#holdmyhandfa

Remember those walls I built? Well, baby, they're tumblin' down And they didn't even put up a fight They didn't even make a sound I found a way to let you in But I never really had a doubt Standin' in the light of your halo I got my angel now

Fernando was sitting on the couch, finally relaxing after that first part of the season, he had been eagerly waiting for the summer break, he really needed to recharge, not only was the Championship proving particularly difficult, but the whole situation with Martina had absorbed his energy and his time in a way he was not used to.

He was calm, he was happy to have her by his side, but it was not easy to find the right balance with someone who had suffered so much, with someone who, even now, sometimes feared being nothing more than a burden to others.

He had watched her change, slowly, become more relaxed, more confident.

The report and the beginning of the investigation had been difficult moments, statements, meetings with the lawyer, he had seen her suffer, but at the same time react with strength, with a resilience she was bringing out little by little.

He had returned from his trip the evening before, Martina had been back at work for a while, at that moment she was taking a shower after a shift that had exhausted her.

But she was starting to live again, to be a twenty-eight-year-old woman capable of lightness, laughter, of everything life at that age was supposed to be.

Things between them were moving forward, it was strange, different from any other relationship, sometimes difficult, because he was not entirely sure how to handle it, but he had realized that he had fallen in love with that girl.

With her endless sweetness, with the strength she had in facing everything life had thrown at her, he loved the way she looked at him... As if he were her whole world, the way she curled up against him, the way she spoke to him with kindness, the way she made him feel loved with nothing more than a glance or a caress.

Martina stepped out of the shower and slipped into her underwear and a comfortable white dress, she was calm and happy that Fernando had come back, she had missed him a lot, and the night before, when he had come home, she had lost herself in the embrace he had given her.

They had lain in bed talking and then she had fallen asleep in his arms, stretched out beside him, as had been happening far too often lately.

But that morning, when she had woken up and felt him beside her, Martina had realized that there was nothing strange anymore, nothing that made her uncomfortable about having Fernando so close to her.

Almost two months had passedsince she had closed the most painful chapter of her life, and she had started coming to terms with herself, with her fears, with her body, not alone of course, but with the help of her psychologist who was doing even more for her than she had hoped.

Martina walked out of the room and saw him there on the couch, handsome in a way that sometimes hurt, she stood still for a moment looking at that incredible, patient man... Who never did anything that could hurt her or make her uncomfortable, and she smiled.

She slowly walked over until she was standing in front of him.

"Hello, beautiful..." Fernando smiled when he saw her.

"Hello, champion," Martina smiled, sitting on his lap with a naturalness that surprised him for a moment.

"Feeling better after a shower?" the man asked with a smile and she nodded as she looked at him. "What is it?" he asked, stroking her arm.

"Nothing," Martina replied with a smile. "Just... I'm happy you're back," she continued softly.

"Me too, I missed you, doc..." Fernando replied with a smile.

"I've been thinking a lot lately, you know? About billions of things, about me, about my life before, about the one I have now, about us..." she continued.

"And what do you think about us?" he asked curiously.

"I think you're an incredible man..." she replied, searching every corner of her body for courage. "That you make me happy... That I want to make love with you..." she admitted at last.

Fernando stayed still, his hands on her hips as he looked at her for a moment. "Marty..." he began.

"...I don't feel like I have to do it," she interrupted before he could continue. "I feel like I want to do it every time I'm near you..." she continued. "...and yes, it makes me a little nervous because... because yes... But it doesn't scare me, not anymore..."

He gently stroked her arm, it was a huge decision, an enormous step for her and he could only imagine how much strength it took for her to tell him those things.

"I want you too," he said after a moment. "...you know that, but it's important that you... that you're sure."

"I am," she replied with a smile. "Because I want to forget what his hands felt like on me and remember only yours," she added softly, leaning forward to kiss him, and he immediately responded with something different, with a little of the passion he had perhaps kept inside until that moment.

"We can stop..." Fernando said, pulling back slightly. "...whenever you want, at any moment..." he said, trying to keep control, even though she looked breathtaking sitting on him like that, with one strap of her dress slipping down her shoulder and her lips only inches from his.

"Okay..." Martina replied. "...if it's too much, I'll tell you..." she added before sliding a little closer, pressing herself against him and drawing a very telling sigh from him. "...is it okay with you?" she asked, receiving no answer, only feeling his hands move a little lower than her waist as he pulled her even closer before beginning to kiss her.

"Let me show you how much, doc..." he smiled, barely breaking away from her mouth before standing up from the couch, carrying her with him to the bedroom where he let her fall onto the bed.

He had to take it slow, keep under control the desire he had built up over all those months, it couldn't be rushed, it couldn't be too intense, she had to feel comfortable and Fernando wanted to do everything he could to make that happen.

He started by kissing her neck, then moving lower and lowering her dress, he listened to her, paying attention to every breath, every movement, ready to stop if he sensed anything that made her uncomfortable.

But it never happened.

He heard her moan when he started caressing her, gasp when he moved down to kiss her, stroking her legs while she buried her hands in his hair, whispering his name, and in the end he felt her respond to every movement as they made love, looking at each other the entire time until she finally closed her eyes and threw her head back when, at last, she could no longer hold back.

-

"Everything okay?" Fernando asked, stroking her back. Martina was pressed against him, curled up with her head on his shoulder and her eyes closed.

"I can't feel my legs anymore," she replied quietly, and he laughed.

"And not my arms either... And I think quite a few other parts of my body too," she smiled again, opening her eyes to look at him.

"Then I did my job well," he joked, turning to kiss her until she was lying back down with her back against the mattress.

"Very well, I'd say," Martina smiled, running her fingers through his hair.

Fernando stopped to look at her.

"You know you're beautiful? Are you... happy?" he asked, stealing another kiss.

"Very..." she admitted.

She felt grateful, immensely grateful to be beside him.

She had taken the leap, not without some fear, because she trusted him and wanted to break through that wall of fear she carried with her, and it had been the right decision.

They had made love with passion, with tenderness, and yes, she had truly understood how much he liked her, he had shown her with every word, every caress.

Martina couldn't even remember that it could be like this.

Without having to be careful about how you move, about what you say, simply with the desire for that, the desire to do it with the person you love.

Because that was the truth, by now there was no point hiding it, she loved that man more than anything, and not out of gratitude, but out of love, and nothing else.

"Me too," he admitted, brushing her hair away from her face. "And the more I discover about you, the more I like."

He lay back down again, pulling her against him.

"You know, I was thinking that... maybe we could spend a few days on a boat in the next few days, what do you think? Can you take some time off?" Fernando asked, relaxing as he stroked her back.

"Yeah... Roby pretty much lets me do whatever I want lately," she laughed. "And I'd already booked vacation time in August months ago, so..."

"Good... Then later I'll arrange for them to rent us a boat and we'll disappear out into the middle of the sea, just the two of us..." Fernando commented with a smile, kissing the top of her head.

Martina snuggled closer and kissed his cheek.

"Thank you," she said very quietly, almost to herself.

"There's nothing you need to thank me for, Marty," he replied. " You have no idea how good you are for me…"

Martina smiled.

"You know it's strange hearing you say that to me, right?" she asked, lifting her face to look at him. "Fer, I'm here with you, without... without any fear at all, we made love and God... I loved it so much," she laughed, embarrassed. "And now you want to take me away on a dream vacation on some incredible yacht... This isn't my life..."

"It wasn't, it is now that I've fallen in love with you..." he replied, looking at her. "...and it can only get better, doc... Just think about tomorrow morning when you wake up after making love all night long." he laughed and she burst out laughing too.

"Is that your plan?" she asked, blushing.

"First I was thinking we'd have dinner..., then making love to you in the kitchen..." Fernando said, kissing her neck. "...then maybe on the couch, if you'd like, doc... and ending the evening... well..."

He lowered his voice and whispered in her ear what he had in mind.

"Fer!" she exclaimed, blushing even more.

"You don't agree with my plan?" he asked innocently.

"Maybe I do..." she replied, amused.

"Tell me if I go too far, okay?" he asked, becoming more serious. "Sometimes... I'm an idiot, I know..."

"It's okay... Because everything feels normal with you..." she replied. "...even this, even intimacy, even sex, nothing feels wrong..."

"It never should, okay?" he continued. "Never... If anything ever feels... if it isn't exactly how you want it to be... you have to tell me, okay?"

"Okay..." she agreed, letting him wrap his arms around her again.

-

Martina slowly opened her eyes, remaining still for a few seconds.

The room was still immersed in the dim light of the early morning, the sun was only just beginning to filter through the curtains and Fernando was still asleep beside her, deeply asleep.

She smiled.

For a few moments she simply watched him, feeling deeply immature as she wondered whether she had really just made love with that man, with that incredible body and a face that seemed too handsome even for the cover of a magazine, and she blushed to herself thinking about the night they had just spent together, about what they had done, about the way they had done it.

Fernando looked peaceful, one arm folded beneath the pillow, his hair messy and that incredibly satisfied expression that only a night like that can give you.

Martina moved carefully so she wouldn't wake him and slipped out of bed, pulling on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts, gathering her hair into a ponytail before leaving the bedroom.

The house was quiet, but not with the kind of silence you're afraid to break, because so many times it had been like that, so many times silence had felt both like a friend and an enemy, because the first sound could shatter her peace.

For a moment she stood in the middle of the living room, enjoying that feeling.

Silence.

Peace.

Normality.

She couldn't remember the last time she had felt like that.

She walked over to the stereo and, after spending a few seconds scrolling through Fernando's playlist, started some music at the lowest possible volume.

A gentle melody, something that filled the house without really breaking the silence.

Spritz appeared almost immediately and crossed the hallway with the offended expression of someone who had clearly been abandoned all night.

"Good morning to you too," Martina laughed, bending down to pet him. "I know, I know. You're hungry."

Spritz responded by rubbing himself against her leg.

She poured some kibble into his bowl and stood watching him eat, then she went into the kitchen and put the coffee on, leaning against the counter while she waited for it to be ready.

That was when her gaze fell on the reflection in the window in front of her and she stopped to look at herself.

She wasn't that different, she was still the same Martina, the same eyes, the same hair, the same body.

And yet something had changed, something enormous.

She thought again about the night before, about the laughter, about how naturally she had sat on Fernando's lap and about what she had told him.

About the fear she had felt because she truly didn't know what it would be like, after spending so long thinking of sex as something she gave to someone else without perhaps ever really wanting it herself.

With Fernando it hadn't been a scene from a movie, it hadn't been perfect, it hadn't been magical.

But it had been wonderful because it had been normal, natural and right.

She closed her eyes for a moment, for years she had thought there was something wrong with her, that she was always the problem, that she should learn to pretend better, to push her fears down and keep going.

And yet that morning she was there, standing in Fernando Alonso's kitchen, with coffee bubbling on the stove, a cat eating in the living room and a song playing softly in the background, and she felt good.

Simply good.

The coffee finished brewing and she smiled, wondering whether maybe that was happiness, something simple, waking up next to the man you love and making coffee, without grand moments or extraordinary gestures.

Maybe that was exactly what it was, and happiness was an ordinary morning, one of those mornings when you're not afraid of anything and you can simply breathe, while the cat eats and the music plays softly in the living room.

She heard footsteps behind her and didn't even need to turn around.

She simply smiled.

"Good morning, champion," she said softly.

"Good morning, doc," came the sleepy, warm reply as Fernando's arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked after a yawn.

"A little while," she replied with a smile, turning her face toward him.

"I was exhausted, you know? You completely wore me out last night, doc..." he said quietly, in a tone Martina had never heard from him before, one that sent tingles all over her skin.

"I hope in a good way..." she commented.

