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mignonricciardo · 2 years

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surprise, surprise pt. 2 | cs55

this has been so long in the making but FINALLY here is part 2 to surprise, surprise. there will be a part 3 that is all about dad!carlos and will be coming much sooner than this part (I'm already working on it) :D this is legitimately 12k words omg

summary: now that carlos knows your pregnant, its time to navigate the paddock and a looming public announcement. did I forget to mention the crazy f1 schedule while being 6 months pregnant?

warnings: fluff, more fluff, extra fluff, cursing, allusions to sex, a wee bit cheeky, mentions of hospital

“Well,” Carlos sighs as he flops into the couch cushions, “the team knows. I just got off the call with Mattia and some others.”

“What did they say?” I ask him, leaning against the kitchen island as he rubs his face with his hands.

“A lot of congratulations,” he grins as he tips his head back to look at me. “Silvia already wants to get us a tiny Ferrari shirt.”

I can’t contain the grin that starts to spread on my face at the thought of the tiny tee, “What’d they say about racing and the schedule?”

“I told them about the timeline and that we’ll probably come short of the summer break,” he begins. “We discussed the logistics of missing a race. Mick or Antonio would fill in.”

“You’re not missing a race,” I shoot back at him just as he finishes his statement. “Based on everything I saw in Barcelona, you have a chance this year, love. A real chance.”

He chuckles as he runs his fingers through his hair, “As much as I love you fighting for me in this, the baby is going to make the decision for us, no?”

“Carlos,” I whisper, voice suddenly cracking as tears threaten to spill over my eyes.

He spins around suddenly, taking in my sudden emotions and stands from the couch to approach me. I dab my fingers underneath my eyes trying to stop the tears, and Carlos wraps his arms around me as they fall anyway. He laughs softly as I lean into him, sniffling against his shoulder.

“Pregnancy hormones?” he asks calmly, hands rubbing circles against my back.

I nod against him, fat tears landing on his shirt, “I just don’t want to mess this up for you. Every point matters.”

“Corazón, my family matters more to me than a championship,” he whispers as tears continue to fall. “Besides, we will figure it out when we get there. We have some time.”

“I’m just emotional,” I mumble, squeezing my arms around his waist. “Been thinking a lot.”

“I know,” he leaves a kiss on top of my head. “I’m always here to listen to you. Now, let’s get ready to have dinner with our parents. I don’t want them to see you have been crying.”

He smiles softly as he takes a step back, wiping the tears from beneath my eyes as I sniffle. I’m grateful for his small act, relishing in his touch before pulling myself together. We both walk toward the bedroom in our shared apartment, and Carlos freshens up while I change out of my leggings and t-shirt into a sundress and jacket. Carlos grins as I pull the t-shirt over my head, eyes watching as I tug the sundress over my curves. His fingers glide along the small of my back across to the front of my stomach, lingering over the barely there bump easily concealed beneath the fabric. I catch his grin in the mirror as he looks where his hand lingers. My fingers rest over his, and both of our eyes meet in the mirror with wide smiles. He kisses my cheek before pulling away, rounding up the rest of our stuff before locking the apartment and heading toward his car. We settle into the Alfa Romeo, Carlos shutting the door for me before climbing into the driver side. The drive toward the restaurant is easy with little traffic, and I pick at my nails nervously.

“It’s good you’re getting rid of the Golf,” I grin sheepishly at him. “We have to keep this for the baby.”

“They won’t ride in the new Ferrari?” he glances at me with a laugh.

I shake my head, “Think you can add to the customization and include a car seat?”

He shakes his head this time, laughter shaking his shoulders, “It’s crazy that we’re talking about car seats right now.”

I agree with him, falling silent as I pick at my nails. He notices my silence, reaching across the console to hold my hand with his. Our entwined hands rest in my lap, his knuckles brushing against my hip, and his thumb rubs gently against the back of my hand. Music fills the stretching silence before I speak with my eyes focused on our hands.

“Are you nervous?”

Carlos is quiet for a moment before he admits anything, “A little. I’m nervous to look your dad in the eye now.”

I laugh at his comment, rubbing my fingers across the back of his hand as some of my nerves fizzle with his joke, “You can’t be serious, Carlos. He’s going to want a hug from you. The man adores being a grandpa.”

