A champion in the spotlight, a man hidden behind his own walls â Max Verstappen is more than just an impressive list of victories. And Katherine? Sheâs not chasing fame. Sheâs after what people try to bury. She doesnât have time for cocky drivers or ego games. Sheâs loved. Sheâs lost. Sheâs learned how to stand on her own, camera in hand and memories etched deep under her skin. This job was never meant to be more than a quick fix. A detour. Nothing else.
But when glances linger, when silence speaks louder than words, and the cracks start to show â something unexpected slips in. A spark. A tension. A fault line.
Between a sleepless night, a ghost from the past, and a moment that shouldâve meant nothing, theyâll each have to choose: run from it, or face what stirs when the masks come off.
Prologue
Chapter 1 - So much noise for so little
Chapter 2 - Ghosts of the present
Chapter 3 - A little too close to the edge
Chapter 4 - The faces that stay
Chapter 5 - What we write when no one's watching
Chapter 6 - Block it out, pack it up, carry on
Chapter 7 - Too late, too early
Chapter 8 - Breathing differently
Chapter 9 - What the ring doesn't say
Chapter 10 - Swimming upstream
Chapter 11 - In the blind spot
Chapter 12 - Half-alive
Chapter 13 - The grey zone
Chapter 14 - A forgotten obviousness
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
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A champion in the spotlight, a man hidden behind his own walls â Max Verstappen is more than just an impressive list of victories. And Katherine? Sheâs not chasing fame. Sheâs after what people try to bury. She doesnât have time for cocky drivers or ego games. Sheâs loved. Sheâs lost. Sheâs learned how to stand on her own, camera in hand and memories etched deep under her skin. This job was never meant to be more than a quick fix. A detour. Nothing else.
But when glances linger, when silence speaks louder than words, and the cracks start to show â something unexpected slips in. A spark. A tension. A fault line.
Between a sleepless night, a ghost from the past, and a moment that shouldâve meant nothing, theyâll each have to choose: run from it, or face what stirs when the masks come off.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
Berlin, December 2022
Max feels pleasantly tired. Today is his last day of forced smiles before some well-earned vacation. The FIA gala, where heâs set to receive his trophy, starts in just a few hours. Then itâll be endless small talk and glasses of champagne â but he knows how to handle that.
Itâll also be the first time he sees Lewis since Abu Dhabi. He hopes they can clear the air.
Kelly is getting ready in front of the mirror. Their first big event together as a couple â all eyes will be on her, and she wants to look perfect. Max, on the other hand, isnât. He threw on the first suit a stylist suggested, figuring it would do. The fabric itches. He feels out of place. He always does, unless heâs in his race suit and helmet. Everything else feels meaningless.
He glances at Kelly smoothing her hair. Sheâs beautiful, no denying that. Her dress fits her like a glove. Sheâs the perfect girlfriend â and he knows heâs lucky. But somethingâs missing. He doesnât feel complete.
He once tried to bring it up with his father, who just laughed and told him to grow up, that only kids thought like that, not men. So Max clenched his jaw, nodded, and buried the feeling deep down, hoping it would fade.
âIâm going to get some air,â he mutters, stepping out without looking back at Kelly.
His feet carry him to the lobby, then out to the hotel patio. Itâs nearly empty. He finds a bench by the fountain, closes his eyes, and breathes deep. Everything will be fine. Heâll talk to Lewis, settle things, and start 2023 on the right foot.
His moment of calm is broken by a string of curses that make him turn his head â and his jaw almost drops. Sheâs here. In an evening gown, her hair pinned in a low bun. Sheâs stunning. Effortlessly stunning.
He stands, moving toward her carefully, as if one wrong step might scare her off.
âKatherine?â
She whips her head around so fast heâs afraid sheâll hurt her neck. Sheâs even more beautiful up close. His gaze flickers down â thatâs when he notices the unusually large tear in her dress.
âWardrobe malfunction?â he asks, mentally cursing himself for the idiotic question.
âYeah⊠I shouldâve known a cheap Amazon dress was bound to end in disaster,â she sighs.
âFunny running into you here.â
âFunny for you maybe, not for me. Sorry if that sounds bad â Iâm not stalking you, promise. Iâm working tonight. Shooting the event. Actually, I should be thanking you. Well, not you exactly â your team. Someone passed along my number to the FIAâs media department, and they reached out,â she explains awkwardly.
âIâm glad they did,â Max says. âI saw the photos â no denying youâre talented. Youâre exactly the kind of person who can make a boring night like this feel a little more magical.â
He sees her blush, and it makes him proud. He makes Kelly blush too, but itâs not the same. It doesnât give him this⊠satisfaction. Stupid, really. Kelly is his girlfriend. Sheâs the one he should want to tease. The one who should pull him in.
He shouldnât be drawn to this woman with caramel eyes. Shouldnât be imagining his hands tangled in her curls, or worse â the taste of her lips. Not when heâs in a relationship. Not when Kat is basically a stranger.
âYeah, well, maybe I canât do much. I mean, I canât exactly show up looking like this.â
âI can help.â
âUnless youâve secretly got sewing skills, I donât see how.â
âI canât sew, but Iâve got contacts.â
âYou donât have toâŠâ she shifts from one foot to the other.
âItâs nothing, really. And a few people owe me favors.â
âI donât know⊠but I guess I donât have much choice if I donât want to look like a mess in a fancy place like this.â
It only takes him thirty minutes to arrange a delivery to the hotel. While they wait in the lobby, they actually get to know each other a little.
âIâm from Belgium, a small place near Brussels. Lived there until I was twenty, then hit the road as a freelance photographer. Itâs amazing, traveling â Iâve seen so many countries, landscapes. I feel lucky.â
âBelgium? What are the odds. I grew up there too.â
âSmall worldâŠâ
âReally small. And I agree, travelingâs great, but it can wear you down. You donât realize how much you love your bed until you donât sleep in it anymore,â he laughs.
Silence falls, but itâs comfortable. For once, Max doesnât feel the need to fill the air. He leans back, sneaking a glance at Kat, whoâs fidgeting with her ring.
The question heâs been holding back since Abu Dhabi escapes.
âNo, not at all. Not really into sports in general. More of an artsy type.â
âAnd heâs fine with you traveling the world? Must not be easy every day.â
âHeâs always with me. Even when heâs not,â she answers simply, fiddling with her dress. Max is about to press when someone walks in carrying a package.
âSpecial delivery for Max Verstappen,â the courier announces, looking out of breath. Mustâve run, Kat thinks, and a wave of guilt washes over her. She doesnât want to be a burden.
Max grabs the emerald-green box tied with a black ribbon, thanks the man quickly, and hands it to Kat. She hesitates for a second.
âYou didnât have to do thisâŠâ she murmurs, cheeks pink, fingers tugging nervously at the bow.
âThink of it as saving your dignity. Not for you, really â more for all those old guys inside whoâd probably keel over if you walked in looking like you came straight from the local strip club.â
âCharming.â
He can tell heâs offended her. That wasnât his intention. Or maybe it was. He doesnât even know. He needs to keep her at armâs length. Itâs the right thing. The sensible thing.
He has Kelly. Damn it.
He shouldnât be out here arranging evening gowns for a girl he barely knows. He should be inside, with the woman heâs supposed to love, taking Instagram selfies to prove theyâre the perfect couple, shaking hands, saying how thrilled he is to be there.
âI mean⊠itâs still better than your ripped dress.â
Kat blinks, thrown off by his hot-and-cold routine. She sighs and heads toward the bathroom with the box. Max stays behind, watching her go, her steps uncertain. His gaze drifts.
He knows he was cold. Harsh, even. He couldâve been kind. Couldâve said something normal. But no â he shut down.
Because she irritates him. Because she draws him in.
Because he doesnât want to feel what he feels.
Itâs easier to push her away.
When she comes back, he sneaks a glance. The dress fits. Too well. He looks away immediately.
âNot worse than the other one,â he mutters.
Kat frowns but lets it slide. He feels her eyes on him, waiting for something more, something real. He gives her nothing.
âI should go,â she finally says quietly. âTheyâre waiting for me.â
He nods.
âDo what you need to do.â
She leaves.
And heâs left alone with that damn knot in his stomach.
It isnât longing. It isnât desire. Itâs messier than that. More dangerous.
She makes him nervous. That unflinching gaze. The way she doesnât play games, doesnât expect anything from him. She doesnât look at him like heâs a champion. No awe, no hero worship.
Sheâs just⊠there.
And it drives him crazy.
He heads back inside. Lights, flashes, champagne glasses. Everything feels too much. He shakes hands, smiles mechanically. Against his better judgment, his eyes search for Kat. He finds her â focused, professional, keeping her distance.
She ignores him completely.
And he hates it.
Later in the evening, she brushes past him by accident on her way across the room. He catches her scent â simple, unpretentious. Real.
He turns to her, speaking before he can stop himself.
âI hope youâre at least making me look good.â
She lifts her eyes to his, surprised, then answers calmly:
âI take pictures of masks.â
Max blinks. Doesnât get it.
Kat sees his confusion and explains:
âPeople always put on a version of themselves. Especially at nights like this. Perfect smile, confident eyes, poised stance⊠itâs rarely genuine. Itâs a mask. And thatâs what I capture. Because sometimes, what we try to hide is more visible than what we show.â
She says it without malice, without provocation â just a statement. But Max feels exposed. Stripped bare.
He crosses his arms like a shield, frowning slightly.
âWhat, you psychoanalyzing me now?
Kat shrugs lightly.
âYou asked a question. I answered.â
She holds his gaze for a moment with those big caramel eyes before looking away, adjusting her camera. Her movements arenât tense, but Maxâs gut twists.
She unsettles him â not because she tries, but because she doesnât. Because sheâs just there. Honest. Raw. And he has no idea how to deal with that.
He feels the need to seize back control.
âYou act like you see through everyone.â
Kat smiles then, but without warmth.
âNo. But I watch. You, for example⊠you work very hard to look detached.â
Masâs jaw tightens.
âAnd you work very hard to make it seem like youâre fine.â
Katâs head lifts slowly, surprised. His tone isnât mocking â just sharp. Like heâs throwing her own words back at her, not to wound, but because he canât help himself.
âYou talk like you see through people, but the way you grip that camera⊠itâs like a weapon. Like itâs your only shield. Like youâre scared someone might look back at you.â
He sees her freeze â just for a split second. Then she forces a smile, one that never reaches her eyes.
Silence falls between them, heavy with everything unsaid.
Itâs warm in the ballroom, but a door opens somewhere, letting in a draft of cold air that makes Kat shiver. Max notices her bare arms, but does nothing. Doesnât move.
He wants to say something. Feels the impulse clawing at his throat. But the words wonât come. Heâs afraid of saying too much. Or not enough.
So he falls back on arrogance â his old ally.
âShame youâre wasting all that talent on nights like this.â
Kat laughs softly â short and sharp.
âShame youâre wasting all that potential pretending to be an aloof asshole.â
Max raises a brow. He should be angry. He should snap back with something cutting. But instead, he laughs â a short, surprised sound.
âDonât worry. Your secretâs safe with me. Iâm a photographer, not a journalist.â
He shakes his head, unsure if she annoys him or disarms him. Probably both.
He clears his throat, acutely aware of her gaze on him. Direct. Piercing. The kind of look that makes him too conscious of himself, of where he stands, of the space he takes up.
Finally, he breaks the silence.
âYou should get back to work.â
âI am working,â she says simply, nodding toward her camera.
And with that, she leaves him standing there, not an ounce of regret in her step.
Max watches her go, her dress flowing around her legs like a calm tide. She doesnât look back. She doesnât need to.
He knows she knows.
And it infuriates him.
And it fascinates him.
And it terrifies him.
Because with her, heâs not in control.
Not even of himself.
ooOoo
Author's note : I know, I know â itâs been a while đ Life got in the way and this chapter kind of slipped through the cracks⊠but weâre back!
And wow, things are heating up, right? Max and Kat canât seem to stay away from each other (even though they really should). The tension at the gala nearly wrote itself. So tell me â do you think Adamâs the one losing control here, or is Kat the one dancing a little too close to the edge?
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience.
A champion in the spotlight, a man hidden behind his own walls â Max Verstappen is more than just an impressive list of victories. And Katherine? Sheâs not chasing fame. Sheâs after what people try to bury. She doesnât have time for cocky drivers or ego games. Sheâs loved. Sheâs lost. Sheâs learned how to stand on her own, camera in hand and memories etched deep under her skin. This job was never meant to be more than a quick fix. A detour. Nothing else.
But when glances linger, when silence speaks louder than words, and the cracks start to show â something unexpected slips in. A spark. A tension. A fault line.
Between a sleepless night, a ghost from the past, and a moment that shouldâve meant nothing, theyâll each have to choose: run from it, or face what stirs when the masks come off.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
He feels his throat tighten the moment his eyes land on the camera lens. But itâs not the object itself, which he hates, that makes his blood boil. Itâs the face behind it. A mirage â it can only be that.
That face has haunted him for four years. The face of a lost girl, running down a hospital corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks, desperation carved into every line.
He doesnât know why she left such a deep mark in his mind.
Max is a man who rarely regrets anything â but not chasing after her that day is one of them. Itâs stupid, he knows. He doesnât even know her name. He shouldnât be so affected.
Heâs furious with himself. This isnât him.
He mumbles an apology to Kelly and leaves her behind. He feels foolish, but promises to make it up later. For now, he needs to see her, to talk to her, to do⊠something.
He scans the crowd until he spots her, tucked away in a dark corner. His legs move on their own, and soon heâs standing in front of her.
She looks up â big, shining caramel eyes, rebellious brown curls escaping from her ponytail.
His fingers twitch, and he wants to run his hand through her hair.
Her mouth opens, and for a second, she looks like a deer caught in headlights â then she pulls herself together.
âHi,â she says simply, clutching her camera like a lifeline.
Max opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. He wants to say something smart, something funny â but thatâs not what escapes.
âYouâre not part of the team.â
She stiffens, raises an eyebrow, challenging him.
âBecause Iâm not. Iâm freelance. Doing a favor for a friend. Believe me, I have zero interest in staying here longer than I have to. I donât even know what theyâre celebrating. Not that I care. Iâm just here for the money, then Iâm out.â
Maybe sheâs saying too much, but Max finds it attractive.
âTheyâre celebrating me,â he says, instantly regretting his cocky tone.
She shakes her head, rolls her eyes.
âAnd you are exactly who, Mr. Big Ego?â
She laughs at him, and normally, if it were someone else, heâd wipe that smile off her face. But somehow, it doesnât bother him.
âIâm Max Verstappen,â he finally says, holding out his hand.
âKatherine Steven. But everyone calls me Kat.â
She takes his hand, and Max swears he feels a jolt. Her palm is warm, not sweaty against his. When she pulls away, he suddenly feels cold.
He also notices the diamond ring sparkling on her finger.
Of course sheâs engaged.
He doesnât understand why his chest tightens. He knows nothing about her, seeing an engagement ring shouldnât affect him. Not when he has a girlfriend.
âWell, Kat⊠nice to meet you. Maybe see you around,â he says, wanting to keep talking, but he sees Christian, his team principal, and Geri, his wife, waving at him.
Thatâs the perfect escape. One more minute with her and heâd embarrass himself.
âI donât think weâll meet again, but it was nice. Congrats on⊠whatever you won.â
He laughs and starts to turn away â then feels her hand on his wrist, stopping him.
âWait! I donât want to sound weird, but⊠havenât we met before?â
He wants to say yes. This is his chance. But for the first time in a long while, heâs scared.
âI donât think so. Iâd remember.â
She takes a step back, suddenly very interested in the floor.
âI must be confusing you with someone else. You must have a very common face.â
âI guess so,â he repeats, throat tight.
Youâre an idiot, Max thinks as he weaves through sweaty bodies.
But did he really want to come off as a weirdo tonight? Because thatâs exactly what he would have been.
Yes, I know you. We crossed paths years ago, in that damn hospital corridor, when you were running away. You were so pale, tears streaking your cheeks, red eyes⊠but I swear I saw an angel that day.
Perfect way to get a restraining order, MaxâŠ
He rejoins Christian and Geri at the back of the club, where theyâre lounging on a sofa surrounded by security.
Checo is there too. Max isnât sure he likes him, but itâs Checoâs first season with Red Bull, and he has to adapt.
Max knows the team is built around him â everything is set up for him to win. Checo has struggled to find his place. Max just hopes their partnership will improve next year.
âMan of the day! No, the year!â Christian jokes, clapping Max on the back as he sits beside him.
Checo raises his glass in silent congratulations. Geri pulls out her phone, snaps a quick photo, asking everyone to smile.
No one forces it â except Max, who has to convince his facial muscles to obey and deliver a happy smile to the lens.
Itâs his night, the best day of his life â and yet heâs waiting for the sun to rise, for a new day to begin.
Kelly soon joins the group, nestling against him and kissing his cheek. He takes her hand unconsciously and squeezes it tight. Despite everything, heâs glad sheâs here.
The night drags on until he deems it reasonable to leave. He thanks everyone again, then, distracted, searches the crowd for the caramel-eyed girl with the brown curls who haunts him. Disappointed not to see her. Maybe lost somewhere in the club, or maybe she got what she wanted and left.
A bittersweet feeling washes over him â another regret added to his list, and oddly, it only concerns her.
But today, he has a name.
And he knows better than anyone how unpredictable life can be.
Maybe their paths will cross again.
And maybe this time, heâll discover more than just her name.
ooOoo
As soon as she steps through the door, Kat kicks off her heels without a backward glance.
Her dress soon joins the pile on the floor before she digs out an old white t-shirt from the bottom of her suitcase. As usual, she takes a deep breath, burying her nose in the fabric, searching for a trace of Mattâs scent.
Sheâs tried. She canât. Thinking about another man, daring to flirt with someone other than Matt, feels wrong. Like a betrayal.
She knows heâd want her to be happy, free from him. But the cage is soft, so comfortable. She no longer knows where the key is. Sheâs not even sure she wants to find it. So she lives in a perpetual in-between. Between a heavy past and a future full of promise. One foot in the past, the other in the future, but never really in the present. Sheâs there, front-row spectator of her own life â but sheâs not living it.
She canât.
If she did, sheâs sure sheâd collapse. All the feelings sheâs bottled up for years would flood out, drowning her. Itâs scary, unhealthy â but sheâs grown used to it.
Itâs not fair, but itâs easy.
She opens her laptop and transfers the photos from the evening. Itâs too late to work, but she wonât sleep anyway, and she always works better at night. She scrolls through the shots and laughs to herself.
Many feature this guy, Max.
Itâs almost funny. But the expressions on his face reflect almost exactly how she felt that night.
Like her, he doesnât look like he wants to be there.
Like her, he hides in plain sight.
Like her, he seems alone in the crowd.
Maybe thatâs why she thought sheâd seen him somewhere before. Because heâs her mirror.
She shakes her head to clear the bad thoughts. Overall, the photos are good. Just a few tweaks needed â mostly lighting â but sheâs confident she can send them to the media team tomorrow.
The next morning, she spends the whole morning adjusting light and contrast until every image is perfect. And when she sends them off, the reply is quick. The team is happy with her work and asks if she can keep her contact info for next time.
She hesitates.
Itâs not her favorite kind of job, but after all, itâs just her number and email â nothing more. It costs nothing, and she always needs to expand her network. Itâs a good opportunity she canât refuse. And who knows? Maybe sheâll never be called back.
A part of her thinks about Max⊠He intrigues her. She doesnât want to admit it, but the idea of seeing him again excites her. Heâs like a puzzle, a riddle to solve, and Katâs always been good at guessing, cracking mysteries.
Max is the most interesting puzzle to come her way in a long time.
ooOoo
Author's note : Hey there! Thanks so much for reading this chapter â I hope you felt the tension and the sparks between Max and Kat as much as I did while writing it. Theyâre both carrying so much with them, arenât they? Iâd love to hear what you think about these two mysterious souls crossing paths. See you in the next chapter!
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience.
A champion in the spotlight, a man hidden behind his own walls â Max Verstappen is more than just an impressive list of victories. And Katherine? Sheâs not chasing fame. Sheâs after what people try to bury. She doesnât have time for cocky drivers or ego games. Sheâs loved. Sheâs lost. Sheâs learned how to stand on her own, camera in hand and memories etched deep under her skin. This job was never meant to be more than a quick fix. A detour. Nothing else.
But when glances linger, when silence speaks louder than words, and the cracks start to show â something unexpected slips in. A spark. A tension. A fault line.
Between a sleepless night, a ghost from the past, and a moment that shouldâve meant nothing, theyâll each have to choose: run from it, or face what stirs when the masks come off.
Masterlist - Prologue - Next
Abu Dhabi, 2021
He feels numb. He knows he should feel the opposite. Euphoric, overjoyed, overwhelmed with emotion â all of it at once. But he doesnât. Instead, thereâs apathy. A faint sense of contentment, barely there.
He did what he had to do. He won. Maybe not the way heâd hoped, but still â itâs done. Heâs world champion. Years of sacrifice, relentless effort, long stretches away from home â it all finally paid off.
He sees it. Feels it. All the eyes on him, full of congratulations. He smiles for the cameras, says how happy and proud he is. He thanks his team, tells the press this victory is as much theirs as it is his.
But inside, he feels nothing. Itâs almost an out-of-body experience. His movements donât feel like his own, his voice doesnât sound quite right, his words ring hollow. But he plays along. Heâs used to it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Lewis â head down, sitting on the concrete. He takes a step toward the Brit. Why? Heâs not sure. He didnât want to win like this. He knows Lewis feels robbed â and he has every reason to.
Truth is, Max feels robbed too.
Itâs his first title, but he knows plenty of people will say he doesnât deserve it. Doesnât matter how many battles he fought this season, how many races he won. What people will remember is this race â this moment â and that final lap behind the safety car.
A controversial end to one of the closest championships in years.
Just as he starts to move toward the seven-time world champion, one of his mechanics pulls him aside, yelling something he doesnât even hear. And when he turns back, Lewis is gone.
He exhales slowly. He wants to win. He wants to break records. But not like this. Not at any cost.
He wants to win clean.
He also knows whatâs coming â the scrutiny, the pressure, the doubts. Because now heâll have to prove himself ten times over, more than if heâd won fair and square. He doesnât want to feel like a fraud. Thatâs his greatest fear. So heâll work harder than anyone else.Â
He has to.
The interviews and press conferences blur together. Lewis doesnât hold back. And it stings.
Max tries to meet his gaze, chooses his words carefully, tries not to come off as harsh or arrogant. But he knows heâs not good at sugarcoating things. He doesnât dance around the truth. He hates corporate PR talk.
Itâs his greatest strength â and his biggest flaw.
A nightmare for Red Bullsâs PR team. But he doesnât care. Thatâs not his job.