"The best way, mi amor..." he smiled, kissing her shoulder, "...but I need coffee," he added jokingly as he pulled away to grab the mugs.

And Martina watched him for another moment, thinking that, maybe, happiness was just him.

It's like I've been awakened Every rule, I had you breakin' The risk that I'm takin' I'm never gonna shut you out Everywhere I'm lookin' now I'm surrounded by your embrace Baby, I can see your halo You know you're my savin' grace You're everything I need and more It's written all over your face Baby, I can feel your halo Pray it won't fade away Halo - Beyoncè

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Fernando and Roberto walked back into the apartment, closing the door behind them.

“Do you feel better?” the doctor asked, looking at him, and the driver shrugged.

“For what it’s worth, a little...” he admitted. “I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he added, walking into the kitchen and pulling two beers out of the fridge.

“We have to tell her she needs to report him,” he said then, opening his bottle and taking a sip.

“Easy,” Roberto stopped him, doing the same. “She has to report him, obviously, but we can’t make her feel cornered, okay? Daniela is documenting everything, the bruises and the injuries. When the time comes, we’ll need them as evidence.”

“Evidence? What evidence do we need? She…”

“...Fernando...” Roberto immediately cut him off, looking at him. “When she reports him, hell is going to start.”

Fernando stayed still, looking at him.

“Interrogations, uncomfortable questions, inappropriate questions that will hurt,” Roberto continued. “He’ll defend himself by denying everything, I’m sure of it, and we’ll be there telling people what we saw, but he’ll have his own people too. And Martina will end up under the worst microscope you can imagine, repeating and recounting dozens of times every single time he hurt her, with details she’s probably trying to forget and that she’ll be forced to remember.”

Fernando remained still, looking at him.

He had made it sound simple in his head, going to the police, having him arrested and that would be it.

But it wasn’t like that.

“We need to give her time to be ready to face him, because all of this will be long, everything before and then the trial too,” Roberto continued. “So one thing at a time, think about keeping her safe right now.”

“She can stay here as long as she wants,” Fernando answered and then sighed. “If she wants to, obviously...” he continued before being interrupted by Daniela walking into the kitchen. Both men looked at her and silence fell.

The woman didn’t say anything and only lowered her eyes.

“She took a shower and changed, she’ll come out in a minute. I tried to... document what I could,” she said after a moment and then sighed. “And at this point I’d just like to walk across the hall and smash that idiot’s face in.”

“He already took care of that,” Roberto said, pointing at Fernando while the woman looked at them in surprise. “You should’ve seen the right hook he landed...”

Daniela smiled.

“I like you more and more, kid,” the woman said, before hearing footsteps behind her, and Martina appeared a moment later.

“Feeling better, sweetheart?” she asked and the girl nodded.

“Roby...” Martina said when she saw him.

“Hey...” the man smiled, walking toward her. “...I’m sorry,” he added quietly.

She didn’t answer immediately, it took her a moment.

“I should’ve asked for help sooner,” she admitted, crossing her arms.

“You did,” Fernando interrupted, looking at her. “Do you want to stay here? Or maybe you’d rather...”

“...you can come stay with me too if you want, sweetheart,” Daniela cut in.

“I...” Martina said, looking around a little lost, thinking that she absolutely didn’t want to be a burden on them. “...I could also get a room...”

“No,” Fernando stopped her immediately. “No... if you don’t feel comfortable staying here I understand, but...”

“...I’d like to stay here,” she interrupted, looking at him.

“Then it’s decided,” Roberto stepped in. “And we should go, Dany, what do you think? Maybe we’ll come by again tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, it’s late,” the woman agreed, hugging Martina. “Call me for anything,” she said quietly. “And my God, sweetheart, that boy really cares about you,” she added, making sure only she could hear it and managing to pull a small smile from her.

Daniela and Roberto left the apartment and silence returned.

“Are you tired?” Fernando asked, walking back into the kitchen. He felt a little like he was walking on eggshells, not really knowing how he was supposed to behave around her.

“No... not really,” she answered.

“If you want we could watch a movie or maybe...”

“Thank you,” she interrupted suddenly, remaining still and looking at him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied.

“Yes, I do... You... You made me understand a lot of things, Fernando... You were the first person who actually stopped and listened to me,” Martina continued. “I had stopped believing and even hoping that things could get better, it didn’t seem possible to do all of this on my own...”

“You’re not alone,” he said.

“Not anymore,” she admitted. “But there’s one thing I want to make clear, you’re not obligated to take care of me, to stay behind me, to...”

“...no, I’m not,” he interrupted. “I know, it’s just that I want to.”

“And anyway you’re not obligated to stay here either, your life is yours and you don’t owe me anything, okay? That has to be clear, you don’t owe me anything. I didn’t help you for a reason, I helped you because... because it was the right thing to do, and because I care about you, but in no way should this become for you... a burden.”

“And what if I wanted to stay here?” she asked.

“Then mi casa es tu casa, doc,” he smiled. “...and his too...” he joked, pointing at the cat and Martina laughed, with tears in her eyes but she laughed.

Then silence fell and after a few moments she moved, walking toward him again, wrapping her arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder, with the greatest act of trust she could give him.

Fernando hugged her.

“We’ll get through this, okay? One step at a time,” he said. “You don’t have to be afraid of him anymore.”

“He lives right across the hall...” Martina sighed.

“Not anymore, I told him to leave by tomorrow morning,” Fernando answered and the girl lifted her face in surprise.

“What?” she asked.

“I told him to leave and judging from the noises I heard in the hallway and in the parking lot, he’s doing it,” he replied confidently, holding her a little tighter. “He will never be a problem for you again,” he said, looking at her.

And Martina believed him.

Immediately, instantly, the very moment Fernando said those words.

“Now we’re throwing ourselves onto the couch and you’re going to try to... rest... or relax... or whatever you want to do. You can do it alone, you can do it with me, you can do whatever you want, without asking anyone for permission,” the driver told her.

She stayed still, enjoying those words, that hug, that unexpected feeling of safety.

“Twilight?” she asked after a moment and Fernando burst out laughing, completely unable to hold it back.

“Doc, you’re awful,” he said, resting his cheek against the top of her head. “Like I could ever say no to you...” he continued. “But don’t get used to it,” he finished, amused, without moving.

“Fer...” she said after a moment.

“...Mhm?”

“...I don’t regret what happened after the beach...” she continued quietly.

Fernando sighed.

“Neither do I... Or maybe I do... But not because of that kiss, because...” he pulled back slightly to look at her. “Look what it led to...” he added. “...if I hadn’t done it, if I hadn’t texted you.”

“If it hadn’t happened maybe I’d still be at home with him,” Martina interrupted him.

“I wanted to leave him that night,” she said. “Before he found the message, before...” she let the sentence fall away. “But then I couldn’t do it, I was too scared.”

Fernando stayed silent.

He didn’t know what to say.

“And now... I... I need to...” Martina continued, her voice confused. “...I...”

“...Marty listen, you don’t owe me explanations...”

“...I can still feel him on me and it makes me sick,” she interrupted, trying to keep her voice steady.

Fernando felt the anger rise inside him, the kind of anger that blinds you. God, how much he wanted to go back to him and keep punching him again, and again... And instead he took a breath, because in that moment no act of violence was the right answer, not with her.

“Am I standing too close?” he asked then, keeping his tone calm and controlled. “Does it bother you?” he added and she shook her head.

“Marty listen, what happened that night doesn’t force you to stay here, or force you to want me around...”

“I don’t feel forced, Fer, I just feel happy and safe in a way I haven’t felt in I don’t even know how long,” she answered with a calmness the driver hadn’t expected. “I just need to understand how you stay close to someone while still remaining myself.”

“You always do that with me,” he smiled, stroking her arm. “And we have time, to understand everything we need to understand, okay?” he added and she nodded.

“Come on, let’s go watch that damn movie...” he joked then, making her laugh.

Fernando sat down on the couch, and she stretched out without saying anything, resting her head on his legs, closing her eyes for a moment and breathing deeply for the first time in forever: she didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

The movie started and Fernando immediately found something stupid to say, something Martina actually thought too while she enjoyed that atmosphere that felt so unreal to her.

Vampires, damp forests and ridiculous dialogue moved across the television screen, but Martina followed it as if it were the most beautiful movie she had ever seen, even though objectively it was awful, but she kept staying there, still, with her head resting on Fernando’s legs and her breathing finally slow and steady, while every now and then he lowered his gaze toward her almost to check if she was really still there.

Every now and then he absentmindedly stroked her hair with an automatic gesture, calm and without any hidden intention.

And Martina realized that it was the first time in years that someone had touched her without expecting anything in return.

She could still feel her body heavy, the bruises throbbing beneath the soft sweatshirt she was wearing, but slowly the pain was stopping being the only thing she could feel.

“Are you sleeping?” Fernando asked quietly after a long while.

She barely shook her head without hiding a small smile.

“So you’re watching the movie then?” he joked.

“Mhm.”

“And tell me, what’s happening?” he pressed, only to tease her a little.

Martina stayed silent for a few seconds.

“Bella is making terrible decisions as always,” she murmured and Fernando laughed softly.

Martina felt her chest tighten for a completely different reason than fear.

Because he kept treating her like Martina.

Not like a problem.

Not like someone to pity.

Not like something broken.

Just Martina.

“Fer...” she said after a while, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

“Mhm?”

“Should I call my dad?” she asked, maybe because she had been thinking about it, maybe because Bella’s father was talking too much on screen.

The question came so suddenly that his fingers stiffened slightly in her hair and Fernando took a few seconds before answering.

“I tried talking to him some time ago,” he said honestly in the end and she lifted herself slightly, surprised.

“But he didn’t want to listen, he didn’t want to understand... He only wanted to see what was convenient for him to see.”

Martina lowered her eyes.

“I tried talking to him too a few months ago,” she said then.

Fernando felt something twist inside him.

“What?” he asked, incredulous.

“But... he told me I was exaggerating, that it was normal for couples to fight,” she continued without finding the courage to look at him. “I had worked up the courage after a really terrible night... It had started as a quiet evening and then... Then I wasn’t sexy enough, involved enough...” she let the sentence fall away.

“Did he force you to have sex with him?” Fernando asked, finding courage from somewhere he didn’t even know.

“I said yes myself because otherwise it was worse,” she answered, unable to hold his gaze.

“It wasn’t always like this, last year he got a promotion and then... then I don’t know, everything changed. Maybe he had always been an asshole but... he had never laid a hand on me...”

Fernando didn’t speak.

He didn’t want to interrupt her.

He didn’t want to force words into those silences.

“He made me feel special,” she continued. “He used to say I was different from other people, that I was intelligent, that he could immediately tell when I’d had a bad day...” she laughed softly, but it was a sad laugh. “I think that’s how all these stories start, right? Nobody treats you badly on the first day.”

Fernando slowly lowered his eyes toward her.

“No matter how it started, or what it became... it still isn’t your fault, Marty...”

She closed her eyes for a moment.

“I know... It’s just that at some point you stop understanding where you end and where fear begins.”

Fernando stayed still for a few moments and then lowered one hand slightly until his fingers brushed against her face.

“You need to report him, Marty...” he said a little later.

“I know but please, I don’t want to think about it tonight,” she answered, lifting her gaze toward him. “Not tonight, Fer...”

“Not tonight,” he agreed while Martina stretched out against him again with her head resting on him, pretending perhaps to watch that stupid movie.

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But every time your love is near And every time I'm filled with fear 'Cause every time I see your face My heart does begin to race every time One half wants me to go One half wants me to stay I just get so all confused Janet Jackson - Everytime

It was an ordinary Wednesday, one of those days when there aren’t many people around, the sun is shining and the air somehow feels light, unbelievably light. Fernando had picked a very particular car, a vintage convertible Ferrari, the kind of thing only someone like him could drive. They had left early, actually before nine, and they still had a good couple of hours on the road before reaching Forte dei Marmi.

