December 2022
"Que veux-tu dire?" What do you mean? I asked, pressing the phone to my shoulder as I folded clothes into my suitcase.
Charles was still doing all kinds of different things in Maranello, and he had been in Abu Dhabi for long after that last race. He was already preparing for the next season, so I said I'd come visit Evie in Milan where she lived with Pierre whenever she wasn't in Los Angeles. She kind of hadn't even told Max about changing any addresses or anything, but just did, and Max barely seemed to notice because it was so normal that she was away.
Evie and Pierre had been going through a phase since the season ended, because Pierre wanted Evie to come home, but Evie didn't necessarily want to move her career from the states back to Europe. He wanted her closer, he was sick of the whole distance thing, but she wasn't ready to leave. It caused them to fight a lot, hence why she asked me to come. They can't fight if I'm there.
"C'était une décision hâtive... nous commençons à regretter de partir... ton père cherche des emplois à la maison," It was a hasty decision...we're starting to regret leaving...your dad is looking for jobs back home, my mom replied on the other end of the phone.
I put the shirt into the suitcase, then took the phone in my hands and sat down on the bed. She had called me and immediately asked me how I'd feel about her and dad coming back to Monaco. They had been gone for so long, and I missed them everyday of course. I would love for them to live closer again. But then she added: "to the house."
"J'aimerais que tu reviennes, maman. Que veux-tu dire à la maison?" I would like you to come back, mom. What do you mean the house? I asked, looking at myself in the mirror on the wall in front of me. I was slouching again, so I sat up and I straightened my back and rolled my shoulders back. Then I gave up and slouched again.
There was silence for a bit on the other side, and I wondered if I had used a tone that maybe sounded a little harsh.
"La famille qui a emménagé après nous... ils vendent la maison..." The family that moved in after us... they're selling the house... she started. The house we had just packed up and left so many years ago. Were we supposed to just come back to it? Would they live there alone?
"Envisagez-vous de le racheter?" Are you considering buying it back? I asked.
"Nous aimions cette maison... nous étions stupides de la quitter," We loved that house... we were stupid to leave it, she replied. "On veut être plus proche de toi, de Pascale maintenant qu'elle est toute seule, on veut être proche quand on aura des petits-enfants," we want to be close to you, to Pascale now that she's all alone, when we have grandchildren, she added, which was when I stopped her.
"Nous ne pensons même pas encore aux enfants," We're not even thinking about children yet, I said quickly.
"Mais le moment venu," But when the time comes, she replied, "La maison est idéale pour que les enfants puissent courir," The house is great for children to run around.
I knew that it was great for kids to run around, because I had been running around there. So had Charles and Arthur. So had Lorenzo and Jules. It's a perfect home for a family with children. But they don't have any children living at home. They have a daughter who might have kids in multiple years. It just felt weird thinking about them back in that house? Would they just put everything back the way it was and pretend like we never left? Would it feel better if they didn't put it back and just made it look completely different?
"Ça sonne bien, maman," It sounds great, mom, I replied after a moment of silence. I have found myself a bit scared of conflict lately. Some may argue that I've always been scared of conflict, and I suppose there might be some truth in that. But I'd rather let it go than try to explain to her that something feels off about their decision. I also didn't want to hurt her feelings and make her believe that I don't want her to move back.
We wrapped up the call and we hung up. I finally let out a sigh and I looked out the window. When we first moved in, I loved the view from our window, seeing so much of the lit up city. But now, I'm so sick of it. Why does it have to light up every night? Why does it have to be this big thing and a big party every night?
The city that never sleeps, could use a day off.
—
Charles came home from Abu Dhabi, and immediately started talking about the prize giving ceremony. He was going to wear the Ferrari suit, of course, but I needed to find a dress. Of course I took him with me to help me pick out my dress. It was his event, so I might as well let him have a say. He should have a say, but also, I didn't know what to go for.
As per usual, Ms. Dupont was where we went to get the dress. I tried on a lot of dresses and he liked every single one, but when I put one of them on, his jaw dropped. It was the reaction I wanted, and right then I knew it was the dress I was wearing.
It was a red dress with spaghetti straps, tight until it had passed my hips and it had a slit. It reminded me of the dress I wore to the first event I ever went to with Charles. But it had a second, really thin layer of mesh on top of the red material, which gave it a darker color. It came with a pair of mesh gloves in black, ending right above my elbow.