Sometimes he doubts himself. Before an interview, he tells himself to be calm, polite, to think before he speaks. Then a journalist says something idiotic or wrong, and all his good intentions go straight out the window.
When he slams the door to his locker room, heâs nearly knocked over by a whirlwind of dark hair and a pair of icy blue eyes locked onto his.
Kelly Piquet, his girlfriend. Sheâs here. No doubt came looking for him.
He pauses to take her in. Sheâs been there all season â listening, supporting, caring, loving him.
She grounds him. Makes things feel simpler.
Heâs been calmer, less impulsive since she walked into his life.
She has a daughter â Penelope. The sweetest little kid Maxâs ever met. He loves spending time with her.
But as he stares into Kellyâs eyes, he wonders if his reflect the same love he sees in hers.
He likes her. He enjoys being with her and Penelope. He appreciates her support.
But when he looks at her, there are no butterflies. And thatâs fine by him.
He made peace with the idea a long time ago â love wasnât part of the plan.
His father always said he couldnât afford to let something as superficial as love get in the way of success.
Heâd worked too hard for this.
All he needed was someone pretty who fit the image. His father had been thrilled when he learned Kelly had a kid. A picture-perfect family to sell.
Thatâs what they were.
And if it didnât make Max truly happy, at least it made for good press. And good press meant peace â which he craved more than anything.
"Iâm so, so proud of you! You were incredible! That final lap..."
"This Grand Prix was a circus."
"Still⊠you won."
He shrugs. He doesnât want to argue. All he wants is sleep. But he canât â thereâs a party heâs expected to show up to.
Just thinking about it gives him a headache.
Kelly, of course, is already ready to go. Thatâs what he likes about her â how easily she fits into this world, how she gets it without him having to explain. It makes things easier.
âI canât wait to go home.â
âPenelopeâs going to be so happy to see you.â
âI missed her,â Max admits.
âShe needed you too.â
He takes a deep breath, then smiles.
âJust one more night, and then weâre out of here.â
âArenât you the least bit excited?â she asks.
âIâm exhausted. That was the most stressful race of my life. I havenât even processed it yet. It still feels⊠unreal.â
âIâm sure a good glass of champagne and a decent DJ will fix that,â she says, brushing his cheek. He leans into her touch.
ooOoo ooOoo ooOoo
Itâs hot in Abu Dhabi. Sheâs been sweating buckets since sunrise. All her dreams â a hot bath and a good book â vanished the moment she got a call late in the afternoon.
Portia, her friend, was asking for a favor. Photographing an event... definitely not her thing. Kat is a freelance photographer, a globe-trotter. She travels all over the world, hired by magazines and agencies to capture breathtaking landscapes and iconic travel shots. Sheâs rarely home â she can count on one hand the number of nights spent in her own bed.
But she loves this life. Quiet, unpredictable. Her escape.
When sheâs holding her camera, her mind goes still. Itâs been like that for three years â ever since she ran out of that damn hospital room and never looked back.
Her steps brought her here, to Abu Dhabi, for a short trip. She was supposed to photograph the city and fly back to Belgium. She was meant to leave tonight.
But Portia managed to twist her arm.
The photographer originally booked for the evening had a family emergency. Finding someone reliable at the last minute hadnât been easy.
âI need the best of the best, Kat. And you are the best of the best.â
âI donât shoot events! I shoot nature, not people!â
âSame thing! Except the people move more than leaves. Come on, itâs a big contract.â
Kat inhales, exhales, pinches the bridge of her nose. She already knows sheâs going to say yes. Portia has a lot on her plate â she canât let her down.
âLetâs say I agree â and thatâs a stretch â can you at least tell me more about the job?â
She can practically hear the smug grin forming on her friendâs lips.
âItâs at a private club. A Formula One team rented it out â they just won the championship and want photos of the party, just for memoryâs sake. Nothing huge, but theyâre paying the agency a serious amount, so I canât afford to screw it up.â
Kat sighs. Athletes are the worst to deal with â too loud, too cocky, too entitled. Money makes them think they can get away with anything.
âSo⊠can I count on you?â Portia asks, and Kat hears the pleading in her voice. She pictures her friend giving her puppy eyes through the phone.
âYou owe me big time,â Kat finally says, and the squeal of joy on the other end makes her jump.
âYeah, yeah, Iâve got you. Youâre saving my life! Iâll let the PR team know and send you the details once I have them.â
Thatâs how Kat ends up, later that evening, standing outside one of the most exclusive clubs in Abu Dhabi.
Her gear hangs around her neck as she struggles to show the email to the bouncer, who gives her a slow once-over filled with disdain. Sure, her outfit isnât expensive, but itâs comfortable â and thatâs all that matters.
She gives him a polite smile as he finally lets her through.
The music is loud â way too loud for her taste â and the place is packed with sweaty, overheated bodies dancing under flashing lights. Someone leads her to the VIP section.
There, she meets Elen, her point of contact from Portiaâs team, who gives her a clear rundown of whatâs expected. Once the briefingâs done, sheâs left alone, giving her a moment to adjust her settings.
Satisfied, Kat takes a breath and scans the crowd.
People are chatting, laughing, drinking. She snaps a few shots â partly to test the light, partly because these moments feel genuinely candid.
Itâs through the lens that she sees him. A blond guy. Strangely familiar, though she canât place where sheâs seen him before. Heâs alone, watching the party from an elevated corner near the DJ. He looks... regal. Thereâs a power and pride in the way he carries himself. He stands out.
But thereâs something else. Something she knows all too well.
Heâs wearing a mask â not a literal one, but something invisible. She recognizes it immediately. She wears the same one in public. A mask of false confidence. Fake it till it feels real.
Without realizing, sheâs drawn to him â just as a woman steps into the frame and kisses him. He spins the woman around so her back faces Katâs camera. She has just enough time to take a shot before something else pulls her attention away.
She spends the next hour circling the space, snapping pictures, until her feet start to ache and she needs a break. In a quiet corner, she scrolls through her camera roll â until she lands on the photos of the blond man.
Theyâre good. Really good. Just a few light adjustments needed.
But then she sees it. Subtle, but definitely there. The way heâs looking straight into the lens â like heâs stripped bare. Like he saw her. Really saw her.
She shakes her head. Canât be. Just a coincidence. An illusion. Nothing more.
But when she looks up... heâs right there. Standing in front of her.
----------
Author's note : And with that, the first chapter is out! From now on, I'll be updating this story every Sunday. I can't wait for you to know more about Kat and Max.
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience.
A champion in the spotlight, a man hidden behind his own walls â Max Verstappen is more than just an impressive list of victories. And Katherine? Sheâs not chasing fame. Sheâs after what people try to bury. She doesnât have time for cocky drivers or ego games. Sheâs loved. Sheâs lost. Sheâs learned how to stand on her own, camera in hand and memories etched deep under her skin. This job was never meant to be more than a quick fix. A detour. Nothing else.
But when glances linger, when silence speaks louder than words, and the cracks start to show â something unexpected slips in. A spark. A tension. A fault line.
Between a sleepless night, a ghost from the past, and a moment that shouldâve meant nothing, theyâll each have to choose: run from it, or face what stirs when the masks come off.
Masterlist - Next
March 2018 â Brussels
The steady beep of the machine soothes her. A reminder that heâs alive â at least partially. Heâs here, but not really. He belongs to her, but only halfway. She belongs to him, but no longer forever. She knows it, yet refuses to fully face the truth. A tear rolls down her cheek, sliding along her neck. She doesnât bother hiding it. She takes the manâs hand in hers, intertwines their fingers, and the sparkling diamond catches the last rays of the setting sun sheâs watching.
She remembers everything: the walk in the park, their bursts of laughter, his teasing about his desire to see life through a camera lens just like she did, his compliments when he said she was perfect, then that knee on the ground â the question sheâd dreamed of hearing from his lips. She didnât hesitate. He was the love of her life.
And just when she thought life couldnât get any sweeter, he was torn away. Just like that, suddenly.
She feels a hand on her shoulder, squeezing gently.
âKatherine⊠you need to let him go⊠itâs been monthsâŠâ
She doesnât know what to say. Her breath catches in her throat, tears threatening to fall. She refuses to believe it. Heâs all sheâs ever known. High school love. Her best friend. Her everything.
âI⊠I donât want toâŠâ she whispers, her voice breaking.
âI know⊠heâs my son, too. I never thought Iâd have to make a choice like this,â his mother fights the emotion tightening her voice. âHeâs so young.â
âWe had our whole lives ahead of us.â
âYou still do. Youâre only twenty, KatherineâŠâ
âBut whatâs the point of a life without him? Itâs worthless.â
Itâs the first time Kat says those words aloud. A strange mix of relief and guilt floods her. Relief because sheâs finally facing the truth. Guilt because she feels like sheâs betraying him.
âTill death do us part,â they say. She never imagined death would come so soon.
Suddenly, the white walls of the room feel too tight, the air too thin. She needs to get out. To escape. To be anywhere but here.
âSorryâŠâ she whispers, as her legs carry her out of the room.
Tears blur her vision, but she doesnât care. She needs air. She pays no attention to her steps and bumps into a solid chest, staggering from the impact. Two hands catch her, steady her. She looks up and sees a blond man, probably her age.
âYou okay?â he asks, out of simple politeness.
âSorryâŠâ she repeats, as if itâs the only sentence sheâs managed to say lately. Then she walks away, leaving the boy frozen, struck as if by lightning.
----------
Author's note : Hello dear readers, it's been a while but I'm back with this story I'mvery excited to share. It's only the prologue but I'm delighted to say that you will be able to discover the first real chapter just after tomorrow's race. I hope you will love Max and Kat's story as much as I do and without giving away anything it's gonna be an emotional ride.
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience.
taglist : @teamnovalak
If you'd like to be included in the tag list, please let me know!
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âYou act like youâve got everyone figured out.â
Kat smiled then, but there was nothing kind in it.
âNo. I just pay attention. You, for example⊠you try awfully hard to look like you donât give a damn.â
Max's jaw tightened.
âAnd you try awfully hard to look like youâve got it all under control.â
Kat lifted her head slowly, surprised. Max's tone wasnât mockingâit was clean and sharp, like a blade meant to return the hit sheâd just landed. Not meant to hurt, necessarily. Just impossible to hold back.
âYou talk like you see right through people, but the way you hold your cameraâitâs like a shield. Like itâs the only thing keeping the world at armâs length. Like youâre scared someone might actually look back.â
She stilled for a moment. Barely a beat. Then came a smileâsmall, practiced. One that didnât reach her eyes.
Silence settled again, dense with all the things neither of them said. It was warm inside the reception hall, but a door creaked open somewhere, letting in a draft that slipped through the quiet. Kat shivered without meaning to. Max noticed the goosebumps on her bare arms, but didnât move. Didnât say a word.
He wanted to. He could feel the words rising, catching in the back of his throat. But nothing came out. He was afraid of saying too much. Or not enough. So he fell back on arroganceâhis old, reliable armor.
âShame to see all that talent wasted on parties like this.â
Kat let out a dry laugh, short and unamused.
âShame to see all that potential wasted playing the emotionally unavailable asshole.â
Max raised an eyebrow. He should be pissed. He should throw something back. But instead, he laughedâquick and involuntary, like sheâd caught him off guard.
âDonât worry. Your secretâs safe with me. Iâm a photographer, not a journalist.â
He shook his head, unsure if she was getting under his skin or under his defenses. Probably both. He cleared his throat. He could feel Katâs gaze on himâsteady, unflinching. The kind of gaze that made him too aware of himself, of where he was standing, of how little he was hiding.
Finally, he broke the silence.
âYou should get back to work.â
âI am,â she said simply, nodding toward her camera.
And with that, she walked awayâwithout a trace of hesitation or apology. Max watched her go, the fabric of her dress gliding around her legs like quiet waves. She didnât look back.
She didnât have to.
He knew she knew.
And it pissed him off.
And it fascinated him.
And it scared the hell out of him.
Because around her, he wasnât in control.
Not even of himself.
-----------------
Author's note : As I was editing some things through the draft of this story, I told myself that it would be a nice idea to give you a little snippet of what you can expect. Let me know if you liked it đ
As King of my heart is now over (for the part one at least, I plan a sequel to it, don't worry), it's time to move on to the next story.
As a little gift and a memory from the past, it's time to share Max and Kat's story. This means that Lyanna and Charles from Cruel Summer will have their own cameos, which is very exciting for me. I'm eager to delve into this story with you! For now, I will leave you with the summary and the cover of this new story.
Summary :
A champion in the spotlight, a man hidden behind his own walls â Max Verstappen is more than just an impressive list of victories. And Katherine? Sheâs not chasing fame. Sheâs after what people try to bury. She doesnât have time for cocky drivers or ego games. Sheâs loved. Sheâs lost. Sheâs learned how to stand on her own, camera in hand and memories etched deep under her skin. This job was never meant to be more than a quick fix. A detour. Nothing else.
But when glances linger, when silence speaks louder than words, and the cracks start to show â something unexpected slips in. A spark. A tension. A fault line.
Between a sleepless night, a ghost from the past, and a moment that shouldâve meant nothing, theyâll each have to choose: run from it, or face what stirs when the masks come off.
If you'd like to be included in the tag list, please let me know!
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously
Lamborghini Racing Announces Changes for the Upcoming Season
Sant'Agata Bolognese, Italy â Lamborghini Racing today announced that Kyle Dawson, the three-time World Champion and long-time team member, will be departing from the team at the end of this season. After an illustrious career with Lamborghini, Dawson has decided to pursue new opportunities for the upcoming season.
âIt has been an honor to race with Lamborghini and be part of this family for so many years,â said Dawson. âTogether, weâve achieved remarkable success, and I am incredibly proud of everything weâve accomplished. However, after much thought and reflection, I have decided itâs time for a new chapter in my career. I will forever cherish the memories and the victories weâve shared, but itâs time to move on and continue growing both as a driver and as a person.â
Kyle Dawsonâs departure marks the end of a remarkable era for Lamborghini Racing, which saw Dawson claim three World Championship titles and contribute to the teamâs impressive record on the track.
Lamborghini Racing also confirmed that Ethan Verstappen, the rising star and fan-favorite driver, will be joining the team for the upcoming season. Verstappen, known for his consistent performance and his close rivalry with Dawson over the years, will be pairing with Ludwig Martinelli as his new teammate for the next campaign.
âWe are thrilled to welcome Ethan Verstappen to Lamborghini Racing,â said Christian Horner, Team Principal of Lamborghini Racing. âEthanâs talent, commitment, and competitive spirit will be a valuable addition to our team as we look to build on our legacy. Weâre excited for what the future holds with him and Ludwig working together as teammates.â
The announcement also marks the beginning of a new era for Lamborghini Racing as they continue to pursue excellence on the racetrack.
âWe wish Kyle all the best in his future endeavors,â Horner added. âHe will always be a part of the Lamborghini Racing family, and we are excited to see what the future holds for him. As for Ethan, weâre eager to see the amazing things he will accomplish with us.â
The next racing season will undoubtedly bring new challenges, but Lamborghini Racing remains committed to striving for excellence, innovation, and performance, as always.
Audi Racing Welcomes Kyle Dawson for the Next Racing Season
Ingolstadt, Germany â Audi Racing is excited to announce the signing of three-time World Champion Kyle Dawson, who will be joining the team for the next racing season. Dawson will race alongside Audiâs star driver, Romy Schumacher, in what promises to be an exceptional partnership and a thrilling new chapter for the team.
âWe are thrilled to welcome Kyle Dawson to Audi Racing,â said Sebastien Vettel, Team Principal of Audi Racing. âKyle is a world-class driver with a wealth of experience, and we believe his expertise will be instrumental in pushing Audi Racing to new heights. Alongside Romy, we expect them to form a formidable duo and take the team to the top of the championship standings.â
Dawsonâs decision to join Audi comes after a period of introspection and his desire to take on a new challenge after a highly successful career with Lamborghini. Known for his exceptional skill and determination, Dawson is looking forward to contributing to Audi's success. His arrival marks a key milestone for Audi Racing as the team builds its future with a strong and talented lineup.
âIâm incredibly excited to join Audi Racing and to be teaming up with Romy Schumacher,â said Dawson. âAudiâs commitment to excellence and innovation is something Iâve always admired, and I canât wait to get started. Iâve spent years chasing titles with Lamborghini, but now, Iâm ready for a new challenge and a fresh start with Audi.â
Romy Schumacher, Audiâs cornerstone driver, will continue to lead the team. Her proven skill and resilience on the track, paired with Dawsonâs experience, will give Audi Racing a competitive edge as the team looks ahead to the next season.
âIâm absolutely thrilled to have Kyle as my teammate,â said Schumacher. âHeâs been one of the top drivers in the sport for years, and Iâm looking forward to working alongside him. Together, I believe we can accomplish amazing things for Audi Racing and take the team to the next level.â
Audi Racing is excited for the next season and looks forward to the dynamic partnership between Kyle Dawson and Romy Schumacher as they aim to dominate the track and bring success to the team.
Author's note: Okay, well, first of all, I kind of totally forgot that I still had the epilogue to post. I have no excuse besides the fact that life has been tough lately for a lot of reasons and KOMH hasn't been on top of my priority list.
Now, I hope you like this epilogue, and I also hope you liked discovering Romy and Kyle's story. I'm not going to lie, I still have a part two planned for this story, which is supposed to explore what Romy and Kyle's relationship now that they are teammates. I don't know if it will be released here or even if it will be released at all. I suppose it all depends on you. So let me now.
For now, I'm going to take a break before sharing a new story, which I'm really excited to tell you more about.
29. You're my end and my beginning, even when I lose, I'm winning
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack : All of me - John Legend
The lights of the Vegas Strip reflected off the glistening tarmac, casting long shadows across the track. The atmosphere was electric, charged with the kind of energy that could only come from a race in the heart of the city. Kyle had dreamed of moments like thisâwhere the whole world seemed to pause, focused solely on him and the machines he commanded.
But this time, the feeling was different. The rush of the race was there, but underneath it was something else. The pressure. The pain. The fear. Every turn was a test of his skill, but with each passing lap, his vision flickered like a lightbulb on the verge of going out. The AMD that had been creeping up on him for months now felt like a storm threatening to swallow him whole. His eyes burned, the migraines pulsing behind his temples. His left eye blurred in the corners of his vision, and he had to force himself to stay focused, knowing that every second could be a step closer to losing more of what he loved.
He pushed through. He had to.
But even in the midst of the race, there were flashes of doubtâmoments when he could have sworn the world around him was slipping. He couldnât let that happen. Not here. Not now. Not in the race that could secure him his third World Championship. He could feel the teamâs expectations on his shoulders. The tension in the air as the other drivers pushed harder. The cheers of the crowd, the thrill of the competition. It all felt so distant.
Lamborghini. His team. The future. It all felt so⊠fragile.
With one final burst of speed, Kyle crossed the finish line, his car roaring to victory as the checkered flag waved in front of him. The crowd erupted into cheers, the roar of the crowd like thunder in his ears. It should have been everything. The culmination of years of blood, sweat, and sacrifice. The moment heâd been dreaming of since he was a kid. And yet, as the car slowed and the team surrounded him, lifting him up in celebration, Kyle felt his chest tighten. The elation, the excitementâit was all there, but it felt hollow. Empty.
He had done it. Third World Champion.
But all he could think of was the constant ache in his eyes. The weight of the title felt less like a triumph and more like a fleeting moment that he couldnât hold on to. His heart should have been racing with joy, but instead, there was only a lingering dread.
Ludwig clapped him on the back, laughing as the champagne sprayed in the air. âWe did it, man! Third timeâs a charm!â
Kyle forced a smile, but it didnât reach his eyes. âYeah, third time,â he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ludwig, ever the optimist, didnât notice the strain in Kyleâs tone. âI know youâve had your doubts, but youâve proven everyone wrong. Youâre the best.â
But Kyle couldnât shake the feeling that the victory was tainted. It wasnât just the strain in his body, the tiredness in his limbs. It was deeper. His hands were shaking as he held the trophy. The world around him spun in a blur, and he couldnât help but think: For how long? For how much longer could he keep doing this?
He smiled for the cameras, gave his thank-yous, but his mind was elsewhere. It was a lie. He had won, yes, but the victory was nothing more than a hollow achievement, a moment that felt like it could slip through his fingers at any time.
As he stood there, surrounded by the adoration of his team, the press, and the fans, he couldnât stop thinking about the futureâwhat came after this? When the fame and the lights dimmed, when he could no longer race at the top of his game, where would he be? What would he be left with?
A hand clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned, finding Ludwig grinning at him, eyes sparkling. âLetâs take it in, man,â he said. âYouâre the World Champion. For the third time. Enjoy it.â
Kyle nodded, but it felt like his heart wasnât fully in it. He gave a weak smile and looked at the trophy again, the weight of it feeling more like a chain than a symbol of victory.
The next race would be the final one, the last of the season. Kyle had one more chance to prove himself, to leave everything on the track. But for all his focus, all his dedication, all his fightâit all felt overshadowed by one thing: the looming uncertainty about his future.
He had won. Yes. But at what cost?
The celebration had faded into the background as the evening wore on. The champagne-soaked atmosphere of the paddock had dimmed, the cheers of victory now distant echoes. Kyle made his way through the crowd, his steps heavy despite the win that should have been filling him with elation. The trophy felt cold in his hands now, a symbol of something that no longer brought him the joy it once did.
He found Christian in a quiet corner of the garage, a man who had been with him through the highs and lows of his career. The team principal had always been more than just a boss to Kyle. Christian had been a mentor, a friend, even a father figure at times. Their relationship had always been built on mutual respect, and Kyle knew this wasnât going to be an easy conversation.
Christian was standing by the window, looking out at the lights of the city, his back to Kyle as he took a long swig of water from a bottle. Kyle hesitated for a moment before walking over. Christian didnât turn around right away, but he must have sensed his presence.
"You did it, Kyle," Christian said, his voice low but proud, even without looking. "Third world title. You earned this one. Deserved every bit of it."
Kyle stood there for a moment, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. He wanted to celebrate. He should have been celebrating. But the words he was about to speak would mark the end of an era for him, and it was hard to shake that feeling of finality.
Finally, he spoke, his voice thick with emotion. "Christian... Iâm leaving."
Christian turned slowly, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, though he didnât look surprised. His eyes were tired, but they held a depth of understanding, as if he had known this moment was coming. He set his water bottle down on the counter and folded his arms, his gaze steady but gentle.
âYouâre serious, then,â Christian said, his tone not questioning but more of a quiet confirmation.