It was a warm, breezy May day, one of those days when not all the beach clubs were even open yet, but the night before, at an hour that was definitely too late, Fernando had picked up his phone and bothered half his staff to find the perfect place and, practically speaking, to have a beach club opened just for them.

It was something Martina would never know, but in twelve hours he had organized the perfect getaway, pulling the right strings and contacting the right people: having Flavio Briatore on his side had helped.

Martina was happy, wearing a white linen shirt and a pair of shorts, carrying a large straw bag with everything she needed inside, looking at the scenery as though she were seeing it for the first time. Fernando hadn’t told her exactly where he was taking her, but it definitely wasn’t Rimini or the Adriatic coast, it was something he had come up with entirely on his own just to surprise her.

There was a silence between them that made her feel good, he had arrived perfectly on time, after texting her to ask if he could pick her up at eight instead of nine, he’d wished her happy birthday with a hug that had made her smile immediately, even though the truth was that she had started smiling already at five that morning, when she’d heard the front door close behind Leonardo and thought about the day waiting for her: with him.

They arrived around ten-thirty in the parking lot of one of those places where the kind of people who drive Ferraris park their cars, and Martina felt almost intimidated, but being beside him didn’t make her feel out of place.

“Fer… I was imagining something a little more simple,” she said quietly while following one of the waiters toward the private gazebo reserved for them, where a dream breakfast was already waiting, along with perfectly white towels and a breeze coming in from the sea that felt like it had been arranged specifically for them.

Fernando turned to look at her; Martina had stopped walking, wearing the most incredible smile while staring out toward the sea, which that morning was such an intense shade of blue it almost looked painted.

“Thank you,” she said without taking her eyes off the horizon.

“You’re welcome, birthday girl,” he replied, amused, before pulling something out of his backpack. “You still have your birthday gift coming, you know?”

“This is my birthday gift,” she said, turning to look at him.

“No, this is,” he answered, handing her a white envelope she took curiously.

Martina opened it: inside was a yearly subscription for the movie theater near their apartment, one movie a week for two people, along with a handwritten note.

“For whenever you need to disconnect, and if you ever need company, you know where to find me. Happy birthday doc. Fernando.”

“Thank you, Fer, it’s perfect…” she smiled, looking at him.

“I know it’s not very original but…”

“...it’s a gift from someone who actually knows me,” she interrupted softly as she sat down on the sunbed and slipped the envelope into her bag.

Fernando stretched out too, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes, an unplanned move that saved him a second later: Martina stood up, slipping off her shorts and opening her shirt, revealing a purple bikini and a body Fernando hadn’t entirely expected.

She was slim, not especially muscular or tall, actually quite petite, but proportional and toned. Fernando caught himself staring before she noticed, partly because he thought she was beautiful and partly because he wanted to make sure there were no marks left on her body by the asshole she lived with.

And there weren’t.

The girl stretched slightly as she laid back down. “This feels like a dream,” she laughed.

“It’s just a day at the beach,” he laughed back.

“With you,” Martina commented without thinking, only realizing too late what she had just said.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” he answered casually, not wanting to make a big deal out of it or make her uncomfortable, but the truth was that it was the same for him too, that it felt good being there: with her.

They stayed there talking for hours, enjoying the sun until around lunchtime Fernando started trying to convince her to get into the water.

The air itself wasn’t especially warm, but under the sun it felt perfect. Martina kept saying no, though she eventually agreed to take off her shirt and walk down toward the water; so they walked side by side along the sand, still talking, until the sea reached their feet.

“It’s freezing,” she laughed.

“It’s not,” the driver argued teasingly before stepping behind her, sliding one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back as he lifted her into his arms. “I brought you to the beach and now you’re getting in the water with me,” he said while looking at her.

“Fer… no!” she laughed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders while he kept walking until the water reached his waist before dropping her into it and diving in after her.

“It’s freezing!” Martina laughed as she resurfaced and immediately started swimming to warm herself up while he followed her.

“A little movement and you’ll warm up, doc,” he laughed as he swam closer, watching her laugh.

She didn’t know how long it had been since she had felt like this, and she didn’t know how long she had wanted to feel exactly like this again.

Fernando made her laugh while they swam in the icy water and all she could think was that this day was a huge risk, one absolutely worth taking, because it was with him.

And more and more often lately she had found herself thinking about how different it felt being beside him, and how trapped she felt instead whenever she was at home next to Leonardo.

She had spent more and more beautiful moments with Fernando, moments that were starting to make her think that maybe all the things she had accepted in her life for months and months… maybe she shouldn’t accept them anymore.

She had started feeling a little less alone ever since he came into her life and maybe, stupidly, she believed that if she decided to change things, he would be there.

But another part of her tried to stay rational, tried to remind her that this was a world champion, Fernando Alonso, someone who would stay in Italy for a year, maybe two, before leaving again for somewhere else. Actually Fernando spent most of his time in Monte Carlo where he lived, Maranello was simply an obligation whenever he had to work with Ferrari: sooner or later he would disappear and she would be alone again.

But then was staying with Leonardo really better? With someone who… someone she hadn’t been happy with for far, far too long?

Those hours spent with Fernando were reopening a world she thought she had forgotten existed, conversations, laughter, that small tension that makes you feel alive, and then he was… kind.

Funny. Sweet. Always polite.

And he made her feel right, in a way she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Fernando hadn’t even thought about it, he had simply picked her up and walked into the water, only afterward realizing that maybe Martina might not like his hands on her without him asking first, but she had laughed.

And the truth was that feeling his hands on her had sent shivers down her spine, the good kind, not the ones you get when you’re afraid of what’s about to happen.

They stayed in the water for a few more minutes before running back across the beach toward the showers; Fernando stepped under one and Martina found it completely impossible not to stare at him.

He was breathtakingly beautiful, water running down his muscles and his wet hair stuck to his face. It looked like one of those scenes from a romantic comedy, not a random Wednesday morning on an Italian beach, and yet.

She stepped under the water too, forcing herself to stop looking at him, but it wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t easy for him either, because after turning off the shower he glanced over at her while she rinsed out her hair, long strands falling down her back all the way to her ass, and he had to force himself to look away.

They stayed stretched out in the sun drying off before moving up to the restaurant terrace for a very late lunch beneath the umbrellas, and there were only them and one other table with five people there: Martina had truly started suspecting that Fernando had opened the entire place just for them… but she had decided to enjoy every second of that day without asking questions.

And she did, even if every time he stood too close to her she had to focus to keep talking, even if every time he looked at her for too long she lowered her gaze, even if when he took her hand on the rocks she never wanted him to let go again.

They got back into the car a little after eight, carrying sandwiches for the drive home and skin warmed golden by the sun.

Before starting the engine Fernando looked at her for a moment and simply thought that the day together had been worth every effort, for every time she had laughed, for every moment he’d managed to stay close to her, for everything he had discovered about her.

He hoped he had made her happy and it really seemed like he had.

By the time they parked beneath the apartment building it was almost eleven.

“It’s late. Are you traveling again tomorrow?” she asked, and Fernando nodded.

“Yeah, but my flight’s at eleven, no horrible wake-up call,” he answered while they both stepped out of the car. “We have to feed Spritz, he’s going to be deeply offended he got left alone all day,” he added jokingly. “Want to come say hi?”

“Of course,” Martina answered immediately because, deep down, she absolutely didn’t want the day to end.

The moment they stepped into Fernando’s apartment the kitten ran over to them meowing loudly.

“Hi sweetheart,” she said, picking him up in her arms. “Are you hungry?” she asked, scratching his head while, just like he always did with her, the kitten immediately started purring.

“You’re shameless,” Fernando muttered with an amused shake of his head before walking ahead into the kitchen to fill the cat’s bowl, which the little animal attacked the second Martina set him down.

They watched him quietly for a moment before she finally found the courage to speak.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

She was leaning against the kitchen counter, hands resting on the marble surface, staring at the kitten eating, too nervous to look Fernando in the eyes.

“You don’t have to thank me,” the driver replied, stepping beside her, arms crossed while turning his head to look at her. “Honestly, I did it for myself too. I can’t even remember the last time I relaxed this much,” he admitted.

Martina let out a quiet laugh. “I think if you really wanted to, Fernando, you’d have much better things to do than waste time with someone like me…” she said with her gaze lowered. “...but thank you for not making me feel…”

“And I think you should start realizing how good I feel when I’m with you,” he interrupted firmly, catching her off guard. “I don’t know what you think ‘someone like you’ deserves, honestly I don’t even know what you mean by someone like you, because all I see is the girl I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for weeks,” he added before letting silence settle between them.

Martina slowly turned her head and met his eyes without saying a word.

“And honestly, I don’t even know what kind of life you think I have,” he continued. “I train, I travel too much and I drive… maybe a few parties whenever I’m in Monte Carlo but…” the driver paused, shaking his head slightly. “...but these past few months I’ve barely gone back to Monte Carlo at all, because I feel better here,” he added, stepping away from the counter and moving in front of her, close, but not invasive, not threatening.

“I feel better here because I always want to see you,” he said without hesitation. “And honestly I’ve wanted to kiss you all day,” he added quietly without moving.

And it was true, he wanted it desperately, but not without her permission, not without understanding if she wanted it too, if she would feel cornered, if his closeness would make her uncomfortable.

Martina stayed still for a few moments looking at him before finally lifting her hand and placing it against his chest as she gently pushed herself away from the counter behind her.

“Me too,” she whispered so softly she wasn’t even sure she had actually said it out loud.

Fernando smiled before lowering his head and pressing his lips against hers, sliding a hand into her hair and pulling her slightly closer.

They stayed like that for a moment before the kiss deepened into something more, before she pressed herself more firmly against him and wrapped both hands around the back of his neck.

It was an endless kiss and Martina could feel her entire body tingling, she felt breathless and yet also like she was truly breathing for the first time in a very long time.

They pulled apart after what felt like forever and Fernando rested his forehead against hers, just watching her.

Martina’s breathing was uneven and her lips were flushed red.

“I…” she whispered, stepping slightly away. “...I should go…” she added without really knowing what to do.

“Okay…” he answered, taking a small step back to give her space, trying to understand whether what had just happened had made her uncomfortable.

Martina stared at him and only then fully realized what she had done.

“Thank you,” she said again, stepping fully away from the counter before picking her bag up off the floor.

“Marty, listen…” he started without really knowing what to say. “...it was a beautiful day,” he finished softly.

“Yeah,” the girl smiled once she reached the door. “But I have to… I have to go. Goodnight Fer,” she added as she opened it.

“Night,” he answered before hearing the door close behind her.

Maybe he had made a huge, huge mistake.

Martina walked into her apartment with shaking hands, closed the door behind her and leaned against it, shutting her eyes and covering her mouth with one hand before slowly sliding down to the floor.

What had she done?

They had kissed. She had kissed someone else.

Panic hit her all at once.

If Leonardo ever found out about that day, if he ever found out about that kiss, it would be over.

She forced herself to breathe normally. He would never find out.

But that wasn’t even the point.

The point was… could she really ignore what had happened? Or rather, did she even want to ignore it?

Her life with Leonardo was hell, a hell made of screaming, slaps, moments of fear she only wanted to escape from, humiliations and violence that hurt more and more every time.

But now she had started seeing something different.

She had started seeing that there was another way for someone to love her, one made of respect, smiles, words that didn’t cut like knives, a way that made her heart race and sent goosebumps across her skin.

And it was the way Fernando treated her every single time they were together.

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling while thinking back to that day and then to the way he had stepped closer and kissed her.

