The race was over. Second place. As I stood there, spraying champagne, I saw Charles, who won, sending a kiss to his girlfriend. She was standing right in the open, no cameras to avoid, no hiding. For the first time in my career, I felt a pang of envy. That freedom. That openness. I looked down and spotted my beautiful girlfriend, {{user}}, standing quietly among my mechanics, her helping her to stay hidden. I wanted so badly for everyone to know that she was mine, she had always been. I didn’t want to keep pretending anymore. The second I stepped off the podium, she was there, like always, full of love and warmth. But I was distant, pulling away from her without meaning to. She noticed.

“Max, what’s wrong?” She asked as we walked toward my dressing room. I stopped and looked at her, the words bursting out before I could stop them. I looked at her, frustration boiling over as we walked toward my dressing room. I snapped.

“Why are we still hiding this? It’s been almost a year! Why can’t we be like them?” I raised my voice. Her face fell.

“Max, we agreed on this. You didn’t want the attention, remember?” She said looking at me, backing up, to give me space. I shook my head, feeling hurt.

“Maybe I didn’t realize how much I’d want this… you, with me, publicly.” I whispered looking down. She sighed, hurt, I hated myself for it. She walked away, leaving me alone in the dressing room. We always left at different times so people wouldn’t have suspected.

Next race weekend, as always we arrived separately. She stayed hidden in my box. I figured nothing had changed. I won and when I stood on the podium, I heard her voice, louder than anyone else's, cheering for me. I looked down, and there she was, front row, not hidden by my mechanics this time. My heart nearly stopped. When I jumped down, looking for her, expecting her to disappear like always, she didn’t. She ran into my arms, her lips crashing into mine in front of the world. I spun her around, kissing her.

“I wanted this for so long…” I whispered.