“Corazón, I can’t hug him now that he knows we had sex,” his voice is serious as he glances at me.

I laugh wildly at his comment and red cheeks, feeling tears in the corner of my eyes, “Babe, I’m 27 and we’ve been together for years. He doesn’t live underneath a rock!”

He laughs gently at my reaction, squeezing my hand again for a sense of comfort, “It’s just a lot we’re about to tell them with the baby and the contract extension. I’m nervous about all of it.”

“I am, too,” I assure him. “We’ve got each other, though. We can do this.”

The restaurant is bustling, and Carlos and I hold on to each other’s hands with an iron grip as the hostess leads us to our table. Nausea grips me as our parents stand to greet us, pulling us both in for hugs all around the table. Carlos reluctantly lets go of my hand in the flurry of embraces, but he pulls my chair out for me before he settles at the table. In the spot next to me, he reaches for my hand beneath the table. Easy conversation passes around the table, and while I try to hide my nerves, the nausea continues rolling in my stomach. My mom notices my demeanor, and she checks in on me to make sure that I’m okay. I nod my head, assuring her I am fine, but she notices the way I pick at the meal in front of me. When a lull in the conversation appears, Carlos grips my hand with a squeeze and glances at me. His raised eyebrows ask if I’m ready, and our parents watch as I nod my head at him.

“Thank you for meeting us today,” Carlos begins, motioning toward my parents. “Especially you two for taking time out of your vacation to come. There’s a couple things we want to tell you.”

“You got the contract?” my dad blurts out with a beaming smile.

My mother scolds him for his intrusion, but Carlos nods with a wide smile.

“I’m locked in with Ferrari through 2024,” Carlos grins as the table erupts in cheers.

All four of our parents congratulate him with his dad clapping him on the shoulder. My mom leans into Mrs. Sainz, and the pair laugh as my mom congratulates Carlos. I press into Carlos’ side, his arm keeping me up as I lean into him. His presence is grounding as the scene of congratulations unfolds before us. He smiles gently as another lull in the conversation appears.

“The contract extension isn’t the only news we wanted to share,” Carlos begins, glancing at me briefly as he squeezes my hand.

Our parents hang on to our silence for a moment, looking at the two of us intently as if we we’re the only table in the restaurant.

“Before you ask, we’ve figured out a plan,” I say, feeling my nerves leave bile crawling up my throat. “We’re not going to risk the news of the extension or the coming season.”

This time Carlos looks directly into my gaze, a gentle smile across his face and warmth in his eyes. His look encourages me, and the squeeze of my hand beneath his pushes me forward. I set the two small boxes down--one in front of each of our moms--and wait for them to open them. My mom gasps first when she sees the pregnancy test nestled in the box, positive reading clear as day. Carlos’ mom bursts into tears, looking at me and her son with a wide smile as she asks if it's true.

“I’m pregnant,” I say, nodding gently before turning to Carlos with a smile. “Just past four months.”

Our mothers each gasp excitedly, clutching each others’ hands as they look at the two of us. Our dads stare with a shocked expression, jaws slack and eyes wide. I grip Carlos’ hand like a lifeline, feeling waves of nausea underneath the stare of our parents. He chuckles nervously as he squeezes my hand, “It’s a surprise, no?”

It’s my mom’s turn to let out a choked shriek as she stands to hug me tightly. Tears from her cheeks land on my shoulder as she embraces me tightly. She turns to Carlos to hug him as his mother follows suit. Our fathers follow, clapping each other on the back before embracing us. I catch my dad hugging Carlos with a broad grin, excited eyes gleaming in the warm light of the restaurant.

“An accident?” my father asks, a sly grin on his face despite the happy tears in his eyes.

“Uhm, yes sir,” Carlos clears his throat nervously. “I have nothing but the best intentions, and I’m never going to leave her side.”

My mom laughs wildly, “Love, quit scaring him! Carlos, honey, we adore you.”

My dad chuckles at Carlos’ stifled reaction, “I don’t doubt your intentions with my daughter, but if you ever hurt her, consider your racing career gone.”