Kyle nodded, his grip tightening around the trophy. âYeah. Iâve been thinking about it for a while now. This race... itâs the last one for me with Lamborghini.â
Christian exhaled slowly, his expression softening. There was no anger, no disappointment, just acceptance. âI wonât lie, Kyle. I didnât expect this, not after everything weâve been through. But I understand. Iâve seen how hard this season has been on you. More than just the racing.â
Kyle felt a lump form in his throat, the words harder to get out than he thought. "Iâve been fighting with myself for months now. Iâm not the same driver I used to be. I canât... I canât keep racing under this pressure. I want to remember racing as something thatâs just fun. When it wasnât about titles, when it was about the love for the sport. Itâs hard to feel that anymore when every race feels like Iâm running out of time. Iâm not sure how much longer I can keep up with the constant grind."
Christian nodded, his gaze never leaving Kyleâs face. "I know. And itâs been hard to watch. I know whatâs been going on with your eyes. The migraines. The strain. But Kyle..." Christianâs voice softened, a rare vulnerability creeping in. "Youâre more than just a driver. Youâre family to this team. Youâve given everything to Lamborghini, and itâs given you everything back. I respect whatever decision you make, but I hope you know youâre always welcome here, no matter what happens next."
Kyleâs chest tightened, and the words were almost a whisper. "I donât want to leave. But I have to. I canât keep pretending like Iâm in control when Iâm not. I need something different. A new challenge."
Christian took a moment, his eyes scanning Kyle's face, as if searching for something. He exhaled slowly. "Well, I wonât stop you. Youâve earned the right to make this choice. But I will say thisâyouâve always been one of the greatest Iâve had the pleasure of working with. No matter what happens, youâll always be part of the Lamborghini family."
Kyleâs eyes softened, the weight of the conversation pressing on him, but there was a relief in hearing those words. It wasnât an end he had expected, but a mutual understanding. A respect that transcended titles and trophies.
"Thank you, Christian. That means more than you know."
Christian nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Just remember, Kyle, you donât have to do this alone. Whatever comes next, youâve got a team behind you. And thatâs not something that changes with the color of the car you drive."
Kyle stood there, feeling a quiet sense of closure. The decision was made, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like he was on the right path, even if he didnât know where it led yet.
After a beat, Christian slapped him lightly on the back. "Now, go celebrate, World Champion. Youâve earned it."
Kyle gave a small, genuine smile before walking out of the room. But this time, it wasnât a smile full of forced joy. It was one of quiet resolve. The future was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he had control over it.
After the adrenaline of the Vegas race had faded, the sound of champagne bottles popping and cheers from the paddock had died down, Kyle found himself in a quieter corner of the track, taking a moment to breathe. The weight of the victory felt heavy in his chest, but it wasnât the joy he had imagined. It was exhaustionâmentally, physically, emotionally.
As he leaned against a cool wall, his mind spinning, a familiar figure approached. Seb, the Audi Team Principal, walked over with a calm smile, but Kyle could see the question in his eyes, the anticipation for this conversation.
"You did it again," Seb said with a nod, his voice tinged with admiration. "World Champion, three times. Thatâs no small feat."
Kyle forced a grin, the fatigue still pulling at his features. "Yeah, but this one doesnât feel the same."
Seb raised an eyebrow but didnât press further. Instead, he moved closer. "Iâve been thinking," Seb began, leaning in just enough to convey the seriousness of what he was about to say. "I want you with Audi next season. Weâve got big plans, and youâre the missing piece."
Kyle felt the weight of the offer settle around him. Audi. The team that had been growing, developing their own power in the sport. Romyâs team. The prospect was alluring, but Kyle hesitated, not out of lack of interest, but because of the constant pressure that had been part of every deal heâd ever made since he was a teenager.
"I⊠I donât know," Kyle muttered, shaking his head. "I donât want to keep racing for the titles anymore. Iâve done it all. Iâm not sure I can keep doing it, Seb. Not the way itâs been."
Seb studied him, his face a mixture of curiosity and understanding. "Youâre saying you donât want to race for the same things anymore? For the trophies? For the championship?"
Kyleâs gaze drifted toward the paddock, where the celebrations were still going on, people cheering, and the photographers snapping photos of every victory. It all felt so hollow now. The pressure to always be the best, to always outperform, to never stop. It was wearing him down.
"No," Kyle replied quietly, his voice cracking slightly. "I want to race because I love it. Not because Iâm expected to win. I want to do one last year, Seb. Not with the same weight, not with the same expectations. I want it to be fun again."
Seb gave him a moment to let the words settle. He had known Kyle for years and understood the grind, the pressure that came with being a champion. But he could also see the passion in Kyleâs eyesâthe same passion that had brought him to the top in the first place. Seb wasnât going to let that fade away if he could help it.
"I get it," Seb said softly, placing a hand on Kyleâs shoulder. "But you know, Audi could give you that. We have a good team, a different environment. And with Romy by your side, you can find that spark again. The two of you togetherâthereâs potential there, Kyle."
Kyle looked at Seb, the thought of teaming up with Romy next season floating in his mind. It would be different. There would still be challenges, but it felt right. There would be a comfort in knowing she was there, a reassurance that, even though the racing world was intense, at least he wouldnât be doing it alone.
But still, doubts lingered. "And if I fail?" Kyle asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Sebâs answer was quick and resolute. "You wonât fail. Not if you stop seeing this as a race for survival. Do it for the love of the sport. Do it because itâs fun again. And if you do that, the results will come. I believe in you, Kyle."
Kyle looked at Seb for a long moment. There was sincerity in his eyes, an understanding that Kyle wasnât the same person who had joined Lamborghini years ago, fighting for a seat. He was different now. Wiser, more self-aware. And maybe, just maybe, Audi could offer him a new pathâa path where racing wasnât about being the best. It was about rediscovering the joy.
âIâll think about it,â Kyle finally said, his words heavy with the weight of the decision. He needed time to reflect, to process everything.
Seb gave a nod, satisfied with Kyleâs answer. "Take your time. But just knowâwhen you're ready, the seat is waiting."
The Melbourne Grand Prix was electric, but there was a quiet kind of tension in the air that only Kyle seemed to feel. It was the last race of the season. His last race with Lamborghini. The final time heâd feel the familiar hum of the white and light blue car beneath him, the last time heâd cross the line as part of this family. The weight of it was suffocating at times, but when the lights went out, all of that faded away. For the first time in months, Kyle could focus purely on the track, the way the tires gripped the asphalt, the sound of the engine singing in perfect harmony with his pulse.
This wasnât about the world title. This wasnât about the legacy. This race was for himâjust for him. It felt like a return to why he fell in love with racing in the first place: the raw, unfiltered joy of it. For so long, everything had been about the pressure, about proving something, about always striving for more. But in Melbourne, as the race unfolded in front of him, there was a clarity he hadnât felt in years.
He didnât care about winning in the traditional sense. Sure, it mattered, but it was no longer the driving force behind every turn, every lap. It wasnât the points, the podium, or the championship that made his heart raceâit was the purity of the competition itself. That feeling, that rush of adrenaline, of connection to the car and the track, was what had kept him going all these years. And now, as the checkered flag waved and the roar of the engine finally quieted, he realized that he had rediscovered it.
Kyle crossed the finish line, the win still sinking in. His hands were shaking as he gripped the steering wheel, a mix of relief and bittersweet nostalgia flooding him. The victory felt hollow in some ways, but incredibly freeing in others.
As he stepped out of the car, the world seemed to slow down. He waved at the crowd, his chest tight with emotion, but his gaze quickly sought out the people who meant the most to him. He caught sight of Ludwig and Ethan, both of them already making their way to the podium, but it was Romy he found first. She was standing just outside the paddock, her eyes locked on him. The smile she gave him wasnât one of triumph; it was a smile that held understanding, that said everything without saying a word.
The podium ceremony was a blurâcameras flashing, champagne spraying, and the sound of victory echoing in his ears. But none of it felt like it did before. None of it was the same. He looked to Ludwig, who was beside him, his usual grin tempered by something softer, more reflective.
âLast one with Lambo, huh?â Ludwig said quietly, almost as if testing the words on his tongue. âItâs hard to imagine the team without you in the car. But youâve earned the right to go out on your terms.â
Kyle nodded, his throat thick, his eyes tracing Ludwigâs face as he realized how much theyâd all been through together. The wins, the losses, the moments of frustration, the moments of triumph. Theyâd been a team. And that was something that couldnât be replaced. But it wasnât just the team heâd miss. It was the connection to the sport, the way it felt like home, the way it felt like everything had clicked the first time he raced for Lamborghini.
Ethan, standing next to them, gave Kyle a quiet but knowing look. There was no need for words; the years of friendship, of racing side by side, were all contained in that single look. The pressure of the race season had been brutal, but this moment felt different. It was the kind of camaraderie that couldnât be replicated.
âWhatever comes next, weâve got your back,â Ethan said, his voice low but full of meaning. âAlways have, always will.â
Kyleâs chest tightened, a lump forming in his throat. He glanced at Ethan, then back at Ludwig, and finally at Romy, who was watching from the sidelines. He realized, in that instant, that this was more than just the end of a season. It was the end of a chapter of his lifeâa chapter full of ambition and fear and fighting for something bigger than himself. But now, he was stepping into a new world, one that would be defined not by titles or expectations but by what he truly wanted.
And what he wanted, above all else, was to find joy in the thing he loved most.
As the final spray of champagne fell over him, Kyleâs mind wasnât on the celebration. It wasnât on the world title or the future. It was on the people who had been with him every step of the wayâon Ludwig, on Ethan, on Romy. On the moments theyâd shared, and the journey that still lay ahead.
He wasnât sure what the future held, but for the first time in a long while, he felt at peace with that uncertainty.
After the race, Kyle found a quiet corner in the paddock, away from the noise of the celebration and the cheers that echoed in his ears. His world title was secure, and the joy of victory still lingered, but there was something else gnawing at him, something that needed to be said.
Romy was sitting nearby, talking to a few team members, but she looked up as soon as Kyle approached. Her expression softened, a smile curving on her lips when she saw him. But there was something different in his eyesâsomething she couldnât quite place.
He stood in front of her, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, a nervous energy crackling between them. There was no grand speech, no build-up. Just the weight of the moment hanging in the air.
âIâve signed with Audi for next season,â Kyle said quietly, his voice low, almost uncertain.
Romyâs face froze. Her smile faltered, replaced by a flicker of confusion as she tried to process his words. "Audi?" she echoed, not fully understanding what he meant. "Waitâwhat? Kyle... youâre leaving Lamborghini?"
He nodded, the look on his face unyielding despite the storm inside him. âYeah. Iâm leaving. Iâll be racing with Audi next year... alongside you.â
The words hung between them like a sudden storm. Romy blinked, her mind scrambling to catch up. This wasnât what she expectedânot in the slightest. She knew Audi had made their move, but hearing Kyle say it out loud, seeing the determination in his eyesâit felt like everything was shifting beneath her feet.
âI didnât... I didnât think youâd actually do it,â Romy murmured, her voice a mixture of shock and disbelief. âI thought youâd stay. With Lamborghini. I thought thisâthis was your team, Kyle.â
Kyle took a step closer, trying to steady his own racing heart. âIt was. It is. But... I donât know. I canât keep doing this. I want to race, Romy, but I want to do it differently. I want to enjoy it again. I want to remember why I fell in love with this in the first place.â
Her eyes searched his face, the disbelief still clouding her mind. âBut Kyle... Audi? With me?â She stepped back slightly, uncertainty flooding her chest. âYouâre going to be racing with me... Weâve never been teammates, you know? And weâve always... weâve always been competing.â
He nodded slowly, understanding her concerns. He could see the fear in her eyes, the worry starting to build. âI know it changes things. But I think itâs the only way. I want us to be in this together. No more pressure, no more fear of losing everything. I donât want to race with that weight on my shoulders anymore. I want to race with you, not against you.â
Romyâs mind was spinning. Her pulse raced in her ears as she tried to make sense of it all. She hadnât seen this comingânot in a million years. Kyle, leaving Lamborghini? Racing for another team? And with her?
Fear twisted in her stomach as she struggled to form words. âBut⊠but what if it changes everything between us? What if... What if itâs too much? Youâre my teammate, Kyle. Weâll be sharing everythingâthe track, the decisions, the strategy. Itâs not just a race anymore. Itâs everything.â
Her voice wavered with vulnerability, the fear of what this could mean for them, for their relationship, creeping in. She had always known that racing was something theyâd have to navigate, but now? Now it was right in front of them, unavoidably real.
Kyle saw the worry in her eyes and softened, stepping closer. âRomy, I know itâs scary. I get it. But I donât want to lose us. And this⊠this isnât about pressure anymore. Itâs not about competition, not in the way weâre used to. I want to enjoy it again. I want to be with you, not just in the paddock but in the way we both deserve. I want to be with you in a way that we never have been before.â
There was a pause, long and heavy. Romy could feel her heart racing, but as Kyleâs words sank in, a new feeling began to stir in her chest. She wasnât sure what the future held, wasnât sure how this would change things for them, but there was something undeniably exciting in the idea of being on the same team.
Her gaze softened, and a hesitant smile tugged at the corner of her lips. âYouâre serious, arenât you?â Her voice cracked slightly, a laugh mixed with disbelief escaping her. âYou want this? With me?â
Kyle reached out, taking her hand gently in his, the weight of their connection undeniable now. âYeah. Iâm serious. I want to do this with you. Together.â
Romy exhaled shakily, her emotions a whirlwind as she looked into his eyes. There was a warmth there, a softness that she hadnât seen in him for a long time. And for the first time that night, the fear started to ebb away, replaced by something elseâsomething she hadnât expected but now felt deep in her chest.
âI never thought weâd get here,â she whispered, a smile finally breaking through the tension. âI never thought weâd be teammates.â
Kyle squeezed her hand. âI guess thatâs why it feels so right.â
They stood there in the quiet of the garage, the noise of the victory celebrations far away, just the two of them, navigating the moment together. It wasnât perfect, and there were still so many unknowns ahead, but for the first time in a long time, Kyle felt like he was heading in the right direction. And Romy? She felt the same.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The noise of the paddock, the hum of the crowd, felt miles away. It was just the two of them in their own quiet worldâone that had been built on chaos, love, hurt, and everything in between. The silence wasnât uncomfortable, but it was heavy, filled with all the things they hadnât said yet.
Finally, Romy spoke, her voice low, almost unsure. âKyleâŠâ
His heart lurched at the sound of her voice, a quiet tremor that caught him off guard. He turned to face her, and for the first time in a while, he saw herânot the racer, not the teammate, but her. Vulnerable. Exposed.
âWhat is it?â His voice cracked just a little, betraying the knot of tension in his chest. He was trying to keep it together, but every part of him knew something was coming.
She took a deep breath, her hands twisting together in front of her, her eyes not quite meeting his. âIâve been thinking. A lot. About us, about everything weâve been through. The mess, the races, the wins, the losses, the times weâve hurt each other⊠but also the times weâve kept fighting for this, for us.â Her voice faltered for a second before she pressed on. âI donât want us to keep... just racing through life, Kyle. I donât want us to keep pretending that weâre okay with being in this limbo. Itâs not enough anymore.â
Kyleâs stomach dropped, something about her tone hitting him deeper than he expected. It wasnât just about the racesâit was about everything. He felt the weight of it. Every emotion, every ounce of doubt, every unsaid word between them.
âRomyâŠâ He swallowed, his voice faltering. âWhat are you trying to say?â
Her gaze lifted to meet his, steady now, but there was something in her eyes that made his pulse quicken. Something raw, something real.
âI want more, Kyle. I donât want to live in the in-between anymore. I want us to stop running from this. To stop pretending itâs all just temporary.â Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and her hand reached out to touch his arm, grounding herself. âI want you to move in with me.â
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. Move in with her? He hadnât been prepared for thisâhe hadnât even thought about what that meant, not in any serious way. Sure, theyâd talked about the future in passing, but this was different. This was real.
Kyle stepped back slightly, trying to make sense of what she had just said. The rush of emotions overwhelmed him. He wasnât sure whether to laugh or to cry, but everything in him was suddenly on edge.
âWait⊠what?â His voice came out rough, his heart pounding against his ribcage. âYou want me to move in with you? Now?â
Romy gave a small, nervous laugh, but it was shakyâshe could see the disbelief on his face. âYeah, now.â She squeezed his hand tighter. âI know weâve always been caught up in the whirlwind, but after all of it, after all the stuff weâve gone through, I donât want to be just in the background of your life anymore. I want to be in the front. I want to build something with you. A real life. Not just a race.â
Kyleâs throat tightened, his thoughts running wild. This wasnât a race. This wasnât a moment he could just push through with adrenaline. This was something else, something far more intimate, more significant. And yet, his first instinct was fearâfear of what it would mean, fear of messing it up, fear of the unknown.
But as the words settled, Kyle realized something. He had always known he wanted this. He had always imagined a future with her. She was the one, the only one, who made him feel like he could take on the world and still find peace in the quiet moments. He had always seen her in his lifeâhe just hadnât expected her to take this step first. But here she was, asking him for something more than just a fleeting connection.
âIâŠâ He trailed off, his heart pounding, his emotions tangled. âI never thought Iâd hear you say that. Iâve always known... Iâve always known I wanted a future with you. But youââ His voice broke slightly as he looked at her, the reality of what she was offering finally hitting him. âYou were always the one holding back, always the one making the steps, the big decisions⊠but I never stopped imagining us.â
Romyâs eyes softened, her face flushed with a mix of vulnerability and hope. âI know, Kyle. I know Iâve been scared. But I donât want to be scared anymore. I want this. With you. For real.â
He took a deep breath, his mind racing with everything theyâd been through, all the highs, all the lows. His hand found hers again, his grip firm but tender. âIâm in, Romy. Iâve always been in. I just didnât expect⊠I didnât expect this moment to feel so real, so right.â
She smiled softly, her eyes welling with emotion. âIâm glad it feels right.â She squeezed his hand. âWeâve been running, weâve been so caught up in the race, but I want us to stop and just be here. With each other. For real.â
Kyle nodded, the weight of it all suddenly lifting. Everything that had once seemed uncertain, now felt like a foundation, something they could build on together. âWeâll build it together, Romy. Iâm here. Iâm yours. Always.â
Romy leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was softer than any they had shared before. It wasnât a kiss of passion or triumphâit was a kiss of understanding. A promise of something more than racing, something far deeper, something permanent.
And in that moment, Kyle knewâthey were no longer just racing toward a future. They had already begun to build it, together.
Author's note : And with that, King of my Heart comes to an end. Don't worry there is still the epilogue.
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28. I won't give up on us even if the skies get rough
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack : I wonât give up - Jason MrazÂ
The neon lights of the Las Vegas Strip glared against the black sky, a chaotic blur of color. Kyle had always loved the energy of the cityâits wild pulse, its constant movement. It was the perfect escape for someone like him, who thrived on speed, on adrenaline. But tonight, everything felt different. It was as though the lights themselves were blinding him, their brilliance only making his growing sense of dread that much worse.
The sound of his own breath was louder in his ears than the noise of the crowd. He stood just outside his suite, a hand gripping the balcony railing. The sharp sting of a migraine had seized him again, far more intense than usual. He was trying to fight it, but the familiar feeling of his vision starting to blur was undeniable. The edges of his world swam in and out of focus.
âNot now,â Kyle muttered under his breath, pressing a hand to his forehead. He had pushed through so many of these attacks before, always knowing there was a chance that his vision could go again, that his career could end as suddenly as it had begun. But this time⊠it was different. It felt stronger, more violent, like something inside him was screaming to get out, to break free.
A knock at the door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts, and he barely registered it. He was too deep in his panic. The door swung open, and there she was. Romy, standing in the hallway, her face full of concern as she took one look at him and saw everything she needed to.
"Kyle," she said softly, her voice laced with worry. "Whatâs wrong?"
He didnât say anything. Instead, he turned, his back against the balcony, trying to steady himself. The words were trapped in his throat, and his hands shook. Romyâs eyes scanned his face, and she knew immediately. The familiar signs. The uncertainty. The tension that was all too present.
âYour eyes againâŠâ she whispered, her voice breaking just a little.
Kyleâs hands shook violently, and he couldnât seem to control his breathing. His face was pale, his eyes wide with terror, as he took a step toward her, his voice coming out in a strangled, frantic rush.
"Romy... please," he begged, his words tumbling out, fast and jagged, as if each one was a plea for his sanity to hold. "I canâtâI canât keep doing this. IâI canât see anymore, not like I used to. The migrainesâtheyâre worse. My visionâs blurring. Itâs like the world is fading away from me. You... youâre fading." His voice cracked on the last word, and he looked at her like she was slipping through his fingers.
The panic was raw in his voice, an overwhelming, suffocating fear that he couldnât control. "Iâm losing everything, Romy. I can feel itâfeel it all slipping through. My career, my life, my damn eyesight. And if I lose you, too... I canâtâI canât live with that. I canât lose you. Please, marry me." His eyes burned with a mixture of terror and desperation, and the words left his mouth before he could stop them. "Marry me tonight. Right now. Before I lose everything. Before I canât see you anymore. I need to know you're mine, that youâll be with me, even if everything else falls apart."
His voice broke on the last sentence, and he almost collapsed into her, reaching out with trembling hands, as if physically trying to hold onto her before his world crumbled. âPlease, Romy, please. I donât care about anything else. I just need to know I wonât lose you too.â
His eyes were wide and pleading, desperate for her to understand the depth of his panic, the ache that was eating away at him. His body felt like it was on fire with fear, and he was clinging to her, to this idea of marriage, like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality. But it wasnât romantic. It wasnât sweet. It was pure, unadulterated panic.
Romy froze, her breath catching in her throat. This wasnât how she had imagined it, not how she had dreamed of the moment they would decide their future. This wasnât love. This was fear. This was the broken, trembling version of Kyle, scared and desperate for something to hold onto, to make sure he wouldnât fall apart completely.
She shook her head, slowly, her voice trembling as she spoke, almost in a whisper. âKyle... no. No, I canât.â
He stepped forward again, his eyes wide and frantic. "Romy, please, donâtâdonât leave me with nothing. Donât leave me with nothing but this damn darkness." His words spilled out, his face crumpling, his voice full of heartbreak and despair. âI canât... I canât see you anymore, Romy. I canât even see you. IâI donât know whatâs happening to me. And Iâm terrified Iâll never see your face again, that I wonât get to look into your eyes... God, please, I canât go through this alone. I need you. I need to know youâre with me. Right now. Please.â
His hands shook as they reached for hers again, but Romy instinctively pulled back, her heart breaking even more with each movement he made. The look on his face was one she never thought sheâd seeâthe raw vulnerability, the desperation. He wasnât Kyle, the confident racer who always knew what to do. This was a man on the edge, grasping at anything to stop himself from falling.
Romyâs chest tightened, and she swallowed hard. The words she needed to say caught in her throat, her own tears threatening to spill, but she couldnât. Not now. Not like this.
