, willing my feet to move.
But they don’t.
For a terrifying moment, I just stand there, frozen.
The dress is too tight. The room is too small. The bouquet is too heavy. My breath is too shallow.
My father is waiting. Everyone is waiting.
I swallow hard, forcing myself to step forward.
He extends his hand toward me. And I hesitate, just for a fraction of a second, before placing mine in his.
His grip is firm. Grounding.
But as he leads me toward the door, my heart slams against my ribs.
The hallway stretches out before me, too long, too bright, too final.
The keys in my pocket are there, I can still feel their weight, like a ghost of a choice I haven’t made yet.
And as the door of the elevator opens, I can't stop to ask myself…
What if I don’t walk down that aisle?
I walk in silence, with my father’s arm steady beneath my hand, his grip firm but not comforting. Each step feels too deliberate, like my body is moving on its own, but my mind is somewhere else.
The air outside is thick with the scent of flowers and freshly cut grass. The sun filters through the trees, casting golden light across the backyard of the hotel, where rows of white chairs stretch toward the altar. Guests are seated, their voices hushed in anticipation.
Everything looks perfect. Too perfect.
A breeze rolls through, moving my veil. A few petals from my bouquet tremble, and then one snaps off entirely, drifting to the ground.
My heart clenches.
I tighten my grip on the bouquet, holding it closer to my chest.
It’s nothing. Just a flower.
We step onto the pathway leading to the aisle, and I feel the tug before I hear the rip.
My father steps too close, the sharp heel of his polished shoe catching the edge of my train.
The delicate lace snaps, the sound slicing through the quiet like a whip.
I freeze.
“It’s fine,” he says looking down at the dress, brushing it off like it’s nothing. “No one will notice.”
But I notice.
I swallow hard and start walking again, but my chest feels tighter.
The sun flickers against something above me, and I glance up.
A pigeon, perched on the arch of roses.
And then:
Plop.
Right onto the stone path.
In front of my feet.
I stare.
It’s stupid. It’s so stupid. But my stomach twists violently, nausea rising in my throat.
Something is wrong.
“Well, it's a signal of good luck” my father said, laughing softly.
I take a sharp breath, trying to shake the unease creeping under my skin. But every step feels heavier, like the air is thickening around me.
I hear my father clear his throat, his voice lowering as we near the entrance of the aisle.
“Are you ready?”
I don’t know what to say.
I should say yes. I should smile.
But all I can do is grip the bouquet so tightly that the stems creak under the pressure.
I open my mouth, but the words don’t come out.
And before I can find them the music starts and the doors open.
Every single person turns to look at me.
Rows and rows of familiar faces, all smiling, all expectant. My mother, my sisters, Edward’s family, friends, colleagues… everyone is here.
But I only look for one person.
I scan the crowd, my pulse pounding in my ears, searching.
And then I see him.
Lando.
Standing near the back, half-hidden by the crowd, but still there.
His eyes meet mine.
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t smile.
He just looks at me, watching, waiting.
And then be nods.
It’s small. Barely noticeable. But it hits me like a punch to the chest.
A silent confirmation.
Something inside me snaps.
My breath catches. My feet stop.
And for the first time since this morning, I do something I wasn’t supposed to do.
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: them being idiots in love
a/n: This was suppesed to be posted tomorrow morning but I was actually excited to post it hehehe (if you recognize the character names mentioned, say from where 👀)
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“We need to talk” I whispered.
When my fingers got tired of playing and my back started to hurt, I put down the cover of the piano, taking a deep breath and looking down at the hand that was on my belly.
“I want to announce my retirement” I said, looking at him. “And I need your help.”
“My help? Why?” he sighed, his hand never leaving my belly.
“I…” I swallowed thickly. “I think we have to make a smart move, Charles… I can't hide all my life, you know it. I think that it's best, for me and for the baby, if she say…”
“That we are expecting?” he finished for me, making me nod slowly. “Dafne, are you serious?”
“It’s the best…”
He sighed and nodded, looking at my belly and his hand. He took a deep breath and got up from the chair he had previously grabbed, moving to place it next to the piano bench.
“And what do you want to say?” he sighed.
“I don’t know, I mumbled. “Lie? Say that we were together all this time? They will believe it; they always thought we were together…”
“And make it a PR stunt? Dafne…” he sighed, shaking his head. “It will only bring more problems.”
“I don’t know how to fix this, Charles!” I exclaimed, standing up and walking from side to side. “I don’t know, okay? I’m the one that is going to lose my career, you… I don’t know what else I can do.”
I sighed and sat on the table next to the couch, looking down at the floor, trying not to let the tears fall. Fucking hormones.
“Hey…” he sighed, walking closer to me, standing in front of me. “We are in this together. I told you I won’t run away, and I won’t let you run away. I’m here to stay, so… Tell me what to do, okay? I’ll take care of it.”
I nodded and sighed, wiping away the tears quickly and looking up at him.
“I just want to be happy, that’s all” I whispered.
“And I will help you to be” he sighed. “I promise I’ll try to make you happy.”
I sighed and nodded, looking down at the floor and giving up, resting my head against his chest. I didn’t care if he hugged me, if he touched me. I was so tired of fighting; keeping the walls high was so exhausting.
“Go to bed, yeah?” he whispered, placing his hand on my head. “Tomorrow we can talk about what we can do.”
“Do you need help unpacking your stuff?” I whispered.
“Go to bed” he sighed. “You must be tired.”
I stood up and looked at him, sighing. He smiled weakly, and I just walked upstairs, rubbing my belly softly. I looked back at him, watching how his eyes moved to the piano and how he walked towards it, sitting on the bench.
When I closed the door of my room behind me, I started to hear a melody, a melody I had never heard before. I opened the door a little, leaning on the doorframe with my hand on my belly, taking deep breaths when I felt more soft kicks.
I smiled weakly, closing my eyes and enjoying the music he was making, hearing the harmony of it and how it progressed, moving like a wave.
I sighed, closing the door and walking towards my bed, changing my clothes and applying the creams I have for my face.
Tomorrow we'll talk. And it makes me feel anxious. What should we do? Fake a relationship? Lie and tell everyone that we have been lovers for a long time? No one will believe us, not after I set up a lawsuit against him, not after he insulted me in public, and not after I made sure that I didn’t want him around me. Not after I brought Sebastian to the paddock, holding his hand like he was my lover and kissing him before the race.
How are we going to fix this? If only… if only he told me he was sick that day, we shouldn't have ended this low.
The smell of something burnt woke me up. Even with my door closed, I could smell it, prompting me to jump out of bed.
“What the hell?” I exclaimed, rushing downstairs and finding Charles in the kitchen.
“H-hey…”
“What the fuck?” I frowned. “What are you doing? Burning my kitchen? Are you insane?”
“Wow, wow, chill out” he frowned. “I only burned the pancake…”
“You set fire to it!” I gasped.
“I did not! It's black because I forgot it while I went to grab some apples from the tree you have outside!” he defended himself, raising his arms. “I’ll throw it away, don’t worry.”
I took a deep breath, looking at the charred pancake and at the apples he grabbed. I looked at him, frowning, and watched how he kept making pancakes, this time not burning them.
“You should put on more clothes” he said without looking at me. “I took care of you being sick last week, and I wouldn’t like to repeat it.”
“Wha-” I frowned, looking down and gasping when I noticed I was only wearing a long shirt. “Pervert!”
“Come on, it’s not the first time I’ve seen you naked. Remember that I had to put you in a cold bath because of the fever,” he brushed off. “Oh, and I woke up next to you in that hotel, naked.”
