“Winning isn’t everything.” Another stir in the audience. Another click of cameras. But I only watched as her lips parted and her eyes widened. She knew me too well. She knew where this was going. At least, she thought she did.
I tilted my head slightly, lips quirking like I was completely aware of what I was about to do to the internet.
“Because this year,” I said, voice steady, certain, “I spent the season next to the most incredible rookie this sport has ever seen. Even though a lot of people didn’t want me to.”
Auri froze.
“Her debut season was a hell of a lot more impressive than mine. She fought a car that made her life a living hell, nearly injuring herself because of the tampered set up, and fought politics she never should have had to, just to be heard. And still, in her first season, is sitting here as Third in the Championship. Can you imagine what she’ll do with a top team next year?”
I cleared my throat, the weight of my trophy holding me still in this moment as my eyes found hers again.
“I saw firsthand what the future of Formula 1 looks like,” I continued, low, unwavering. “I watched someone fight for everything—against expectations, against doubts, against people who tried to tear her down before she even had the chance to prove them wrong. Her successes were often overshadowed, but make no mistake what she is capable of. She broke God knows how many records this year for women, blazing a trail that will burn brighter than any of us have ever seen before.”
I let my breath settle before dropping my voice just slightly.
“She didn’t just prove everyone wrong. She made them watch.”
The press was eating it up. The audience was locked in. My wife, on the other hand, was fighting tears. I turned toward her fully, saying this next part with my whole chest.
“She’s an inspiration. To women and young girls across the planet who’ve been told no because of their gender, to the sport as she demands change for unfair and unjust circumstances, and to me, for showing me that happiness doesn’t revolve around one dream, but many.”
Her hand flew to her mouth, and I knew she was going to hate me if I made her cry and messed up the pretty makeup she’d spent so much time on. But I wasn’t done.
“Most of you probably know I was in a bad crash earlier in the season. 48 G-forces should not have been something I walked away from, and I almost didn’t. In seconds, I went from a normal race to feeling a pain I’d never known before. It happened so fast, and suddenly I was in the barrier. The world had faded, and the last thing on my mind before I passed out was whether or not the woman in the navy and gold car behind me was okay. Because for the first time in my life, someone had given me the greatest gifts I could’ve asked for: hope and love. Wherethere’s hope, there’s survival, and where there’s love, there’s selflessness. And next thing I knew, she was out of her car and standing by my side, sacrificing herself and her race, only to go on and win it.”
I sighed. “I say all of this for a reason, and that’s that we could all stand to be a little more like Aurélie. She has a recipe for success that none of us have seen before. And I, for one, am excited to see what her future looks like.”
I grinned as I met her eyes again.
“I have no doubt that Aurélie Fraser will be a world champion.”
She wiped a tear away.
“And when that day comes,” I said, my voice cracking just slightly,“I’ll be in the front row, cheering the loudest for my wife, just like she is for me tonight.”
There was only a beat of silence before the crowd erupted.
The noise was deafening. Reporters scrambling, flashes blinding, murmurs and gasps and chaos.
And Auri just stared at me, wide-eyed and clapping like she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry., like she couldn’t believe it. Like she already knew it was true.
I didn’t move, I just smiled at her, soft and certain.
Because I already knew it too.
Then she cheered my name, rising to her feet, and the crowd followed.
And there she was again, the woman I’d fallen so hard for, the one who’d changed me completely and rewrote the course of my life. Leading a crowd the way she wanted it.
Because that was exactly who she was, and I would spend the rest of my life making sure she knew how highly I thought of her.
How much I respected her. How much I adored her.
But most importantly, how much I loved her.
The Scottish countrysidewas coated in white, the kind of cold that crept into your bones and never quite left. Snow blanketed everything—the stone cottages, the hedgerows, the single-lane roads that wound like secrets through the hills. Everything looked like a dream. Or maybe a memory I hadn’t lived yet.
All I knew is it was like driving through a real life Christmas village.