âKyle... I love you,â she whispered, her voice cracking, âbut I canât marry you out of fear. I canât marry you because youâre scared. Not like this. I want to be with you. I want a future with you. But not when itâs born from panic. I wonât marry you out of fear of losing me. Thatâs not love, Kyle. Thatâs... thatâs just you trying to hold onto something, anything, before it all slips away.â
Kyleâs face twisted in agony, and his hands fell to his sides as if all the strength had left him. âI donât know what else to do, Romy,â he whispered, almost broken. âIâm falling apart. Everythingâs falling apart. I canât see... I canât... I canât see you, and I canât imagine my life without you. How do I go on like this? How do I... how do I live in a world where youâre not with me?â His voice broke again, raw and pained. âPlease... please donât leave me, Romy. I canât... I canât lose you too.â
His words shattered her heart, and she wanted to throw herself into his arms, to tell him everything would be okay, to reassure him that they would fight this together. But she couldnât. Not when the proposal wasnât about love. Not when it was about fear.
âIâm sorry,â she whispered, the words so small against the weight of what she was feeling. âI love you, but I canât marry you like this. Not because youâre scared. Not because youâre afraid of what you might lose.â
She turned, the tears she had been holding back now falling freely as she walked away, her heart breaking with every step she took away from him. But she couldnât stay. Not like this. Not in the middle of his fear. Not when it wasnât real.
And Kyle... Kyle stood there, trembling, watching her leave, his heart breaking into pieces, knowing he had lost her, too.
He stepped back, a broken, confused look on his face, as though he couldnât comprehend why she wasnât saying yes. âYouâre saying no?â His voice was barely above a whisper, and the weight of it crushed her. She hated seeing him like this. But this wasnât right.
He shook his head, almost in disbelief, and she could see the hurt in his eyes, the deep cut he wasnât sure how to heal. "But I canât lose you. I donât know what Iâd do if I lose you."
Romyâs heart cracked as she took a step back, her chest aching. She couldnât stay in this moment, couldnât let this decision come from his panic. She turned and walked away, her tears threatening to spill over. âI need space, Kyle. Iâm sorry.â
The moment Romy walked away, leaving him standing there in the dimly lit hallway, Kyle felt a hollow ache deep inside him. It wasnât just the shock of her refusal. No, it was everythingâthe weight of all the emotions that had been suffocating him for weeks now. His vision. The migraines. The constant fear that had been eating away at him, gnawing at the edges of his mind, reminding him that he wasnât in control anymore. That someday soon, he might not see anything at all.
He had always been strong. He had always been the one who could handle the pressure, who could push through the worst of it. But now? Now, his body was betraying him. His legs felt weak, like they might buckle under him any moment, and his chest tightened with each shaky breath he took.
God, he had just asked Romy to marry him. Not out of love. Not out of the dreams theyâd shared for the future. No, he had asked her because he was terrifiedâterrified of losing everything, especially her. The panic had consumed him, and he had let it take over, making him do something he wasnât ready for. And she had turned him down. She had looked at him with those sad eyes, and she had refused.
She was right. God, she was right.
His throat tightened as the tears he hadnât been able to hold back threatened to spill over. But he couldnât let himself cry. He couldnât. Not here. Not now. Not in front of her.
But as his legs buckled, and the pain of his broken heart hit him with the force of a freight train, he realized he was losing control. His vision was blurryâno, worse than blurry. Everything felt like it was spinning. Like the walls were closing in on him. His hand shot out, desperately grabbing at the nearest wall to steady himself, but it felt like his body wasnât responding. It wasnât enough.
The world was too much.
He staggered forward, his mind a jumbled mess. He needed to find someone. Someone who could understand. Someone who wouldnât see him as weak. Ethan. He needed to find Ethan. The only person who had been there for him when it all started to unravel, the only person who knew the real fear behind all the bravado.
Stumbling down the hallway, his vision still swimming, Kyle finally reached the door to Ethanâs room. His hand slammed against it, knocking harder than he intended, but the pressure of his own panic made him reckless. The door swung open, and Ethan appeared in the doorway, his hair messy, eyes still half-closed from sleep.
âWhat the hell, man?â Ethan groaned, clearly still groggy from being woken up in the middle of the night. âWhatâs going on?â
But Kyle didnât know how to answer. His chest heaved as his breath came in short, jagged bursts. He couldnât form the words, couldnât explain the storm raging inside him. He had been in control of his career, of his image, of everything that matteredâuntil now. And now he felt like he was losing everything.
Ethanâs expression shifted immediately, his eyes sharpening as he took in Kyleâs pale face, the sweat beading on his forehead, the way he was swaying on his feet. Something was wrong.
âJesus, Kyle,â Ethan muttered, his voice thick with concern. âWhat the hell happened?â
âIââ Kyleâs words came out strangled. He tried to steady himself, but his legs wouldnât hold. He couldnât see clearly anymore, couldnât even focus on Ethanâs face in front of him.
Before Kyle could stop himself, his legs gave way entirely, and he crumpled to the floor. Ethan rushed forward, catching him before he hit the ground.
âHey! Hey, you alright?â Ethanâs voice was sharp with alarm. He crouched down next to Kyle, pulling him up by the shoulders, trying to get a better look at him.
âI⊠I canâtâŠâ Kyle gasped, his breath hitching. âItâs all⊠too muchâŠâ
Ethanâs hand was warm on his back, rubbing slow circles, grounding him in the moment. âYou need to breathe, Kyle. Focus on breathing, alright? Youâre gonna be okay.â
But Kyle could barely hear him over the ringing in his ears, the weight of everything crashing down on him. The pressure in his head felt unbearable, the familiar pain of the migraines coming back with a vengeance. His body trembled, and his hands were shaking as he reached out to grab Ethanâs arm, desperate for some stability.
âI⊠I canât do this,â Kyle whispered, his voice broken, his eyes welling with tears he hadnât allowed himself to shed. âI canât lose everything. I canât lose⊠her. I canât lose myself.â
Ethanâs face softened, his grip on Kyle tightening, a silent reassurance. âKyle, listen to me. Youâre not losing everything. Youâre not losing her. Youâre not alone in this. Youâve never been alone, and you donât have to be now.â
Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the overwhelming sense of dread, but it was impossible. âI canât⊠I canât even see straight. Iâm losing it, Ethan.â
Ethan didnât hesitate. âYouâre not losing it, man. Youâve been through worse. Youâve handled worse. And youâve got people who care about youâpeople who are gonna help you through this.â
Kyleâs chest hitched, his breath coming out in a shaky sob. âI thought I had control over everything⊠over my life⊠over my futureâŠâ
âYou donât have to have control over everything,â Ethan replied quietly, pulling Kyle into a tight hug. âYouâre human, Kyle. And sometimes, you just gotta let go. Let us help you.â
Kyle clung to Ethan, not caring about the tears now streaming down his face. He didnât care about being strong or stoic. He just wanted to hold on to somethingâanythingâbefore he fell apart completely.
Kyleâs body trembled, his heart hammering against his ribcage. His mind was a storm of confusion, guilt, and the gnawing fear that had been eating him alive for weeks. But somewhere, deep down, a quiet voice whispered: She wonât leave you, Kyle. He couldnât explain why he felt that way, why it was so certain. It wasnât logic. It wasnât rational. He knew that Romy loved him, even if he had hurt her tonight.
But knowing it didnât make the fear go away. It didnât calm the desperate need inside him to fix this, to go to her right now, to make it right.
He was about to stand, his body already halfway up from the bed, when Ethanâs voice cut through the fog.
âYouâre not going anywhere,â Ethan said, his tone firm, but not harsh. He was watching Kyle closely, his eyes narrowing in concern. âNot tonight. Not in this state.â
Kyle froze, his hand gripping the edge of the mattress. âEthan, I need to talk to her. I need to fix this. I canât leave it like this. I canât...â
âYouâre not thinking straight,â Ethan interrupted gently. âYouâre scared. And I get it, I do. But Romy doesnât need you to fix this right now. She needs space to breathe. And you need rest, man. Youâre not gonna find clarity like this, not with your head all over the place. The more you push, the more you risk making things worse.â
Kyleâs chest tightened. His throat burned with unshed emotion, but he knew Ethan was right. His thoughts were scattered, his body worn thin with anxiety. And the worst part? He wasnât even sure what he wanted to say to Romy anymore. All he knew was that he couldnât let her go. Not like this.
âI⊠I donât know what to do, Ethan.â His voice cracked, the raw panic still evident. âIâm terrified. I fucked up. Iâm losing everything. I donât know what the hell is happening to me... I canât lose her, too.â
Ethanâs eyes softened, the worry in them giving way to a quiet understanding. âKyle... you didnât lose her. Not because of this. But you will lose her if you donât take a step back. You canât run at this with your heart this frantic. You have to calm down first. If you really love herâand I know you doâthen youâll give her the space to think. And youâll give yourself the time to find clarity. Youâll both need it.â
Kyleâs hands clenched into fists, frustration bubbling to the surface. He hated feeling this out of control, hated that his own mind was betraying him like this. But Ethanâs words carried weight. Kyle had been there for him during his worst moments, and right now, Ethan was there for him.
After a long silence, Kyle finally slumped back onto the bed, rubbing his hands over his face. âI donât know if I can do that. I just⊠I need her. I need to make this right. Now.â
âI know. But youâve got to wait, Kyle. Youâve got to let her breathe and let yourself breathe. This doesnât end here.â Ethan paused, then added, his voice a little quieter, âDonât make decisions out of panic. Youâll regret it.â
Kyle nodded, though the discomfort of staying put gnawed at him. But deep down, beneath the chaos, there was a flicker of understanding. Ethan was right. He had to breathe. He had to gather himself. Romy would be okay. She needed time, and he needed time to calm down.
He exhaled shakily, sinking back into the bed. His thoughts were still spinning, the dread not quite gone, but for the first time tonight, Kyle allowed himself to close his eyes. He wasnât losing her. But he had to let go of the panic. Just for a while.
Kyle lay there in the silence, his body still trembling but no longer on the edge of action. The weight of the night pressed down on him, but Ethanâs words circled in his mind, like an anchor pulling him back from the storm inside. He had to let go, just for now. He had to trust that this wasnât the end.
Ethan watched him carefully, his posture tense, but his eyes understanding. Kyle had been a constant for him in the pastâalways the one who knew what to do, who had the answers when Ethan was lost. It was strange, seeing Kyle so raw, so unmoored. But Ethan knew this wasnât the first time Kyle had been tested, and it wouldnât be the last. If anyone could find his way through this, it was him. But he needed time.
âYouâve got her,â Ethan said quietly, the confidence in his voice gentle but unwavering. âAnd sheâs not going anywhere.â
Kyleâs eyes flickered to him, the corners of his mouth twitching in a half-hearted attempt at a smile. He was exhaustedâphysically, emotionallyâbut still, deep down, there was that nagging hope. Ethan was right. Romy wouldnât leave him over this. She loved him. That much, Kyle knew.
He exhaled slowly, trying to push the knot of tension in his chest lower. "Yeah. I know. I just⊠I canât help this feeling. Itâs like everythingâs slipping away. First my sight, then the racing, now her... Iâm terrified of losing everything.â
Ethan placed a hand on Kyle's shoulder, a grounding presence that calmed the whirlwind inside. âI get it, man. I do. Sheâs not walking away from you. And you need to give her the time she needs. You canât fix this tonight. Just⊠take a step back.â
Kyle closed his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing, on the steadiness Ethanâs voice had brought him. Slowly, his heart rate began to settle, though his mind was still a whirlwind. But for once, he wasnât rushing toward anything. He wasnât running.
The weight of his panic started to liftâjust enough for him to feel something else beneath it: guilt, sorrow, the fear of what had just happened with Romy. But that fear wasnât enough to overpower the quiet voice in his mind that told him it wasnât the end.
âThanks,â Kyle muttered, his voice hoarse. âIâm just⊠so fucking scared, Ethan.â
âI know you are,â Ethan replied softly, his tone filled with sympathy. âBut youâve got this. Youâve got her. You just have to take it one step at a time. And maybe, just maybe, youâll find a way to make this right.â
Kyle nodded again, his gaze still focused on the ceiling as he tried to regain some semblance of control over himself. The panic that had gripped him earlier had lessened, but it hadnât disappeared. Not yet. But Ethan was right. He couldnât fix everything at once. He needed to breathe. He needed time. And most of all, he needed Romy to have the space she needed to think, to heal, to process.
âIâll talk to her tomorrow,â Kyle finally said, his voice stronger now. It wasnât a promise, but it was a decision. He had to give her space tonight, just like Ethan had said. And tomorrow? Tomorrow, he would figure out how to make things right. He wasnât going to lose her.
âGood,â Ethan said, his voice gentle but firm. âThatâs the right call. Now get some sleep. Youâre no good to her if youâre running on empty.â
Kyleâs lips pressed together in a tight smile. âYeah. Thanks, man.âAs the weight of the night settled into a quiet lull, Kyle closed his eyes and finally allowed himself to rest, knowing that tomorrow would come. Tomorrow, he would find the words to make it right. But for tonight, he would let go of the panic. Just for now.
Author's note :
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.
27. Some people want it all but I don't want nothing at all if it ain't you
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack : If I ainât got you - Alicia KeysÂ
As they drove up to Kyleâs family home, the contrast hit Romy like a punch to the gut. The sprawling farmhouse was nestled between endless fields, the simplicity of it starkly contrasting with the glossy, polished life she had left behind in Switzerland. She glanced down at her designer shoes, feeling them sink into the dirt driveway as she stepped out of the car. The heels, so familiar and comfortable in the city, felt out of place here.
Kyle gave her hand a gentle squeeze as they approached the front door, but his touch did little to calm the growing discomfort in her chest. This was a world she didnât know, a world that Kyle had grown up in but seemed to be slowly drifting away from. The moment the door opened, she saw his mother standing there, her expression giving nothing away but the tension that filled the air was undeniable.
âMom, this is Romy,â Kyle said, his voice slightly hesitant, as if even he could feel the rift between their worlds.
Romy offered a warm smile and extended her hand. âItâs lovely to meet you,â she said, doing her best to sound composed. But Kyleâs mother didnât offer her hand in return. Instead, her sharp eyes flicked up and down, scanning Romyâs perfectly tailored jacket, her designer sunglasses, and the polished, expensive scent of her perfume.
âI see Kyleâs taste hasnât changed,â she said coldly, her tone layered with meaning. She barely acknowledged Romyâs greeting, her gaze quickly shifting to Kyle as she stepped aside to let them in.
The house was modest, comfortable, and smelled faintly of wood and earth, a far cry from the sleek, modern interiors Romy was used to. She couldnât help but feel more out of place with each step.
Dinner was a painfully silent affair, the kind of silence that made Romyâs skin crawl. Kyleâs mother had prepared a simple mealâroast chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetablesâbut there was nothing simple about the undercurrent of animosity in the air.
âSo, Kyle tells me youâre a driver too,â Kyleâs mom said, breaking the silence but with a tone that was anything but welcoming. She passed Romy the bowl of mashed potatoes with a deliberate slowness, eyes narrowing slightly. âI guess thatâs how you keep busy, being in the same world as him. But I wonder, does all that racing really⊠suit you? I mean, itâs not exactly a lifestyle for a lady, is it?â
Romyâs heart sank, but she forced a smile. âIâve always enjoyed it,â she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.
Kyleâs mom didnât miss a beat. âMm. I suppose so. Though, I imagine someone like you might be more suited to a quiet life. A proper life. Not this⊠whirlwind Kyleâs caught up in.â She glanced over at Kyle, her eyes narrowing with something almost like disapproval. âI worry, you know. All that racing. The stress. The constant traveling. It canât be good for him. And youââ she shot a look at Romy, her gaze ice-cold ââyouâve been with him through all of this, havenât you? I just hope itâs not too much for him. You know, with his condition.â
Romy froze. Her stomach twisted as the words landed like a slap in the face. Her mind reeled. Sheâs blaming me. Sheâs blaming me for his health.
âMom, weâve talked about this,â Kyle said, his voice defensive, but there was a slight edge to it that Romy hadnât heard before. âRomy isnât the reason I have AMD. Itâs just the way it is. Weâve been through this.â
But his mother was relentless. âI know my son,â she said sharply, her voice lowering as she focused on Kyle. âIâve watched him push himself too hard for too long. And now, look at him. I just canât help but wonder if things would be different if he had someone moreâmore grounded. Someone who could help him stay away from all this. This lifestyle. Maybe then, he wouldnât be falling apart.â
Romy flinched at the words. It felt like every harsh syllable cut straight through her. She tried to keep her gaze steady, but she could feel her pulse racing, the bitterness of the accusation stinging her chest. She doesnât just hate me. She hates what I represent.
The tension in the room was suffocating. Romy looked at Kyle, but his expression was unreadable. He wanted to defend her, she could see that, but there was a hesitation in his eyes that made her stomach turn. She felt the weight of his motherâs judgment more than she ever had before.
Is this really how itâs going to be? Romy thought bitterly. Is she going to blame me every time Kyle struggles? Every time heâs in pain?
She glanced at her own hands, noticing how they were shaking slightly. Sheâd spent years building her career, her image, trying to prove herself worthy of the success she had, but none of it seemed to matter here. To Kyleâs mom, she wasnât Romy, the woman who had fought tooth and nail to get where she was. She was just a girl who didnât fit into the world Kyle had come fromâa world she didnât even understand.
And as the conversation continued around her, Romy couldnât shake the feeling that nothing she did would ever be enough for his mother. She wasnât from the right world, didnât understand the right values, and worst of allâshe was the one who had made Kyleâs health worse.
She bit down on the retort rising in her chest but kept quiet, trying to swallow the bitterness that threatened to rise. Kyleâs mom didnât care that she loved him. She didnât care about Romyâs devotion to him, her endless support, or her determination to be with him despite everything. In her eyes, Romy was just a symbol of everything that had taken Kyle away from the family she still believed he belonged to.
Kyle cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as he reached for Romyâs hand under the table. His fingers brushed against hers in a brief moment of support, but even that small comfort didnât feel like enough.
âMom, weâve been over this,â he said, trying to keep his tone steady, but his frustration was growing. âRomy is not the cause of my condition. I know you donât like the racing, but this is my life. This is what Iâve chosen, and itâs not because of her, okay?â
His motherâs gaze hardened, the disappointment clear in her eyes. âI just donât see how you could think this lifestyle is good for you, Kyle. Youâve changed. Youâre not the same boy I raised.â Her voice was soft, but the implication stung.
Romy squeezed Kyleâs hand, trying to steady herself. She had expected some resistance, some discomfort, but the hostility in his motherâs words was something she hadnât been prepared for.
She stood up suddenly, her chair scraping loudly against the wooden floor. âI think I need some air,â she said, her voice tight with emotion. Kyleâs concerned eyes followed her, but he didnât stop her. He knew she needed space. She needed to clear her head, before this became something worse.
As she stepped out onto the porch, the cool evening air hit her face, but it did little to soothe the burning frustration that threatened to boil over.
Iâm never going to be good enough for her, am I?
The thought settled in her chest like a heavy stone.
The race weekend had already started with an uncomfortable air, and Romy felt it the moment she stepped into the paddock. Kyleâs home race was supposed to be a time of excitement and pride, but it felt different now. His family, already a challenge to navigate, was all around. The bright lights and the hum of the race cars should have been enough to take her mind off things, but there was an undeniable heaviness to the atmosphere that she couldnât shake.
And then, out of nowhere, there she wasâHilary.
Seeing her in person was something else entirely. Hilary stood tall, effortlessly poised, in a tailored black dress and heels, a sharp contrast to the gritty, race-day environment. She wasnât here for the race. She was here for Kyle.
The moment Romy laid eyes on Hilary, she could feel the shift in the air. It wasnât just the fact that Hilary was stunning and impeccably confident, it was the way she carried herself. There was no doubt in Romyâs mind that Hilary had planned thisâshe wasnât here just to "support" Kyle. No, Hilary wanted something, and Romy could feel the intent in every gesture, in the way her gaze lingered on Kyle just a little too long, the way she leaned in close when they spoke.
Hilary wasnât just there for the race. She was there to remind everyone, including Romy, of the pastâthe past that Kyleâs mother wished was still the present.
It wasnât lost on Romy that Kyleâs mom had been the one who made sure Hilary had VIP paddock passes. Kyle hadnât invited her. That was clear. But his mother? She had orchestrated it, just as she had done with so many other things in Kyleâs life. "Kyle needs support from people who understand him," she had said. "Hilary knows him better than anyone."
The irony wasnât lost on Romy. Hilary was everything Kyleâs family wanted for him, everything Romy wasnât.
The race itself felt like an even greater chasm between the two worlds Kyle and Romy occupied. While Kyle was out on the track, living his dream, surrounded by his team and supporters, Romy was struggling to keep her car in the race.
Her vehicleâa relic from a season gone wrongâbarely held together as she wrestled with it on the track. The car wasnât the problemâit was a reflection of her current situation. Underperforming. Struggling. Trying to keep up.
Kyle, on the other hand, was in his element. The roar of the crowd, the steady hum of the engine under himâit was all perfection. Every lap, every moment on the track was flawless. He was making his family proud. His performance, as always, was incredible, and the cameras and media were eating it up.
As Romy pushed her underperforming car into the pit lane, she saw Kyleâs mom, standing proudly, her eyes trained on Kyle. Every cheer for him felt like another dagger in her chest. But what really stung was the way Kyleâs mother spoke of Hilary.
âShe always knew how to push Kyle to be his best,â she said to anyone who would listen, watching Kyle as he zoomed past. âThey were perfect together, you know. Iâve never seen him this focused since they were together.â
Romy clenched her fists, fighting the urge to turn away and retreat. Her mind kept replaying the words, They were perfect together. What did that make her?
Romyâs frustration reached its peak as the weekend dragged on. Kyle was surrounded by praise, adored by his team, his family, and the media. And then there was Hilary, who seemed to fit into Kyleâs world with effortless ease.
Every moment Hilary spent with Kyleâlaughing, reminiscing, holding his attentionâfelt like a silent message to Romy that she would never be the woman Kyleâs family wanted him to have. She wasnât enough. Not like Hilary.
And the worst part? Kyle didnât seem to notice.
When he wasnât racing, he was by Hilaryâs side, talking about the old days, their past, and their shared memories. He seemed so at ease with her, so natural, in a way that Romy could never be. Romy fought the gnawing voice in her head that told her she would never fit in with this world, this family. It was like they were all living in a world where she didnât existâwhere she didnât belong.
For the first time in a long while, Romy felt small. She was a city girl in a world of farming roots, a woman who didnât belong in this rural place, with this humble family. And worseâshe was the outsider in Kyleâs own life, someone who couldnât ever live up to the past that his mother would always hold dear.
As she watched Kyle and Hilary interact once more, Romy couldnât help but wonder if she had ever stood a chance at being the one to stand by his side in this world.
As the weekend unfolded, Romy couldnât escape the feeling of being an outsider in a world where she didnât belong. The more she watched Hilary interact with Kyle, the more she realized this wasnât just about the race. There was something else in the way Hilary moved around himâsomething far more familiar and far more dangerous.