“Asshole” I groaned, blushing and going upstairs, closing the door behind me.
What. The. Hell?
I groaned, putting on some joggers and sighing when they didn’t fit well. I should start buying maternity clothes, but the worst part will be trying not to be seen.
I walked downstairs again, trying not to look at him and sitting on the chair in front of the table, sighing.
“You are sighing a lot. Everything alright?” he asked, placing a plate of warm pancakes in front of me, as well as a cup of coffee.
“My clothes don’t fit me anymore” I mumbled, pointing to the unbottoned jeans I decided to put.
“Do you want to use mine?” he asked, sitting in front of me. “Are you shy because of that?”
“Oh, shut up, I’m not shy!” I exclaimed. “It’s just…”
“Oh, you are annoyed because I reminded you that I saw you naked twice” he nodded. “It wasn’t a big deal, Dafne. Forget it.”
“Can you stop being an asshole?” I frowned. “You think you are funny, but you are actually making me feel so frustrated! Do you have any idea how much my body has changed? Do you have any idea how it feels trying to put on your clothes and watching how they barely fit?”
“Dafne…”
“No, Charles” I frowned. “I’m getting fat, that’s it!”
“No! You are getting more beautiful” he exclaimed, making me flinch and look at him, surprised. “For God’s sake, you are carrying a baby! A life! You are literally glowing! You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
I blushed, looking away, biting my lip. What’s gotten into him?
“Look” he sighed. “Borrow all the clothes you need, okay? Do you need joggers? Hoodies? I brought plenty of them. I want you to be comfortable.”
“O-okay” I mumbled, looking down at the plate.
My god, since when has he been this caring?
We ate breakfast in silence, the only sounds being the forks touching the plates, the soft music Charles had put on the speaker in the living room, and Athena’s soft meowing once she woke up.
“So… how do you want to do it?” he asked, breaking the silence.
“Do what?”
“You know, announce your pregnancy” he smiled weakly.
I swallowed thickly and sighed, resting my chin on the palm of my hand, looking at him.
“Does your family and friends know?” I asked, watching him smile weakly and shake his head. “Why?”
“I wanted to wait until you were okay with it” he sighed. “Until… well. Until we were okay.”
“W-well… if you want, we can tell them first” I whispered.
“And tell them what?” he sighed. “That it was an accident?”
“Y-yeah, right? Because it was” I nodded.
It was a big accident.
“Y-yeah” he sighed, looking away at the window. “And what about Fred and the team? What about the world?”
“I don’t know” I sighed. “I guess Fred has to advise us on that. Or the PR managers. After all, this is what they wanted, making us look like enemies to lovers.”
“And that’s what you want?” he sighed. “To look like that?”
“I don’t know what I want, Charles,” I sighed. “I just want this to end, to wake up from this stupid nightmare and be next to someone I love. That’s all.”
“And that can’t be me?” he frowned. “Dafne, you and I both know that we can be something. Just let your walls down, please?”
“You think it’s that easy?” I scoffed. “Just because I’m pregnant with your baby, you think you have the right to suggest we can be together for real? If you ever wanted that, then you should at least have acted that way.”
“And I did! So many fucking times!” he exclaimed. “Who do you think was the one that placed the things you liked in your room? Who do you think was the one that sent you flowers for your birthdays every year? What if I loved you in secret and I had to hide it just because I knew you hated me, that you wished I never crossed your path?”
“Well, then you hid it pretty well because you made me feel that you wished for my death” I mumbled.
“Don’t you dare say something like that ever again” he said, more serious. “Do you think it was easy for me when I found out that the one who crashed in Abu Dhabi was you? When Fred told me you were unconscious? I freaked out! I was replaying Jules’ accident in my mind over and over again, and the last thing I wanted was to see you like him and never tell you how I feel!”
I swallowed thickly and looked away, feeling tears burning in my eyes.
“Fucking hormones” I whispered, rubbing my eyes and wiping away the tears. “Don’t mention Jules…”
“I know” he sighed, standing up and walking towards me. “But… I lost so many people in my life, Dafne. I can’t lose you too.”
I sighed, looking up at him, watching how he cupped my cheek and wiped away the tears with his thumb. Somehow his touch made me go back in time, to those years when we were little kids, attached at the hip and longing to be next to each other.
“How can you be so sure this will work out?” I whispered.
“Because we have many things in common” he smiled weakly. “We have a past in common, we have a kid. I just… I want the best for our baby, Dafne. And being together is the best, not announcing your retirement or faking things.”
“Not yet” I whispered. “I just… I need time. I need to know how I feel about it.”
“Sure” he nodded. “Just… know that I’ll be here for you. This time, I’ll show you how I feel.”
How he feels. He loves me, as he said.
I never imagined I would be sitting in the passenger seat of his car. I never imagined myself wearing his clothes, either.
After our argument, we decided to go to Monaco to visit his mother, brothers, and friends. I can't help but feel completely anxious about what they will say, about how they will look at me.
“Everything will be okay,” he sighed. “We can stop whenever you want. I know it's going to be a long trip for you.”
“I know,” I sighed. “But I'm not nervous because of that.”
“What is it?” he frowned, glancing at me for a moment before looking back at the road. “You know our parents always wanted us together and were tired of our fights. My mom would love to know that we are now at least in a truce.”
“But…”
“I promise, Dafne. Everything will be okay,” he said. “And my friends? They will be happy, I swear. I'm sure they will welcome you into the group pretty quickly.”
I sighed and looked out of the window, rubbing my belly softly, nervously. His friends, the ones who always looked at me with disdain whenever I was around? What will they say, that I'm baby-trapping him? It looks like that.
“How can you be so sure about everything?” I mumbled. “You’re being delusional.”
“I'm not,” he sighed. “I just… I'm tired of fighting too. I want things to be calm between us for once. I prefer thinking everything will be okay rather than admitting that this is a big mess. Let me at least be the positive one.”
“Sure,” I sighed, biting my lip.
Silence again. Only the music from the speakers and the sound of the engine of his Ferrari.
“Boy or girl?” he asked suddenly.
“What?” I frowned.
“What do you want our baby to be?” he said. “Come on, we should at least make a bet.”
“Oh…” I sighed, rubbing my belly. “Well… a girl, I guess.”
“Yeah? Me too,” he nodded. “A little you would be nice, with blue eyes and curly hair.”
“Green eyes would look good too,” I said. “So she could have something from you.”
“Yeah?” he smiled. “And what about names?”
“Why are you doing this, Charles?” I sighed.
“Come on, we have to be prepared,” he sighed. “I just… I'm trying, okay? I'm trying to get used to this. To think about being a father, about you being the mother of my baby. About how to take care of you and make it easier for you.”
“You woke up very optimistic this morning,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Manon or Sophie if it's a girl and Dorian or Enzo if it's a boy.”
“Mhm, good names,” he nodded. “Why? Are those special?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Characters I like and, well, Enzo because of Ferrari…”
“Oh, nice,” he smiled. “I was thinking about naming our baby after Jules…”
“Maybe as a second name,” I said.
“Yeah,” he sighed. “I just… I feel it's a way of remembering him. Of making a tribute to him.”
“I know,” I nodded. “You know… Erica and he dated for a while.”
“I knew it!” he gasped.
“It was pretty obvious,” I smiled weakly. “I caught them once doing it. I didn’t know he came home, and I just wanted to grab something from Erica's closet.”
“Oh no,” he laughed.