Charles loved it, and I felt good in it. I looked in the mirror, and I didn't think of any part that I wanted to change. I didn't let my mind go there. I rarely did anymore. It happened on occasion, if I had a bad day, but the little picture of mini me in the corner of our mirror, the one next to mini Charles, usually stopped me.
While Charles was off from racing, I spent as much time with him as possible. I went with him to Italy to watch him record a television ad. It was hilarious to watch him mess up, and try not to be too awkward. There was this dog there that I was close to stealing with me when they were done shooting.
While he went to Maranello for two days, even though I thought he'd be off work at least until after Christmas, I went to Bologna just to have two days to just look around. In those two days I fell in love with the city, especially how it looked at night. How it was so quiet, and it had such a warm light after nightfall. I felt so at home there after just a couple days.
I kept thinking about when Charles finally retires and he starts to settle down, and he's done with the constant traveling, maybe I could convince him to settle down in Bologna. Though, I doubt it. He loves Monaco too much to leave it.
We got to meet Charlotte, Lorenzo's new girlfriend, the day of the ceremony. I met her when Lorenzo knocked on my door to introduce her. They kept me company while I got ready, and she helped me fix my hair. Charles was already at the venue for some interviews, so I would meet him there. Which was when he first got to meet Charlotte.
She was as kind and sweet as she was gorgeous. I found myself being as excited about her presence as I was about the girlfriend he had when I was a kid. When I was a little girl looking up at his girlfriend who was so kind to me, it was almost like going back to that.
I've never felt so proud of Charles as I did when he walked across that stage to collect his prize. I filmed it and I sent it to everyone close to me. I smiled so bright and I stood up to see correctly.
He wasn't nearly as excited, considering he felt it was more of a consolation prize than anything else. I tried to get him to understand that he had done a good job, and he should be given a prize for that. He still came second out of 20 drivers.
He still hadn't liked it. He had to sit through the entire ceremony, watching montages of clips of where he fucked up and Red Bull succeeded. He watched other people win their prizes, and he even presented one, and then he had to wait until the very end until he got his and he could leave. I wished he would've acknowledged his own successes more, but it wasn't the world championship so I guess nothing helped.
We let the whole 2022 season go as soon as we walked out of there. But he didn't want to take a cab back to the hotel, so he gave me the jacket of his suit and we began walking towards the hotel. He said he wanted to see what I had been so interested in when walking through Bologna. So I could ignore that I was walking in heels because I got to see Bologna with Charles, sharing all the things I found so beautiful about it.
He held my hand and he swung it around. He told me that Mattia was resigning, which was why he had to go to Maranello. It wasn't surprising. There had been rumors about it for a long time, and I don't think I would want to stick around if people hated me that much either. They were talking about making Fred Vasseur the new team principal, who had been Charles' team principal before, when he just started out in F1.
"Combien de temps puis-je vous garder jusqu'à ce que vous deviez retourner au travail?" How long do I get to keep you before you go back to work? I asked.
"Il faut commencer tôt... mi-janvier," We have to start early... mid-january, he said.
I nodded, pretending not to be disappointed even though I knew why they had to start earlier. I just wished they didn't have to. But he still seemed to see my disappointment. He stopped walking, and he held on to my hand to make me stop as well. He placed me in front of him.
"Nous étions proches cette année... nous voulons nous rapprocher. J'ai vraiment besoin de me concentrer cette année," We were close this year...we want to get closer. I really need to focus this year, he explained, using his hand to move some hair out of my face.
"Je comprends," I understand, I replied. I truly did, but that didn't mean it was less hard to know he wouldn't be as present with me.
He was telling me he wasn't going to be home as much. If I did attend any races, I bet I wouldn't see him as much as I have recently. Maybe just before or after a race. He would be in Maranello, he would be training, having meetings and doing everything he could to improve. And believe me, I understand. But it just sucks to know that you have one month before I can't expect him to pay attention to me.
It's only fair. He does this for a championship like I moved to LA for my two championships. He stuck around and dealt with it like I now have to do the same for his career. It is only fair.
"Je sais à quel point tu veux ça et je veux que tu réussisses. Je comprends." I know how much you want this and I want you to succeed. I understand, I told him, going to adjust the collar on his dress shirt.
He grabbed the jacket he had given me, and he used it to pull me closer, keeping his lips right above mine. "Je suis tellement chanceux de vous avoir," I'm so lucky to have you.
I didn't get to reply before he kissed me, letting go of the jacket to hold onto my face instead. We didn't want to move away from that. So we stood there, talking, laughing, joking, in the middle of a random street in Bologna. It was cold, my feet hurt and I was tired, but still didn't want to leave that place with him.