Hilaryâs every glance at Kyle seemed to carry a hidden message, a reminder of a time when they had been the couple, the pair everyone had expected to last. The way her hand brushed Kyleâs arm as they spoke, the lingering smiles, and the way she leaned in when he laughedâit all felt like a reminder of what could have been. What should have beenâat least, according to his mother.
Romy didnât want to admit it, but it hurt. Every time Kyle smiled at Hilary or shared a moment with her, she felt a knot tighten in her chest. The woman before her wasnât just a blast from the pastâshe was the epitome of everything Kyleâs family would always want him to return to.
And Romy? She was the one standing in the shadows, out of place, surrounded by a world she could never truly understand.
The day had been longâtoo longâand Kyle was exhausted. The race weekend had already been a whirlwind of practice, interviews, and endless pressure. But today, with his home race behind him and a win under his belt, it felt like a different kind of chaos. The sound of the roaring engines still echoed in his ears, but his mind kept circling back to something else.
He walked out of the garage, the weight of his helmet in his hands a familiar comfort, but it wasnât enough to shake the tension gnawing at him. The win had felt amazing, but something about the day had been off. Maybe it was the pressure of performing in front of his hometown crowd. Or maybe it was because he couldnât shake the feeling that something was waiting to shift.
Kyle had already crossed paths with Hilary multiple times throughout the weekend. Sheâd been at the paddock, gliding through the VIP area, offering him smiles and casual congratulations, as though nothing had changed since they were together. At first, her presence didnât faze him; it was just a familiar face in a sea of new ones. But the more he interacted with her, the more he noticed how natural it felt to be around her againâalmost too natural.
Now, as he left the garage, feeling the weight of his victory, he spotted her standing near the edge of the paddock, watching him with that same knowing smile. She didnât wait for him to come over, instead taking a few steps toward him, her presence as smooth and effortless as always.
"Hey, Kyle," she said, her voice soft, yet with an edge of something more intimate, something inviting.
"Hey, Hilary," he replied, trying to mask the mix of emotions churning inside him. He had just won his race, but it felt like there was a storm brewing beneath the surface. Her gaze lingered on him just a beat longer than necessary, and it hit him that, in some ways, this wasn't just a casual greeting.
"You looked great out there," she said, her smile a little too perfect. "It must feel amazing to win your home race, huh?"
Kyle nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, it does. Itâs always a special one." But he couldnât shake the feeling that her words were layered with more than just polite congratulations.
"I bet," Hilary continued, taking a deliberate step closer, as if to emphasize her point. "But you always were a fighter, Kyle. Even when it was tough."
Kyle blinked, thrown off by the undercurrent in her tone. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Something deeper beneath the surface. "Yeah, well, racingâs all about perseverance."
She nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving his face. "And you're doing great. Everyoneâs been talking about how much youâve changedâhow much you've grown. Itâs impressive."
Kyle shifted uncomfortably, unsure how to respond. He appreciated her words, but it felt like there was an agenda behind them.
"You know," Hilary continued, taking another step closer, her voice lowering to almost a whisper, "Iâve been thinking about how long itâs been since we really talked." She gave him a small, knowing smile, a glint in her eyes that Kyle couldnât quite decipher. "Youâve been so busy with Romy, I get it. But still⊠after everything, donât you think we should catch up?"
The suggestion hung in the air, and for a moment, Kyle didnât know how to react. His mind flashed briefly to Romy, who was likely still in the garage, working behind the scenes, doing everything she could to support him. But the way Hilary stood before him, confident and poised, it was hard to ignore the familiarity of it. It was like slipping into a pair of shoes he hadnât worn in a whileâcomfortable, but a little too tight in spots.
"I donât know," Kyle said slowly, his mind racing. "Itâs been a while, and things are a little different now."
Hilaryâs smile didnât falter. She took another step closer, close enough that Kyle could feel the heat of her presence. "Yeah, things change," she said softly, her voice taking on a nostalgic tone. "But some things⊠some things donât change, Kyle. You know that, right?"
Kyleâs breath caught for a moment, unsure if he was hearing what he thought he was hearing. There was an intensity in her words, a quiet pull that made him remember things he had buried.
Before he could respond, Hilary reached out, lightly touching his arm, the contact fleeting but enough to send a jolt through him. "I just think we owe it to ourselves to talk," she said, her voice low, almost intimate now. "Itâs been too long since we were honest with each other, don't you think?"
Kyleâs pulse quickened, but he wasnât sure whether it was from the warmth of her touch or the sudden weight of her words. The feeling was familiar, but also confusing. He wasnât sure where the line between past and present was anymore.
"I really should get back," he said, pulling himself together. "I have to check in with the team. Thereâs a lot to do after a win."
Hilary tilted her head slightly, her eyes softening. "Of course. Youâre always so focused, Kyle," she said, the words almost a tease. "But, you know, Iâm here if you ever want to talk. Just like old times."
"Thanks, Hilary," he said, his voice tight. "Iâll keep that in mind."
The celebrations had died down, but the adrenaline from the race still buzzed through Kyleâs veins. It was supposed to be a high point in his careerâwinning his home race. Yet, something felt off. It wasnât just the tension from his interactions with Hilary or his motherâs biting remarks. It was Romy. He hadnât seen her for a while, and he couldnât ignore the subtle distance between them.
As he walked through the paddock, his eyes scanned for her. Then he found her. Alone. A few steps away from the usual crowd, in a secluded part of the paddock, her back turned to him, her posture stiff as though she were trying to hold herself together.
Romy had been so strong all weekendâfocused, determined, even in the face of adversity. But now, in the quiet space between them, he could see the cracks. He moved toward her, his heart tightening at the sight of her vulnerability.
He didnât speak right away. Instead, he gently took her hand in his, sitting down beside her on the bench, a few feet away from the chaos of the paddock. The soft click of boots on pavement, the laughter and shouts in the distance, felt worlds away. Here, it was just him and her.
âRomy,â Kyle said softly, his voice full of concern, âI donât care about anyone else, okay? I donât care about my mother, or Hilary, or the damn car. You matter to me. You always will.â
Romy turned toward him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, but she quickly wiped them away, trying to maintain control. It wasnât like her to show this side of herselfâthis rawness, this brokenness. But it had been a long weekend. And everything, the weight of the race, the pressure, and the jabs from Kyleâs family, had finally come crashing down on her.
Her voice trembled as she spoke, a crack in her otherwise strong facade. âYouâre winning, Kyle,â she whispered, her eyes fixed on the ground. âYouâve got it allâyour family, your career, your success. And here I am, failing at every turn. My carâs a disaster, and your mom... sheâs right. I donât belong here. I canât even keep up with you. Maybe she was right about me.â
Her words stung, and Kyle felt a pang of guilt that twisted his insides. He had never wanted her to feel like thisâlike she wasnât enough. But her words resonated deeply, and for a moment, he understood the weight she had been carrying. The fear that she would never fit in with his world.
He took a deep breath, fighting the surge of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him, and cupped her face in his hands, gently but firmly. He turned her face to meet his eyes, the vulnerability in her expression almost too much to bear.
âRomy,â he began, his voice steady but soft, âSheâs wrong. Youâre more than enough for me. Donât let anyone make you feel like youâre not. I know this weekend has been tough. But weâre in this together. Weâll figure it out, no matter how hard it gets. And Iâm not going anywhere.â
Romy closed her eyes, her breath hitching as she tried to steady herself. She felt his warmth, his sincerity in the way he held her, the way he always seemed to be there when she needed him most. But a small part of her still struggled to believe that she could truly belong in this world.
The pressure, the constant comparisons, and the way Kyleâs family seemed to doubt herâit all weighed heavily on her heart. But here, with Kyleâs words, she found a fragile thread of hope.
She finally met his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. âI want to believe that, Kyle. I really do. But itâs hard. Every step I take feels like I'm falling behind.â
Kyle kissed her forehead softly, his touch warm and comforting. âI know itâs hard,â he said, his thumb gently brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. âBut youâre not alone. You donât have to be anyone but yourself with me. Thatâs all I need.â
Romy took a shaky breath, letting herself lean into him, her head resting on his shoulder. The noise of the paddock seemed so far away now, replaced by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
For the first time in days, Romy felt herself letting goâof the tension, the doubt, the pressure. She let herself believe, even if just for a moment, that she was enough. For him.
And in that moment, Kyle whispered softly into her hair, âWeâre a team, Romy. Always.â
After the intense chaos of the weekendâafter the race, the celebrations, the tensions with his family, and the endless expectationsâit felt like the world had been swirling around them nonstop. But for a brief moment, Kyle and Romy managed to carve out something rare: a small, private space where the chaos of the paddock and the weight of the race couldnât reach them.
They found each other on the far side of the track, a quiet pathway leading to a secluded area, away from the prying eyes of the pit crew and the fans. The air was crisp, the sound of the roaring engines far away now, replaced by the rustle of trees and the distant chatter of the event winding down.
Kyle had his arm around Romy, and as they walked, the pressure of the weekend seemed to melt away, if only for a moment. Romy could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly releasing. She glanced up at Kyle, seeing him in a new lightâhis face relaxed, his eyes focused on her.
This was the Kyle she lovedânot the champion driver, not the son caught between two worlds, but the man who had been with her through it all. The man who had shared the highs and lows of their relationship, the one who saw her for who she truly was.
âItâs nice, isnât it?â she said quietly, looking around at the quiet surroundings.
Kyle nodded, his hand gently squeezing hers. âYeah. Itâs good to get away from it all for a bit.â
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, with nothing but the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the occasional laugh shared between them.
In that fleeting space, Romy remembered why she loved himânot because of the fame or the success, not because of the racing victories or the way people admired him, but because of the way he treated her. He was kind, he was real, and in a world filled with expectations and pressure, he had always made her feel seen.
Kyle glanced over at her, his eyes soft. âYou doing okay?â he asked, his voice gentle.
Romy met his gaze, offering him a small, genuine smile. âI am now,â she said, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days.
But even in this peaceful moment, the weight of everything that had happenedâand everything still to comeâwas never far from her mind. She couldnât forget the way Kyleâs mother had looked at her during their brief meeting, the way Hilaryâs presence had felt like a shadow over them. The race weekend had been one more reminder that their lives were never going to be simple.
There would be no escaping the expectations of Kyleâs family, no escaping the challenges that came with being with someone so deeply entrenched in the racing world. Romy still didnât feel like she truly belonged, and with Hilaryâs reappearance, she couldnât shake the feeling that her place in Kyleâs life was something constantly under threat.
As they stopped walking and stood in the quiet, her hand in his, Romy took a deep breath. Kyle leaned down, brushing a strand of hair from her face as he kissed her forehead softly.
For now, they had each other. And that was enough.
But as the weekend came to a close and they made their way back to the paddock, the reality of everything that still lay ahead loomed. The challenges, the insecurities, the expectationsâthey were all still there, waiting for them.
But for tonight, as they stood together under the fading light, Romy held onto the warmth of Kyleâs presence. For tonight, it was enough to know that, in this moment, they were together. And that was all that mattered.
Author's note :
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.
26. I'd climb every mountain and swim every ocean just to be with you and fix what I've broken
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
The air in Switzerland was crisp and clean, carrying the faint scent of pine and snow-capped mountains. Romy stood on the expansive balcony of her secluded home, the cold biting her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself. She didnât shiver, didnât react to the chillâit was as if she had become as numb as the winter landscape before her. The silence was absolute, broken only by the occasional rustle of trees or the distant cry of a bird. It was a kind of peace she had longed for during the chaos of the racing season, but now it felt suffocating.
Her gaze swept across the valley, the jagged peaks jutting into a pale gray sky. The view, once a source of inspiration, was now just a canvas for her emptiness. She hadnât touched her car keys since sheâd arrived, hadnât driven on the winding alpine roads she once adored. Even the thought of sitting behind the wheel made her stomach churn with a mix of grief and guilt.
Inside, the house was an ode to luxuryâsleek modern lines, expansive glass walls showcasing the surrounding mountains, and every comfort money could buy. Yet none of it brought her solace. The plush white rugs, the flicker of the fireplace, the soft leather of the designer couchâall seemed alien and cold, as if they belonged to someone elseâs life.
Her mother moved quietly through the space, always nearby but never intrusive. Helena had flown in as soon as Romy had called, sensing the weight of her daughterâs silence even before words had been spoken. Now she moved about the kitchen, her motions deliberate and soothing, as if the simple act of making soup could stitch together the pieces of her fractured child.
âYou should eat something,â Helenaâs soft voice interrupted the stillness. She placed a bowl of steaming soup on the counter, her expression a mixture of concern and helplessness.
âIâm not hungry,â Romy replied, her voice flat and distant. She didnât turn around, her gaze fixed on the horizon where the mountains met the sky.
Helena sighed, her shoulders drooping slightly, but she didnât push. Instead, she stepped closer, placing a hand on Romyâs shoulder. Her fingers were warm, firm but gentle, like an anchor trying to steady her against the storm.
âGrief has a way of taking everything from us,â Helena murmured. âBut you canât let it take your strength too.â
Romyâs throat tightened, the words piercing through her apathy. âI donât have any strength left,â she whispered, the confession tumbling out before she could stop it.
âYou do,â Helena insisted, her voice steady. âEven if you canât see it now, itâs there.â
Romy exhaled slowly, her breath visible in the cold air, and fought against the tears threatening to spill. She wanted to believe her mother, wanted to find that strength, but all she felt was the crushing weight of what she had lost.
The soup sat untouched on the counter as Helena retreated to the other room, giving Romy the space she craved. Romy remained on the balcony, her arms tightening around herself. The vastness of the mountains stretched out before her, mocking her insignificance. She had once felt invincible, a force to be reckoned with on the track. Now she was just a shadow, a ghost of the woman she used to be.
Kyleâs grief was a quiet storm, one that didnât erupt in loud, angry bursts, but simmered beneath the surface, a constant ache he couldnât shake. His flat in Monacoâsleek and modern, a testament to his Formula 1 successâfelt almost like a prison now. The yachts bobbed gently in the harbor outside his window, a stark reminder of everything he had worked for, and yet, they felt foreign. His life had been about speed, about keeping ahead of the curve, but here, in this space, time stood still. It was as if the world had moved on without him, leaving him stuck, lost in the past.
His hands trembled as they gripped the edge of the bed. The memory of Romyâs touch lingered, faint but persistent, like a ghost he couldnât exorcise. When she left for Switzerland, there had been a sense of resignation in her eyesâher need for space was clear, but it felt like a betrayal nonetheless. Kyle had known it was coming, yet nothing prepared him for the emptiness she left behind. He thought of the final moments they had shared, her distant gaze, her voice just above a whisper, and the way her hand slipped from his, the warmth of it fading as she walked out the door. That touch, that absence, stayed with him, an aching reminder of what he had lost. He had let her go, but now, without her, everything felt hollow.
The thought of calling Romy crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit. His phone sat like an anchor in his hand, a weight that kept him rooted in place. What could he say? His grief had become a knot in his throat, choking off any words he might want to say. He didnât know if he had the right to intrude on her pain when he was drowning in his own. The silence between them was thick, suffocating. He could feel the distance between them stretching out farther every day. The silence in his apartment felt like a tangible thing, pressing in from all sides. It made it harder to breathe, harder to think.
He couldnât forget the last conversation they had before she leftâher words clipped, her tone flat. There had been so much unsaid between them, so many things left hanging in the air, unresolved. Kyle had known, deep down, that something was wrong, that she was slipping away, but he hadnât known how to stop it. He hadnât known how to save her or their future together. That knowledge haunted him, gnawing at him like a constant, aching hunger.
In the quiet of his kitchen, his hands shook as he gripped the counter. He tried to steady himself, but his breath came in short, sharp bursts. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Romyâs faceâthe way her smile would light up a room, how her laughter could fill any empty space. Now, that smile seemed like a distant memory, something he could never touch again. The thought of their baby, the one they had lost, weighed heavily on his heart. He couldnât protect Romy, couldnât protect their child, and that failure, that grief, felt like a leaden weight on his chest. It was the kind of grief that didnât just stay in the mind; it seeped into the bones, the skin, the soul.
As he lay in bed, the darkness of the night pressing in around him, he whispered into the emptiness, âIâm sorry, Romy. Iâm so sorry.â His voice cracked, the words hollow, unable to reach her. It was all he had left to offer herâan apology that didnât change anything.
The decision to fly to Switzerland was one Kyle had agonized over for days. He knew it wouldnât be easy, but the ache in his chest was unbearable, the weight of his grief heavier than anything he had ever faced on or off the track. He couldnât keep pretending he was okay, couldnât keep drowning in silence. The thought of seeing Romy again, of being near her, gave him the faintest spark of hopeâhope that maybe, just maybe, they could begin to heal together.
As the plane touched down in Zurich, the cold winter air hit him like a slap. Kyle barely registered the bustle around him as he made his way through the airport. His mind kept looping back to the same thought: What if she doesnât want to see me? What if Iâve waited too long? He tried to shake off the anxiety, but it clung to him like a second skin. The last thing he wanted was to show up on her doorstep, a broken man begging for forgiveness, but that was exactly what he had become. A man who couldnât fix anythingâleast of all himself.
The drive from Zurich to the mountainside retreat felt like an eternity. The quiet of the landscape, blanketed in snow, was almost suffocating. Every bend in the road felt like a metaphor for the twisted path their relationship had taken. Kyleâs hands gripped the armrests of the car, his stomach in knots, but he couldnât turn back. Not now.
When he arrived at her doorstep, Romy was standing there, her expression unreadable. She was wrapped in a thick scarf, her blonde hair tucked under a knit hat. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Kyle's heart pounded in his chest, and he could see the wariness in her eyes. He knew he must have looked like a messâdisheveled, eyes red-rimmed from sleepless nights, his jacket wrinkled from the long flight.
"Kyle⊠what are you doing here?" Her voice was soft, almost too soft. It was the kind of voice you use when you're trying to keep the walls intact, when you're afraid of what the other person might do to them.
Kyle opened his mouth, but the words were stuck. He took a deep breath and looked at her, the woman he loved, the woman who had torn a hole in his heart by walking away. He hadnât prepared a speech, hadnât thought through what to say. He only knew one thing: I need her.
"I needed to see you," he said finally, his voice cracking under the weight of his own vulnerability. "I can't⊠I canât do this without you." His words were simple, but they hung in the air, raw and unrefined. They felt like a confession, an admission of his brokenness.
Romy stared at him for a long moment, her face a study of indecision. Kyle could see the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, but she held them back, her lips pressed into a tight line. The silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating, until she stepped back and gestured for him to come inside.
They sat in front of the fire, the crackling flames a stark contrast to the coldness that filled the room. Kyle ran a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling. Romy remained silent beside him, her posture stiff, her gaze trained on the fire as if she could lose herself in its flickering light.
After what felt like an eternity, Kyle couldnât take the silence any longer. "Iâve been blaming myself for everything," he said, his voice thick with emotion. The words came spilling out, each one heavier than the last. "For the crash, for what happened to us⊠to the baby." The admission tore at him, each phrase a fresh wound.
Romy's eyes glistened with unshed tears. She turned her face away, biting her lip to keep from breaking down. Her hands trembled in her lap as she struggled to maintain control. "Iâve been blaming myself too," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "For not realizing, for pushing my body too hard⊠for everything." The weight of her guilt was evident in her words, the way her voice cracked at the end.
Kyle reached out instinctively, his hand finding hers, covering it gently. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, even though it had been so long since theyâd touched. His fingers intertwined with hers, offering what little comfort he had left to give.
"We canât keep doing this to ourselves," Kyle continued, his voice shaky. "We canât heal if weâre apart." The words were almost a plea. He didnât want to live in this constant state of pain, this never-ending cycle of regret and distance. He wanted them backâthe way they were before everything fell apart. Maybe it was naĂŻve, but in that moment, it was all he could hope for.
Romyâs breath hitched, and she finally turned to look at him, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that mirrored his own. For the first time in what felt like forever, the walls she had built around herself seemed to crack. Her lips trembled as she spoke, her voice barely audible. "I donât know if I can just⊠forget what happened. I donât know if we can fix this."
Kyleâs heart sank at her words, but he squeezed her hand, his grip firm. "Iâm not asking you to forget," he said, his voice steady but full of longing. "Iâm asking you to give us a chance. We donât have to figure everything out right now, but we have to stop punishing ourselves. Weâve both lost so much already. I donât want to lose you too."
Romy closed her eyes for a moment, her forehead creased in thought. The pain in her expression was undeniable, but so was the love that had once burned so brightly between them. Slowly, her eyes opened again, and she met his gaze. It was raw, unguarded. "I donât know if I can let you in again," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I donât know if Iâm strong enough."
Kyle leaned forward, his eyes locked on hers, his heart in his throat. "You donât have to be strong. Not alone. Iâll be here. Weâll do this together. Please, Romy."
For a long time, she didnât answer. Her hand tightened in his, the silence hanging heavy between them. But then, slowly, she nodded. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and Kyle wiped it away with his thumb, his touch gentle, reverent.
"I donât know what the future holds," she said softly, her voice shaky, "but Iâm willing to try. For us. For what we were."
Kyle's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and uncertainty. It wasnât the resolution he had hoped for, but it was somethingâan opening, a possibility. He wasnât sure what the next step would look like, but in that moment, he didnât care. He had her, and that was all that mattered.
And maybe, just maybe, they could begin to healâtogether.
The morning light spilled gently over the Swiss mountains, the soft hum of the early morning air filling the space between them. Kyle sat across from Romy on the balcony, the warmth of the sun brushing against his skin as he sipped his coffee. For a moment, everything was quiet. The kind of peace that felt hard-earned, fragile. After everything they had been through, after all the pain and loss, it felt like a gift.
But Kyle had something on his mind. Something important. He set his mug down, his fingers lingering on the rim for a moment, then turned his gaze to Romy. His eyes, always so clear and confident on the racetrack, now seemed full of hesitation.
âI want to take you somewhere,â he said, his voice soft but sincere, almost as if he were testing the waters.
Romy looked at him, the light glinting off the peaks of the mountains, her heart suddenly racing. She knew Kyle had grown up in a small town in Kentucky, but they had never really talked about it in depth. It was as if that part of his life was something he kept for himself, something he didnât often share. They had been together for months now, but the idea of meeting his family... it felt like stepping into uncharted territory.
"Where?" she asked, her voice cautious but curious, trying to mask the slight unease bubbling up inside her.
"Home," Kyle replied, his tone so simple, yet laden with something deeper. A quiet invitation.
Romy blinked, surprised. âHome?â she echoed, unsure if she had heard him right. âTo Kentucky?â
Kyle nodded slowly, his lips curling into a half-smile, though there was something almost wistful in his eyes. "Yeah. I want you to meet my family."