“Oh yes,” I sighed. “I saw his ass.”
“Ew!” he laughed.
I took a deep breath and smiled weakly, rubbing my belly again. I saw his hand resting on the console of the car, moving his fingers to the beat of the music. Somehow, my hand moved slowly, holding his hand and placing it on my belly. I looked at him and saw him smile, taking a deep, shaky breath, and sighing.
“When can we know the gender?” he asked.
“No idea,” I sighed. “I… I didn’t go to a doctor yet.”
“Then we'll have to fix it,” he nodded.
“Charles…” I sighed.
“You have to go to the doctor, Dafne,” he sighed. “Just for check-ups, to make sure the baby is healthy.”
“But where? I just don't want to be recognized,” I sighed.
“What if we do it the traditional way?” he smiled weakly. “The village near the house has a medical center. We can call and ask to bring a midwife for check-ups. I think there won't be a problem.”
“You'll be away most of the time,” I sighed.
He sighed and nodded, rubbing his thumb over the material of the hoodie.
After a few more hours, we were finally arriving in Monaco, and my anxiety grew with every kilometer we covered. Charles called his mom just to announce that he was coming to her house, not even mentioning that I was coming along.
“Take deep breaths,” Charles said, patting my belly softly, rubbing it.
“I… I think you should take your hand away,” I mumbled. “J-Just in case someone takes a picture.”
“Oh, sure.”
I sighed, longing for his touch and wanting to keep his hand there always, suddenly feeling the need to hide my belly and placing my hands in the pocket of the hoodie.
“So… we are going to tell her the truth,” Charles nodded. “Wild night and then we…”
“Yeah,” I nodded.
“You sure?” he sighed.
“I think it's the smartest thing,” I mumbled. “It's what our families wanted.”
He parked the car near his mom's house, and before I could get out, he helped me, holding my hand and pulling me towards him. I flinched softly when his face was right in front of mine, making me look away and step back.
“Let's go,” he sighed, letting go of my hand and going to the front door, opening it with the spare key he has. “Maman, I'm home!”
“Oh, Charles, you came earlier than I thought!” she said from another room, walking to the hall.
“Yeah,” he smiled weakly, looking at me.
“Oh, Dafne!” she gasped when she saw me. “I didn't expect you here… with him.”
“Surprise…” I smiled weakly, walking toward her and kissing her cheeks, flinching when she hugged me and pressed my stomach against her.
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Charles POV, start of the redemption arc!, flashbacks are in italics
a/n: I'm back!!! I have to say that the past weekend didn't go how it was planned, but at least I had so much fun...
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“Dafne!”
I flinched when I heard her slamming the front door, making me swallow thickly while I looked at the clock hanging in the wall of the kitchen.
Two in the morning.
It's two in the morning and she left to God knows where, with winter weather outside and with clothes that couldn't keep her warm.
“Fuck, fuck!”
I ran upstairs to grab warm clothes for myself and then to her room to grab something warmer. Her cat was laying on her bed, completely unaware of what was happening. But as I walked in and opened the wardrobe to find a coat and a scarf, I felt the little head rubbing my leg.
“I'll bring her back” I mumble looking down at the cat, swallowing thickly when it looked at me with those big blue eyes.
I rushed downstairs, grabbing the keys of the house and searching the keys of my car in the pockets of my coat.
“Come on, think…” I spoke to myself, getting in the car and turning the engine on. “Think, think, think…”
I groan, driving through the road, away from the house, trying to remember somewhere she could go to be alone.
It was a hot summer. My brothers and I went to the Morelli’s grandmother villa in Tuscany while our parents had to stay at home for work. That year I lost the championship of karting because of her and somehow I felt frustrated.
I needed to show her that I was better. I don't care if she won against me.
“Let's see who gets to the top first” I smirked looking at her pointing at the top of the tree. “The first that arrives is the winner”
“It's dangerous!” she gasped.
“So? Are you that scary?” I scoffed, looking at how she was looking between me and the tree. “Come on, are you a cry baby?”
“Shut up!” she groaned, stepping closer to the tree and starting to climb it.
I watched her, feeling a strange mix of anticipation and something else I couldn't quite name. The tree was more challenging than it looked, with slippery bark and breakable branches.
About halfway up, she grabbed a thorny branch and cried out, losing her grip. I watched in horror as she fell to the ground, gasping when I saw her falling on her ankle.
She kneeled on the ground, pressing her hand against her mouth, trying to not let out sobs. I swallowed thickly, taking slow steps towards her, but before I could say her name, she stood up and pushed me to the ground, running away from me.
“Dafne, wait!” I called her, but she didn't stop.
I felt guilt twist in my stomach. I hadn't meant for her to get hurt. Panic set in as I realized I had lost sight of her. The woods were dense and disorienting, but somehow I knew where she would go. There was a little house by the river, a place we both knew well but never acknowledged to each other.
I made my way to the house and found her at the edge of the river, with her foot on the water. She had stopped crying, but the pain was evident on her face. She didn't see me watching her from behind a tree, and I took a moment to gather myself. Seeing her hurt made something tighten in my chest, a feeling I wasn't used to.
"Dafne," I said softly, hoping not to startle her. “I’m really sorry. Can I help?”
“Go away” she mumbled, not looking at me. “I don't want to see you”
I sighed and sat on the ground with my back against the tree, keeping an eye on her. What if her ankle gets more swollen? I should do something, right? It's my fault she got injured. What if it gets worse?
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over everything, I waited. Finally, she looked back at me, searching me with her eyes. Her face was a mixture of defiance and pain, but she didn’t look as angry as I had feared.
“I think it's broken” she mumbled, looking at her hand. “It's your fault”
“I know” I nodded, standing up and walking towards her, kneeling in front of her. “Let's go home”
I clenched my jaw, holding tight that memory and praying that she went there. I tried to remember the way towards that river, driving the car through the moody roads and looking around to try to catch a glance of her.
When I found the tree that was near the river I swallowed thickly, stopping the car and grabbing my phone to turn on the light, getting out of the car. If she's not there I don't know what I would do.
“Dafne?” I called her, trying to make my eyes get used to the dark, moving my phone around.
I sighed in relief when I saw her figure sitting on the ground next to a tree, with the blanket she was wearing wrapped around her. But that didn't stop her from sniffling because of the cold night.
“Go away”
I smiled weakly, closing my eyes and shaking my head. It's happening exactly like the last time I saw her here.
“I won't” I sighed, going back to the car and grabbing her coat and scarf. “And get used to it”
“Why?” she mumbled. “Just, why? Why now? Why are you caring now?”
“I always cared, Dafne” I sighed, wrapping the scarf around her neck and putting the coat on her shoulders. “But I tried my best for you to not see it”
“Well, you were damn good at it” she sighed, looking away from me.
“Can we please fix this?” I sighed sitting next to her. “Not only for us… But for our families and our baby”
“I never wanted this, Charles” she whispered. “It's so unfair. If only…”
“I was sick” I interrupted her.
“What?”
“The summer we met” I sighed. “The first time you told me you hated me… I was sick. I didn't throw up because you kissed me. I had a terrible stomach ache and it just happened…”
She sighed and rested her head on the trunk of the tree, taking a deep breath. Her hands were on her belly, protecting the little baby she's carrying. Our baby, my baby.
“But you just ran away…” I sighed. “You always run away when things get complicated”
“I guess it's easier than facing the problems” she sighed.
“That's so cowardly coming from you” I said.
She looked at me frowning, somehow moving away from me before I grabbed her arm. I shook my head and looked at her.