It had been sweet, but not only sweet. It had been beautiful.

It had been something she wanted again and again and again…

She didn’t want to keep being afraid. She didn’t want to keep living as the victim of a man who hurt her all the time.

She wanted to be happy.

Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out, smiling again the second she saw the name on the screen.

Fernando: I know I should apologize, tell you I shouldn’t have done that… Fernando: But the truth is I don’t want to apologize, because it’s exactly what I want to do every single time I see you

She read it once, then twice, then over and over again…

Usually she deleted every message he sent her so she wouldn’t get caught, but she couldn’t delete that one, not the sentence where he told her that every time he saw her, he wanted her.

Previous chapter - Next Chapter

Moodboard for the chapter

Martina woke up slowly, the house was quiet, Leonardo had already been up since dawn and she, on the other hand, had the day off and wouldn’t have to go back to work until the next day.

It was her father’s birthday, and that evening there was going to be a small party at his place.

It was supposed to be small, but she already knew that Leonardo and her father had invited quite a few “important” people, the kind who obviously supported Ferrari and that Leo had been trying to get close to for a while.

Her father would have done anything to help her boyfriend.

After a shower she made herself breakfast and then booked a hair appointment, a whole day just for herself, and that alone made her feel calmer.

It didn’t happen often that she had time off, time on her own, and whenever she did she tried to enjoy it as much as possible.

The day went by almost too quickly, and she arrived at her father’s house a little before the other guests, Leonardo was going to meet her there together with the head of his department and a few colleagues.

Luisa, her father’s partner, was in the kitchen.

“Martina, sweetheart,” she said with a smile, pulling her into a hug.

“Hi,” Martina replied, smiling back.

“You look stunning in red,” Luisa added, taking a moment to look at her properly.

“Thank you, I bought it today… I saw it in a shop window and fell in love with it,” Martina said. “Do you need help?”

“Thank you, sweetheart, we hired a chef and a waiter but I wanted to make sure everything was perfect, so yes, please,” Luisa replied, starting to show her how to arrange a few dishes.

Right at eight the guests started to arrive, her father was in high spirits, surrounded by people to talk to; after greeting a few of them, Martina noticed two familiar faces.

“Hi,” she said, walking over to Fernando and Andrea, who were having a drink.

“Hey, neighbour,” he greeted her.

“Hey Marty,” Andrea smiled, pulling her into a quick hug.

“I’m glad to see you, I was sure he’d invited both of you,” Martina said.

“We couldn’t miss it,” Andrea laughed, before getting distracted by someone behind him.

“Ferrari red?” Fernando asked, nodding toward her dress, and Martina nodded. “You look beautiful,” he added, simply.

“Thank you,” she replied, before Leonardo stepped in beside her.

“Alonso!” he said with a smile, shaking his hand, then turned to Martina. “Why didn’t you wear the dress I picked for you?” he asked, without even greeting her.

“I saw this one in a shop window and I…”

“I don’t like you in red,” he cut in. “Come on, your dad’s looking for you,” he added.

Fernando paused for a second, thrown off by the tone, and by the way Martina just nodded, gave him a quick goodbye and followed Leonardo across the room.

Whenever Leonardo was next to her, her smile disappeared, her back stiffened and she seemed to shrink into a quieter, smaller version of herself; Fernando had never seen anything quite like it, someone so openly controlling, so casually rude.

He didn’t like him, not instinctively and not from the few times they had spoken.

He couldn’t quite explain why he kept asking himself so many questions about that couple, about that situation, but maybe it was simply how he had been raised, the kind of respect that had been taught to him.

Never, never would he have spoken to someone like that, even less to a woman, and even less to his woman.

And then there was that moment from a few weeks earlier, the way Leonardo had grabbed her in the parking lot, that tone: completely unacceptable.

And seeing her act like nothing had happened left him more unsettled than he cared to admit.

The party went on, a little boring, made up of small talk and handshakes, and Fernando didn’t particularly enjoy that kind of atmosphere, but Giorgio had been kind to him from the start and he couldn’t just not show up.

As he moved through the room he realized he had ended up near the kitchen, through the door he could see Martina talking to someone, Giorgio’s partner who went back to the guests a moment later, they were arranging things on trays.

Fernando was about to walk over when he heard Leonardo’s voice again.

“Hurry up, my boss has been waiting for that stuff for half an hour,” he said clearly, addressing her.

“I’m almost done, just a second,” she replied, placing the last canapés.

“Jesus, you can’t even manage being a waitress?” he said, grabbing the tray and disappearing into the other room.

Martina didn’t react, she just tucked her hair behind her ear, as if she hadn’t heard, or as if she was simply used to it.

She wiped her hands on the towel and slipped outside through the glass door leading to the garden.

Fernando hesitated for a second, then picked up two glasses of champagne and followed her.

Outside there was a large, well-kept garden, full of lights, it was cold, but not too much.

She was sitting on one of the chairs and turned when she heard his steps.

“Want one?” Fernando asked, holding out a glass.

“Thank you,” she said, a little surprised, taking it with a small smile. “I just needed some quiet,” she added, almost like she had to justify being there.

“Same, I’ve shaken too many hands,” Fernando admitted, sitting down beside her.

“I know you have the car presentation the day after tomorrow,” Martina said, trying to break the ice.

“Yeah, first official event, I’m a bit nervous… I’m starting to realize just how big Ferrari is here in Italy,” he admitted.

“A religion,” Martina joked. “My dad was really excited about your arrival, you’ve been one of his favorite drivers for years.”

Fernando smiled. “He’s been really kind to me, I’m settling in well,” he said.

“You’re even learning how to use the stove…” she teased, making him laugh.

“I’m making great progress,” he laughed. “I’m also learning the language, come on, I’m not doing that badly…”

“Not at all!” she said immediately.

“I’ve been watching a lot of movies in Italian… yesterday I watched Inglourious Basterds,” he continued, taking a sip. “I’ve already seen it in Spanish and in English… I tried it in Italian too.”

“I love that movie,” she said. “I love going to the cinema, I don’t get to go very often but…”

“…because of work?” he asked.

Martina nodded. “Leo doesn’t really like it…” she admitted “…so we never go.”

“Isn’t there a huge cinema near our building?” he asked, and she nodded. “Maybe one day you can take me.”

If that idiot didn’t like going, why shouldn’t she?

It was more of a provocation than an actual invitation.

Martina smiled.

There it was again, that smile that wasn’t really a smile. “Sure,” she said, more out of politeness than anything else.

“I also watched a movie with aliens,” he went on, easing the tension again. “District 9…”

“Oh my God, I love that one, I’m obsessed with sci-fi,” she said, lighting up. “Anything with monsters and spaceships and stuff like that,” she added with a small laugh. “Alien is my favorite.”

“Aliens is better,” he said with a grin.

“Depends on the day,” Martina laughed, and then she kept talking, about movies she had seen and books she had read, letting herself drift into it without really thinking about it.

Fernando just watched her, smiling, because he had never seen her like that, so open, so talkative, but for some reason in that moment she had decided to be, and she had let herself go, telling him about the things she liked.

He laughed at something they both knew, complaining about how bad the Spanish dubbing was, and she immediately shot back that they should watch it in English because it was worth it.

“Marty.”

The voice came from behind them, sharp, cutting through the moment.

They both turned.

Leonardo was standing in the kitchen doorway, watching them.

“I’ve been looking for you for half an hour,” he said, his eyes fixed on her.

“Sorry…” she said, getting to her feet.

“We were just talking about movies, my fault,” Fernando added, standing up as well.

“Movies?” Leonardo let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “And what do you know about movies, you never go to the cinema…” he said, looking straight at her.

She opened her mouth, like she was about to answer, but then she didn’t, just giving a small shrug.

And just like that, she was gone again.

No smile, no light, nothing left of the girl who had been sitting there just a second before.

Fernando felt it immediately, that shift, abrupt and wrong.

“Come on, Roberto’s here, and for some reason my boss wants to meet you too,” Leonardo went on, already turning away and disappearing back inside.

“I should go…” Martina said after a moment, lifting her gaze just enough to look at Fernando.

“You should go to the cinema more,” he said suddenly, catching her off guard. “If you like it, you should go more often.”

“I’ll try,” she said with a small smile. “Thanks for the chat…”

Then she turned and walked back inside.

Fernando stayed there for a second longer, then followed her, a little annoyed without really wanting to admit it, making his way back toward Andrea.

“Where did you disappear to?” Andrea asked.

“Out in the garden, Giorgio’s daughter is my neighbor,” Fernando replied, glancing across the room.

She was talking to a man much older than her, smiling, animated, completely at ease, her hands moving as she spoke, fully engaged in the conversation.

The man laughed.

And she looked… fine.

“Hey, that’s Roby!” Andrea said, pointing toward them. “He’s my brother-in-law, head of the ER where Martina works. Come on, I’ll introduce you, he’s a fan… but not one of the crazy ones,” he added with a grin.

“Roby!” he called out.

“Ohi Andre, hey!” the man smiled, tall, messy hair, rough beard, sharp, lively eyes, somewhere in his fifties. “Wait… are you seriously about to introduce me to him?” he laughed, looking at Fernando.

“If you care that much,” Andrea teased. “Fernando Alonso.”

“Well, this just became the best night of my life… don’t tell your sister though,” Roberto joked, shaking Fernando’s hand. “I’m a huge fan, I watched so many of your races back when you were at Renault.”

“Nice to meet you,” Fernando said with a smile. “Thanks for the support. You’re a doctor, right?”

“Head of the ER where this one works,” Roberto said, nodding toward Martina.

“Is she a good doctor? Because she lives across from me, I need to know if I can call her…” Fernando joked, making them all laugh.

“The best you could ask for, Alonso,” Roberto said proudly.

“She’s an ER doctor, Barnelli, not a Nobel Prize, you ER people really think too highly of yourselves,” Leonardo cut in, appearing out of nowhere.

“Fuck off, Cravedi,” Roberto shot back without hesitation. “At least we don’t spend our lives staring at a damn microscope talking to cells,” he added, making everyone laugh.

Fernando laughed too, and part of him appreciated seeing someone push back like that.

But even in that moment, he couldn’t ignore the look Leonardo gave Martina, who had been laughing along with everyone else, and the way that simple laugh disappeared from her face almost instantly.

—

“It was a nice evening,” Martina said as she stepped inside the apartment, while Leonardo closed the door behind them, muttering something under his breath.

“I guess you enjoyed making fun of me, huh?” he said, taking off his jacket.

“Roberto was just joking, Leo…” she replied, turning toward him.

“That idiot doesn’t get to do that,” he snapped, stepping closer and grabbing her face with one hand, pulling her toward him. “And you’d better stop laughing at his jokes,” he added, pushing her away before walking into the bedroom.

“Sorry…” she whispered, lowering her gaze.

He was already gone.

Martina felt her eyes sting, but she took a slow breath, hanging her jacket in the wardrobe, she had clearly been wrong to laugh at that, she shouldn’t have, Leonardo was very sensitive about those things and she needed to respect that.

She slipped off her shoes and went into the kitchen to get something to drink, the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom, she touched her cheek where he had grabbed her, hoping it wouldn’t bruise.

Her phone buzzed in her hand.

Fernando: Have you seen Avatar yet?

Martina smiled, caught off guard.

Martina: Not yet Fernando: Then we need to find a night to go see it Martina: I’d like that Fernando: It’s three hours long… Martina: I know, but anything James Cameron makes is worth watching Fernando: More or less… Martina: Except Titanic? Fernando: Except Titanic! Fernando: That’s a promise, you’re taking me to the movies Fernando: I’m a foreigner in your city Martina: A moral duty toward Ferrari Fernando: Exactly Fernando: And a gift for me Fernando: Goodnight Martina: Night!