A silence hung in the air, and Romyâs stomach tightened. She had met many people in her life, but she had never met anyoneâs parents in this kind of situation. Not like this. Not when there were so many unspoken things between them. She had never even been inside Kyleâs world like thisâhis true roots, the place where he grew up, the people who shaped him.
Her voice faltered as she tried to put her thoughts into words. "Kyle, Iâ I donât knowâŠ"
"I know itâs a big step, but I think itâs time," he said, his eyes softening with something unspoken. "Youâve been with me through so much. You deserve to see where I come from. And I need you to meet them."
Romyâs heart skipped. But there was something else nagging at herâa feeling she couldnât shake. Meeting his family was more than just a chance to learn about his past. It was an entrance into a world where she was unsure of her place. His family wasnât like hers. They werenât part of the F1 world she was so used toâthis was a different world entirely. A quieter, more humble world. And from what Kyle had told her about his parents, especially his mother, she wasnât sure how she would fit in.
âIâve never met anyoneâs parents like this, Kyle. And your momâŠâ She hesitated, struggling to find the right words. âSheâs not exactly... thrilled that youâre with me, is she?â
Kyleâs face tightened slightly, and his fingers absentmindedly traced the rim of his mug. âMy momâs old-fashioned,â he admitted, his voice low. "Sheâs always thought Iâd go back to Hilary... thought that I should have stayed with her. Itâs hard to explain, but my mom... she doesnât like change."
Romy felt a pang of discomfort. She knew Hilaryâhad seen her around the paddocks on a few occasions. Kyleâs first love, someone he had dated before he and Romy became involved. The idea that Kyleâs mom would prefer that relationship to theirs stung. But at the same time, Romy understood. Her own relationships had never been easy to navigate with her family, and she had worked hard to build her career while keeping her personal life a bit of a mystery.
Still, the prospect of being compared to someone from Kyleâs pastâsomeone his family still seemed to wish he was withâwas a difficult pill to swallow.
âIâm not Hilary,â Romy said quietly, more to herself than to him, the words carrying a mixture of vulnerability and bitterness. She didnât even want to think about the woman Kyle had once shared his future with. âI donât know if Iâm ready for that. To feel like... Iâm just a replacement.â
Kyle immediately reached out, his hand warm on hers. âYouâre not a replacement, Romy,â he said, his voice firm. âI chose you. And thatâs not just a choice for now, itâs for the rest of my life. My mom... sheâll come around. Sheâs just stubborn. But sheâll see how much you mean to me, how much youâve done for me, for us.â His voice softened. âShe just needs time.â
Romy met his gaze, feeling the sincerity in his words. She knew he was right. Kyle was a family-oriented guy. And if he was asking her to meet them, it meant something deep to him. But still, the fear lingered. What if they didnât accept her? What if they judged her? What if his mom saw her as an outsider, someone who didnât belong in their close-knit world?
âI donât know if I can handle the pressure, Kyle,â she said, the words leaving her mouth before she could stop them. âWhat if I donât fit in? What if... what if your mom never accepts me? Iâm not the girl you were supposed to end up with. You know that, right? Iâm a F1 driver too. My world isnât like hers. My life is... nothing like what she mightâve imagined for you.â
Kyle squeezed her hand, his expression unwavering. âYou think I care about that?â His voice softened with affection. âI donât care about any of that. I love you, Romy. I donât need my mom to love you for me to know youâre the one. But I dowant you to meet her. I want you to see where I come from, see the things that shaped me. If I want my future with you, then you need to see my past. It's a part of me, just like you are."
She took a deep breath, her mind racing. She had never been someone who was easily swayed by external pressure. She had worked too hard, fought too hard, to let anyone dictate her choices. And Kyle was rightâhe had chosen her. But this? This was different. Meeting his family, meeting his momâthe thought felt like a huge leap.
âIâm scared,â she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, the weight of her own vulnerability surprising her. âIâm scared of not fitting in, of being judged. Iâm scared of being compared to someone else, someone whoâs already part of your history.â
Kyleâs thumb gently caressed the back of her hand, and his gaze softened even more. âI know itâs scary. But Iâll be right there with you. And if they canât see how incredible you are, then thatâs on them, not on you. Weâll figure it out. Together.â
Romy closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing the warmth of his words, his presence. She wasnât sure if she was ready for this, but Kyleâs steady hand in hers, his unwavering belief in them, made her feel like maybeâjust maybeâshe could take that step.
Finally, she nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. âOkay. Letâs go. But youâre warning your mom about me first,â she said, teasing, trying to lighten the mood.
Kyle chuckled, his eyes full of affection. âIâll warn her. But Iâm not sure sheâll believe me. Youâre too good for me, Romy. Thatâs what Iâll tell her.â
She laughed softly, the tension easing just a little. âThatâs a start.â
And with that, they both stood up, ready to face the next stepâtogether, no matter how uncertain it might feel.
Author's note :
Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.
25. Would you know my name If I saw you in heaven?
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her waking up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface and what started as a mistake quickly becomes an habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart has other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
TW : Miscarriage
Chapter soundtrack : Tears in Heaven - Eric Clapton
The morning at Spa was electric. The paddock buzzed with activity, a palpable tension in the air as teams made their final preparations. Above, the clouds loomed dark and heavy, but the rain held off, just as the weather forecast had predicted. Romy could feel it, the excitement, the nerves, the weight of the weekend. The entire race was hers to take. She had qualified well and expected nothing less than a victory.
She adjusted her racing gloves, flexing her fingers. She had fought so hard to get here, and today would be the culmination of everything. The plan was simple: keep her head down, stay aggressive, fight for every position.
Kyle was across the paddock, his eyes catching hers for a brief moment. She barely returned the glance, too focused on the task at hand. The lingering tension from NĂŒrburgring was still thereâunspoken but evident in the distance between them. He understood her lookâdetermined, fiery, and, at times, reckless. Romy had a way of shutting everything else out when she was in the zone, but Kyle knew her better than anyone.
The formation lap began, and Romy gripped the steering wheel with purpose. The cold air filled her lungs, her mind racing as she mentally ran through her strategy. But there was something else simmering beneath the surfaceâan unsettling sense of nausea she couldn't quite explain. She chalked it up to adrenaline, the pressure mounting with each passing second, and the unyielding weight of expectation.
The lights went out. The race began in a frenzy.
Romyâs instincts kicked in. She accelerated, defending her position aggressively, weaving her Audi through the tight corners of Eau Rouge and up the hill toward Raidillon. The speed, the precisionâit felt like she was in perfect harmony with the car. Kyle was just ahead, locked in a fierce battle with a Mercedes, and Romyâs eyes flicked between the two cars, searching for any opening.
Her engineerâs voice crackled in her ear. âStay focused, Romy. Youâve got pace, but watch your lines.â
She barely registered the warning. She was in the zone now, pushing harder. Approaching La Source, she spotted an openingâa small gap between Kyle and the Mercedes. It wasnât much, but it was enough. She went for it.
But then it happenedâeverything went wrong in an instant.
Kyle swerved slightly to avoid the Mercedes pinching him. His movement cut into Romyâs line. Her car clipped his rear tire, sending her into the gravel. Her heart pounded as she tried to regain control, but it was too late. The gravel took her, and she slid toward the barriers.
âYellow flag. Romy, are you okay?â her engineerâs voice broke through the static, urgently.
Romyâs hands clenched the wheel tightly, her breath ragged as she assessed the damage. The car had skidded into the barriers, the front wing a mangled mess. Her vision blurred, but she knew she was intact. Just shaken, and angry.
âWhat is he doing?!â she snapped over the radio, her frustration bubbling over. âSwerved right when I was about to overtake! Unbelievable!â
Kyleâs onboard replay flashed across the broadcast. His voice was calm but irritated. âDidnât see her. Blind spot. Is she okay?â
âSheâs out of the car,â his engineer replied. âSheâs fine.â
Romy stormed back into the garage, her helmet under her arm, face flushed with anger. Her fingers were still trembling. Her stomach churned again, the nausea creeping back, sharper this time.
âWhat an ass!â she spat, throwing her gloves onto the bench, her voice thick with bitterness.
Julia handed her a water bottle, trying to offer comfort, but Romyâs gaze was distant, her breathing shallow. âYou okay?â Julia asked softly, noting how pale Romy looked. Her skin was clammy, her hand trembling as she reached for the chair.
Romy waved it off. âItâs nothing. Just the shock.â
But her legs betrayed her the moment she tried to stand. They buckled, and Julia barely caught her in time, steadying her.
âRomyâŠâ Juliaâs voice was firm. âYouâre not fine. Sit down.â
Romyâs face flushed with frustration. âI said Iâm fine.â But as she tried to push away from the chair, her legs wobbled again. She felt faint. Her vision blurred, and panic rose in her chest.
Juliaâs expression hardened. âThatâs it. Weâre going to the hospital,â she declared, her voice leaving no room for argument.
âI donât need to goââ Romy began, but Julia wasnât listening.
âYouâre hot and pale, and you just nearly collapsed. Donât argue.â Juliaâs decision was final.
The room felt suffocating, the sterile air pressing down on her chest like a weight she couldnât escape. Romy stared at the floor, her hands white-knuckling the edge of the bed, trying to ground herself. The low hum of medical equipment was the only sound breaking the heavy silence, punctuated by her uneven breathing. She felt like a stranger in her own body, like something was terribly wrong, and no matter how she tried to shake the feeling, it kept coming back, louder and more insistent.
The crash. The adrenaline. Her racing heart. She had pushed everything out of her mind, telling herself it was just the shock, the impact, the pressure of the weekend. But now, sitting here, the weight of it all was undeniable. The exhaustion in her bones, the aching in her chest, the strange emptiness that she couldn't explain.
She tried to swallow the lump in her throat when the door opened, the cool presence of the doctor cutting through her thoughts. He was young, his expression carefully neutral, but there was something in his eyes that made Romy tense. She could feel it in her gut before the words left his mouth.
âIâm afraid you've experienced a miscarriage," he said, his voice measured, clinical. "Given the circumstances, itâs important you rest. Weâll need to monitor you for a while."
Romyâs chest clenched. The word miscarriage echoed in her ears like a foreign language. She felt numb, a fog descending over her mind, as if she were watching someone elseâs life unfold before her.
Miscarriage?
Her thoughts fractured, her pulse thudding in her ears. She tried to find the words to respond, but nothing came. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, as she tried to process the weight of what heâd just said. Her hand, which had been gripping the mattress so tightly, now felt loose and hollow.
A miscarriage.
How could that be? She wasnât even aware she was pregnant. There had been no signs, no early morning sickness, no changes in her body. She hadnât even been late. Romy tried to remember, tried to think back to when it could have happened, but it was all a blur. The races. The training. The constant pressure of expectationsâher familyâs expectations, the team's expectationsâhad consumed her. Everything had blurred together. Had she been too distracted to notice? Had she missed something?
Her breath hitched in her throat, and her stomach twisted, not just from the emotional shock but from the sharp, gnawing pain in her abdomen. She hadnât realized how much it had hurt until now, the discomfort in her lower belly too familiar but not quite recognizable.
The doctor continued speaking, explaining the medical side of itâthe physical effects, the bleeding, the cramps that were part of the bodyâs response. He mentioned how her body would need time to recover, how the stress of the crash could have contributed to what had happened. The words drifted past her, disjointed and muffled, like she was submerged underwater.
The dizziness came next, a wave of nausea that swept over her as the doctor listed off symptoms to watch out for. She couldnât focus on his words. All she could focus on was the emptiness, the void that had opened inside her. It wasnât just the loss of what could have been; it was the loss of something she didnât even know existed. Her body felt like a traitor now, like it had been hiding something from her all along.
The doctorâs voice grew softer, and Romy realized he was waiting for a response. Her hand shook as she finally lifted it to her forehead, her skin clammy, the faintest tremor in her limbs.
"Is there... is there anything we can do?" she whispered, her voice breaking. She hated how small she sounded, how fragile. The question seemed so futile now, but she needed something, anything, to make sense of this, to make it stop.
The doctor hesitated, his gaze sympathetic. âWeâll monitor your physical recovery over the next few days. Youâll need rest, both physically and emotionally. There may be a follow-up procedure if the miscarriage is incomplete, but weâll wait and see how your body responds.â
Romy nodded absently, though the words didnât quite register. She had no idea what she was supposed to do now. She didnât know how to process this, how to accept it.
As the doctor finally turned to leave, Romy was left alone with the overwhelming silence. Her chest felt tight, like the air itself was too thick to breathe. The emptiness inside her only seemed to grow. She had no name, no face, no memory to mourn. It was just a gaping hole, a loss she didnât even know existed until it was gone.
And then the tears cameâtears that she hadnât expected, hadnât allowed herself to feel until now. They came in quiet waves, hot against her skin, mixing with the shame, the confusion, the helplessness. She wanted to scream, to throw something, but all she could do was sit there, paralyzed by grief she couldnât fully understand.
Romy wiped her eyes, trying to steady herself, but nothing felt real. Nothing felt like it belonged in her world anymore. The race, the team, the endless grind of competitionâit all felt trivial in comparison to the gnawing emptiness in her chest.
Her body had failed her. And now, the weight of everything she had been carrying for monthsâthe pressure of living up to a legacy, the expectations of everyone around her, the constant push to be better, faster, strongerâfelt unbearable.
For the first time in years, Romy felt like she had nothing left to give.
The sterile hospital corridor was dimly lit, the buzzing of fluorescent lights filling the silence. Kyle paced, unable to stay still, his hands running through his hair as he muttered under his breath. Every second that passed felt like an eternity.
Julia stood by the door, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She was trying to keep her composure, but her eyes kept darting toward the hallway, scanning for any sign of Romy or an update. She had already argued with the doctor about not being able to get any informationâafter all, sheâd spent almost as much time with Romy as her own family, but the rules were clear. She wasnât blood, and that meant she was left in the dark.
âWhatâs happening, Julia? Why isnât anyone telling me anything?â Kyleâs voice was strained, a raw edge to it that was rare for him. He shot a desperate look her way, his frustration palpable.
âI donât know, Kyle,â Julia said softly, trying to keep her own panic at bay. âI told you, I donât have the answers. They wonât tell me anything because Iâm not family.â
Kyle ran a hand down his face, looking like a man on the edge of a breakdown. His breathing was shallow as he tried to process the situation. âThis is insane! Sheâs my girlfriend. Iâm supposed to know whatâs going on with her.â
âYou know how this works,â Julia replied, her voice tight. âWe have to wait.â
âMan, calm down,â Ethan said, his voice sharp. âYouâre gonna make things worse.â
Kyle shot him a quick, venomous glance, his eyes wild. âHow am I supposed to calm down when I donât know if sheâs okay?â
Just then, a doctor emerged from one of the rooms. He was wearing a crisp white coat, his expression professional, but there was a subtle tension in his demeanor. Kyle froze in place, his heart pounding in his chest as he stepped forward.
âWhatâs going on? How is she?â Kyle asked, his voice strained.
The doctor held up a hand, signaling for him to calm down. âPlease follow me,â he said quietly.
Kyle felt a rush of cold wash over him as he trailed behind the doctor, his every step heavy, as if the weight of the unknown was pressing down on him with each stride. They moved down a white corridor, its bright lights overhead casting long shadows, making the whole place feel more like a labyrinth than a hospital. Kyleâs mind raced with questions, each one more desperate than the last.
Once they reached a private consultation room, the doctor closed the door behind them, and Kyleâs anxiety spiked. The silence that followed felt suffocating. The doctor looked at him for a moment, a pause that stretched on far too long.
âSheâs stable,â the doctor began, his voice steady but clipped. "Physically, sheâs okay for now, though sheâs still at risk for complications."
Kyleâs chest tightened. âWhat do you mean, still at risk? What happened?â
The doctorâs expression softened slightly, though it didnât ease the heaviness in Kyleâs chest. âShe suffered a miscarriage. A spontaneous one, likely triggered by the stress of the crash.â
Kyle felt the room spin. The words didnât sink in at first. Miscarriage? Romy was pregnant? His mind fought to process the news, confusion clouding his thoughts.
âSheâshe didnât know?â Kyleâs voice cracked, more a question to himself than to the doctor. He couldnât believe it. How could this have happened without anyone realizing?
The doctor nodded solemnly. âIt seems that way. There were no signs until the crashâno obvious symptoms. The stress of the impact, the sudden physical strain, could have triggered it. But... itâs complicated. There could have been underlying factors that we wonât fully know until we monitor her over the next few days.â
Kyle felt his heart drop into his stomach. His first thought was of Romyâhow she must have felt, how this news would devastate her. He knew the weight she carried, the expectations, and now, this.
"Is she... is she okay?" Kyle asked again, his voice softer, the fear creeping into the pit of his stomach.
The doctor sighed, glancing down at his clipboard. âPhysically, weâre keeping a close eye on her. Sheâs in pain, and thereâs bleeding, but for now, itâs manageable. Emotionally, thatâs another matter. Sheâs in shock, and thereâs no telling how sheâll react to all of this once she fully processes it.â
Kyle closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his breathing. He wanted to be strong for her. But how could he? How could anyone help with something so devastating, so silent, yet so profound?
âCan I see her?â Kyle asked, already knowing the answer.
The doctor hesitated, his eyes heavy with unspoken truths. âIâll allow you a few minutes. But be prepared. Sheâs not herself right now. This isnât something she can just bounce back from.â
Kyle nodded, his stomach a tight knot of dread and helplessness. He didnât know how to prepare for this. He just knew he couldnât leave her alone, not now, not after everything.
The doctor led him back to Romyâs room, his hand gently pushing the door open. Kyle stepped inside, his heart in his throat, trying to swallow down the panic that was threatening to rise.
Romy was sitting on the bed, her back straight but her eyes distant, staring at the blank wall across from her. Her face was pale, her eyes red-rimmed from the tears that had fallen earlier, though there was a strange emptiness to her gaze now. Her hands were folded in her lap, fingers barely moving.
She didnât look up when he entered, and the silence that enveloped them was crushing. Kyleâs throat tightened, and he moved slowly toward her, his steps tentative as if he didnât want to disturb the fragile stillness between them.
He stood at the edge of her bed, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to approach her. Romy hadnât said a word since sheâd been brought in. She was quieter than heâd ever seen her before, a far cry from the fiery determination she usually exuded.
âKyle...â Her voice broke the silence, soft and hoarse, a fragile thread of sound. She didnât meet his eyes, but the way she said his name made his heart ache. âI didnât even knowâŠâ
Kyle knelt beside her, his hand hesitating before resting gently on hers. He didnât know what to say. There were no words for something like this. But he couldnât stand the distance between them, the invisible wall that seemed to have grown the moment the doctor spoke those dreaded words.
âIâm so sorry, Romy,â he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. âI had no idea.â
She shook her head, still staring down at her hands. âI didnât either. I didnât even knowâŠâ
The rest of the words died in her throat, and Kyle didnât push. He just held her hand, offering the only comfort he could in that moment.
Her body was still, but the tremors were there, just beneath the surface. She was trying to hold herself together, but he could see itâthe cracks in her walls. He didnât know how to fix this, how to make it better. But he wasnât going anywhere. Not now. Not after everything she had been through.
And for once, Kyle allowed himself to be the support. He stayed there, silently beside her, his presence the only thing he could offer her in the wake of the storm.
Kyleâs breaths were shaky, coming in uneven gasps, and Ethan could hear the tremor in his voice. He sat beside him, watching him try to steady himself, but it wasnât working. Kyle was a mess, every bit of the bravado he usually wore stripped away, leaving nothing but a raw, exposed version of himself.
Ethan shifted, uncomfortable, unsure whether to say anything. The silence between them felt heavier than it had any right to be.
âTalk to me, man,â Ethan finally said, his voice low but firm, trying to break the tension. But when Kyle didnât respond, Ethan could feel his insides twisting. He wasnât sure if it was the exhaustion, the grief, or the sheer overwhelming guilt weighing on his friend.
âI killed it,â Kyle whispered, the words so faint Ethan barely caught them.
The weight of that admission hit Ethan like a freight train. He blinked in disbelief, his mind scrambling to catch up with the gravity of Kyleâs words. He leaned back, almost physically recoiling, stunned by the crushing sincerity in Kyleâs voice.
"Oh wow⊠Okay, I clearly didnât expect that. Rewind, please," Ethan managed to say, trying to lighten the mood, but his words fell flat in the oppressive atmosphere.
Kyleâs face twisted, eyes dark with pain. He looked at Ethan, but it wasnât the same confident, sharp gaze Ethan was used to. It was hollow, clouded with guilt and grief, something Ethan had never seen from him before.
âWe would have had a baby. And I killed it,â Kyle said again, the pain in his voice raw and unfiltered.
The words hit Ethan harder than he wanted to admit. His stomach dropped, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. It was as if the room around them faded away, leaving only the two of themâKyle, broken, and Ethan, trying to comprehend the depth of what he was hearing.
âRomy is pregnant?â Ethanâs voice shot up in volume before he could stop it, and the sharpness of his surprise made Kyle flinch.
Kyleâs gaze burned into him with a fierceness Ethan wasnât prepared for. The hurt in his eyes made Ethan shrink back, but Kyle didnât answer immediately. Instead, he exhaled a long, shuddering breath, his hand rubbing over his face, like he was trying to rub away the guilt that seemed to cling to him.
âNot anymore,â Kyle said, his voice barely audible, cracking under the weight of his words. âBecause I bumped into her. Because I didnât see her.â
The confession came out like a whisper, a surrender to the guilt that had been consuming him. The air in the room felt suffocating, the burden of what Kyle had said hanging between them like an insurmountable wall. Ethan stared at him, trying to make sense of it all, but nothing felt right. It didnât seem possible.
âCome on, bro. You know itâs not true. You said it yourself, she was in your blind spot. Thereâs nothing you could have done.â
Kyle shook his head violently, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. "Maybe if I hadnât been so focused on getting out of the traffic⊠taking risks. Maybe if Iâd been smarter, if I hadnât made that stupid move⊠maybe she wouldnât have been forced to make a reckless decision, and maybe, just maybe, our baby would still be alive."
The words cut into Ethan like a blade, and he instinctively put a hand on Kyleâs shoulder, as though he could stop the flood of self-loathing that was threatening to drown his friend.
âDude,â Ethan said softly, trying to make eye contact, but Kyle wouldnât look up. His eyes were trained on the floor, his chest rising and falling in sharp, jagged breaths. "Itâs not your fault. You didnât know. You didnât want this to happen.â
Kyleâs face twisted in anguish. âI didnât give us a chance. I wanted to win so badly, Ethan. I put everything else asideâher, us... I didnât even realize she was pregnant until it was too late. If I had given her more time, if I hadnât been so reckless, we could have taken responsibility together. We couldâve... we couldâve figured it out. But I didnât. I ruined it. I ruined everything.â
Ethan could feel the weight of Kyleâs self-blame crashing over him. The guilt was palpable, an almost physical thing, and it made Ethanâs chest tighten with his own helplessness. He wanted to say somethingâanythingâto make this better, but he knew there were no words for something like this.