“This time I won't let you run away” I said. “Neither let you push me away, like you did with Sebastian”
“It was the best for him” she mumbled looking away, moving her arm away from my grasp. “I couldn't give him what he wanted”
“And what did he want? To settle down?” I frowned, clenching my jaw.
“Exactly” she laughed sadly. “When the doctor told us I was pregnant, he started talking about buying a house and taking care of this child. He thought it was his baby. Even if I was so happy with him, I couldn't lie to him, acting like it was his kid. It wouldn't be fair to him”
“He was the one that made me understand my feelings” I sighed, smiling weakly. “He was the one that made me realize that even if I'm twenty seven years old I still act like a kid around you, trying to get your attention”
She didn't say anything, just hugged herself tighter. I wish she would let me hold her. I wish we could fix our problems. I wish, I wish, I wish…
“One chance” she whispered. “I’ll give you only one chance. If you fuck up, I want you away from me and the baby. I don't care if it's yours, if you hurt me again I'll make sure you don't even know the name. I'm so tired of fighting”
My breath hitched in my throat, surprised by her decision. I simply nodded, sighing with relief.
“Let's go home” I whispered, getting up and offering her my hand to help her to get up.
When I felt her hand on mine I took a deep breath, pulling her to me and following her movements with my eyes. She was still protecting her belly with a hand, like she wanted to keep it for her, to protect her secret.
“C-can I?” I whisper looking at her stomach.
She took a deep breath and a step back, shaking her head slowly.
“Not yet…” she mumbled. “I don't trust you, yet”
I nodded, hurt. But I understood. I have to fix more than I thought, but I won't give up.
The next morning I woke up with her sneezes and a cold nose poking my cheek.
I sighed, opening my eyes slowly to find her cat's face right in front of mine. I moved slowly, looking at the cat. It started purring and meowing, somehow nervously.
“What happened?” I sighed, yawning.
I saw the white cat jump out of the bed and walk out of the room, then coming back looking at me. I sighed, grabbing a hoodie and putting it on while I followed the cat towards Dafne's room.
“What…?” I frowned.
I opened the door,.sighing when I saw her there sleeping. I bite my lip, looking at her. She really is wonderful, and somehow now, knowing that she's pregnant, looks even more beautiful than before.
I heard her groaning and sneezing again, making me frown and take a step closer to her bed.
“Hey, are you okay?” I whisper, sitting on the edge of her bed.
“Sshh…” she groaned.
I swallowed thickly, moving my hand to press it on her forehead and gasping when I felt it warm.
“You are burning up” I whispered, feeling immediately worried.
She groaned, barely opening her eyes and not caring to move my had away from her forehead.
“I'm fine” she mumbled, but I could tell she wasn't.
“Stay here, okay?” I sighed, getting up from the bed and rubbing her cat's head, smiling at it. “I'll take care of you”
She tried to wave me off, but I was determined. I stood up and headed to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and soaking it in cold water. When I returned, I gently placed it on her forehead, removing the hair wet from the sweat. She flinched at the touch but didn’t push me away, sighing with relief the moment she felt the cold against her skin.
“I’ll make you some tea” I said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Just rest.”
She nodded slowly, coughing and sniffling softly. Her cat curled into her side, somehow trying to give her some warmth.
I went downstairs to the kitchen to make her something for breakfast. I know she likes having English tea around, since she's half English, so maybe I could find some of it in the cupboards.
“Bingo” I smiled, finding a few boxes of tea.
I sighed, grabbing the first one I found and boiled some water while I grabbed some crackers for her. I grabbed my phone, searched about the medicines she can take and searching them on the bathroom.
“I’m back” I said softly, walking inside of her room and placing the plate and a mug on the nightstand.
“Did you make tea?” she whispered. “Thank you…”
“You have to stay hydrated” I sighed, looking at the screen of my phone. “And I have to change the cloth of your forehead a few more times. And forget about that blanket, you need to make the fever go down”
“Wow, what are you now, my doctor?” she mumbled, and somehow I felt relieved noticing that her humor was still there even if she was sick.
“I want you to be okay, as well” I sighed. “Did you go to the doctor to do check ups of the pregnancy?”
“No” she groaned.
I sighed and nodded, grabbing my phone. The internet said she should go soon to do the checkups and to see how the baby is growing.
“Do you want me to call? I can go to the village and see if I can find a doctor” I said but she interrupted me with a groan.
“Can you please shut up? Your voice is giving me a headache” she exclaimed.
I sighed and nodded, looking away, watching her cat laying next to her with the head on her belly.
I wish she could let me touch her. But I have to accept that maybe that will never happen.
I stayed silent for a moment, letting her words sink in. I wanted to help, but I knew pushing her too much right now wouldn't do any good. I needed to show her that I could be there for her, even if it meant giving her space.
"Okay, I'll be quiet" I whispered, grabbing the washcloth from her forehead to wet it again in the bathroom.
She sighed, closing her eyes as I placed the cool cloth back on her skin, flinching slightly. Her body relaxed quickly and her lips opened a little leaving a long relieved sigh.
"Try to drink some tea" I murmured softly, guiding the mug to her lips. She took a few sips, her expression softening slightly. "And eat some crackers. It'll help"
“You made my favorite” she gasped softly, looking at the mug, taking another sip of it and humming as she swallowed it.
“I guessed it right, then” I nodded, smiling. “I’ll go later to the village to buy some more”
“You can’t, those are only in the Twinings store in London” she sighed. “Believe me, I tried to find them everywhere I go”
“Noted” I nodded.
She nodded weakly, nibbling on a cracker before settling back into the pillows. I watched her, feeling a strange mix of relief and anxiety. I wanted to take care of her, to make things right, but I knew it would take time.
As the morning wore on, I stayed by her side, changing the washcloth and making sure she drank enough fluids. I grabbed my laptop and earphones and watched something to distract myself while she slept. Her cat, sensing the tension, curled up beside her, offering its silent support.
"I never expected you to be here" she mumbled at one point, her voice barely above a whisper, making me stop the movie I was watching. "Not after everything”
"I never expected it either," I admitted, looking into her tired eyes. "At first I went to your parents’ house to see if you were there, but Erica told me you were here… I guess I didn’t expect you to be…”
“Pregnant?” she sighed.
“Y-yeah” I sighed. “But I’ll stay. I don’t care how many times you’ll try to push me away. I’ll stay”
She didn't respond, but she didn't push me away either. That was progress, I told myself. Small steps
Later in the afternoon, Dafne’s fever had come down slightly, but she still looked exhausted. I tried to keep the atmosphere light, occasionally cracking a joke or two, though they were met with weak smiles or groans. Her cat, a constant presence by her side, provided her comfort, and I found myself grateful for the animal.
"Do you need anything else?" I asked softly, placing a fresh washcloth on her forehead.
"No... just stay" she mumbled, her voice trailing off. “Until I sleep again”
My heart ached at her vulnerability. This was a side of her I never saw, and it made me realize just how much pain I gave her, how little I know her. I nodded, even though her eyes were closed, and settled on the empty side of her bed.
Time seemed to blur. I must have dozed off at some point because when I opened my eyes, the room was darker, the only light coming from the late afternoon sun filtering through the curtains. Dafne was still asleep, her breathing more even now. Her cat was curled up next to her face, purring softly.
I stood up, stretching my back and neck, and quietly made my way to the kitchen. I needed to prepare something for her to eat when she woke up, some soup would help her feel better.