—
For Christmas, our families rented cabins in Val-d'Isère. I stayed with my parents in their cabin so that I could actually spend some more time with them. I sleep next to Charles all the time anyway. Besides, the Leclerc's have always been great skiers, while I tend to stay out of the slopes.
My dad went with them a lot, so I stayed with Mom, and a lot of the time Pascale was there as well. Not that I understood half of the mom gossip they were spilling, but I just liked being there, in the warm cabin, not in the cold ass snow.
We had decided that we would do a version of secret santa and make it a little more fun. We got someone, and we would try to find the ugliest Christmas sweater for them. I had bought one for Lorenzo, and it surely wasn't pretty. It was really dorky.
One evening, two days before Christmas, I went to bake Christmas cookies while the others were chatting and catching up. Dad, Pascale and the brothers had all been out on the slopes that day, and I had gone on a walk with Mom. As I grow up more and more, I've noticed just how happy she gets by the smallest little insights in my life.
It's like I keep forgetting that she used to have two children, now she only has one. I'm the only one she has left, and she is going to hold on to me for dear life. She wants to see what I'm up to, to make sure I'm okay. She wants to be a part of my life, even though I've grown up.
So I told her everything, answered all her questions, and even told her about the talk Charles and I had about kids a few months earlier. She's supportive with everything I tell her, she's always been. She tells me I have time to have kids, and to not rush it. The same with marriage. She loves Charles of course, and I do still think she really wants me to marry him one day. If she can tell I'm not ready, she isn't going to push it.
When we got back, I laid in her lap with a book while she watched TV. I helped her with dinner and we wrapped the last gifts for Dad and the others and we put them under the tree to get the Christmas feeling to the very top. When Dad walked in that night, he was met with Mom and I standing in the living room, singing and dancing along to some throwback songs.
Of course he joined.
But when we had gone over for dinner, which was pizza at the Leclerc's cabin, I went back by myself. Lately I've really started to enjoy my own company, and sometimes I just like to have a few moments to myself. It's not because I'm sad, or mad, or overwhelmed, and I've made sure that Charles always knows that when I walk away.
Arthur got a bit worried though and he went after me when I hadn't come back in a while. He found me in the kitchen, cracking eggs into a bowl. I didn't mind that he came after me though, I hadn't really gotten the chance to spend a lot of time with him lately.
"Que fais-tu?" What are you doing? He asked.
"Biscuits de Noël," Christmas cookies, I replied with a smile. "Vas-tu m'aider?" Would you like to help me?
"Bien sûr," Sure, he replied.
I told him to stir the ingredients in the bowl, so he did. I prepared the oven and got some other ingredients out. I asked him about Carla, but he refused to ask me about Charles because he doesn't want to hear it. Whenever I would talk about Charles, he would look all uncomfortable and just nod.
"Est-ce que tu te sens bizarre pour Charles et moi tout d'un coup?" Do you feel weird about Charles and me all of a sudden? I asked.
I refuse to let something like that slide and then just keep brewing until there's a rift in Arthur and I's relationship because he won't tell me. I don't want him to be against Charles and I all of a sudden. He seemed so okay with it, and he always has.
"Non bien sûr que non," No of course not, he replied, but he kept his eyes down into the bowl. "Mais chaque fois que vous me parlez d'une dispute que vous avez eue ou de quelque chose qui pourrait ne pas aller, quoi que ce soit de négatif... Je ne peux m'empêcher de m'inquiéter." But every time you tell me about a fight you've had or something that might be wrong, anything negative...I can't help but worry.
My chest feels a little heavier as I stop every movement and look at him. He looks up from the bowl and presses his lips together.
"À propos de quoi?" About what?
"Qu'un jour tu trouveras la goutte d'eau qui fait déborder le vase et rompre les uns avec les autres," That one day you'll find the straw that broke the camel's back and break up with each other, he replied with a heavy sigh, leaning his palms on the counter as he looked at me. "Que nous arrive-t-il si vous le faites? Nous trois. Aux relations de nos familles. Que se passe-t-il si vous rompez et que vous ne vous supportez plus? Je ne veux pas que tout soit gâché." What happens to us if you do? Us three. To our families relationships. What happens if you break up and you just can't stand each other? I don't want everything to be ruined.
I can't say his worries are irrational. Well, to worry about us breaking up over a little argument or something we don't fully agree on is kind of irrational. But to worry about what would happen if we did is fully understandable, considering it was a big worry of mine in the beginning. I was so worried about losing my friendship with Charles in case it wouldn't work out, because we don't make it hard for just the two of us, but everyone around us.
