I’ll do anything to make you happy
Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.
Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.
The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.
But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.
After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.
At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.
We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.
Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.
We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.
“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.
“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.
Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.
But soon, reality began creeping in.
It started innocently enough.
“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.
“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”
I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.
Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”
“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.
That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.
By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.
But karting soon turned into golf.
Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.
“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.
I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.
He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?
But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.
One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.
I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.
When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.
“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.
“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”
“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.
“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”
My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”
He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.
I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.
The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.
But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.
Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.
Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.
One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.
“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.
I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.
“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”
Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”
“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”
Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.
“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.
“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”
He frowned, reaching for my hand.
“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”
I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.
“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”
And just like that, he was gone. Again.
I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.
Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.
I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.
The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.
I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.
My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.
I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.
Today was our second anniversary.
I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.
I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.
He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.
I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.
Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.
A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.
The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.
Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:
“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”
My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.
He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?
We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.
I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.
After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.
My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.
Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.
I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.
The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.
Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.
I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.
Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.
On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.
Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.
With everything ready, I checked the clock.
It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.
I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.
My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.
I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.
Five minutes passed. Then ten.
By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”
An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.
My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.
Where was he? Had he forgotten?
The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.
The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.
Finally, three hours later, I gave up.
Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.
My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.
I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.
It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.
He looked happy. Carefree.
And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.
The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.
I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.
The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.
He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.
The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.
He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.
The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.
Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.
He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.
Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.
The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.
His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:
"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."
The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.
Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.
Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.
He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.
He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.
You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.
Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.
Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.
He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.
He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.
His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.
With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.
When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.
The time stamps told the story of your evening:
“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m.
“I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m.
“Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m.
“Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.
The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.
Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.
He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.
Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.
His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.
His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.
The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.
Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.
She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.
Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.
Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.
His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.
“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.
“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”
She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.
Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.
Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.
The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.
My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.
I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.
Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.
Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.
The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.
With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.
Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.
The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.
There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.
"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."
I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.
As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.
There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.
Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.
It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.
“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.
I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”
He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.
“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.
My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.
I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.
“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.
I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.
Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.
I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.
“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.
“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.
I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.
“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,
“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”
His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.
“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”
I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.
“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.
“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”
Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.
“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”
Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.
“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.
I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.
The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.
“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.
“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,
“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”
I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.
“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”
“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”
“I know,” he said, nodding.
“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”
The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.
I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.
I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.
As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.
He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.
I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.
Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.
The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.
While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.
As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.
“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.
We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.
But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.
“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.
“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”
I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”
“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.
From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.
When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.
“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.
Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.
The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.
“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.
“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.
“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”
Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.
I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.
“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.
“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.
It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.
By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.
From there, we stopped at a flower shop.
Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.
“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.
“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.
For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.
He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.
He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.
“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.
“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.
Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.
His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.
By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.
We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.
Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.
“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.
His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.
“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.
“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”
His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.
“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.
“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”
My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.
“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.
“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”
“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.
I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”
The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.
Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.
“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.
I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.
“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.
“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.
I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.
My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.
“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.
He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”
Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.
“You didn’t have to do this…”
“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.
“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”
I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.
We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.
After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.
“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.
Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”
And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.
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