She set the phone down on the table with a small smile, she couldn’t quite believe that someone like Fernando Alonso, the world champion everyone in Italy idolized, was texting her.

He felt… normal.

Kind.

Not full of himself.

She would have really liked to go to the movies with him, to show him a bit of the city.

She heard a noise from the bathroom and immediately deleted the messages from the chat.

She had already done enough for one night.

It was better not to push it any further.

Previous chapter - Next chapter

The first race of the season had arrived, Bahrain, and Fernando had won.

First Grand Prix with Ferrari, and straight away a victory, incredible, overwhelming, full of emotion.

The team was over the moon, engineers, mechanics, the whole of Italy was buzzing, completely in love with that Spaniard who, dressed in red, was making them dream.

Fernando had celebrated, a lot, maybe too much.

Enough to sleep through the entire flight back.

He had stayed four days in Monte Carlo and then returned to Maranello to work, ahead of the second race, with the team, analysing every detail of that spectacular victory.

He had gotten back the night before, late but not too late, and had woken up early to go for a run.

PR had told him they didn’t know how much longer he would be able to live a “normal” life, that sooner or later fans would become more invasive, but for now everything still seemed calm, and Fernando cared a lot about keeping his life as normal and simple as possible.

Simple, relatively speaking.

As simple as the life of a millionaire driver can be.

That morning he had decided to go running to train, it was cold, but a nice kind of cold, with a clear sky and sunlight brightening everything.

By now he knew the area well enough, Andrea and Martina had pointed out a few quiet country roads where he could train in peace.

He was in the building’s parking lot, coming back from his run, when he saw Leonardo heading towards his car.

“Alonso!” he greeted him with a smile “What a race, congratulations,” the doctor commented as he approached.

“Thanks,” Fernando replied, taking off his earbuds “It was satisfying.”

“I can imagine! We heard from Giorgio, he was buzzing, like the whole team I guess,” Leonardo continued, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

“Of course,” Fernando answered politely, though he still didn’t like the guy one bit “Heading to the hospital?” he asked.

“Yeah… I’ve got a brutal day ahead…” he replied, with that usual saviour-of-the-world attitude.

“Martina?” Fernando asked without even thinking.

“Upstairs, she’s taking it easy,” the doctor laughed “I’ve got to run, congrats again champ… since you’re here you should come out one night with my group of friends, they’re insanely jealous since I told them I live right across from you,” he added with a laugh, waving as he got into his car.

Fernando went inside and took the stairs quickly, he was cold and wanted a shower, and after washing up and getting dressed he picked up his phone.

Fernando: Hey doc, you home?

He typed and sent it without thinking.

Martina: Hey champ, yeah, I’m on night shift today Fernando: Will you make me a coffee? Martina: Just knock…!!

Fernando smiled, slipped his shoes back on and stepped out, and he hadn’t even had time to knock before she opened the door.

She was smiling.

“What an honour, the Bahrain champion,” she teased, amused, letting him in, and Fernando laughed.

“It was a great race,” he admitted, following her into the kitchen.

She seemed calm.

She seemed happy to see him.

“It really was, Maranello went crazy, just so you know,” she said, turning on the coffee machine and grabbing two cups “Want some?” she asked, pointing at a cake on the table.

Fernando nodded. “You made it?” he asked, curious.

“I like cooking, it relaxes me,” she replied, cutting a slice and serving him coffee before sitting across from him.

“With the job you have, you need that,” he commented before taking a bite “Fuck, Marty, this is amazing,” he laughed.

And Martina laughed too.

Fernando seemed like a normal person, not the driver in red splashed across every newspaper, not the one crowds filled the streets for.

Not the most famous and desired driver in the world.

Just a guy sitting in her kitchen.

And still, to Martina, it felt a little strange that he was there.

Because someone like him could be anywhere, and instead he was there with a slice of her cake in his hand.

And somehow he felt less out of place than he probably should have.

“Did you get some rest?” she asked.

“Yeah, I stayed in Monte Carlo, saw some friends,” he admitted, finishing the cake.

“Just friends?” she smiled “The most desired driver in the world is really single?” she teased.

She didn’t know where that confidence came from when she talked to him.

But she could afford it.

With him, she could.

Fernando laughed. “I went out to dinner with a girl, but it wasn’t anything special,” he admitted, shrugging.

“Well, she’s a lucky girl,” Martina smiled.

“I’m not exactly easy to keep up with,” he commented.

“I can imagine, sorry, I didn’t mean that…” she said quickly, going on the defensive.

“Hey… relax, Marty,” he cut in gently “I don’t even know what I’m looking for in a woman, you know? I’m not even sure I’m looking for someone right now,” he admitted, eyes fixed on his cup.

“You’ll find her… you’ve got the whole world to look in,” she smiled, and he returned it.

It was true, he had the whole world.

And yet he was standing on his own landing.

“And you? What did you do these past few days? Cinema?” he asked, looking at her, and Martina smiled.

“I wish…” she replied “I had some heavy shifts, and Leo organised two dinners with his friends… so…” she trailed off.

It was impossible not to notice the way she even said his name.

Dinner with your boyfriend should be fun, and yet for some reason, for her, it wasn’t.

It felt like a duty.

Always.

“So what about today, are you free?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled right away “No plans, I just wanted to rest and… maybe go for a walk,” she said, reaching out for a biscuit.

It was just a moment, one Martina probably didn’t even notice, the sleeve lifting slightly, but Fernando clearly saw a dark bruise on her arm, in that exact same spot where weeks earlier he had grabbed her.

It couldn’t be the same one.

Too much time had passed.

That bruise was new.

Martina pulled her sleeve back down and took a bite.

“Can I come with you?” he asked, pretending nothing was wrong, not asking questions, not asking if it had been him again.

Because he didn’t know what to do, how to act…

“Don’t you have champion duties?” she asked, amused.

“After a win like that, I’d like to rest too,” he replied.

“With someone like me?” she asked, surprised.

“With someone like you,” he confirmed. “With you actually, why not?”

“Because…” she started, then shrugged. “…you’re famous, you do know that, right?” she smiled.

“And you make great cakes,” he replied. “And I like talking to you.”

He didn’t really know what he was doing.

He didn’t know why he was there, or why he wanted to be with her.

Martina was sweet.

Interesting.

Funny, when she wanted to be.

And part of him wanted to help her.

Because the more time passed, the clearer it became that something in that relationship was wrong, and that she was the one paying the price, not that idiot he had met in the parking lot.

He had to do something.

He couldn’t become complicit by staying silent.

He couldn’t pretend nothing was happening while that man hurt her.

“I need to run a few errands,” she said, a little awkward.

“Am I in the way if I come?” he asked.

“No!” she said immediately. “No, I didn’t mean that, sorry,” she rushed to explain.

“Then I’ll keep you company,” Fernando said, completely at ease.

“I’d like that,” she replied, putting cups and plates in the sink “You do know people are going to stop you, right?” she laughed, turning back to him.

“Then we’ll sign autographs,” he joked.

Martina went quiet for a moment, because if she went out with him Leo would find out she hadn’t been alone on her morning walk.

He would be annoyed.

Angry.

But the truth was, she wanted company.

His company.

-

It was afternoon when Fernando walked into the Ferrari factory and knocked on Giorgio’s door.

“Hey campeón, what are you doing here?” the man asked, surprised to see the driver on what was supposed to be one of his days off.

“I forgot a couple of things I needed to pick up,” Fernando replied, making up an excuse as he stepped inside “I took it easy this morning, went for a walk with your daughter,” he added, introducing the real reason he was there.

“With Martina?” Giorgio asked, clearly surprised.

“We’ve become friends,” Fernando continued, sitting down in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

Giorgio laughed “I’m glad,” he said “Martina isn’t exactly the kind of person who catches the attention of someone like you… she’s very reserved, very… strange,” the man went on.

Fernando watched him carefully, trying to figure out how to ask more without raising suspicion.

“How long has she been with Leonardo?” he asked, almost casually.

“Oh, years, seven I think, since university,” Giorgio replied.“She’s been lucky, Leonardo is incredible, sometimes I wonder how he even fell for her,” he added with a laugh.

Fernando went still at that.

What the hell could Leonardo possibly have that Martina didn’t.

“Why?” he asked, trying to understand.

“Leo is decisive, driven, he knows what he wants, intelligent, determined… a bit like you,” Giorgio began.

“I’m nothing like him,” Fernando cut in, firm enough to make the man pause.

He stopped for a second, then went on “Has it never seemed to you that he’s a bit too… controlling with her? A bit too… aggressive?” he asked carefully.

“Leo? No,” Giorgio replied immediately “I mean, Marty needs someone like that, someone who tells her what to do.”

Fernando felt like he had just hit a wall.

This was her father, and he was defending, in every possible way, the man Fernando was convinced was hurting his daughter.

“Martina seems like someone who knows exactly what she wants,” Fernando said “It’s just… I’ve heard him raise his voice at her, a lot… she seemed… sad, scared… and he…”

“No, come on, Fernando… Martina probably just made him lose his patience, she can be exhausting with all her insecurities, her overthinking…” Giorgio cut him off “She’s just like her mother, I know what that’s like,” he continued.

Fernando let out a slow breath, shaking his head slightly. “Are you separated?” he asked.

“No, she left fifteen years ago,” he replied “She had… a difficult character, selfish, impossible, she never handled motherhood and she just left… we were very young when Martina was born, too young I think… we weren’t ready, she definitely wasn’t.”

Fernando stayed silent.

He was connecting too many dots, and none of what was emerging sat right with him.

Giorgio wasn’t willing to see that his daughter’s relationship with Leonardo was toxic, wrong.

To him, the problem was Martina.

Insecure.

Exhausting.

Leonardo could lose his temper all he wanted, but nothing gave him the right to hurt her or treat her like that.

“I don’t think she’s happy with him,” Fernando said plainly, looking straight at him.

“Fernando, relax, you’re worrying too much and my daughter is not your problem,” Giorgio replied. “Martina is fine, Leonardo has a strong personality and that’s exactly what she needs, they’re young, in love… don’t think about her, alright? You should be thinking about winning… and besides, you’ll have plenty of girls to think about, right? She’s clearly not enough for someone like you to lose your time…” he laughed, getting up.

“Come on, I’ll get you a coffee, so you can stop overthinking,” he added with a smile.

Fernando stood up.

He had hit a wall.

He had hoped Giorgio could help.

Instead, he had found himself at a dead end.

-

There were moments when Leonardo was still her Leo.

That boy she had met outside the faculty with too many books in his arms, an incredible smile and the hunger to take on the world.

There were moments when they were still them, when he still made her feel loved, in his own way.

Martina was still lying in bed, he was in the shower, they had been together, like it hadn’t happened in a long time, and he had been gentle, like he hadn’t been in a long time.

She sat up, slipped into her underwear and a t-shirt, grabbed her phone and went into the kitchen, she was hungry.

She set it on the table and started looking for something to eat, she could hear Leonardo moving around in the bathroom, getting dressed, and then her phone vibrated with a few messages.

Leo walked into the kitchen shortly after. “Can you make me some tea?” he asked, then his eyes fell on Martina’s phone.

“Why is Alonso texting you?” he asked suddenly, and she turned.

“I don’t know, I haven’t checked,” she replied immediately.

She hoped with everything she had that he hadn’t written anything about the cinema or their walk the day before.

“See if he needs something, he’s important, come on,” he said, handing her the phone.

Fernando was just asking how she was and whether she had seen a certain movie on TV the night before.

“He doesn’t need anything, he’s just asking how I am, talking about a movie,” she said, letting him read the message.

“Why the fuck does he care how you are?” Leonardo said, lifting his gaze.

