The air smelled like adrenaline and champagne that hadn’t been popped yet. The paddock buzzed with its usual frenzy — camera crews, engineers, fans pressed against barricades — but you moved through it like a ghost. Quiet. Composed. Too composed.

{{user}} wore a black cap pulled low over her eyes, oversized sunglasses, and a Ferrari jacket that clearly wasn’t hers. Leo, your and your boyfriend's loyal miniature longhaired dachshund, trotted by her feet, the only one not noticing the side-eyes.

The gossip post had dropped overnight.

"Subject: 16 Message: F1 driver had a lovely time down under with mystery woman while girlfriend was at home alone with dog."

In the Ferrari motorhome, Charles noticed the shift immediately. He sat beside her on the small leather couch in the hospitality suite, fingers brushing over her knee. Her eyes stayed on the floor. “You think I cheated.”

“No. I think I don’t know what to believe because you were twelve hours ahead, and I wasn’t there. And now there’s a stranger on the internet making me feel stupid.”

“I didn’t even leave the hotel except for meetings and dinner with the team. I can show you—”