We flushed, we washed our hands, and then we walked back out into the sitting room like nothing happened.
Like she didn’t have my cum pooling in her panties. Like I wasn’t still distracted thinking about every picture we didn’t let her family see.
Like this wasn't the same house that once made her feel small.
And now I had the privilege of watching her walk through it like it belonged to her. I followed—because I belonged to her too.
Caland I had barely been apart since Greece as we worked to split our belongings between properties.
We flew to Zandvoort together, dodged cameras in sunglasses and hoodies, kept our rings hidden beneath sleeves and clever body language. We could’ve just taken them off, but it felt like a betrayal in its own way. We were still newlyweds, and declaring each other publicly was practically a right of passage.
Being back in the paddock was surreal. Cal and I had existed in our bliss bubble for weeks now, but we’d been building a private life since well before that. To be back in the spotlight felt like a huge invasion of privacy after the luxury of summer break.
We arrived early this morning to get ahead of the crowds, both of us quiet and in our heads. Leaving behind the version of us that was solely wrapped up in each other, without a single care in the world, was bittersweet. But it was also exciting thinking about what was to come.
I glanced up at Cal as we strolled down the back hallways, hand-in-hand, and grinned. My husband wore his calm, calculated mask that revealed nothing that he felt. But only I saw the primal man underneath that.
We both still bore bruises from the animalistic vineyard sex that had pushed us both to our limits, both physically and emotionally. But it alwaysmade sense. Just another way to show the unconditional love and trust between each other.
I pulled him to a stop before we reached backstage. I sensed that he needed some kind of reassurance.
“Something is bothering you,” I stated, eyeing him scrupulously. “What is it, mon champion?”
He turned to me, releasing my hand to fold his arms across his chest, piercing blue eyes swimming with emotion. “I wanted to tell Dom before I announced it, but we keep missing each other.” He looked away, toward the doors leading to backstage. “He deserves that.”
I hummed. “It’s okay if it’s more than that, mon amour.” That pulled his attention back to me as his brow furrowed. I gave him a reassuring smile. “I know this is bittersweet for you. I know you’ll miss racing because it’s all you’ve known for so long, but your love and passion for the sport will never change. And I know that you are also excited for what’s to come. Butboththings can be true. Let yourself feel it all.”
He sighed, and his shoulders dropped, like it being voiced aloud had set him free of the burden. “Yeah.” He chuckled. “That’s exactly it.”
“The time was always going to come. There is never a right or a wrong time, as long as it’syourdecision.” I mirrored his pose and crossed my arms.
He rolled his eyes and smirked at me. “Must you always be so wise, Mrs. Fraser?” he teased.
Mrs. Fraser.
I was still adjusting to that. Still waiting on all of my pieces of identification to come in with my married name. But the rings on my finger and the name on my passport had little to do with what made me his.
My eyes caught on the sign by the door.
Zandvoort Media Day feat. Callum Fraser + Aurélie Dubois
Today’s topics were: where’s the rivalry now? How do you balance racing and romance? How is your relationship handling being in the public eye? What are your thoughts on the documents that were leaked that corroborate what you’ve said all season?
The only thing we had discussed was that we weren’t planning to announce the marriage just yet. Rings would come off before the conference started, and we’d sit next to each other respectfully and pretend that at the end of the day, we were a lot more than justrivals.
Footsteps echoed in the hall behind Cal. He turned just as I leaned around him to see Victor Reinhardt strolling toward us with determination.
Uh-oh.
This could only mean something had changed now that the truth was out.
I swallowed down my own nerves. I didn’t know what to expect, and didn’t want to add on to whatever this was.
Except… Reinhardt didn’t look like a man unraveling. Not like the last time I’d seen him, rain-soaked and frantic in our hotel suite, asking for a moment of trust. No—this time, he looked composed. Crisp navy suit, subtle tie pin, expensive dressshoes. And new glasses that were understated and academic, like he’d stepped straight out of the boardroom.
He probably had.
“I’m glad I caught you two before you went in,” he said in his deep voice, sound almost relieved. He pinned me with an intense look. “Dubois. This was timed perfectly, Well done.”