“I don’t know, baby, we talk sometimes,” she replied quietly.

“You talk to a fucking world champion?” he asked, tilting his head “What could he possibly have to say to someone like you?” he added with a laugh “Keep him close, I’ve got events I can invite him to, be nice,” he went on.

Martina just nodded.

“Don’t act like a slut with him, got it?” he snapped.

“Leo, come on…” she protested weakly.

“I want to see what he writes to you,” he continued, taking the cup she handed him.

“Of course,” she said “I’ve got nothing to hide”

Leonardo stood up and kissed the top of her head “Good girl, it’s not like I have anything to be jealous of, what the fuck would a guy like him see in someone like you…” he muttered, walking into the living room.

He didn’t think Fernando was interested in her.

He talked to her because she was Giorgio’s daughter, and probably to stay on good terms with Leo.

She was nothing to someone like him, she knew that.

But when his name appeared on her screen, she was happy anyway.

Previous chapter - Next chapter

It had been a devastating day, the kind that leaves you hollow inside and with that quiet, unbearable urge to cry all night.

Roberto had told her not to stay alone, not to get lost in the sadness, not to spiral over what had happened, and that was exactly what she had planned to do, go home, maybe eat something quick with Leo in front of the TV, put on a movie, switch off completely.

When she stepped into the building lobby, Fernando was already there in front of the elevator, a Ferrari backpack slung over one shoulder and his cap still pulled low over his face.

“Hey,” she said, and he turned with a smile that faded the moment he really looked at her.

“Hey doc…” he murmured, his expression shifting almost immediately, “Everything okay?” he asked, softer now.

“Shitty shift…” she answered, stepping into the elevator and leaning back against the wall while he pressed the button for the fourth floor, “We lost a five-year-old kid… drowned in his own pool…”

“Fuck…” he breathed out, running a hand over his face, “Marty, that’s…” he exhaled, searching for something to say and not quite finding it, “I’m sorry.”

She gave a small shrug. “He was already critical when he got there,” she said quietly, just as the doors slid open onto their floor.

Leonardo was standing right in front of them, jacket already on, locking the door behind him.

“Hey,” she said, stepping closer.

“Hey…” he replied, already moving past her.

“You going out?” Martina asked, something off in her voice, “I thought…”

“Yeah, dinner with colleagues, I told you,” he cut in, brushing it off, “You said you had a rough shift, right? So you’re not coming, I’d say.”

She went quiet. She had called him when she left the hospital, and somehow she had understood that he wasn’t going either, that he would stay with her.

At least, that’s what she had hoped.

“I thought we’d have dinner together,” she said.

“They called me last minute, come on, I can’t bail,” he shrugged, already halfway turned away, “Take a shower and rest, losing a patient happens. Don’t wait up, okay?” he added, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head before greeting Fernando briefly and heading down the stairs.

Fernando had stayed to the side, almost by his own door, not missing any of it, forcing himself not to step in, not again. When he turned back, Martina was still staring at the spot where Leonardo had disappeared, her expression unreadable.

“Do you want to keep me company?” he asked before he could even think about it, pulling her attention back to him, “I don’t feel like being alone and Ornella has probably cooked for twenty people again, what do you say?” he added, tilting his head slightly.

She hesitated, just for a moment, then nodded. “I’d like that, thanks.”

It wasn’t a night she wanted to spend alone.

She followed him inside, dropping her bag by the door and hanging her jacket without saying anything.

Fernando felt something twist in his chest, confusion, frustration, something sharper than that too.

He couldn’t understand how she kept living like this, with someone like him.

He tried to remember Roberto’s words, tried to think about what kind of mechanism might be at play in her head, but it didn’t matter, he couldn’t accept it, couldn’t accept that she stayed, that she kept choosing this.

“I know he was an asshole,” she said suddenly, catching him off guard as she crouched to pick up the cat.

“Yeah,” he muttered, “Pretty much.”

“I don’t think I feel like making excuses for him tonight,” she went on.

“I don’t think there are any, Marty… you needed him,” Fernando said quietly, and she nodded.

“Do you have a beer?” she asked, looking at him, and he motioned for her to follow him into the kitchen.

He opened two bottles and handed her one. She let Spritz slip out of her arms and leaned back against the counter, letting out a slow breath as she took a sip, eyes closing for a second.

“Hey…” he said, stepping closer, his hand brushing lightly against her arm before he even thought about it.

Martina opened her eyes, tears already there, and Fernando couldn’t tell if they were for that child or for herself.

She set the bottle down and, completely unexpectedly, leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him as she broke.

Fernando froze for a fraction of a second, caught off guard, then wrapped his arms around her, holding her just a little tighter. “Hey Marty…” he murmured, resting his cheek against her hair, but she kept crying, letting everything spill out, the weight of a day that had been too much, with the only person she actually wanted there.

“Sorry…” she said suddenly, pulling back as if she had just realized what she’d done, “I… sorry, Fer, I’m sorry…”

“Hey…” he cut her off, his voice steady but gentle, “You’re allowed to fall apart too,” he said simply, pulling her back against him, and this time she didn’t resist, just rested her head against his shoulder.

Minutes passed like that, quiet, neither of them saying anything.

“Sometimes it feels like you’re the only person I can be myself with,” she said after a while, her voice low, almost hesitant.

Fernando kept his hand moving slowly along her back. “You can be,” he said after a moment, “with me.”

She smiled, faintly, letting herself stay there just a little longer.

“How about we eat in front of the TV?” he asked eventually.

She pulled back and nodded, a small smile lingering. “Okay… Fer, I’m sorry, I…”

“Enough,” he said softly, stopping her, “You don’t have to apologize. For anything…” he added, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “You can cry as much as you need,” he went on, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, “Just don’t expect me to sit through Twilight.”

She laughed, a real laugh this time, light and unexpected, the kind that rises from somewhere deep and refuses to be held back.

“So what are we watching tonight, champ?” she asked, wiping her eyes.

“Shutter Island?” he suggested, and she nodded.

They heated up dinner and settled onto Fernando’s oversized couch, wrapped in a quiet that felt… good, easy in a way neither of them had expected.

They ate, trading small comments about the movie, a few half-jokes, slowly forgetting about the beers on the table as time slipped by.

“How are you?” Fernando asked at some point, turning his head to look at her.

Martina was leaning back, her head sunk into the cushions, and she turned toward him. “Better,” she said, a soft kind of calm settling over her, the kind that suited her more than anything else.

Fernando smiled, and she spoke again, almost unexpectedly.

“I’m really glad I met you,” she said, “It’s been a long time since I had a friend like you.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, considering it. “You know I’m not doing anything special, you know that, right?”

“You’re here,” she said, cutting him off gently, “You’re here, even when everyone else walked away.”

“You’re not the reason they left,” he said, and she went quiet again, turning back toward the TV before letting her head rest against his shoulder.

Fernando stayed there, watching the movie without really seeing it. She was opening up, slowly, trusting him, and maybe, finally starting to realize that she could have more than the life she was stuck in.

The movie was almost over when he felt her head grow heavier against him. He glanced down and saw her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady.

She had fallen asleep.

He watched her for a moment, thinking she looked even more fragile like that, thinking that with him she had felt safe enough to let go completely.

He shifted slightly to get more comfortable, and she moved with him without waking, sliding down until her head rested on his legs, murmuring something soft and incoherent.

Fernando smiled, leaning back, letting his hand move slowly along her arm before settling at her waist, his head resting against the back of the couch as he watched the last few minutes of the film, and when the screen went black, he turned off the TV and closed his eyes for a moment.

-

When Martina woke up, it took her a second to understand where she was. The room was warm, soft, but not hers.

She turned her head slightly and saw Fernando sitting there, eyes closed, head tilted to the side, while she was stretched out with her head on his legs.

They had both fallen asleep.

How long had it been?

She sat up abruptly, and Fernando stirred immediately, opening his eyes.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

“What time is it?” she asked, panic already creeping into her tone as she reached for her phone. 1:30 a.m.

“It’s really late,” she said, getting to her feet too quickly.

“Marty, hey…” he said, standing as well, “Calm down.”

“I have to go, if he comes back and I…” she said, grabbing her hoodie, movements quick, almost frantic.

“Martina,” Fernando said, more firmly now, making her turn toward him, “I’ll walk you back, and if he’s already home you just tell him you fell asleep.”

“No,” she said immediately, shaking her head, “No, he can’t know I was here,” she added, stopping as headlights cut through the window, a car pulling up outside.

“I have to go, Fer…” she said, moving toward the door, gathering her things, then turning back to look at him.

There were a thousand things she wanted to say.

But more than anything, maybe, she just wanted to stay.

“Go,” he said quietly.

“Thank you,” she replied, opening the door and slipping out onto the landing.

Fernando stayed there, still, thinking.

Thinking about the fear in her eyes when she woke up.

He moved into the kitchen, running a hand through his hair, because even if he was getting through to her, little by little, the truth was he still couldn’t get her out of there, couldn’t pull her away from him.

It felt too big, too complicated, maybe even bigger than him.

All he could do was hope that tonight Leonardo wouldn’t notice anything, that he would just leave her alone.

He wanted to go knock on her door, check on her, but he knew it would only make things worse.

He picked up his phone anyway.

Fernando: Hey Roberto, not sure if you’re awake, it’s Fernando Roberto: I’m on shift, no chance of sleeping Roberto: What’s going on?

Roberto wasn’t stupid. If Alonso was texting him, it wasn’t small talk. It was about Martina.

Fernando: I was with Martina tonight, she told me about the kid Fernando: She was a mess, and that idiot left her alone Fernando: She had dinner here

Roberto leaned back in the doctors’ lounge, reading the messages, letting out a quiet breath, thinking that maybe, just maybe, Martina being with Fernando instead of Leonardo wasn’t such a bad thing.

Roberto: He’s an idiot… but she was better off with you Roberto: How was she? Fernando: Like shit at first, but she calmed down

He paused for a second, thinking about the way she had broken down, the way she had finally let herself go, how she had held onto him, how she had asked him for help without even saying it.

Fernando: The problem is she fell asleep, we both did, on the couch Fernando: She woke up terrified he’d find out Fernando: I don’t know what to do anymore Fernando: And I don’t know how much longer I can keep from punching him Roberto: Easy… Roberto: You’d make a mess, you know that Fernando: I know, but I’m not that patient Fernando: I really can’t accept that she keeps living like this Roberto: I’ll try talking to the hospital psychologist, see if he can have a word with her, unofficially Fernando: Okay Fernando: But I want to try talking to her too, properly Roberto: Try, but she might not listen Fernando: I know Fernando: But I have to try Roberto: Always had a savior complex or is this Marty’s fault? Fernando: What was I supposed to do, look the other way? Roberto: Plenty of people do Fernando: I can’t Fernando: You know her… she doesn’t deserve this Roberto: No one does Fernando: She less than anyone, you know how incredible she is Roberto: You know, when I read Alonso was going to Ferrari I never thought I’d end up texting him in the middle of the night Fernando: Didn’t think I’d end up in a situation like this either Roberto: We’ll get her out of there Fernando: I hope so… and I hope it’s before she gets really hurt

-

Martina: Hey Fer… Martina: …I wanted to apologize for the other night Fernando: Everything okay? Fernando: You’ve got nothing to apologize for Fernando: Just tell me you’re okay Martina: I’m okay Martina: I don’t think I even thanked you for… Not leaving me alone Fernando: Don’t worry about it, okay? Martina: Okay Martina: Listen, Tuesday’s my birthday Martina: Well, technically Wednesday, but Leo planned a party for Tuesday since he’s leaving the next day Martina: Will you come? If you’re here, I mean Fernando: I’ll be there, I’m here, leaving Thursday morning Martina: Thank you, I’m really glad Martina: I’ll send you the details later Fernando: Okay

Previous chapter - Next chapter

Fernando was sitting in a bar. Just any bar. A cap pulled low over his face so he wouldn’t be recognized and a spritz in front of him, he had never had one before, but he had heard everyone ordering it and so…

He was waiting for someone and, in the meantime, he thought. About what to say. About how to say it.

