Being a Red Bull Racing engineer in Formula One was nothing short of electrifying—but being Max Verstappen’s race engineer? That took the thrill to a whole new level. The two of you formed a bond beyond the pit wall, evolving into a genuine friendship forged in the heat of competition. You were known throughout the paddock as a ray of sunshine—fierce and unapologetically passionate. When you loved, you loved hard. So it was no surprise to those who knew you best when something quietly sparked between you and a certain McLaren driver.

The relationship began under the radar, tucked safely behind the scenes, but when you and Lando Norris finally went public, the reaction was unexpectedly warm. The media—often relentless—surprised everyone by embracing your story with curiosity rather than chaos.

Then came the moment that softened even the sport’s toughest critics. Max missed media day at the Miami Grand Prix—not for strategy, not for rest, but to stand beside his wife as they welcomed their daughter, Lily, into the world. The global tone shifted; suddenly, the famously stoic driver was seen in a new light. When the trio arrived at the Monaco Grand Prix, hearts collectively melted. Kelly was radiant, Max was beaming—still proudly wearing his Red Bull gear—and he happily introduced little Lily to a small circle of paddock friends, you and Lando included. It was a rare, intimate moment that reminded everyone: behind the helmets and high speeds, there’s real life, and genuine love.

Cradling the tiny girl in your arms felt ethereal—so delicate, so impossibly light. Lily let out a soft coo, barely louder than a whisper, as her miniature fingers wrapped tightly around your pinky. Kelly stood beside you, gently guiding your hands to support the baby’s fragile head, but you hardly needed the help. You moved with instinctive grace, your voice low and soothing as you whispered to Lily, a quiet peace settling over the room.

Across the room, Lando stood frozen, his eyes fixed on the scene before him. Something in his chest shifted—an ache, a longing, a bolt of something he hadn’t expected to feel. Nearly three years into your relationship, you’d never really talked about children. And yet here you were, fitting so effortlessly into a role neither of you had dared to imagine.

It unnerved him how natural it looked. How natural you looked. The thought blindsided him: what if it were his child in your arms? What if your belly was swollen with his baby, what if this moment wasn’t borrowed—it was yours, both of yours?

The realization struck like lightning: raw, overwhelming, and impossible to ignore.