As I searched through the counter and fridge, I found some ingredients to make a simple chicken soup. The familiar actions of chopping vegetables and filling the pot with water gave me a strange sense of peace, a small sense of normalcy after today.
As the soup cooked, I found myself lost in thought. How had we gotten here? Dafne and I had always had a complicated relationship, full of competition and unspoken emotions, hate and rivalry. How could I let something like this happen? I went too far. But now I can’t back up, I have to be here for her and our baby.
I glanced at my phone, considering calling my mother and brothers to update them, but decided against it. This was something Dafne and I needed to figure out first. Besides, I didn’t want to overwhelm her with any more information or expectations than she was already dealing with.
When the soup was ready, I poured some into a bowl and carried it upstairs. Dafne was awake, sitting up in bed and looking a bit more alert.
"Hey," I said softly, entering the room. "I made you some soup"
"You cooked?" she asked surprised, looking at me.
“Don’t act so shocked, I can handle the basic meals” I chuckled softly. “Plus, this is the recipe your grandma taught all of us”
“Oh… Thank you, Charles” she smiled faintly. This is the first time I’d seen her smile at me.
I helped her sit up more comfortably, placing more pillows on her back, and handed her the bowl. She took a tentative sip, then another, her expression softening and humming softly with her eyes closed.
“Just like nonna’s” she whispered.
We sat in silence for a while, her eating slowly and me just being there, present in the moment. It was a small step, but it felt significant.
"Dafne," I began after a while. "I know things are complicated, and we've both made mistakes in the past. But I want to be here for you and the baby. I want to make things right. I want us to begin again"
She looked at me, her eyes searching mine for sincerity. I saw the doubt in her blue eyes, the internal battle she had in her mind.
"I want to believe you, Charles. I really do. But it’s going to take time…” she mumbled, looking down at her growing belly. “You caused me so much pain, and a simple gesture like taking care of me while being sick won’t make me forget it…”
"I understand," I nodded, my voice steady "But I'm not going anywhere. I’ll prove to you that I can change, That… That I’m that kid you met in Greece, the one you kissed"
As she finished the soup and settled back into bed, I felt a tentative hope.
Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way through this together. It wouldn’t be easy, but for the first time in a long while, I felt like we had a chance.
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: Charles POV, Sebastian's last appearence (😭)
a/n: Hello there!!! I hope everyone is doing fine! Here's the new chapter!! Charles redemption arc starts now
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This race was crucial, not just for me but for the entire team. Securing a podium finish was crucial to keep the second place in the Constructors' Championship. And personally, I needed the win to keep my second position in the Driver's Championship, just 25 points shy.
“Charles, red flag. Red flag.”
The urgency in the voice over the radio cut through my focus like a knife. I frowned, scanning the screens for any hint of what happened, but they remained following the cars that moved in the track.
“What's going on?” I asked, my voice filled with anxiety.
“There's been a crash. Return to the pitlane”
A crash. My heart sank. Who was involved? Why weren't they showing anything on the screens?
“Who crashed?” I asked worriedly, needing to know more.
Silence. The unknown kept me tense as I guided the car back into the pitlane, parking it with a heavy heart. Stepping out, I scanned the pitlane, watching how a chaotic movement started as soon as the rest of the cars were parked, with medics and emergency vehicles going to the track where the incident happened. The air was thick with tension.
“Did you see what happened?” I asked Pierre when I saw him walk towards me.
“Only caught a glimpse of Ocon by the side. Looks like he caused the crash” Pierre sighed, eyes scanning the monitors.
“But who else was involved?” My mind raced, connecting the dots.
Dafne’s Ferrari wasn't in the pitlane.
“Fuck” I muttered, looking at the rest of the cars parked and then at her side of the garage.
Inside, the crew was a crowd of constant activity. Engineers screaming orders, mechanics hurried back and forth between the cars, faces drained of color as they glued their eyes to the screens. Even that guy Dafne had brought along was there, looking like he just saw a ghost.
“What's the situation?” I demanded from Dafne's engineer, my voice strained.
“She's trapped in the barriers” he replied, his attention divided between tasks and his attempts to reach her on the radio.
“How could you let her race? She was ill!” I snapped, the worry for her well-being bubbling into anger. “If I saw it I'm sure you did too! She was pale and this morning she threw up”
“This isn't the first time she got in the car sick” he frowned, defending her. “Not that you care”
I clenched my jaw, shaking my head in frustration, then turned to Fred. His expression said everything before he even spoke a word.
“She's unconscious” he murmured, and my heart sank further. “Not answering”
Unconscious. The word echoed in my mind like a drumbeat. If only they had known she wasn't at her best today. If only...
I forced myself to look away, back towards my own car, catching sight of that guy again. There was something familiar about him. Maybe I'd seen him in photos with Dafne.
Focus, Charles. Focus on the race. For the team.
I tried to clear my mind as the race resumed, pushing aside the bundle of worry and what-ifs that threatened to overwhelm me. Keep a cool head. Execute perfectly. Dafne’s face kept intruding, but I ordered myself to stay focused.
Dafne... Please, be okay. You're strong. You'll pull through.
The race became a blur of speed and strategy, the laps melting into each other until suddenly it was over. I climbed out of my car almost in a daze after I parked behind the signal with the big 2, letting myself be guided towards the podium, where trophies and authorities awaited. But my mind was elsewhere.
“How's Dafne?” I asked Fred, joining the team in the pit lane. “Any news? Is she awake?”
“Her family went with her to the hospital,” Fred's voice was heavy with concern. “She's still unconscious. They're running tests.”
I swallowed hard, a lump forming in my throat. The podium awaited, cameras poised to capture the moment of triumph. But there would be no champagne celebration today.
“I won't spray the champagne,” I muttered, setting the bottle aside.
Lando and Max exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of sympathy and concern.
“Is it about Dafne?” Lando asked quietly, his hand covering his mouth.
“She's still unconscious,” I replied, the weight of worry evident in my voice.
They nodded in understanding, standing silently by my side as we faced the cameras. No cheers, no smiles.
Fuck the championship. I need her to be okay.
Every interviewer asked about her. They needed to know about her.
“I know as much as you do” I always answered, nodding and moving to the next interviewer.
When I finished the interviews, I went straight to the hospitality area, feeling a chill as soon as I walked in. No one was talking. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on the floor. Her family wasn’t there, and their things were missing from their usual spot during races.
I swallowed thickly, feeling the heavy atmosphere and the weight in my heart. My lips formed a thin line as I nodded to those who came over to pat my back.
“We’ll try again next year” one of my engineers said, smiling weakly. “This wasn’t the race we wanted.”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
I went to my room, sitting on the bed and staring at the wall in front of me. An internal battle raged in my mind, but a knock at the door brought me back to reality.
“Hey”
My mom’s voice made me look up. Her sad smile grew closer as she sat next to me, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and leaning on me.
“Do you know anything about her? Did her family call you?” I mumbled, closing my eyes and resting my head against hers.
“She’s still asleep” she sighed. “Several concussions and her wrist might be broken…”
“Shit…” I sighed. “She wasn’t focused on this race. I saw it; she was sick and-”
“Look, Charles” she interrupted, sighing. “Dafne might be a girl, but she’s stronger than any man on the grid. If some of you had a cold or another illness, you’d blame your poor performance on being sick.”
“Mom-”
“No, listen” she insisted. “She’s better than you, and you have to accept that. If you ever suffered the pain she does every month, you wouldn’t drive. And yet, there she is, getting on podiums and earning points.”