The table erupts with laughter, and the nausea ebbs as everyone begins asking questions about anything and everything. Once we’ve finally exhausted our reservation, hugs and cheers are passed around the group in the parking lot. Carlos opens the door to his Alfa Romeo for me, making sure I’m situated before he shuts it behind me. The ride back to his apartment is easy, and the atmosphere inside the car is much lighter than the previous drive. I sneak glances at him while he drives, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on my leg. A relaxed smile graces his features, and his brown eyes crinkle around the edges. I can’t help but kiss him at a red light, already planning a long night ahead of us, and he smirks knowingly.

The start of the season is a whirlwind, full of all kinds of changes. I start traveling to nearly every race with Carlos, opting to work remotely as much as possible with my growing bump, and he makes excuses as to why I’m at grand prix weekends more frequently. We decide to hold off on an official announcement, only sharing information with our closest family and friends and those who need to know on the team. When my bump really starts to show, my wardrobe shifts to a rotation of shapeless dresses and a combination of cardigans, jean jackets, and unbuttoned linen shirts. The flowing material helps to conceal our ever-approaching secret. I pull a similar outfit on, grinning as I wear one of Carlos’ favorite sundresses, before heading to the Ferrari-crazed paddock in Imola.

“So,” Charlotte grins with her arm looped through mine. “A little birdie tells me something.”

The Ferrari hospitality suite is nearly empty as mechanics, engineers and drivers take to the garage to prepare for the sprint race during their home race weekend. My eyebrows are raised at her comment, nerves settling in my stomach as she glances around before looking at me again.

“Before you get mad at him, I could tell Charles was hiding something. He was acting weird when I asked him about bringing you and Carlos out to the vineyard,” she begins, voice quiet as she speaks. “I practically forced it out of him. Congratulations!”

I laugh at her preface, imagining the look on Charles’ face when his girlfriend all but cornered him into revealing the secret, “Well, since you’ve got it out of him, thank you! You haven’t told anyone else, have you?”

She shakes her head “And betray your trust? Never. Us Ferarri girls have to stick together. Someone has to keep those drivers in check.”

I laugh again at her comment, knowing the truth about the two boys all too well, “I appreciate it, Charlotte. We’re trying to keep it a secret for as long as possible to extend our privacy. I don’t know how much longer it will last.”

“When are you due?” she asks with genuine interest.

“I’m hoping I make it to the very end of July,” I begin, fingers mindlessly resting on my growing bump. “I don’t think we’ll be lucky enough to make it to the summer break, though. Mattia’s doing extra work with Antonio and Mick in case I go early.”

“Your six months already!” she gasps, looking at where my hands rest on my abdomen. “I never would have guessed!”

I laugh at her reaction, “The sundresses and jackets help hide it, but I don’t know much longer I can do that. I think some fans already have some ideas. I’ve been to every race weekend since the season started wearing variations of the same outfit every day in the paddock. It’s a little suspicious, no?”

“Well, whenever you decide to announce it more publicly, I’ve got your back,” Charlotte grins, looping her arm through mine again. “Is your family planning you a baby shower?”

“I’ve asked them not to,” I have to yell over the roars of the crowd in red. “It’s just too hard with the race schedule and having everyone travel.”

Charlotte frowns as she looks at me, “You’re not going to do a baby shower?”

I shake my head, “It’s a lot for everyone to try to plan, and I’m forcing Carlos to focus on racing as much as possible. I already feel guilty for making him potentially miss a race.”

As she is about to answer, my face contorts into a strange expression as I feel movement. My hands press against my abdomen, feeling another swift bump, and Charlotte looks at me with concern in her features. Her eyebrows are furrowed as she asks me what’s wrong. Without an answer, I grab her hand and place it where mine had just been. With another bump, softer than the first, her eyes go wide as a smile spreads on my face.

“Did you feel that?” I ask her. “She’s never done that before. Little things only I could feel, but nothing like this.”

She nods her head wildly, “Oh my god, did you say she?”

I laugh, still holding both of our hands to my ever-protruding stomach, “We don’t know for sure yet, but I think it’s a girl. Carlos thinks it’s a boy. We want to wait a little bit longer, but our moms know. They were adamant so they could start buying stuff.”

The baby kicks gently again, and Charlotte’s mouth is open in awe, “We need to be in the garage when the sprint race ends. You have to tell him right away.”

“As long as there are no photographers around besides team staff,” I smile gently.

As we walk back toward the garage, listening to the buzz of cars through the paddock, Charlotte grins cheekily, “I can’t believe one of her aunts felt her kick before her own dad.”