âIâm sorry, Kyle,â Ethan said, his voice tight with emotion. There was nothing more he could offer, but the apology felt necessary, even if it didnât feel like enough.
Kyle let out a ragged sigh, his face crumpling as tears welled up in his eyes. He swiped at them, but the tears kept coming, his shoulders shaking with the release of emotions he had been holding inside for far too long.
"Iâve always known I wanted to have kids with her. Itâs always been so clear to me," Kyleâs voice trembled, thick with tears, as he let his head fall into his hands. "Sheâs the one I want to grow old with, to raise kids with... And now... Iâm not even sure weâre still together after this."
Ethanâs heart ached as he watched his friend unravel before him, the weight of the situation threatening to swallow him whole. Kyle had always been so strong, so driven, so sure of himself. But this... this was different. This wasnât something that could be fixed with grit or determination. This was something far deeper.
âYou guys need time,â Ethan said softly, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. "This... this is too much to deal with all at once. But I know you, Kyle. Youâll get through this. You will. I donât have any doubt about it.â
Kyle looked at him, his face twisted in pain, and his eyes raw. âBut Iâm scared. Iâm scared Iâll lose her, Ethan. I canât lose her. I donât know what Iâd do without her.â
Ethanâs heart clenched as he saw the raw vulnerability in Kyleâs face. He had never seen him like this, and it terrified him. He couldnât imagine the kind of pain Kyle was in.
âYou wonât lose her, I promise. You wonât. You just need to give her time, and you need to give yourself time, too.â Ethanâs voice was steady now, reassuring. âYouâre not alone in this. Weâre all here for you, Kyle. Weâre family. Remember that.â
Kyle let out a shaky breath, looking away for a moment, as if trying to make sense of everything swirling around him. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, and for a moment, Ethan thought he might break down again. But instead, Kyle let out a long, quiet breath, his eyes meeting Ethanâs again.
âI just wanted to be the kind of man she deserves,â Kyle whispered, his voice breaking. âAnd now Iâm not even sure Iâm that man anymore.â
Ethan leaned in, his hand resting on Kyleâs shoulder once more, the weight of the moment grounding him. âYou are the man she deserves, Kyle. You just need to believe that yourself.â
Kyle nodded slowly, though doubt still lingered in his eyes. The road ahead was unclear, and the pain wasnât something that could be erased overnight.
The sterile hum of the hospital room was deafening in the silence that hung between them. The nurses had come and gone, the rest of the team had left, and now it was just Kyle and Romy. The room felt smaller, the space between them heavier than it had ever been.
Romy sat on the bed, her hands folded tightly in her lap. The hospital gown was loose around her, but it didnât offer any comfort. She could feel every bruise, every ache, and the emptiness in her chest that she hadnât known how to fill. The loss was suffocating, an ever-present ache that made it hard to breathe.
When he came back to the hospital room, he stood by the window, his back to her, his hands gripping the edge of the sill like he could hold himself together if he just kept holding on. He hadnât said much since the doctorâs visit, his guilt hanging around him like a thick fog. He hadnât looked at her sinceâhe couldnât bring himself to.
For a while, they stayed like that, the silence stretching on, neither of them able to break it.
Finally, Romy spoke, her voice a fragile whisper that still carried the weight of everything theyâd been through.
âI never wanted this,â she said quietly, the words tasting bitter even as she spoke them. âI never wanted to feel this... this empty. I didnât want it to happen like this.â
Kyleâs back stiffened at her words, and he exhaled sharply, his voice tight when he spoke. âYou think I wanted it? You think I wanted to hurt you?â
âNo, I donât think that, Kyle,â she responded quickly, though there was a tremor in her voice. âBut you⊠you were the one whoââ She broke off, closing her eyes, swallowing hard.
Kyle turned around, his face etched with pain, guilt so thick it was suffocating him. âI know. I know itâs my fault. Iââ He stopped, choking on his words. âI didnât see you. I didnât mean to... I shouldâve been better, I shouldâve paid attention.â
âNo.â Romy shook her head, her voice sharp, a defensive edge creeping in despite the grief that twisted inside her. âYou donât get to put it all on yourself. Weâre both in this together. Itâs not just you.â
Her words were like a slap, and they stung, though she didnât mean them the way they came out. The pain, the anger, and the frustration were all tangled up in her, and it felt like it was spilling out of her all at once.
Kyle flinched as if her words physically hurt him. âI put us here, Romy. Iâve been so focused on winning that I didnât see what was right in front of me. I didnât take care of you. I didnât protect us.â
Romyâs breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she thought she might choke on the emotion that flooded her chest. She didnât want to be angry at him. She didnât want to blame him. But she couldnât help itâcouldnât keep it inside anymore.
âWhy did you have to do that?â Her voice cracked as she spoke, and her hands clenched in frustration. âWhy did you have to push it so hard? We were fine, Kyle. We were fine. And now... now everythingâs falling apart.â
The words hung in the air like a heavy, suffocating fog. Kyle opened his mouth to speak but found no words. He had nothing left to say that could fix this.
âI didnât know,â Romy continued, her voice quieter now, the anger giving way to raw, aching sadness. âI didnât know I was pregnant. I had no idea... until it was too late. And now I have to carry that, Kyle. Iâm hurting, but Iâm also... angry. Angry at you. Angry at myself. Angry that everything got out of control so fast.â
Kyle took a step toward her, his hand reaching out in a desperate, instinctive movement. He stopped himself before he could touch her, though, his fingers hovering in the air, as if unsure whether she would accept the gesture.
âI never wanted you to go through this, Romy,â Kyle whispered, the guilt heavy in his words. âIâd do anything to take it back. I swear.â
Tears welled up in Romyâs eyes as she looked up at him. âI donât want to blame you, but itâs hard not to, Kyle. Itâs so hard not to.â
Kyleâs eyes softened, the hurt in his gaze unmistakable. âI know. I get it. You have every right to be angry with me. I ruined everything.â
Romy blinked, fighting back her tears. âI donât even know who I am anymore. I donât know who we are after this. Everythingâs changed. It feels like Iâve lost something Iâll never get back.â
The words were a confession, a revelation she hadnât even known she was ready to admit until now. The loss wasnât just the baby. It was the loss of their future, of the life they could have had. The loss of herself in a way, too.
Kyle finally sat beside her on the bed, his hand carefully brushing against hers. He didnât say anything for a long time, just let the silence sit between them. But his presence, his quiet understanding, was all she needed in that moment.
âI donât know how to fix this,â Kyle murmured, his voice small. âI donât know if I ever can. But Iâll spend the rest of my life trying.â
Romy squeezed his hand, her own voice barely a whisper as she said, âI donât know if I can forgive you, Kyle... not yet.â
The words sliced through him, but they were the truth, and he accepted them. For now, that was enough.
Romy shifted slightly, her head resting against his shoulder, and he let her stay there. They sat in the silence together, the weight of everything heavy between them, knowing they had so much to work through. But in this moment, it was enough just to be there for each other.
They couldnât fix the past, but maybe, just maybe, they could begin to rebuild what was left, one piece at a time.
Author's note :
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24. And I'll rise up, I'll rise like the day, I'll rise up, I'll rise unafraid.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack : Rise Up - Andra Day
Romy sat in her motorhome, her eyes fixed on the view outside. The paddock was buzzing with energy, a chaotic swirl of mechanics, engineers, and fans. The air was thick with the scent of burning rubber and fresh fuel, while the roar of engines reverberated through the walls of the paddock. Beyond the barriers, the sea of fans stretched as far as the eye could see, waving German flags that snapped in the wind. Each flag bore her name and her number â the legacy of a family that had once dominated the sport. A legacy she felt she was both bound by and expected to uphold.
She swallowed hard, her chest tightening as the weight of it all settled on her. What if I mess it up? The thought clung to her like a shadow, darker than the heavy storm clouds gathering in the distance. Her heart raced, but it wasn't the thrill of racing â it was fear. Fear of failure. Fear of disappointing the thousands of people who were here, hoping to witness another victory in the long line of triumphs that had been expected of her since the moment she had first gotten behind the wheel.
âRomy, youâre going to crush it,â Kyle's voice interrupted her thoughts. He leaned casually against the doorframe, a crooked smile on his lips. His presence was a comfort, and yet it made the knot in her stomach tighten even more.
âThanks, Kyle,â she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. She turned her gaze toward him, but the moment she saw his face, the smile didnât quite reach his eyes. She knew that look. He was trying to be positive, trying to give her the pep talk she needed. But the truth was, Kyle wasnât supposed to be here. He shouldâve been out there on the grid, racing alongside her. Instead, he was standing in the doorway, sidelined for the weekend after failing a vision test.
Failed a vision test, Romy thought bitterly, her stomach turning. Of all the reasons to be kept out of the race. She knew Kyle had always been meticulous, always aware of every detail. The idea that something so small could derail his entire season felt unjust. She wanted to be happy for him, to rally behind him the way he had always done for her, but the gnawing sense of guilt was impossible to ignore. I get to race while heâs stuck here with nothing but his thoughts.
It was a thought that twisted her insides. How was it fair that she was living her dream, racing in front of the crowd she had grown up with, while Kyle, who had always supported her, was left standing in the background? Her family was here, the fans were here â the weight of expectation pressing down on her. What if I donât win? She could already hear the murmurs of disappointment that would follow. Her last name, Schumacher, carried with it a legacy that both thrilled and terrified her. Germans had a deep, almost religious reverence for their racing legends, and she had inherited that mantle. Every time she stepped onto the track, she carried not just her own ambitions, but the hopes of an entire nation.
The crowd outside seemed to be growing louder, their chants and cheers reaching a fever pitch. She could hear the hum of anticipation, the sound of flags being waved in unison. The energy was electric â but it felt suffocating. Everyoneâs watching. Everyone expects me to win.
Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel as she pictured herself out there on the track. The rumble of the engine beneath her, the blur of the competitors around her, the sheer force of it all. It should have been exhilarating. But now, with the eyes of the world on her, it felt like a trap. What if I let them down?
Kyleâs voice broke through again, softer this time. âRomy, youâre one of the best out there, and you know it.â He crossed the room, sitting beside her on the edge of the small couch, the comforting weight of his presence beside her. âAnd even if you donât win, theyâre still going to cheer for you like crazy.â
She shook her head, the anxiety eating at her. âItâs not that simple, Kyle. You donât understand. Itâs my home crowd. My family is here, watching me. If I donât win...â
âFirst of all, youâre not going to mess it up,â he interrupted, his tone firm, trying to pull her from the spiraling thoughts. âYouâve already proven youâre the real deal. No oneâs going to think any less of you if it doesnât go perfectly. The fans, your family... theyâre proud of you no matter what.â
Romy glanced at him, really looked at him for the first time in the conversation. She noticed the faint weariness in his eyes, the faintest tremor in his hand as he reached for her shoulder, giving it a gentle nudge.
âHow are you holding up?â she asked softly, her voice quieter now. âWith not racing?â
Kyle hesitated before answering. âIt sucks,â he admitted finally, his voice low. âI failed a vision test because of some stupid thing with my peripheral vision. Canât risk it, not when Iâm hurtling around the track at 200 mph. But hey, better safe than sorry, right?â His attempt at a joke fell flat, and he let out a small laugh, though it didnât reach his eyes.
Romy nodded, understanding. âStill, it must be hard.â
âIt is,â he said, his voice quieter now. âBut thatâs life in this sport. Things change in the blink of an eye. Iâll be back for Spa. Until then, I get to play cheerleader for you.â He grinned, trying to lift her spirits.
She smiled despite herself, the warmth of his words sinking in. âYouâd make a terrible cheerleader.â
âI know,â he replied, his grin widening. âBut Iâll yell the loudest.â
Despite the lightness of his words, the weight of Romyâs nerves didnât dissipate. Outside, the sea of German flags waved, their black, red, and gold colors bright against the gray skies. The roar of the crowd was deafening now, a constant reminder of what was at stake. As she sat there, feeling the tension rise within her, she could almost feel the eyes of the entire nation upon her, waiting, hoping, praying for her to succeed.
And as much as she wanted to push it all away, there was no escaping the truth â the pressure, the legacy, the expectations â it was all part of the game. And right now, that game was more terrifying than thrilling.
Hours before the race, the garage was alive with a symphony of activity. The sound of tire changers spinning in the background, the sharp clicks of tools, and the hum of the engine all combined into a cacophony that was both comforting and maddening. It was the rhythm of a race weekend, a soundtrack Romy had learned to thrive in. But today, despite the familiar buzz, the adrenaline of anticipation, and the technical precision of her crew, something felt off.
Romy sat in the cockpit of her car, her gloved hands wrapped around the steering wheel. The harnesses felt tighter than usual, as if they were pulling her into the seat more than they should. The carbon-fiber body of the car surrounded her like a cage, both protective and confining. The engineers worked feverishly around her, making final adjustments to the car's settings, double-checking tire pressures, and recalibrating the brake balance. She could hear the soft hum of data being transmitted back and forth between the engineers and her race engineer, all of them meticulously fine-tuning every aspect of the car.
Her race engineer's voice came through her earpiece, calm and steady, like a lifeline. âRomy, everything looks good. Just stick to the plan, and youâll be fine.â
She nodded in the helmet, trying to calm her nerves, though her stomach was tight with anticipation. âCopy,â she responded, her voice steady despite the storm of thoughts swirling inside her head. Stick to the plan. Sheâd heard those words a thousand times before, but today they felt like a fragile thread, holding her steady in a world full of swirling uncertainties.
Outside, she caught a glimpse of Kyle on the pit wall. His arms were crossed, and his face was hard to read, but there was a small glint of something â encouragement? Support? He gave her a thumbs-up and mouthed the words, "Youâve got this." It was all she needed to pull herself together, to remind herself that she wasnât in this alone.
As the final minutes ticked away, the nerves in Romyâs chest seemed to tighten further. The engine started, and the low, powerful hum vibrated through her, a familiar sound she had once found calming. But now, with the weight of the crowdâs expectations pressing down on her, every rev seemed to echo in her skull. The crowd was already roaring, their energy filling the air and seeping into the car. She could almost hear their collective heartbeat, like a wave crashing against her.
The lights above the grid flashed, and her focus sharpened. The countdown began.
Five.
Her foot hovered over the clutch, the engine idle beneath her, her hands steady on the wheel.
Four.
Her breath slowed, and she visualized the race ahead: the tight turns, the hairpin curves, the long straights where she could stretch the car's power. She was ready, despite the adrenaline flooding her system.
Three.
No turning back now, she thought, eyes fixed forward. The start was everything.
Two.
She could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, drowned out only by the rising sound of the crowd. Her grip on the wheel tightened.
One.
The lights went out, and with a sharp, explosive release of the clutch, Romy shot off the line, the car responding to her every command. The tires screamed for grip on the asphalt, and she immediately held her position. Her mind flashed through a rapid sequence of maneuvers, calculating the best way to defend her place while keeping her pace steady.
As she raced into the first corner, the car responded smoothly to the input of her foot on the throttle. The tight chicane required precision, and Romy threaded the needle, barely feeling the understeer as she managed to squeeze the car through without losing speed. The crowd's roar surged like a tidal wave in her ears, the vibration from their cheers coursing through the carâs chassis and into her spine. The energy of the home crowd wrapped itself around her, pushing her onward.
Lap 1 was a blur of speed and concentration. Romy felt the tires gradually warming up as she completed each corner, the rear of the car momentarily skittering in the more aggressive turns as she applied throttle too early. But she controlled it, her instincts guiding her as much as the carâs telemetry.
She glanced at the rearview mirror as she came out of Turn 4, and saw a flash of blue and white â Ethan, the driver in second place, was just a few car lengths behind. She knew Ethan well; he was aggressive, fast, and relentless. Every lap, she could feel him close the gap, applying pressure in every braking zone, sticking to her rear wing like a shadow. Her engineerâs voice crackled through her earpiece, âEthan is getting closer, but youâve got this. Keep managing the tires.â
Romy nodded slightly, her foot steady on the throttle as she rounded the tight hairpin at Turn 7, keeping the car as smooth as possible. The tires were crucial now. She could feel them beginning to lose a little of their initial grip â the balance between grip and speed was always delicate.
Conserve the tires, she reminded herself, as she ran the brake balance slightly rearward, allowing the car to rotate more freely through the corners. The tire wear would be key for the next few laps. Sheâd need to be meticulous, to ride that fine line between speed and preservation. Ethan wasnât backing off. She could see his front wing in the mirror as they approached the long back straight.
The wind rushed in through the cockpit as she hit full throttle down the straight. She felt the G-forces pushing her back into the seat, the engine roaring beneath her as she reached for the next gear. Stay calm. Stay smooth. Let the car do the work.
But Ethan was there, closing in fast. He was aggressive in braking zones, diving deep into corners, forcing her to defend more than she liked. The pressure mounted as he repeatedly attempted to slip past her on the inside. At Turn 11, he got a better exit than her and was right on her tail heading into the final chicane.
Romy held her line, her mind calculating the next move. Heâll try to overtake here, she thought. She braked slightly earlier than usual, letting him get close but not enough to take the corner before her. As he dove for the inside, she quickly adjusted her line to block him, keeping the racing line as she powered out of the corner. Her car surged ahead, and for the next few laps, the battle continued in this rhythm â defend, attack, maintain.
Every time Romy managed to edge ahead, the crowdâs roar surged in her chest, fueling her to keep pushing. But every time Ethan seemed to draw closer, she had to fight the creeping anxiety that gripped her. She couldnât afford a mistake. Not now. Not in front of these fans.
Her tires were holding on, but just barely. She adjusted her braking points, trying to be gentler with the pedal, mindful of the wear. The car felt more connected now, the rhythm of the race settling into her bones.
As the laps ticked down, Romy focused on nothing but the track ahead. Every corner, every braking point was a battle she fought silently in the cockpit. The sound of the crowd faded, the vibrations of the carâs power took over her senses, and all that mattered was maintaining that slender edge over Ethan. She could hear her engineerâs voice occasionally through the static, reminding her to focus on tire management, but Romy was already several steps ahead.
This wasnât just about beating Ethan. This was about proving to herself that she could rise above the pressure, rise above the legacy, and handle the weight of every eye watching. Every corner, every lap â it was hers to win. Or lose.
Romyâs heart hammered in her chest, every beat resonating through her body as she raced down the final stretch of the NĂŒrburgring. The track seemed to stretch endlessly before her, the roar of the engine filling her ears, drowning out the world around her. The finish line loomed ahead, the checkered flag waving in the distance. For a moment, everything slowed, the wind against her helmet, the sharp buzz of the carâs engine, and her own breath all melding into one.
She crossed the line, and the world around her exploded into noise. The cheers of the crowd, the frantic calls over the radio, the sharp crackle of the tires as they still spun at full speed. She didnât dare take a breath, her eyes locked on the leaderboard, waiting, hoping for confirmation.
The radio crackled, cutting through the chaos, and her engineerâs voice came through, clear and jubilant. âP1, Romy! Youâve done it! P1!â
Her vision blurred with sudden, hot tears. A laugh broke free from her chest, broken and shaky, as she tightened her grip on the steering wheel so hard that her knuckles turned white. Did I⊠did I really win?
She almost couldnât believe it. Sheâd done it. She had just won the German Grand Prix. Her Grand Prix. The one that carried the weight of her legacy, of her family, of every single fan who had come here today, hoping, waiting for this moment. Her breath was ragged as she spoke, her voice trembling. âDid we⊠did we really win?â
âYou did it, Romy,â the engineer said, his voice filled with emotion. âYouâre the winner of the German Grand Prix.â
When she finally parked and cut the engine, the adrenaline hit her all at once, leaving her shaky and breathless. She barely had time to unbuckle her harness before she scrambled out of the car, the world spinning around her in dizzying waves. She almost fell out of the cockpit in her rush, but the ground felt solid under her feet, the energy of the crowd beneath her like a pulse, vibrating through her.
Her eyes immediately searched for them. And there they were â her parents, standing just beyond the barrier, their faces beaming with pride. Without thinking, Romy ran toward them, the tears that had welled up finally spilling free as she collapsed into their arms. She felt her fatherâs strong embrace, felt her motherâs grip like a lifeline, as if they were trying to keep her anchored to this moment, to this victory that had cost her so much. Her father whispered words of pride into her ear, but they came out muffled, as if everything in the world had softened around her. She couldnât fully process what he was saying; the flood of emotion made it all feel distant, like it was happening to someone else.
For the first time that day, she let herself cry â truly cry â without trying to suppress it. The tears that had been building up for months, for years, burst forth, and Romy finally allowed herself to feel the weight of the moment. The immense relief, the pride, the joy â it was all too much to hold inside. Her family was here, the fans were here, and she had finally done it. She had made them proud.
But as she tried to catch her breath, to steady her emotions, something broke the euphoria. The warmth of her family, the sea of cheering faces, was pierced by a cold, sharp presence. Ethan.
She saw him across the pit, standing with his team, arms crossed, his posture stiff, his face unreadable. Her stomach twisted in an instant, the weight of his gaze pressing on her like a physical force. She tried to ignore him, tried to focus on the crowd, on her parents, on the wave of euphoria that had just consumed her. But it was impossible to block him out. She watched as he stormed toward her, his stride angry, his frustration clear in every step.
When he reached her, his voice cut through the moment like a blade, harsh and accusing. âDid you get anything from the FIA to start celebrating?â he snapped, his tone sharp with frustration.
The words felt like a slap, and Romy flinched, the sudden shift in the mood almost too much to bear. The joy that had felt so pure, so overwhelming, now felt tainted, the shine of the victory dulled by the venom in Ethanâs voice. She forced herself to stand tall, refusing to let his anger chip away at the monumental achievement she had just pulled off. This is my moment, she thought fiercely. I earned this.
Her voice came out steady, though her heart was still pounding in her chest. âI mean⊠I donât need the photo finish to know that I won, Ethan.â She didnât flinch, didnât break eye contact with him, though the sting of his words remained.
âReally?â Ethanâs tone was even colder now, his eyes narrowing. âBecause Maserati is pretty confident the winâs theirs.â
Romy felt a flash of heat in her chest, the insult burning. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Kyleâs voice intervened, sharp and firm. âEthanâŠâ Kyle said, his voice carrying an edge of warning. âHer front wing was ahead. I saw it.â
Ethan turned his gaze to Kyle, and Romy could see the frustration flash in his eyes. "With all due respect, Kyle, I donât trust your eyesight today,â Ethan snapped, his words dripping with condescension.
Romyâs jaw tightened, and the anger bubbled up within her. This wasnât how it was supposed to go. But before she could respond, the protocol officer appeared at the edge of the scene, stepping in to usher them away from the tense confrontation. âPlease, letâs move to the cool room,â the officer said, his voice firm, and without another word, he guided them away from the brewing argument.