“I know…” I sighed. “I know I crossed the line with her, okay? I just want to fix everything. You have no idea how much I regret what I said about her.”
“I think it’s a little late for that, Charles” she said, looking at me. “You had your whole life to fix things…”
I clenched my jaw and looked away, feeling her words hit me like a cold shower.
All my life, I despised Dafne because of the stupid jealousy I felt. Jealousy that made me say awful things and insinuate lies. Jealousy that never let me stop and give her space.
“I have to see her” I whispered, standing up and packing my things into my backpack.
“Charles…”
“No, mom” I frowned. “It’s all my fault, you’re right. I’ve been an idiot, and I know she reported me. I know she doesn’t want to see me, but I need to know if she’s okay.”
She sighed and nodded, smiling weakly. I felt her eyes on me as I tidied the room and slung my backpack over my shoulder.
“I’ll see you at home, okay?” I sighed, hugging her. “I’ll text you once I know if she’s awake.”
“Just… don’t make things worse.”
I smiled weakly and kissed her cheek before walking out of the room. I looked at her room; it wasn’t empty. Her things were still there, her backpack and clothes neatly folded on the bed. I should probably take them to her, right? Maybe her family rushed to the hospital and forgot her things.
I swallowed thickly as I walked into her room, overwhelmed by her perfume. The same perfume she always wore, the one that lingered in my nose and on my clothes after that night in Monza. I sighed, grabbing her backpack and packing her clothes, laptop, and phone. When I picked up her phone, I saw a picture of her and that guy on the lock screen, holding a cat between them.
I clenched my jaw, put the phone in the backpack, and looked at the picture of her first win on the wall.
“I miss that brown hair” I whispered, looking at her. “I miss your crown.”
I smiled weakly and looked down, slinging her backpack over my arm.
When I walked out of the hospitality, I felt everyone taking pictures and asking about Dafne, snapping shots of her backpack hanging from my arm. I clenched my jaw and walked toward the paddock exit and my car.
Once inside, I put her backpack on the passenger seat and took a deep breath. Her perfume filled the car, bringing back memories of September.
Her skin. Her taste. Her smell. Her touch. Her lips.
“No, no” I groaned, shaking my head to dispel the thoughts. “Idiot.”
I turned on the engine, typed the hospital address into my phone, and drove.
My mind ran through every possible scenario, good and bad. I tried to stay positive, hoping she’d already be awake. Maybe she’d be strong enough to yell at me. I would need it.
When I parked the car, I grabbed my phone and searched for Erica’s number, texting her.
Charles: What’s her room number?
Erica: What?
Charles: Dafne’s room in the hospital.
Erica: Are you for real? What are you going to do?
Charles: Just drop off her backpack. You left it in her room.
Erica: 5.17
Erica: Behave yourself. If she’s awake, she won’t want to see you.
I sighed, ran my fingers through my hair, took a deep breath, and grabbed her backpack before getting out of the car.
I ignored the reporters outside the hospital, walked straight to the elevators, and pressed the button for the fifth floor. I got out and found her room, frowning when I saw that guy standing in front of the door.
I clenched my jaw and approached, but as I reached for the handle, he stopped me.
“I think you’re the last person she wants to see right now” he said, making me turn around slowly.
“Excuse me? And who are you?” I frowned. “I just came to bring her backpack.”
“Then give it to me and leave” he said, frowning.
“You didn’t answer my question” I insisted.
“Who I am to Dafne is none of your concern. You’ve done enough damage, Charles” he said. “You should forget her.”
“Is she awake?” I frowned.
“She is. That’s why I said you’re the last person she wants to see right now” he groaned.
I clenched my jaw and placed the backpack on the seat next to him, frowning as I looked back at the door. She’s awake. Good.
“Just… why?” he asked, making me frown.
“What?”
“Why were you so cruel to her? She never did anything to deserve your hate. Do you know how badly you made her look? How many threats she’s received because you got drunk and said all those disgusting things?” he said, making me swallow thickly and look away. “You acted like a kid wanting to be the center of attention. Once the spotlight was off you, you did something stupid to get it back.”
Every word felt like a stab. But I had to stay silent and take it because deep down, I knew I deserved it.
“She locked herself in her office to read all the comments, you know?” he sighed. “I had to listen to her cry while she read everything because she didn't let me walk in”
“You think I don’t know?” I interrupted him. “I regret every word I said. I regret everything I did. But it’s too late to fix things, isn’t it? She hates my guts. She doesn’t want to see me ever again; she made that clear with the lawsuit.”
“And yet you came” he said. “You packed her things and brought them here, knowing you had zero chances of giving them to her.”
I took a deep breath and sighed, looking away.
“If she’s awake, why aren’t you inside?” I asked. “I thought you two were dating.”
“We never did,” he said, with a sad smile. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure” I sighed.
“You don’t hate her, do you?” he asked. “I noticed the way you looked at us during the weekend. I saw how you looked at her sadly, how you cared for her. I even noticed you grabbing the peaches near her in the fruit basket at the restaurant.”
“She’s allergic to the skin of peaches” I mumbled.
“And I saw you leave her favorite chocolate on her bed” he said. “You don’t hate her.”
“It’s stupid” I sighed, sitting next to him. “I guess you’re right. I am still a kid wanting the Ferrari spotlight. I want the attention…”
“Her attention” he interrupted. “But that never worked, did it?”
I looked at him and sighed, closing my eyes.
Her attention… Maybe.
“I think you should give her time,” he whispered. “Right now, she received some news she didn’t like. I think you should wait, but not too long. Give her time to recover. After all, you two will have to talk at some point”
I sighed and nodded, looking at the door and swallowing thickly. Some news… bad ones? Is she injured? Can’t she race? What is it?
“She’s okay, I promise” he smiled weakly.
I looked at him and smiled weakly, nodding. I stood up and looked at the door one last time before walking away.
Two weeks have passed since that race.
Two weeks full of interviews, sponsor events, and photoshoots. Of holding a trophy that is the proof of how I lost the second position in the championship. Of smiling fakely when all I wanted to do was stay out of the cameras.
Two weeks of not knowing anything about Dafne. She didn't come to the interviews, nor the events, not even to the dinner.
“Did Dafne call?” I asked Fred while I looked at the empty seat where she was supposed to be sitting, and he only shrugged and shook his head.
“Last time I saw her was back in Abu Dhabi” he said. “I visited her in the hospital. She said that she needed time to recover, that's all.”
After that dinner, I tried to reach her. But every time I grabbed my phone and pressed her contact name, I hesitated, remembering the words of the man who I thought was her boyfriend.
Time. She needs time. She needs to recover. We have things to talk about.
So I waited. I waited until she called me. Until she was ready.
But I was growing impatient. December had already ended, and she hadn't called yet. Everyone at the factory was worried about her absence. And what really set off my alarms was hearing Fred talk about getting another driver in her seat.
So I did what I thought was the most normal thing. I went to her parents' house.
“What are you doing here?” I flinched when I heard her voice. Erica was there, looking at me leaning on the door frame. “I think no one invited you.”
“I just need to know if she's okay, Erica…” I sighed.
“She’s not” she frowned. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Of-”
“Yes, Erica! I know what I have done!” I exclaimed. “Why are you acting like this with me? I thought we were friends…”
“Friends? I stopped being your friend the moment I saw my sister having a panic attack because your fans came to attack her” she frowned.
“I need to see her, Erica. Please” I begged.
