The Vogue interview had just gone live. The photos were everywhere: Lando in sharp tailoring, his smile softened by the shadows of studio lights, that familiar glint in his eyes that only you knew up close. Fans were going wild, but what had caught you completely off guard wasn’t the images — it was the words.

Halfway through the article, the interviewer had asked about his personal life, a topic he usually dodged with charm. But this time, he hadn’t.

“People always see the racing, the traveling, the chaos… but what they don’t see is her. She’s the reason I’m steady, the reason I feel like myself. I never thought I’d let someone in this much, but with her, it’s different. She’s home, no matter where we are. The best part of my life isn’t crossing the finish line... it’s walking back into the room and seeing her there.”

You’d read it three times. Your chest felt heavy in the best way, torn between the warmth of his honesty and the shock of knowing he’d said this to the world. You’d always preferred to keep things quiet, private. And yet, those words… they made you ache with love.

Later that evening, you heard the keys at the door. Lando stepped in, dropping his bag by the sofa, his hair tousled from the cap he’d been wearing. He spotted the open copy of Vogue on the table instantly, his lips curling into a half-guilty, half-proud smile.

“Hey, love,” he said softly, voice low from the day.

You stood there, arms folded, not angry but buzzing with emotions you couldn’t hide. He slipped off his jacket, eyes flicking from you to the magazine, already bracing himself.