I laugh loudly at her comment, drawing attention of other guests passing by as they attempt to focus on the cars whizzing by, “Charles will be jealous of you, too. He’s secretly so excited. He accidentally told Carlos that.”

We stand in the garage, luckily situated behind other onlookers because I can’t find it within myself to pull my hands away from my stomach. Charlotte stands close next to me, angling herself so that if the cameras cut toward us they only catch a glimpse of my face. I quietly thank her, and she nods as she links her arm through mine. Engineers cheer when the cars arrive back into the garage, and I grin as Carlos and Charles walk back into the garage. Carlos’ hair is wild, standing up in dark tufts as sweat drips from his hairline, and his overalls hang open where he has unzipped them on his chest. I feel as if I’m going to start drooling as I take in his tanned skin complimented by the red of his suit. Charlotte elbows me with a chuckle at my ogling. After congratulations from their engineers and Mattia, the two drivers walk toward us. I throw my arms around his neck, grinning as I mutter a congratulations near his ear. His arms wrap tightly around my waist, and I’m sure a camera somewhere has picked up on our lovefest.

His driver’s room is fairly pristine, and when he enters the door, I’m sitting on the couch grinning like an idiot. His eyebrows are raised when he sees me, and I blurt out just as he’s shutting the door behind him.

“The baby kicked today!” I grin widely. “Even Charlotte felt it.”

He rushes toward me, hands reaching for my stomach before he looks at me with a confused look, “Charlotte?”

“You really thought Charles wouldn’t tell her,” I chastise him, laughing as he smiles.

“He kicked?” Carlos looks at my stomach in awe, hands rubbing across the fabric of my dress.

“She did,” I smile, hands resting over his as he laughs at my comment back.

“He’s practicing braking,” he grins, eyes looking up at me as he leans in for a slow kiss.

“Mm, whatever you say,” I chuckle against his lips, relishing in his touch.

The race on Sunday ends prematurely with Carlos beached in the gravel. My heart sinks, and I can’t help the tears pricking at my eyes. Charlotte never leaves my side as we wait for Carlos to make his way back to the garage, and she once again shields me from prying eyes and cameras. Her hand squeezes mine as I sniffle, and despite the funny looks from other people around us, she never questions my reaction as she knows about the hormones coursing through me. I whisper a quiet thank you, and her hand squeezes mine as she never tears her eyes away from the screen following Charles’ car. When Carlos walks into the garage, his helmet is still on, and the sign that he doesn’t want to talk makes me even more upset. Engineers clap him on the back, and he only pulls his helmet off to speak to Mattia at the pit wall. I watch him closely, feeling sadness roll through me as frustration radiates from him. I hug him tightly when he approaches and kiss his cheek before he heads to his driver’s room to prepare for the media pen.

The race doesn’t end well for Charles, either, and I am there to support Charlotte as we wait for him to make it back to the garage. Back sitting in hospitality, waiting for the boys to return from their debriefs and thanking the team, Charlotte and I scroll on our phones. She nudges me gently with her elbow, holding her phone screen out to me.

“Don’t freak out,” she whispers as I take the phone from her hand.

There are pictures of me and Carlos walking into the paddock, hands held between us as we laugh at something one of us had said. I scroll to the third image, eyes going wide as I see where the wind blew the fabric of my dress taught, revealing my stomach beneath the flowing fabric. My fingers swipe away from the images, reading the caption on the tweet.

Are y’all seeing what im seeing

Omg bri no way you just said that

Im just repeating what kym illman said he knows all about wags

Baby 🌶

You said it not me

Nausea grips me as I read more replies before turning to Charlotte, “Do you think there’s more?”

She takes the phone from me, scrolling through more, “Word must travel fast. There’s more speculation from fans and some other people. There’s people pretty involved in the online communities who have some credibility wondering, too.”

I groan as I toss my head back against the couch, “This has to be a joke.”

I pull my own phone out, scrolling through posts on different platforms to see what people are saying. Word must spread like wildfire, or paranoia grips me deeply, because the longer we sit on the couch, the more I feel like people’s eyes are on me as they pass. Charlotte looks around, too, playing the role of protective sister if someone’s eyes linger for a moment too long or their whispers follow their stares. My phone lights up with a text from Carlos that makes my nausea roll even deeper. The baby kicks in response.

