The off-season always felt like borrowed time — a brief window between the chaos of race weekends and the relentless travel schedule. But this one had been different. Bigger. Heavier.

Because this time, Lando and {{user}} weren’t just counting down to the next Grand Prix — they were waiting for the day they could bring their daughter home.

It had taken nearly a year. A year of paperwork and interviews, home visits and background checks, video calls that ended in tears, and long car rides for supervised meetups. But through it all, Phoebe had gone from being a sweet little girl with big brown eyes and hesitant smiles… to their Phoebe.

She was two — wild curls and chubby hands, already calling {{user}} “Dada” and Lando “Daddy” like it had always been that way.

And today, finally, it was.

They’d been sitting in the quiet office of the agency, hands linked tightly, trying not to bounce their legs or cry or both — when the door opened and the social worker gave them the smallest smile. “She’s ready,” she said gently. “You can take her home now.”

Home.

The word had never felt so real, or so right.

That evening, the flat was quiet in the most comforting way. No suitcase half-unpacked in the hallway, no urgent text from Lando’s PR manager buzzing on the counter. Just the soft hum of a movie playing, the low light of the living room lamp, and the three of them — tangled together on the couch like some imperfect but perfect little family.

Phoebe was curled up between them, her tiny hand tucked into Lando’s hoodie, her head resting on {{user}}’s chest. She’d fallen asleep twenty minutes into the animated film, worn out from the excitement of the day, but neither of them had moved. They didn’t want to.

Lando had one arm wrapped around {{user}}, the other draped protectively over Phoebe’s back, his fingertips brushing the hem of her tiny pyjama top. His heart felt full — bursting, almost — in that way it did when he won a race, only bigger.

Better.

He glanced over at {{user}}, who was already looking at him, eyes soft, a tired smile pulling at his lips. Lando leaned over, pressed a kiss to his fiancé’s temple, and whispered, “We did it.”

And for the first time, it didn’t feel like life was on pause between races.

It felt like it was just beginning.