Driven to you - OP81

Between the lines and the pages

Cocco's father, initially stunned, eventually nodded and said:

"She's always known what she wanted. I just didn't think it would come in a racing suit."

......

They married in Turin, in the garden of her family's home, the summer after graduation. No flashy venues, no tabloids, no pressure. Just a celebration of something that had always quietly been true.

Oscar wore a navy suit. Cocco wore her mother's altered silk dress.
They held hands during the ceremony like they had during exams, during goodbyes, during late-night walks around school grounds.

Camilla gave the toast.
Giovanni made a playlist and cried when no one was looking.
Edoardo took blurry photos and pretended to be annoyed when his voice cracked during the speech.

The Dreambook was placed on a table with the guestbook. They invited everyone to add a dream of their own.

Cocco and Oscar each wrote a final entry on their wedding night:

"Dream #88: Make this love last beyond the ordinary. Build a life so gentle and fierce it scares people."
— Cocco
"Dream #89: Win with her. Lose with her. Grow with her. Never without."
— Oscar

Together they wrote:

We didn't marry to fix anything.
We married because there was nothing broken.
Because love doesn't have to wait until you're older, or richer, or surer.
Sometimes, when you know, you know.
And we knew.
— Cocco & Ossie

.....

They were twenty when the twins arrived.

Elia came out first — wide-eyed, strong-lunged, already impatient.
Sofia followed moments later, quieter, but with a tiny fist curled around Cocco's pinky like she'd been waiting for this moment her whole life.

They were born in a hospital in Turin, because Cocco couldn't imagine not being home when it happened. Oscar flew in the night before, barely made it. Camilla got a speeding ticket and Edoardo parked the car with such precision that the nurses assumed he was a surgeon.

And just like that — the two of them became four.

They didn't pretend it was easy. It wasn't.

Cocco took her law classes online for the first year, breastfeeding during lectures and highlighting case law with a baby strapped to her chest.
Oscar juggled testing schedules and night feeds, often waking up with formula in his hair and racing telemetry in his inbox.
They lived mostly between Turin and Woking, wherever Oscar's racing schedule took them and wherever Cocco's family could help.

Edoardo built them a portable crib with carbon-fiber panels and a side latch that clicked like a McLaren wing. He said it would "grown with them until kindergarten." It didn't — but they still kept it.

Camilla practically moved in during exam seasons. Giovanni, then still in uni, came on weekends, pretending he was doing homework but really just wanting to hold Sofia while playing Elia her indie playlists.

And through all of it, Oscar and Cocco never drifted. They missed sleep, but never missed each other.

......

Cocco passed her first-year university exams with top marks.
Oscar placed top five in F3 and started getting serious attention from big names.

They celebrated not with champagne, but with leftover pizza, tired laughs, and whispered conversations in the dark while the twins slept between them.

They didn't go out much. They didn't vacation. Their version of romance was making each other tea without being asked. Was texting, "Elia said 'car' before he said 'mamma' — yell at your son."

And once, when Oscar was away for three weeks of back-to-back testing, he left Dreambook entries hidden in drawers around the flat for her to find.

"Dream #104: You were right about Sofia's curls."
"Dream #105: Elia says 'brmmm' every time I FaceTime. That counts as first words."
"Dream #106: I miss your forehead against mine. Come kiss me at the door."

Oscar never brought the twins to the paddock. He never posted them, never mentioned them in interviews. Not because he wasn't proud — but because he was fiercely private.

F1 was a world full of noise. But Cocco, Elia, and Sofia were his quiet.

Still, in small ways, they were always with him:

A bracelet Sofia had knotted around his wrist with plastic beads — he never raced without it.
The page from the Dreambook still tucked in his race suit from his first Formula Renault win, now worn soft like a relic.
And every win, every podium, every hard-fought point — he called Cocco first, even before Mark Webber. Even before his engineers.

.....

At 22, Cocco started attending classes in-person again. They enrolled the twins at a bilingual preschool near Woking.

At 23, Oscar signed full-time with McLaren.

Cocco landed a prestigious internship with a legal advocacy firm focused on cross-border human rights cases.

Elia learned to say "fast like papa".
Sofia corrected him with "no, kind like mamma."

They had dinner together every night they could. Pasta, mostly. Wine, when they weren't too tired. Cocco talked about her cases. Oscar read aloud from the Dreambook — their "one page a week" rule still sacred.

They were still building, still learning.
But they were never lost.

Not with each other.