She looked at me, scanning me with her green eyes. I felt small again, being intimidated by her judging eyes. It reminded me of when I was a kid and she was always hanging out with my older brother and Jules. She always used to sit next to Jules, scanning the crowd with her eyes before talking, making an analysis of everyone.
“She was happy with Sebastian” she frowned. “She was finally happy, smiling. And then you…”
“I, what?” I frowned. “What else have I done, Erica? Tell me!”
“I… I can’t tell you” she sighed.
“God damn it! Please!” I groaned, frustrated.
“Do you remember where the house of our nonna is?” she said suddenly.
“The one where Jules and you used to play as Juliet and Romeo on the balcony?” I said, remembering those summer days.
“Y-yeah” she said, looking away. “That one.”
“She’s there?” I asked, confused. “She lives there?”
“She went there… to hide” she sighed.
“Hide?”
“Just… Charles” she sighed, taking a deep breath. “You’ll understand, okay? And please… Please, I beg you. Don’t hurt my sister ever again. If she tells you, please don’t run away. Stay with her, even if she pushes you away. Don’t give up.”
“I won’t run away” I said, swallowing thickly. “Not again. I won’t give up on her.”
“Good. Because she’ll need you” she nodded.
I swallowed thickly and walked towards her, going up the four stairs and hugging her. She tensed at first, but then hugged me immediately.
“I’m sorry… For everything I did” I whispered. “For every pain I caused. I don’t deserve your help…”
“Just promise you won’t hurt her ever again. Because if you do, I’ll be the first to-”
“I promise, I promise” I sighed, hugging her tighter.
I went back to the car, smiling weakly at Erica and driving away, trying to remember the way to that house in the middle of nowhere in Tuscany.
Memories came back to me. Our families spending the summer in that house, hiding in the bushes, running and racing to see who could get to the other side of the road first, the sunsets, our parents laughing in the backyard while the kids stayed in our rooms, floating in the river on hot days. Those days, even if Dafne and I were distant, were the best days of my life.
But being here in January is a completely different thing. It smells different; it’s not the warm weather anymore. When you drive through the road, you can smell the wood from the fireplaces keeping the houses warm. There’s no longer that smell of the wine and the herbs.
The house made of stone with wood shutters grew bigger as I approached it, making my heart beat faster with anxiety.
I parked the car on the side of the fence, taking a deep breath when I saw a car I guessed was the one she used to come here. I swallowed thickly, opening the gate and walking inside the property, looking at the house that holds many memories of my childhood.
I heard soft music from the backyard, so I guessed that Dafne was there. I walked towards it, opening the little metal door and closing my eyes when it made noise.
“Erica, you came-”
I swallowed thickly, looking at her. She was sitting on a chair, with a book in one of her hands, and the other hand… on top of her stomach.
“Charles” she mumbled.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. A pregnant belly.
“You are pregnant” I whispered.
That’s why she was hiding? Because she’s pregnant?
“How far?” I asked without thinking.
“Charles, I-”
“How far, Dafne? Is it…”
“Get out of here” she frowned, swallowing thickly and getting up. “You have no right to be here.”
“How far are you?” I insisted, watching her walk towards me.
“Four months, okay? Are you happy?” she groaned. “You are going to be a dad, asshole. Congratulations, you got rid of your worst enemy by knocking her up.”
childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers
Warnings: angst, two idiots fighting again
a/n: Hiii, so, I had a little writers block but it's completly fiiinee.... I hope you guys llike this chapter! This week maybe you won't have a new chapter because this weekend I have a competition, so if you want to suggest things or even sending me some love I would appreciate it so much!
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Tuscany was a place that brought me inner peace, childhood memories, a sense of safety.
It reminds me of the summers I spent with my grandma, sneaking into the kitchen to watch her make homemade pasta and pizza. It reminds me of being free and knowing that here I am my own person, that I can be myself and not a racing driver.
When my grandma passed away, she left this house for my sisters and I, leaving my mother with other properties, knowing how much this house meant for us and how many memories this place holds. Here we had first kisses, first love… Every inch of this house has our signature with small details: a wall piano where I used to sit with my dad to play it, a pottery jar my sister Soleil made, a painting made by my sister.
This house is my place, my safe space, my sanctuary.
And yet there he is, stepping into my space when no one asked him to be here, turning my life upside down as always with his selfishness.
“You have to leave” I said firmly, placing a protective hand over my belly.
“I want to talk, Dafne… please” he sighed, not tearing his eyes away from my swollen belly, making me turn around and walk towards the couch I occupied before he showed up.
“There's nothing to talk about, Charles” I sighed. “You've done enough. Leave me alone”
“I won't” he frowned, following me, making me hug myself. “I won't leave. Not this time-”
“Can't you see that the only thing you do is ruining my life?” I snapped, turning around to face him. “Look at what you have done! This is your fault!”
“I know!” he exclaimed, making me clench my jaw. “I know! And I'm so sorry!”
“Saying sorry won't fix this” I frowned, pointing at my belly. “Saying sorry won't make me have my career back. Saying sorry won't make me hate you less”
He clenched his jaw, but never looked away. He stayed where he was, looking at me all the time, following me with his eyes.
“I'm not leaving until you hear me” he frowned, making me groan while I sat on the chair.
“You think you can just show up here and try to be in my life after everything you did? After the panic attacks, the harassment, the constant media hounding?” I frowned. “You made me lose a man I really wanted to be with. Sebastian is more man than you, he tried to put back the broken pieces of my heart after the disaster you made. And then I had to see his heart breaker when I told him that this baby wasn't his but yours. You have an idea of how much that hurts?”
His eyes filled with regret as he clenched his jaw, but I couldn't let myself feel sorry for him. I have to be strong. For me. And for this baby.
“I know I've made mistakes” he sighed, and before he talked again he took a few deep breaths closing his eyes. “But I'm here to make things right. I came to talk things and fix this”
“You can't fix this” I said, pointing between us, fighting the tears. “You can't just show up and expect things to be okay. It's too late”
“Please Dafne…” he begged, taking a few steps closer. “I'm not asking for forgiveness right now, I just… Just give me the chance to be here, for you. For our baby”
“Our baby” I repeated bitterly. “This isn't about you, Charles! The world doesn't turn around you! This time is about me and what I need. And what I need right now is to have you away from me”
He stayed silent, with his eyes moving from my belly to my eyes. For a moment, I thought he really was going to leave. I saw him close his eyes slowly and take a deep breath, I saw that tic he has in his jaw whenever he's nervous. For a few seconds I felt relieved, thinking he was going to turn around and walk out of the backyard.
“I'm not leaving” he said, opening his eyes again. “I'm going to stay until you believe that I mean what I said. Until you decide to fix things and speak”
“You are so stubborn!” I exclaimed, frustrated. “Why can't you just respect my wishes?”
“Because I care about you, okay?” he exclaimed back, raising up his arms. “Why do you think I came here? I waited patiently until you came back to the factory, but you never came. I was going crazy because you weren't giving signals if you were alive or not. You didn't even make a statement about you retiring!”
“Do you think that's easy?” I mumbled. “Why do you think I came here? Why do you think I didn't say anything? Because this is hard for me, Charles! You have an idea how embarrassing it is for me to say you can't race anymore because you are going to be a mother? Do yu have an idea of how many times I had to answer to multiple people that I wanted to focus on racing when they asked me about my future plans, about making a family?”
“I…” he sighed.
“You have it easy” I said pointing at him with my hand. “You can keep racing, you can have as many kids as you want, after all you won't have to carry them for nine months. But I have to carry this baby, Charles. I can't race anymore, my body won't be the same”
“And I'm sorry for that, it's my fault” he sighed.
