We reached the table prepared for us, and instead of dropping my hand, he lifted it to press a lingering kiss to my knuckles—a gesture so intimate it stole the breath from the entire room. His wedding band caught the stage lights in a bright, undeniable gleam.
Whispers rose, gasps, murmurs that turned into a chaotic symphony of disbelief.
We sat together, shoulders brushing in the way only two people who shared a bed—and a life—could.
The moderator cleared his throat, flustered, glancing between us both. “Ah—right. Thank you both for joining us. We’ll begin with the scheduled questions and then open the floor.”
Cal leaned forward slightly, his voice smooth and warm enough to settle even the most frantic press in the room. “Of course,” he said. “We’re happy to be here.”
We.
For some reason, that made me giddy. The thought that I didn’t have to sit here representing myself as a lone driver fighting a system with a team that didn’t listen to a damn thing until I made them listen… was solace enough.
The crowd quieted, pitching forward like they’d miss a beat if they didn’t get closer. Every camera lens felt like an eye waiting to catch history in the making.
The moderator began with a neutral prompt. “Callum, there have been rumors circulating about a major announcement regarding your future. Is there anything you’d like to address?”
Cal exhaled, long and easy, like the air had been trapped inside him for far too long and he was finally letting it go.
“Well,” he said, glancing at me first, and instead of the nerves I expected, he gave me a lazy grin.He was ready.“I suppose there’s no reason to drag it out.”
The room stilled, poised at the edge.
He turned back to the press, posture steady, voice stronger than I’d ever heard it. “This will be my final season in Formula 1 as a driver.”
The sound died for one second, two, three—then came back all at once. We were bombarded with shouts, questions, disbelief tumbling over itself in a frenzy.
But Cal waited until the noise softened again, his thumb tracing the back of my hand in calming, almost unconscious circles.
“I’m not leaving the sport,” he continued. “Only changing my role.” He let a small, satisfied smile appear. “Next year, I’ll be stepping into ownership as part of Speed Demons Racing, which meant I had to retire from racing.”
A stunned uproar. I could hear the breaking of a hundred headlines at once. The grid was shifting beneath the world’s feet, but none of it compared to what came next.
“I always knew the day would come. I never knew how or what it would look like.” Callum’s expression softened—not for the crowd, but for me. For us. “And the truth is, I didn’t understand what my future could look like until I found something worth slowing down for.”
My heart lodged itself in my throat.
This wasn’t in the original plan for today. This wasn’t rehearsed. This wasn’t safe.
This washim. Raw, unfiltered, and unbelievably in love.
He lifted our joined hands onto the table. “We got married in Greece over summer break,” he told the world gently—proudly. “And it was the easiest decision of my life. Now it’s my time to step back and watch someone else lead the grid.”
There was a moment of silence so complete it felt holy.
And then the world broke open. Flashbulbs detonated. Reporters rose to their feet. Shouts filled the air—questions, cheers, a few stunned curses from the front row.
But all of it blurred, fell away, dissolved into something distant and weightless as Cal leaned in until his shoulder pressed fully into mine.
“We’re not hiding anymore,” he said under the chaos, so softly only I could hear.
I tilted my head toward him. “Good,” I whispered. “They can just keep watching.”
His answering smile was pure sunlight.
I turned to the microphone, lifting it slowly, letting the room fall quiet as they realized I was about to speak. “We will not be answering questions regarding the wedding or anything pertaining to our marriage. Those are private details that will be shared when, andif, we are ready.”
The moderator looked like he was about to protest.
