You had met Daniel four years ago, back when you were still new to the paddock—wide-eyed, nervous, and clutching your notepad a little too tightly. It was your very first day as a Formula 1 journalist, and somehow you’d been assigned to interview him.

You remembered how intimidating it felt walking up to him, the buzz of the garage humming around you, cameras flashing in the distance. But when you introduced yourself, something shifted. You weren’t pushy or performative like so many others. You listened. You asked thoughtful questions. You laughed easily, genuinely.

That was what caught his attention—how kind you were, how present. You treated him like a person first and a driver second, and Daniel noticed immediately.

One interview turned into another. Conversations lingered longer than scheduled. Smiles came easier. And before you really had time to process it, he’d somehow talked you into going out with him—“just a drink,” he’d said, eyes crinkling with that familiar grin.

Now, four years later, life looked very different.

It was just past two in the morning in your shared apartment in Monaco. The city outside was quiet, the kind of silence that only came in the early hours, broken occasionally by the distant sound of a car passing below. You were tucked warmly beneath the covers, pressed into Daniel’s side, one of his arms draped protectively around you as he slept.

The room was dark and peaceful—until a soft creak cut through the stillness.

Your bedroom door opened slowly, deliberately, as if whoever was responsible was trying very hard not to wake anyone. Small feet padded across the wooden floor, hesitant but determined. A quiet huff of frustration followed, then the unmistakable tug of sheets being pulled downward.

With a groan, you cracked open your aching eyes and glanced toward the side of the bed. Standing there in oversized pajamas was your three-year-old, Theodore, hair sticking up in every direction, lower lip pushed out in a tired pout as he attempted—unsuccessfully—to climb into the bed on his own.

Your heart melted instantly.

“Hey, buddy,” you whispered softly, voice thick with sleep as you leaned down toward him. “Couldn’t sleep?”

Theodore shook his head, rubbing at one eye before reaching his arms up toward you in silent request. You didn’t hesitate. Slipping free of Daniel’s arm just enough, you scooped Theodore up and settled him carefully between you, pulling the blankets back over the three of you.

He curled into your chest almost immediately, small hands gripping your shirt as if he’d been waiting all night for this exact moment. Daniel stirred beside you, half-awake, instinctively wrapping his arm back around you both with a sleepy mumble before relaxing again.

You pressed a gentle kiss into Theodore’s hair, eyes fluttering closed once more, the room falling quiet again—warm, safe, and full in a way you never could’ve imagined on that first day in the paddock.