“Yes, it is” I scoffed. “If there's one to blame here it's you. I did nothing wrong. Just because you decided to not use a condom and be drunk”
“You were drunk too” he tried to attack back, but he stopped looking at the floor.
I stood up and turned around and hugged myself, looking at the sunset and taking a deep breath.
“You can stay the night” I said. “But I want you out of here before I wake up”
“Dafne-”
“No” I stopped him. “Right now you only bring me pain. If you want to fix things, go back in time and go to your hotel room instead of mine”
Laying in bed, now more than ever, only brought memories.
The room that always has been mine changed all over the years. My grandma inherited this house from her father, who was something like the lord of the land. It's a big house, and when my mother had Erica and then me, she decided that she wanted to give us a room for ourselves, making my mother know that this building was also ours.
My room was decorated the moment my mother knew she was pregnant with me, and it started to get shape as I was getting older. The bed changed a few times, the shelves were full of books and plants, the wardrobe had summer clothes, the walls were filled with pictures of all the places I had been in my life.
This room it's my sanctuary more than the house itself.
And knowing that Charles is at the other side of the door, as many other times, makes me want to stay here safe.
I heard him walking around the house like he owned it. After all, he spent many summers here, he knows where the things are here. I heard him walk in the kitchen downstairs, making something for dinner. I heard him sneeze and yawn.
He really won't leave.
I sat on the bed, rubbing my belly softly while looking out the window, taking deep breaths when I felt my cat walking towards me.
“What should I do?” I whispered, looking at my cat.
The day I found out I was pregnant wasn't the best day of my life. I had a crash that made me fall unconscious, I pushed away a man I knew I could fall in love with and be with him, I disappointed my parents.
I sighed, rubbing my belly softly, something I found myself doing more than I wanted. And somehow, I liked feeling it. I liked feeling that I was growing a human in me, it made me feel stronger than ever. If only this baby was from the man I love…
The door opened slowly, making me turn my head towards him. He had a hand on the handle and the other on the door frame, looking at me, watching how I had my sweater raised up so I could feel the skin of my stomach.
“Eh… I made dinner” he said, with his eyes fixed on me.
“Good for you. What do you want, pats on your back? A trophy?” I answered sarcastically.
“I want you to eat dinner” he frowned.
“No, thank you. I won't eat something you made” I scoffed. “And I'm not hungry”
“Oh my God, can you stop?” he frowned. “I just want to apologize, make things right! And you make it very hard for me!”
“So? I think I made it pretty clear that I don't want to have you here” I frowned.
“And what are you going to do, raise that kid alone? It's mine too, I have every right to be here” he groaned.
“But I don't want you here!” I exclaimed. “I don't want to see you. I don't want to remember every second of the day that you are the father of this baby, that you are the one that made this!”
“Well, I'm sorry! Accidents happen!” he exclaimed, raising his arms.
“Exactly” I groaned. “This is an accident. But who will be the one that won't be damaged? You. I want you out of my life”
He clenched his jaw and looked at me, shaking his head. I just want him to leave me, is it that hard?
“You can't push everyone away, Dafne” he sighed. “You did that with Sebastian. And you always did it with me. I think it's time for us to act like adults”
“Get out of my room”
“Fine. But I won't leave this house until we talk” he said before closing my door.
“Asshole!” I screamed, grabbing a pillow and throwing it to the door. “I hate you!”
“Well, I don't!”
What?
I frowned looking at the door, hugging my stomach softly.
What did he say?
“Whatever” I groaned, turning around on the bed and laying on my side, with my back facing the door. “Your dad is not good, you won't like him”
I swallowed thickly, looking out of the window and drawing circles on my belly with my nails. I'm hungry, the baby is hungry, but I won't give him the satisfaction of eating whatever he made, not even sharing the same room with him.
Charles might have been the first love of my life. But that was a stupid, childish and innocent crush.
My stomach growled in the middle of the night, making me groan and rub it softly.
I'm hungry.
I sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing my eyes while I put warm socks on my feet. I got up and wrapped my shoulders with a blanket, taking a deep breath before walking out of my room.
I expected the house to be cold, like always. But it was warm. Maybe he fired the fireplace and let it die before he went to sleep.
I went downstairs and sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around me. The stairs were cold against my covered feet, making me shiver softly.
When I reached the last step I frowned, watching him. He was on the couch, an uncomfortable couch, hugging himself and with his head on a pillow.
“Idiot” I whisper, looking at him.
He could have gone to the room he shed to sleep in with his brothers whenever they came. But he stayed here, for what? Waiting for me to come?
I shook my head and walked towards the kitchen, sighing when I saw a plate on the counter. I sat on the chair and looked at it, biting my lip when I saw a sandwich on it.
And not a simple sandwich. My favorite sandwich.
“How the hell…” I frowned, turning around and looking at him.
How does he know that my favorite sandwich is the one that has tuna with mayo and ketchup? How?
I sighed, eating it and groaning when I swallowed it. God, it's so good.
“Is it good?”
I gasped softly, flinching. He's awake.
“Why are you sleeping on the couch? You have a room” I said, not turning.
“Just in case you walked downstairs” he sighed. “I know you, Dafne…”
“You know nothing about me, Leclerc” I frowned.
“I know that you love eating” he said, standing in front of me at the other side of the table. “I know that for dinner you always need your comfort meal, and after that you always have cookies with milk. You have been doing that since we are little”
“Fuck off” I groaned, looking away.
“I know that you love peaches, but you are allergic to the peel” he continued. “That you love the chocolate of Cadbury, more specifically the Wispa bars”
I frown and look at him. How? How does he know that? Why? Who told him?
“I know you, Dafne” he repeated.
“No, Charles! You don't know me” I said tiredly. “If you did, none of the shit that is happening between us should have happened! If you did, you would understand why I hated every second of every fight we had. Why can't you accept that I want to be someone successful? Why can't you let me be and mind your own business?”
“And do you think it was easy for me?” he exclaimed. “Do you think it was easy for me watching you risk your life every time you got into your kart and now into the cars? I knew from the start that this sport was dangerous, and when I saw you for the first time in a kart I nearly had a heart attack!”
“You are being so selfish! This is my dream” I exclaimed, standing up.
“And I tried, every time I could, to make sure you left it” he said. “I tried to fight against you to make you hate it, to make you see that…”
“What? That I'm not made for this? That this is a sport for men?”
He swallowed thickly and looked away, walking towards the window of the kitchen, his back facing me.
“When Jules died I started to have nightmares nearly every night” he whispered. “Some nights his crash on Sakura was on repeat in my mind. And then other nights that crash was happening to you. Do you have an idea of what was going on in my mind when I realized that the one that was in the barriers in Abu Dhabi was you? Do you have an idea of how hard it was for me knowing that you were unconscious?”
“Charles” I frowned.
“Do you have an idea how hard I tried to keep you safe? Dafne, I-”
“No. Don't do this. You have no right. How dare you? Why are you like this? Why the hell you have been acting all our fucking life like a jerk with me, making me feel so little, and then you come here now to say what, that you love me?” I scoffed.
But then he turned his head slowly, looking at me with those green eyes.
“No” I mumbled. “No. No, don't. Leave. Leave right now! I don't want to see you! Get the fuck out if my house!”
“Dafne…”
“No” I groaned. “You have no right”
He turned around to look at me but I just took a step back before he could reach me, walking out of the kitchen and going to the hall of the house to grab the key cars.