He heard the door open and immediately recognized Roberto’s tall, lean figure walking toward him.

“Hey Alonso,” he said, reaching the table and sitting down.

“Hi,” the driver greeted him. “Thanks for coming, I know it’s a bit strange…”

Roberto laughed. “A world champion texting me asking to talk? Yeah, a bit,” he admitted.

Fernando smiled. “Andrea gave me your number,” he said.

“I know,” the other replied. “I’m just curious to know what you want to talk about, because we don’t exactly share many friends.”

“Martina,” Fernando said simply, then paused for a moment, thinking. “Look, I’m the kind of guy who gets straight to the point, it’s what I do: I drive as fast as I can to the finish line, and I’m like that in everything,” he went on, fully capturing the other man’s attention.

“Okay, I just don’t understand…”

“…I think Leonardo is violent with her,” the driver cut in, and on Roberto’s face appeared an expression that wasn’t nearly as surprised as Fernando had expected.

“You think…” the doctor commented, then stopped for a long breath.

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Fernando asked, watching him closely.

Roberto paused, taking a moment to think.

“Cravedi is an asshole, one of those people I can’t stand, the kind who thinks he’s better than everyone else,” he began. “The kind who can’t stand being with someone smarter than him, more empathetic… better, I’d say… and yet his girlfriend is exactly that, and he can’t handle it.”

The doctor stopped again. “I’ve seen arguments between them, behaviors that… I didn’t like, and I talked to her about it, but… do you think he hurts her? Physically too?” he asked.

Fernando nodded. “I saw him grab her in the parking lot, I saw a bruise that could have been anything but…” he trailed off, gesturing, “and I’ve seen her be afraid, always, when he’s around.”

Roberto sighed again. “I should have thought about it, figured it out sooner,” he muttered to himself. “Have you talked to her?”

“No. We’re friends but… I mean, I’ve known her for a couple of months and I… I drive race cars, doc, I don’t know what the right way to deal with something like this is,” Fernando replied. “But I did talk to her father, and basically he told me I’m sticking my nose into things that don’t concern me, that Leonardo is already too much for her… and that Martina pretty much deserves it for the way she is.”

“Excuse me?” Roberto asked, incredulous.

“He doesn’t understand how Leonardo could be in love with his daughter, he says Marty is exhausting, insecure… that it’s normal for him to get irritated,” the driver explained. “Normal my ass,” he snapped.

Roberto ran his hands over his face, uncertain. “We need to think this through carefully, I know the first instinct would be to go there and punch him, but we have to be careful not to make things worse for her,” he said after a moment.

“I know. I even thought about reporting it myself, but they’re just suspicions, I probably don’t have proof, and he’d just get even angrier and it might be worse for her,” Fernando agreed.

“I’ll try talking to her, okay?” the doctor said. “See if I can understand more, in the meantime you keep your eyes open, and then we’ll figure out what to do…” he added with a sigh. “I’d tell her to leave that house tonight but…”

“Why does she stay there? Why does she stay with him even if he…” Fernando cut in, confused.

“Because for her it’s not what you see,” Roberto said finally.

Fernando frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you’re looking at it from the outside,” Roberto continued. “You see someone treating her badly and you think the solution is to leave. Simple,” he said with a faint, humorless smile. “For her, it’s not simple at all.”

Fernando didn’t say anything.

“Martina grew up like that,” Roberto added after a moment. “With someone who made everything her fault. Every mistake, every word, everything out of place. Always too little, or too much of something. If you think about what her father told you, he probably treated her the same way too, maybe not with violence, but by putting her down, constantly. And then there’s her mother who… well, she just left one day.”

Fernando lowered his gaze slightly.

“When you grow up with something like that inside you,” Roberto went on, “you don’t recognize it as wrong. You recognize it as normal, and so when it happens again…” he made a vague gesture, “you don’t think ‘this isn’t okay.’ You think ‘okay, I did something wrong.’”

Fernando clenched his jaw. “Even if she didn’t do anything…”

Roberto looked at him. “Exactly, for you she didn’t,” he paused, “but for her, she did.”

Fernando didn’t reply.

“And it’s not always like that,” Roberto continued more quietly. “There are moments when everything is fine. When he’s… normal. Even kind. And she holds on to those,” he paused again, “because those are the proof that maybe he’s not the problem.”

“But it’s obvious that he is,” Fernando said, more firmly.

“For you,” Roberto repeated. “For her, no. For her, the problem is whatever makes him snap.”

Fernando ran a hand over his face. “And so she stays?”

Roberto nodded slightly. “She stays because she thinks she can do better. She stays because she thinks if she stops making mistakes things will be fine. She stays because…” he hesitated, “because at some point you convince yourself that this is the best you can get.”

Fernando stayed still.

“And then there’s fear,” Roberto concluded.

“Of him?” Fernando asked.

“That too,” the doctor replied. “But not only that. Fear of being alone. Fear of having misunderstood everything. Fear of throwing away something that maybe… maybe could have worked.”

He shook his head slightly before continuing, “To get out of something like that you first have to understand that it’s wrong. And she’s not there yet.”

“And how do we help her understand that she’s worth so much more than this? That she doesn’t have to live her life like this?” the driver asked.

Roberto let out a slow breath. “You don’t make her understand,” he said.

Fernando looked at him.

“Not like that at least,” Roberto continued, leaning back in his chair. “It’s not enough to tell her. It’s not enough to treat her well for one evening and hope she sees the difference,” he shook his head slightly before going on, “if it were that simple, she would have left already.”

“You can stay close to her,” he added after a moment. “You can make sure she doesn’t feel wrong every time she speaks. You can show her that there’s a different way to be with someone. But the decision has to be hers, because if you force it, or drag her out of there before she’s ready… she’ll go back.”

Fernando frowned. “So what do we do, just wait?” he asked, more sharply.

Roberto gave a tired half-smile. “No,” he said. “We don’t just wait, we have to stay close to her, show her that she doesn’t have to earn everything. That she doesn’t have to apologize for existing. That someone can look at her without always searching for what’s wrong.”

Fernando sighed and Roberto smiled.

“You’re a damn good guy, Alonso, you know that?” he said.

“Anyone would do it,” Fernando replied automatically.

“No, no one has so far. Except you,” Roberto concluded, looking at him.

—

Fernando was heading home after the conversation with Roberto, it was only three in the afternoon, he walked through the gate and stopped, puzzled, in front of him Martina was crouched on the ground looking under a car a few meters away.

“Doc?” he asked, confused, and she turned her head, surprised.

“Hey!” she greeted him before going back to look under the car.

“I’m not sure I want to ask what you’re doing,” Fernando joked, walking closer.

“There’s a cat under there, it’s been wandering around the courtyard for weeks, I think it ran away or was abandoned, it doesn’t look like a stray, but it doesn’t have a collar,” she replied, and Fernando crouched down next to her. “Do you see it?” she asked, pointing.

Under the car there was a striped kitten watching them warily.

“Oh yeah! I’ve seen it these past few days,” Fernando said, recognizing it.

“I tried bringing it some food,” she said, placing a small bowl on the ground.

Fernando smiled. “Do you want to take it home, doc?”

“I wish,” she answered immediately, then added, “Leonardo doesn’t want pets. I had a cat years ago, I had to give it away, it was all white, beautiful,” she said, smiling as the animal stepped out from under the car and approached them.

They both fell silent, she watching the cat, him thinking about what she had just said.

“If we manage to catch it without getting killed, I’ll take it upstairs,” he said after a moment, without much hesitation.

“What?” she echoed, surprised.

“I’ll take it upstairs, and when I’m away for races maybe you can help me out and check on it, what do you say? I’ll give you the keys, I’ll even let you use my huge TV,” he said, looking at her.

Martina stared at him. “The keys to your place?” she asked, a bit incredulous.

“I trust you, doc, you’re not going to rob me,” he replied, glancing at the cat in front of them that had started eating. “And you can come cuddle it whenever you want,” he added, carefully reaching out to pet the animal, which let him without any problem.

Martina smiled without saying anything and reached out as well, petting the cat that started purring. “He likes us… or she likes us,” she laughed.

“We’ll be great owners,” Fernando joked, scratching the little creature’s head.

“Us?” she laughed, looking at him.

“Us, Marty, you promised you’d help me, right?” he replied with a smile, and she nodded slightly, picking the cat up, which was clearly used to human contact.

“We need to take it to the vet, and get a litter box and…”

“…are you busy?” the driver interrupted.

“Now?” she laughed.

“Now, doc, are you busy?” he insisted, and she burst out laughing, shaking her head. “Then let’s go shopping, come on, and let’s find a vet somewhere…” he continued, getting to his feet. “But first… what do we call it?”

“We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl…” she commented, looking at the animal. “Spritz,” she suddenly said, and Fernando burst out laughing.

“No wait, you want to call it… Spritz?” he said, amused.

“It’s a nice name, it works for both a male and a female,” she laughed, still petting the cat.

“Alright, fine… let’s go shopping for Spritz,” the driver agreed, amused.

“Thank you,” she said more quietly, almost without looking at him.

“You deserve something that makes you happy, you know that, right?” Fernando replied, and Martina fell silent. “Come on,” he added, placing a hand on her back and guiding her toward his car.

—

It was past seven when Martina and Fernando got back home after a visit to the vet and a series of purchases for the driver’s new roommate.

They were waiting for the elevator when Leonardo’s voice came from behind them. “What the…” he started, seeing the bags and Martina holding the carrier. “You bought a cat?” he snapped.

“I bought a cat,” Fernando immediately stepped in. “I didn’t know where to go so I asked Martina to help me,” he continued, taking control of the situation to avoid any misunderstanding. “I needed to find a store, a vet, and Giorgio told me to ask her since she knows her way around,” he added, coming up with a perfectly solid excuse.

Martina glanced at him for just a second, caught off guard: he was covering for her.

“A cat, Alonso? Aren’t you always traveling around the world?” Leonardo laughed, stepping into the elevator with them.

“I asked Marty if she can help me when I’m not around, is that a problem for you?” Fernando replied.

He absolutely hated the idea of asking him for permission, but he knew it was the right thing to do in that moment to avoid consequences… for her.

“Of course, whatever you need Marty can help you, she has time anyway,” Leonardo answered right away, liking the idea of being connected to someone so famous.

“Perfect, thanks Leo,” Fernando replied with fake gratitude and a smile that hid the urge to punch him. “Will you help me set things up at my place?” he then asked Martina, who before answering glanced at Leonardo, who gave a barely noticeable nod.

“Sure,” she replied, following the driver toward his apartment.

“Hey Alonso… there’s a party next week, organized by my department, pretty important thing, you coming?” Leonardo asked, and Fernando looked at him.

He obviously wanted to say no, he had absolutely no desire to see him again.

“Sure,” he answered instead. “If I’m not away, sure, let me know,” he added with a perfectly staged smile.

“Great!” Leonardo exclaimed. “Don’t take too long Marty, I’ll be waiting,” he added before opening their door and closing it behind him.

They entered Fernando’s apartment, starting to set up the cat’s things, while the little animal immediately slipped around the house, exploring its new home.

“Thank you,” Martina said at one point, looking up at Fernando. “For what you said to Leonardo, I…”

“…don’t worry,” he cut her off. “I’m on your side, Marty, okay?” he continued, his tone calm and reassuring. “And whenever you need…” he added, taking a set of keys, “now you can come here,” he finished, handing them to her. “You can’t let our Spritz starve, right?” he smiled, and she laughed, though her eyes were shining.