"Charles et moi nous sommes promis que nous serions toujours les meilleurs amis," Charles and I promised each other that we would always be best friends, I told him.
"Promets-moi aussi. Si jamais vous rompez et que vous ne pouvez pas tenir une promesse l'un envers l'autre, alors tenez au moins votre promesse envers moi," Promise me too. If you ever break up and can't keep a promise to each other, then at least keep your promise to me, he replied quickly.
"D'accord, je promets," Okay, I promise, I replied with a nod. "Mais je préfère ne pas rompre du tout," But I'd rather not break up at all, I added with a chuckle.
"Je préférerais que tu ne le fasses pas," I'd rather you didn't, he replied.
–
On Christmas morning, the Leclerc's came to our cabin for our ugly sweater exchange so that we would have to wear them all day.
I watched Lorenzo unbox his sweater at the same time as Charles unboxed a mustard yellow shirt with a penguin on the front of it. It was truly hideous, but Charles laughed and seemed to love it. He immediately looked at my dad, as if he knew he had bought it. My dad gave him a look as if he didn't know what he was implying, but we all knew it was Dad.
I opened my own sweater and saw a bright red shirt with a white bigfoot on it, wearing a Santa hat and holding a bell that actually was a little bell on the shirt. I immediately looked at Arthur, but he didn't seem to recognize it as he wanted to look closer at it. I looked around the room and saw Pascale look very proud of herself.
We all put our new sweaters on and while our Moms went out to the kitchen to prepare Christmas breakfast, Lorenzo and Dad went to wrap the final gifts that hadn't been done. It's very on brand for my dad to do things like that last minute, and then getting someone else to help him solve his mess. Arthur sat down at the seemingly ages-old piano in the living room and he started playing something.
Charles and I laid down on the couch, listening to Arthur playing as we looked at the snow falling outside. Charles kissed the top of my head, and everything felt so much better in that moment alone than it had in the last six months.
–
For New Years we went with some of Charles' friends to Dubai. Well, he said that they're my friends too, but he's known them forever, and I've never really been around them enough to become their friends. Except for maybe Ricardo and Marta lately.
She was pretty far along, in her sixth month when we were there. She obviously couldn't drink, so I didn't either, except for champagne at midnight. Both so that she wouldn't feel alone in not drinking, but also because I feel better, and I have figured out that it's a lot easier for me to keep my mood up when I'm sober. So I tend to stay sober a lot more.
Charles got pretty tipsy with his friends, and on the boat we were on, Marta and I sat together with Hugo's girlfriend and just laughed about how the guys acted whenever they drank a little too much and got a little tipsy.
They ended up going for a swim, which was pretty cold considering it's the ocean in December.
Marta told us they had a name for the baby. Without thinking about it, they had started calling her baby C as her name was going to start with a C. Until March, her and I would almost share a nickname, and I had nothing against that. I was so excited to meet the little baby. I wish I was an aunt so that I could steal my nephews or nieces whenever I wanted.
When it got closer to midnight, Charles pulled me off the couch we had been sitting on. He hauled me up on his shoulders and threatened to throw me in the water while I squirmed in his grip, ordering Joris to get me out of there, but he was just there with his camera as per usual.
He did put me down, and he had a proud smile on his face as he laughed. His cheeks were a little red from intoxication, but he wasn't wasted. He held me tight by my waist, and he grabbed my right hand with one of his hands and he kissed the ring he had bought me. His friends were all focusing on something else by then, so he kissed me, and then the ring again as he swayed us back and forth. I laughed at how he didn't fully seem to know what he was doing.
"Tu êtes revenu un peu plus tôt que prévu, mais je compte quand même tenir ma promesse," You came back a little earlier than expected, but I still intend to keep my promise, he said as he looked at the ring still on my finger.
"Je sais, mais concentrez-vous sur Ferrari pour cette année, vous pourrez alors vous concentrer sur cette promesse," I know, but focus on Ferrari for this year, then you can focus on that promise, I said, smiling. He smiled even wider before kissing me.
They were counting down from ten, so we took our glasses with champagne, but he held on to me still. They finally reached zero, and the fireworks lit up the sky, but Charles didn't even bother looking at them, he just kept looking at me before kissing me.
After one hell of a winter break with him, you can guess how hard it was to be okay with the season preparations starting again.
//
I know! I know! I know you hate me after that first chapter of the book. But all I'm asking is that you give me some time to make it up to you. Just stick around and I will, lol I promise.