As they moved toward the cool room, the bitter taste of Ethanâs words lingered. Why now? Why today? But Romy kept walking, her head held high. She had just won the German Grand Prix. Nothing â not even Ethanâs anger â could take that from her.
Inside the cool room, Romy stood apart, trying to steady her breath. The adrenaline still surged through her veins, but the elation of winning had already begun to feel distant, replaced by the weight of the moment. Her fingers brushed the German flag draped around her shoulders, and in the midst of it all, she caught it just before it slipped to the floor. She couldn't seem to shake the gnawing unease in her chest.
Ethanâs glare was like a laser beam, his eyes fixed on the screen replaying the finish. He was trying to pretend like he wasnât seething, but the sharp lines of his jaw, the tension in his posture â they said everything. And no matter how much she tried to focus on anything else, his frustration wrapped itself around her like an invisible cord. It was impossible to ignore.
Martin, ever the diplomat, tried to break the suffocating silence, his voice light and casual. âThat was still a beautiful fight,â he said, attempting to defuse the tension with a smile.
Romy managed a small smile, appreciating his gesture. But before she could speak, Ethanâs voice cut through the room, bitter and raw. âWouldâve been more beautiful if I was on the top step,â he muttered, his words slicing through the air loud enough for Romy to hear.
Her grip on the flag tightened involuntarily, the fabric twisting between her fingers, the sensation grounding her in a way that helped keep her anger from boiling over. Really? she thought, her mind racing. This is how itâs going to go?
She wanted to snap back, to tell him that he had no right to ruin this moment for her. But instead, she stayed quiet, her breath shaky. His anger isnât really about me, she realized. Itâs not about the race or the win. Itâs about him. About all the things heâs been bottling up since Canada, the weight of the comparisons to his dad, the bad press. But that didnât make it any easier to hear. She had just won the German Grand Prix, and the cloud of Ethanâs bitterness was already threatening to eclipse it.
When it was time for the podium, the roar of the crowd outside reverberated in her chest like a drumbeat. She stepped out, her feet moving almost automatically, and the overwhelming wave of cheers crashed over her like a wave. I did it. I really did it, she thought, the realization settling in.
As the German anthem began to play, she sang along softly, her voice trembling as the tears streamed down her face. She couldn't help it. The weight of the moment, the pride of standing on that podium in front of her home crowd, was too much. Her victory felt complete, and for the briefest of moments, the world seemed perfect.
But then, her eyes flicked over to Ethan.
His face was stone-cold. He held his trophy at armâs length as though it disgusted him, as though the whole thing was beneath him. He didnât even glance at her during the champagne celebration, his eyes fixed on some point far beyond the festivities. When the celebration ended, he was the first to storm off, leaving a trail of anger in his wake.
Romyâs stomach twisted with frustration. This isnât how it was supposed to be, she thought. The joy, the relief, the achievement â it all felt tainted by Ethanâs refusal to let anyone, especially her, enjoy this moment.
âEthan! You forgot your trophy!â she called, her voice ringing down the hallway, catching up with him.
He turned to face her, the coldness in his eyes cutting through her like an icicle. âI donât care. I donât want it,â he muttered, the bitterness in his words enough to make her chest tighten.
Romyâs patience snapped, the frustration sheâd been holding back bubbling to the surface. She took a step closer, her voice low but edged with anger. âNow youâre just being petty.â
âPetty?â Ethanâs voice rose, the sharpness of it making her flinch slightly. âDo you know how important this win was for me? After everythingâCanada, the bad press, the comparisons to my dadâdo you even care?â
His words hit her like a punch to the stomach, a sickening knot forming in her chest. Of course, I care, she thought, but the anger was already rising to meet him. Youâre not the only one whoâs been through hell.
âDo I care?â she repeated, her voice trembling with emotion, but stronger now, laced with the heat of her own frustration. âOf course, I care! But donât you dare act like youâre the only one whoâs had a rough season. Do you have any idea how much pressure I was under to win today? How much Iâve fought for this moment?â
Ethanâs sneer was almost too much to bear. âMust be nice to be the overprotected little princess of Audi,â he spat, his words dripping with venom.
The insult stung, sharp and deep, and for a moment, Romy felt a surge of anger â not just at his words, but at the unfairness of it all. You think Iâm overprotected? You think this was easy for me? Her vision blurred with the intensity of it, but she stood her ground, unwilling to back down.
Her voice came out low, but it was filled with the force of everything sheâd been holding back. âYou hate being compared to your dad, and yet you think itâs fair to reduce me to my name? You donât know half of what Iâve been through!â
At the words, Ethanâs expression faltered, but it quickly twisted into something darker. âAt least your dad shows up for your races,â he snapped. âMineââ
âMaybe if you werenât such an ass, heâd be proud of you!â The words came out of her mouth before she could stop them, and once they were said, she didnât regret them. The anger poured from her like a river breaking through a dam.
There was a long, suffocating silence that followed, thick with the weight of her words. The air in the hallway felt electric, charged with the intensity of their confrontation. Romyâs breath was shallow, her pulse thudding in her ears.
Maybe she shouldnât have said it. Maybe she shouldnât have pushed so hard. But the pain in Ethanâs eyes â the resentment heâd been holding onto â was too much. He had wanted to drag her down with him, and for once, she wasnât going to let him.
âMaybe if people are giving up on you, itâs because youâre the problem,â she added, her voice quieter now, but no less sharp.
Ethanâs face fell, his anger momentarily slipping into something darker, something more hurt. He opened his mouth to respond, but Romy didnât wait for him. She pushed past him, her shoulder colliding with his as she moved toward the exit.
She barely registered Kyleâs voice calling her name, soft and steady as always, trying to offer comfort, trying to mediate. But she didnât want comfort. Not right now. She needed space, needed to escape the suffocating tension that Ethan had created. She needed to be alone.
By the time she reached her motorhome, she was shaking, her chest tight with a mixture of anger, frustration, and exhaustion. As she collapsed onto the couch, the German flag slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her like a reminder of both the victory she had earned and the bitter taste of what she had just lost.The weight of the triumph, so sweet in the moments after the race, felt hollow now. Ethanâs words, his anger, the sting of his accusations â they clouded everything, made the win feel like it was tainted. What was supposed to be the happiest day of my career⊠She let out a shaky breath, curling her knees to her chest. How could it feel so empty now?
23. Man, oh man, youâre my best friend. I scream into the nothingness
Summary : Kyle Dawson would never be more than a childhood crush to Romy Schumacher and she had made her peace with that fact a long time ago. But when a drunken night leads her to wake up next to him, new and old feelings come back to the surface, and what started as a mistake quickly becomes a habit. Even if she swore to herself that she would never fall again for the world champion, her heart had other plans. After all, the heart has its reasons, of which reason knows nothing.
Masterlist - Previously - Next
Chapter soundtrack : Home - Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros
The warm sun greeted Romy and Kyle as they stepped off the plane, the humid air carrying a refreshing, salty scent that wrapped around them like a soft embrace. The Maldives spread out before them in all its postcard-perfect gloryâthe crystal-clear waters, white sandy beaches, and the gently swaying palm trees creating an idyllic backdrop. The vibrant colors of the ocean seemed to erase every lingering thought in Romyâs mind. The peacefulness of it all settled her, calming her frayed nerves and giving her a chance to breathe.
Romy had desperately needed this. The weeks before their trip had been filled with too much responsibility, too much worry. She had given all her energy to Juliaâbeing the strong, supportive friend she neededâwhile balancing her own guilt over Kyle and the growing tension she felt in her relationship. Her emotions were a tangled mess, and the weight of it all had begun to wear on her. The Maldives, with its perfect stillness, was just what she needed.
Kyle, on the other hand, had been equally consumed by his own pressures. The season had weighed heavily on himâhis responsibilities as an F1 driver, the ever-present pressure to perform, and the personal toll it had taken on him as he watched Ethan and Julia's relationship fall apart. There hadnât been a single moment where heâd been able to step back and just be himself, just enjoy life without the constant scrutiny of the paddock.
Now, finally, here they wereâfar from the chaos of their usual lives. They werenât just taking a vacation; they were escaping to a place where they could forget the demands of the world around them and focus on each other. There were no interviews to attend, no media circus to navigate, no responsibilities pulling at Kyle. For the first time in ages, he could just relax, without the weight of expectations hanging over him.
âI canât believe weâre here,â Kyle said as they walked toward their private villa, his excitement palpable. His eyes sparkled, a genuine, carefree joy radiating from him. He pulled Romy into his side, pressing a quick kiss to her temple as they strolled down the beach. âThis is exactly what we needed. No worries, just us.â
Romy looked at him, her heart swelling with affection. She could see the tension starting to leave his shoulders, the weight of the past few months lifting with every step they took on the soft sand. For once, he wasnât the Formula 1 driverâthe public figure who had to be constantly on alert. In this moment, he was just Kyleâthe man she loved, standing beside her in paradise.
âI couldnât have imagined anything better,â she said, her voice light and airy as she squeezed his hand, the simple gesture grounding her in the present moment.
They arrived at the villa, a sleek and modern space that felt like it belonged in a dream. Romy took a deep breath, savoring the view of the turquoise ocean stretching endlessly before them, the gentle breeze tousling her hair. The air felt different hereâlighter, freer, as if the troubles of the world couldnât reach them in this oasis.
Kyle dropped his bag and moved toward the pool, glancing back at her with a grin. âHow about we make the most of this and jump in?â
Romy laughed, her worries slipping away with each second she spent here with him. She walked over to the edge of the pool, taking in the view of the beach and the endless horizon. It felt surreal to be here, away from everythingâthe paddock, the chaos, the heavy emotional burdens. For the first time in a long time, it was just them, existing in their little bubble of tranquility.
âYou know,â Kyle said, breaking her reverie, âI really think we deserve this. After everything. All the stress. All the pressure weâve been under.â He stepped toward her, a playful glint in his eyes. âItâs about time we take a moment to just⊠be happy. Together.â
Romy felt her chest tighten with gratitude. âYouâre right,â she said softly, her gaze meeting his. âThis is exactly what we both need. A chance to breathe. A chance to just be us. No expectations. No distractions.â
Kyle smiled, pulling her into a warm embrace, his fingers gently brushing her hair. The tenderness in his touch reminded her of why sheâd chosen himâwhy sheâd always chosen him. He was her calm in the storm, her safe place when everything around them felt like it was spinning out of control.
Together, they stood in that peaceful moment, embracing the stillness of the world around them and the quiet joy they found in just being together. Here, in the Maldives, they didnât have to worry about anything. They were just two people in love, finally allowed to relax, to laugh, to rediscover each other without the weight of the world on their shoulders.
For Romy, this trip wasnât just a vacationâit was a reset, a chance to find her way back to herself. It was a chance to reconnect with Kyle, to rebuild the intimacy theyâd both longed for, without distractions. The days ahead promised nothing but sunshine, freedom, and the possibility of new beginnings.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Romy allowed herself to fully embrace the happiness she shared with Kyle. In the Maldives, surrounded by paradise, she had permission to live in the momentâand maybe, just maybe, to let her heart open up to whatever came next.
The day passed in a blur of tropical adventures, each moment more exhilarating than the last. Romy and Kyle had spent the morning snorkeling, diving into the crystal-clear waters with nothing but the sound of their own breath and the gentle splashes of waves around them. The coral reefs stretched beneath them, vibrant and alive with colorful fish darting between rocks, and the occasional sea turtle gliding by. The sunlight broke through the waterâs surface in shimmering beams, illuminating everything in its golden glow.
Kyle swam ahead with his usual confidence, his movements smooth and sure as he pointed out a massive stingray gliding effortlessly beneath them. âLook at that!â he called, his voice filled with excitement. âThatâs a beauty!â
Romy floated a little behind, eyes wide, her body still getting used to the unfamiliarity of the open water. Her heart raced every time she ventured just a little farther from the safety of the shallow sandbar. The deep blue water felt both inviting and intimidating, and her nerves kicked in each time she glanced at the swirling, endless expanse.
âCome on, babe!â Kyle waved her over with a teasing grin, his voice full of playful encouragement. âThe reef is amazing! You donât want to miss this!â
Romy hesitated, staring at the deep, dark water ahead. She could see the schools of fish darting around the rocks below, the lure of adventure pulling at her, but her feet felt heavy, as though the ocean was asking her to dive into the unknown. She bit her lip and shifted uncomfortably in the shallow water.
Kyle noticed, swimming back to her in lazy strokes, his brows furrowing slightly with concern. âHey, are you okay?â he asked, his voice soft but still playful. âYouâre not scared, are you?â
Romy gave a small, embarrassed laugh, shaking her head. âI donât know... I think Iâm just a little nervous,â she admitted, offering him a sheepish smile. âIâve never really been out this far before.â
Kyle raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing smile. âYouâre a little scared of a fish? Babe, youâve faced much scarier things than this.â He swam closer, his hand outstretched, his thumb brushing gently over her palm. âBut itâs okay. Iâve got you.â
Romy glanced at his hand for a moment before taking it, her nerves softening as she felt his reassuring touch. His presence grounded her, and she realized that, with him by her side, the world didnât seem so overwhelming. Kyle gently pulled her through the water, guiding her step by step, until they reached the deeper part of the reef.
âThis is it,â Kyle said, his voice low with excitement as he held her close. âLook around, babe. This is the real deal.â
Romy looked down at the reef, her eyes widening as she took in the beauty beneath themâthe corals in every shade of orange, pink, and purple, the tiny fish weaving between the plants like they were part of a delicate dance. The water around them was an intoxicating blue, the world above their heads faded away, and all that was left was the peaceful silence beneath the surface, broken only by their breathing and the occasional splash.
For a moment, Romy forgot her worries entirely. She didnât feel the nervousness she had earlier; there was no more hesitation. She felt light, as though the ocean itself was cradling her, and Kyleâs steady presence beside her made her feel safe.
âThis is nice,â she murmured, her voice softer now, a smile tugging at her lips. âI think Iâm starting to get it.â
Kyle laughed, his voice warm and easy. âTold you itâs amazing. You were acting all nervous, but look at you now. Youâre practically a pro.â
Romy rolled her eyes playfully, giving him a light nudge with her shoulder. âYouâre such a show-off,â she teased, her voice light with affection. âBut seriously, this is incredible. You were right.â
Kyle grinned, pulling her a little closer, his arms wrapping protectively around her waist. âI told you youâd love it. Itâs the best way to see the world. Just us, the water, and no distractions.â
They floated together, the gentle current carrying them along, and Romy felt her heart settle into a peaceful rhythm. In that moment, she wasnât worried about Julia or Kyleâs career or the future. She was just here, in this serene paradise, with the man she loved, feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin and the calm of the ocean around them.
Kyleâs hand slipped to her back, his fingers tracing slow patterns across her skin. âI love that I get to share this with you,â he murmured, his voice tender.
Romy looked up at him, her heart swelling with affection. âMe too,â she whispered, her fingers brushing the edge of his jaw. âThis is exactly what we needed.â
He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for just a second longer than usual. âExactly,â he agreed. âJust you, me, and the ocean. No stress. No responsibilities. Just us.â
And in that moment, surrounded by the endless blue and the love between them, everything felt right.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, Romy and Kyle walked side by side along the beach, their feet sinking slightly into the soft sand. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the shore seemed to lull everything into a peaceful rhythm. The air was warm, but not stifling, carrying with it the sweet scent of saltwater and flowers.
Romy looked at Kyle, her heart lifting in her chest. There was something so simple, so grounding about walking with him like this, no distractions, just the two of them in the quiet of the moment.
Kyleâs hand found hers, his fingers curling around hers in a familiar, comforting way. âThis is perfect,â he murmured, his voice low, almost to himself.
Romy smiled, feeling the same way. Everything about this moment was exactly what she needed. They had escaped to a place where nothing mattered except themâno work, no family dramas, no distractions. Just the beauty of the Maldives, the tranquility of the ocean, and the warmth of the man beside her.
When they reached the spot where Kyle had arranged their dinner, Romyâs breath caught in her throat. A table had been set up right by the water, candles flickering softly, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything. The sound of a distant guitar drifted toward them, adding a touch of elegance to the already magical setting.
âYou went all out,â Romy said, her voice filled with awe as she glanced around, unable to take it all in. The table was surrounded by palm trees, their fronds swaying gently in the breeze. It felt like something out of a dream.
Kyle grinned, his eyes sparkling with pride. âAnything for my girl,â he replied, pulling out her chair and making sure she was comfortable before taking his own seat.
Romy sat back, taking in the beauty of the moment. The ocean stretched endlessly in front of them, the colors of the sky melting into one another, creating a perfect canvas. The quiet hum of the guitar played in the background, as though it was meant just for them.
They dug into the meal, savoring each bite. But it wasnât just the food that made the evening specialâit was the way Kyle looked at her, the way their conversation flowed effortlessly. The easy banter, the deep talks, and everything in between. It felt like they were the only two people on Earth, and the rest of the world could wait.
âYou know,â Kyle said, his voice suddenly softening as he reached across the table, taking her hand in his, âIâm just so happy weâre here.â
Romy looked at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his eyes. The warmth of his touch, the gentleness of his voiceâit made her feel safe, loved, and incredibly lucky.
âI know,â she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. âItâs been a crazy few weeks, hasnât it? With everything with Julia and⊠just life. But now, with you? Everything just feels right.â
Kyle squeezed her hand gently, his thumb brushing the back of her palm. âThe worldâs been insane lately,â he agreed. â Iâve never felt more at peace than I do right now, sitting here with you.â
Romyâs heart skipped a beat. She felt the same way. The chaos of the last few months had worn her down, but in this moment, with the ocean breeze and the soft glow of the candles around them, everything else melted away. All that mattered was what was right in front of her.
She squeezed his hand back, her voice soft and full of feeling. âYou make me feel so loved, Kyle. I donât think Iâve ever truly understood what it meant to have someone by your side the way you are. Youâre everything I needed and more.â
Kyleâs gaze softened, and he brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingers lingering against her skin. âYou deserve all of it, Romy. Youâve been through so much. Youâre stronger than you know, but you deserve happiness. You deserve someone who will take care of you the way you take care of everyone else.â
Romy blinked back tears, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of his words. She had never felt so seen, so cherished, and it made her realize just how much she had been longing for this kind of loveâquiet, steady, and unwavering.
âThank you,â she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. âThank you for being here with me, for making me feel like I matter.â
Kyleâs smile was gentle but full of love. âYou matter more than you know,â he said softly. âAnd Iâm so glad I get to be the one to make you feel that way.â
They sat there for a moment, just holding each otherâs gaze, the quiet of the beach wrapping around them like a cocoon. The sound of the guitar playing in the distance, the soft crash of the waves, and the warmth of Kyleâs hand in hers made Romy feel like the luckiest woman in the world.
For once, everything was as it should be. The future seemed bright, full of possibilities, and Romy knew that no matter what came next, she wasnât alone. Not anymore.
Later that night, after dinner, the soft glow of the moon reflected on the waves as they walked hand-in-hand down to the beach. The sound of the oceanâs gentle rhythm filled the air, a perfect soundtrack to the quiet beauty of the island. They found a secluded spot, far from the resort lights, and laid out a blanket on the soft, cool sand.
Romy nestled beside Kyle, their bodies close but not yet touching. The stars above them were a breathtaking canvas, each one twinkling as if it were a secret just for them. Kyle was the first to break the silence, his voice calm, almost dreamlike.
âYou know,â he began, his words drifting through the air like the cool breeze, âIâve always wanted to have kids someday. A little family, you know? Itâs funny to think about, but I can picture it.â
Romyâs heart skipped a beat at his words. For a moment, she felt her breath catch in her chest. The idea of a family with him, a future beyond the present, was something she hadnât allowed herself to truly think about before. She turned her head to look at him, but his eyes were fixed on the stars, unaware of the weight of his words.
âYeah?â she asked, her voice quiet but soft with curiosity.
Kyle smiled, his gaze never leaving the sky. âYeah. Not right now, but⊠someday. It just feels like something I want, you know?â
Romy swallowed, her chest tightening. âI get it,â she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. The idea of having a future with Kyle, building something together, made her feel both excited and vulnerable. But she knew this moment was one of those rare, perfect ones where everything felt possible.
Kyle finally turned his head to meet her eyes, his face soft and sincere. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch gentle and lingering. âIâve never really said this, but I know youâre it for me, Romy. I want everything with you. Whatever that looks like.â
Romy closed her eyes, feeling the weight of his words deep in her chest. She leaned in, her lips brushing his in a soft, tender kiss. It started slow, almost tentative, but quickly grew deeper as their bodies instinctively pressed closer together. The kiss ignited something between them, and Romyâs pulse raced as she pulled him closer, feeling his warmth against her.
Kyleâs hands roamed to her waist, slipping beneath the fabric of her sundress. His touch was warm and sure, sending sparks of heat through her body. His fingers trailed up her sides, grazing the bare skin of her ribs, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. His lips left hers to trail along her neck, his kisses light but hungry, and Romy couldnât help but let out a soft gasp.
âKyleâŠâ she murmured, her body instinctively arching toward him.
He smiled against her skin, the heat of his lips spreading to every part of her. âWhat is it, baby?â he asked, his voice rougher now, full of desire.
Romy met his gaze, her body burning with the need to be closer. âDonât stop,â she whispered, her hands sliding to the back of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.
The kiss deepened, both of them breathing harder now, as Kyleâs hand slid to her thigh, his fingers brushing the soft skin there. Romyâs entire body seemed to react to his touch, a fire igniting that she hadnât known she needed. She let out a breathy moan, feeling herself respond to the warmth and intensity of his body against hers.
Kyle pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against hers, his breath mingling with hers as they both struggled to catch their breath. âAre you sure?â he asked, his voice thick with desire but laced with tenderness.
Romyâs heart raced, but there was no hesitation in her voice. âYes.â
With that, Kyle leaned in again, his hands moving with intent, undressing her slowly, giving her time to process, to want it. She followed his lead, her hands moving to undo his shirt, eager to feel him against her. Every touch was a spark, every kiss a promise. They kissed, touched, and whispered in a dance of passion under the moonlit sky, with the waves crashing around them, as if the world had slowed down just for them.
When they finally found their rhythm, the world outside disappeared. There was only the soft rush of the ocean and the connection between them, stronger than either had imagined. The night stretched on, an endless, perfect moment between two people who were learning just how much they needed each other.
Afterward, lying side by side, the cool breeze kissed their heated skin. Romy rested her head on Kyleâs chest, her heart still racing from the intensity of the moment. She felt whole, utterly connected, and she realized, somewhere deep inside her, that this momentâthis nightâwas the beginning of something more than sheâd ever expected.
Kyleâs fingers brushed through her hair as he kissed the top of her head. âI never want this to end,â he whispered.
Romy smiled, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in her heart. âMe neither,â she whispered back. And for the first time in a long while, she felt completely at peace.