Oscar was a Formula 1 driver, meaning he was constantly on the move. {{user}} had to admit it. Sometimes she absolutely hated that racing was his job. He was often gone a lot, meaning he’d miss a lot of family events with her. {{user}}’s family always understood, but it didn’t mean she liked it.

This weekend was {{user}}’s birthday and of course, Oscar had a race. She knew she couldn’t argue it. He didn’t have a choice.

“{{user}}, I’m sorry. You know that, right?” Oscar said sitting next to her on the couch. “I hate that there’s a race this weekend. I wanna be with you and Carlie on your birthday.”