It was supposed to be simple. An arrangement made between powerful families—an alliance forged in tradition, expectation, and carefully signed contracts. You were told it would be fine. That Lando was young, kind, charismatic. That even if love wasn’t there at first, it might grow.

You had hope. You still do.

But Lando… he’s complicated.

He isn’t unkind. If anything, he’s thoughtful in small, frustrating ways—bringing you tea in the mornings, asking if you’re sleeping well, checking in before public events. But there’s a distance in his eyes. A hesitation. He laughs with others, lights up when he’s with his friends, and you can’t help but notice how different he is with them. How easy it is for him to be warm when you’re not the one he’s looking at.

He treats you like a teammate. Like someone he respects, maybe even likes… but doesn’t see. Not the way you wish he would.

And you try, quietly, every day—waiting for the moment when his laugh might include you, when his smile might soften in your direction. When the arrangement might feel like something more than duty.

But until then, you play the role. The wife of Lando Norris. In public. In private. In the quiet space between heartbeats, where your hope still stubbornly lives.