Inside, she felt an overwhelming gratitude, and even more than that, she felt that that Spanish guy was the friend she had always wished to have.

The friend…

“I’ll take care of it, you just need to tell me when you’re away,” she said after a moment.

“Of course,” he reassured her, and Martina crouched down to give the cat one last cuddle.

“I should go,” she said, standing up.

“I’ll text you tomorrow, okay? If we’re in trouble I’ll let you know,” Fernando joked, walking her to the door and saying goodbye.

The door closed behind Martina and Fernando turned, finding the cat at his feet, looking up at him curiously. He bent down, picking it up and lifting it to his face. “The things you do for a woman, huh Spritz?” he said with a smile before putting it down and heading to the kitchen, the animal following him patiently.

“You’ve got to help me, we need to help her, okay? I’m not exactly sure how yet but… we’ll figure something out, right?” he went on, talking to the cat, which meowed, and Fernando looked at it, surprised, as if Spritz had just answered him. “Glad to know I have your cooperation, my friend,” he laughed, shaking his head.

None of this was how he had imagined his experience in Maranello.

But sometimes the unexpected things are the best ones.

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He could walk around the city without any problem, a cap pulled low on his head and a dark scarf wrapped around his neck, unnoticed, unrecognized, and he liked that more than he would have expected.

He had just had lunch with Edoardo after a particularly intense training session, and then he had decided to walk back home, but, unsurprisingly, he had ended up half-lost among the streets of that small town.

It didn’t worry him much, at some point he would just call Filippo, his driver, and have him come pick him up.

There weren’t many people around, it was three in the afternoon and the air felt sleepy and grey, a kind of silence he didn’t mind at all, and he found himself curious, watching the habits of the people who lived there, the shop windows, the ones sitting quietly in cafés.

“Exploring the area?” a familiar voice called from behind him. He turned and saw Martina, Giorgio De Marchi’s daughter, smiling at him.

“Yeah…” he replied, “or rather, I was trying to get back home but I got lost,” he added with easy honesty.

Martina laughed softly. “I’ll show you the best way then, if you want.”

“Gladly,” he said. “Did you just get off work?” he asked, noticing the backpack over her shoulder and the tired look in her eyes.

“Yeah, finally heading home, I started at six this morning,” she replied as they both resumed walking.

“Sounds like you’re well trained in exhaustion too,” Fernando commented, and she nodded.

“There are shifts where you don’t get a single break… like a race, right?” she smiled.

“But a race lasts an hour and a half, not eight,” he pointed out. “You do a difficult job, harder than most, you know that, right?”

She shrugged. “I like it, it keeps me active, you have to think fast, act immediately. Sometimes it’s awful… when you can’t save them… but it was the residency I wanted,” she said simply, that natural ease slipping over her words.

She spoke almost always in a low voice, soft and gentle, like someone who didn’t want to be heard too much. She didn’t always lift her gaze while talking, as if she didn’t want to challenge whoever was in front of her, her eyes often lowered or fixed somewhere ahead. She smiled, the corners of her lips lifting, but the smile never quite reached her eyes.

“What’s it like working with my dad?” Martina asked after a while.

“I like it, he knows what he’s doing, he knows everything about Ferrari,” Fernando replied.

“He and Andrea have been there forever,” she said.

“You know Andrea?” he asked, curious.

“For years, more or less… I kind of grew up around Ferrari, and his brother-in-law is my mentor, so we crossed paths here and there,” she explained.

“See?” Martina said, stopping for a moment and pointing at a street. “If you go that way, it’s a shortcut, you’ll get home quickly.”

“Got it, better remember that,” he smiled.

“I didn’t think you’d go wandering around on your own,” she went on as they started walking again.

“Why?” Fernando laughed, confused.

“You’re famous, the great Ferrari driver, and you walk around Maranello alone, without a driver, a bodyguard, or whatever…” she explained.

“I don’t have a bodyguard,” Fernando laughed, amused. “I’m not Brad Pitt, I’m just a driver…”

Martina burst out laughing, a spontaneous, genuine laugh. “You know they’ve painted you as some kind of messiah in the Italian newspapers, right?” she said, finally meeting his eyes.

And for the first time, Fernando caught a spark in them he hadn’t seen before.

“I’m just a driver,” he repeated, simply.

“A famous one, with a lot of money and women, from what they say,” she teased, still smiling, before stopping abruptly. “Sorry…” she added quickly, lowering her gaze. “I didn’t mean to be inappropriate or…”

“Hey…” Fernando cut her off immediately, struck by that sudden shift in her tone. “We’re joking, it’s fine,” he reassured her with a smile.

“Sometimes I talk too much,” she said, slipping her hands into her pockets. “Leo always tells me I should learn to stay quiet and mind my own business,” she admitted, without lifting her head.

“I don’t get offended that easily, I do have quite a bit of money, and I’ve had quite a few women…” he said lightly, trying to ease the tension. “…now I only have the money and a very angry ex, but anyway…” he added, noticing the small smile returning to her face.

“Come on, take me home, I got that it’s straight ahead but better if you lead,” he said, breaking the silence again.

They kept walking until they reached the building, the last stretch passing in silence. Martina had stopped talking, and he didn’t know her well enough to understand what to do.

“Thanks for walking me home,” Fernando said as they stepped into the elevator.

“My dad would never forgive me if I lost his new driver,” she smiled, leaning back against the wall.

Fernando smiled.

“If you need help with anything, groceries or… I don’t know, ‘Italian things,’ just knock, okay?” she added.

“Can I have your number? In case I get in trouble,” Fernando asked.

He didn’t really know why he had said it, he didn’t need her number. He had a housekeeper, an assistant, a driver, a personal trainer, a physiotherapist.

He didn’t need Martina too.

She hesitated for a moment, something in her expression he couldn’t quite read, a mix of discomfort and uncertainty.

“Sure,” she said after a moment, giving him her number and waiting for him to call so she could save his.

“Thanks,” Fernando said, his hand on the door handle, looking at her while she stood there with her key in the lock.

Martina turned her face and smiled. “Thank you for the walk,” she replied, and Fernando found himself thinking that there was something about her he couldn’t quite grasp, something in that girl so polite.

—

It was a February evening like any other, one of the rare ones where Fernando was alone, where he had sent Ornella home early, determined to manage on his own and not have someone around all the time.

Managing meant reheating what she had cooked.

But the task turned out to be more complicated than expected, because the stove didn’t seem to have any intention of turning on, nor did the oven.

He had been standing there for at least fifteen minutes, annoyed by the fact that he could handle the thousand buttons of a Formula 1 steering wheel perfectly but couldn’t figure out how to turn on a stove.

The point was that he was starving and had no intention of calling someone to bring him food, nor of surviving on the salad sitting in the fridge, so, whether he liked it or not, he had to ask for help.

He sighed, slipped on a pair of shoes, and stepped out onto the landing, knocking on the door across from his.

After all, it was just a quick favor, and she had told him to ask if he needed anything.

A moment later, Martina opened the door, clearly surprised to see him there.

“Hi,” she said with a smile.

“Hi, sorry to bother you…” he said immediately.

“Not at all, what’s wrong?” she asked, curious.

“Please don’t laugh…” he said, already amused himself. “I can’t use the stove. Or the oven…”

Martina laughed. “Sorry… but a world champion who can’t use a stove is something,” she said. “Wait…” she added, putting on her shoes, then turning back inside for a second, as if checking something before deciding to come out.

The sound of a shower echoed faintly from inside, and she hesitated for just a moment before grabbing her keys and following him.

“Thanks…” he said, letting her in, watching the way she moved, that carefulness in everything she did. She looked ready to go out, wearing a dark green dress, her hair tied up, makeup he hadn’t noticed before.

She was pretty, a kind of beauty that almost seemed faded, as if she were afraid of being noticed too much despite the lean, trained body visible beneath her clothes.

“Here, you just do this,” she said, showing him the lock button on the stove and how to turn on each burner.

“I could have figured that out,” he joked, shaking his head. “You saved me from starving, I’ll be forever grateful…”

“It’s nothing, I’m right across the hall, just knock if you need anything,” she said. “How are you doing with the washing machine?” she teased.

“I don’t do that, so I’d say I’m fine,” he smiled.

“I should go, we’re going out to dinner,” she said, heading toward the door.

“Of course… say hi to your boyfriend, thanks again,” Fernando replied, walking her out.

There was something about that girl, something fragile and incredibly delicate he couldn’t quite define. She always seemed to be walking on tiptoe, as if she didn’t want to make noise, didn’t want to be noticed.

And yet, when she smiled, something about her pulled all of his attention in.

Even if it was a small, timid smile, it still made him want to smile back.

Fernando went back to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of wine and finally putting his dinner to heat.

A moment later he noticed a loud insect flying around, and patiently guided it toward the living room window with a newspaper, opening it to let it out.

As he did, he heard voices coming from the parking lot. He looked down, and despite the dim light, he immediately recognized Leonardo and Martina.

“What the hell were you doing at his place?!” the man snapped, turning toward her, hands in his pockets, irritation written all over him.

“He asked me for help…” she replied, standing a few steps behind.

“Raise your fucking voice when you talk to me, I can’t even hear you,” he cut her off, grabbing her arm and pulling her toward him. “Hurry, you’re making me late like always,” he added, shoving her toward the car.

Fernando froze, watching the scene, watching Martina with her head down getting into the car, him slamming the door and starting the engine.

It took him a moment to fully process what he had just seen.

That was one of those scenes you don’t expect to witness… one of those that are simply wrong.

That man had spoken to her like that, had grabbed her, yelled at her, for nothing.

Or rather, from what he understood, because she had helped him with something as trivial as the stove.

Leonardo might have seemed like an asshole, but there’s a difference between being an asshole and grabbing your girlfriend like that, silencing her as if she meant nothing.

He closed the window, thoughtful. In the end, it had just been a small argument, he barely knew them, maybe he had misunderstood everything.

Even if it was hard to misunderstand a shove like that.

He went back to the kitchen, more unsettled than he wanted to admit, fixing himself a plate and grabbing his phone to reply to a few messages.

It wasn’t his business.

That was the point.

But was he really the kind of man who could just look the other way?

—

The next day Fernando was in Maranello, sitting at a table covered in papers, talking with Andrea Stella about the latest simulator settings.

They had taken a break for coffee, chatting about nothing in particular.

“Hey, do you know Martina, Giorgio’s daughter?” Fernando asked at some point.

“Yeah,” Andrea replied. “She works with my brother-in-law, they studied together.”

“She’s my neighbor,” Fernando said. “The other day she helped me with the stove.”

“She’s a very sweet girl,” Andrea commented.

“And her boyfriend? Do you know him?” Fernando asked.

“I’ve met him once or twice… Giorgio talks about him all the time,” Andrea replied.

“Yeah, more than he talks about his daughter,” Fernando let slip, earning a puzzled look. “Never mind, I saw them arguing the other night, he seemed… kind of an asshole…”

“He thinks he’s a genius,” Andrea admitted.

Fernando nodded. It didn’t seem right to say what he had seen. It had been dark, maybe he hadn’t seen things clearly.

But he couldn’t get it out of his head, the way he had grabbed her, the way he had spoken to her, and the silence she had fallen into.

Martina was a doctor, she didn’t seem like someone who would be afraid of nothing.

And yet she always seemed to be walking on a thin line, trying not to step on anyone’s toes.

Fernando shook his head. He had always been the kind of person who overthought everything, building stories out of nothing.

She was just his neighbor, with a boyfriend a little too full of himself.

That was all.

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