Where are you right now?

Charlotte responds for me as my fingers shake too much as they hover over the keyboard.

Hospitality with Charlotte we’re just waiting for you guys to finish

His response comes almost immediately.

I just got out of an interview where they asked me a weird question and Silvia showed me some stuff after. Are you okay?

“Oh my god,” my voice warbles as my head spins, and panic grips me as it rises up my throat. “Please call him.”

Charlotte quickly hits the button on his name, and he picks up after only two rings. She begins speaking before he even has time to say hello.

“It’s Charlotte. We’re on a couch in hospitality. Can you get here?” she looks at me worriedly as she continues speaking. “We saw stuff on social media, too, and she’s freaking out. I’m scared she’s going to be sick.”

I can hear his voice on the line, and suddenly she is putting my phone back in my hands and guiding it to my ear.

“Corazón?” his voice is calming as he says the name I had grown so accustomed to hearing from his lips.

My breath is shaky and shallow when I answer, “What did they ask you?”

He pauses, and my panicked voice sounds angry as I gasp for air, “Carlos Sainz, don’t you dare hesitate.”

“They asked me if you were expecting,” he whispers, and I hear shuffling on the other end as his pace picks up down the paddock. “I had no idea where that had even come from, and then Silvia showed me the stuff on social media.”

My heart feels like it's beating out of my chest, and I can feel the baby doing what I assume are somersaults, “Are you almost here? I feel like I’m going to be sick.”

“I’m on the way. Just-” I can hear commotion on the other end, and he apologizes to someone for not stopping. “I’m almost there. Take a deep breath.”

“How did you answer?” my chest heaves for air. “The interview. What did you say?”

“I laughed and told them it was news to me,” his voice is quicker than his usual timbre as he moves through the paddock. “It absolutely shocked me, but I hid it.”

“What if they know you’re lying?” my thoughts continue spiraling, and Charlotte’s eyes go wide as she tries to calm me down.

“Don’t worry about it, corazón,” he mutters another apology to someone. “They can say whatever they want about me. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I can’t make it back to your motorhome,” I start, eyes blurring with tears. “They’ll take pictures and-”

“Breathe, just breathe,” his voice brings me back to reality. “I’m almost there.”

When Carlos finally does come through the hospitality doors, he draws some attention as his head cranes looking for us. He catches sight of me, and his eyes never leave mine as he approaches. Charlotte fills him in quietly, trying to avoid drawing any eyes to us. His arms wrap around me as she speaks to him, strong arms settling beneath mine that hang around his neck. I squeeze his shoulders, finding comfort in the warmth of his skin against mine and the resistance his shoulders have as they press into my forearms. His embrace has a grounding effect, and when he pulls away, he nods his head to something Charlotte had said before helping me to my feet.

“We’ll make it to the motorhome,” he whispers, eyes never leaving my gaze. “Trust me. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

I nod slowly, and he thanks Charlotte before holding my hand in his. We weave through the paddock, working our way behind team buildings and gates rather than through the traditional walkway. I feel like my heart is going to burst from my chest, and my lungs burn as Carlos opens the door to his motorhome, ushering me inside quickly. After nearly an hour, the panic finally passes. I’m sprawled on the bed in Carlos’ motorhome, back aching and head throbbing. It feels like my lungs are still searching for air. Charlotte checks in twice, bringing Charles by to let the two drivers commiserate over their poor home race for the Scuderia. Carlos only leaves my side to grab another water for both of us. Our phones lay on the other side of the room, turned to do not disturb after I screamed about the incessant buzzing. The mattress dips beneath me as his weight shifts, and I find comfort in his hand that works at the tension at the base of my neck. The room is quiet, and he waits for me to break the silence.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper quietly, voice barely audible over the motorhome air conditioning.

“There’s no need to be sorry,” he responds, fingers working through my hair. “Are you feeling better?”

I nod my head, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers rub my head and gently sweep through my hair, “Better than I was. It’s a little hard to tell what is from the panic and what is from being pregnant.”

He chuckles gently, lips pressing to my forehead, “I was scared when Charlotte answered. First, I was terrified something happened to you. Then, I was worried it was the baby.”

His free hand rests gently on top of my stomach, and I look up at his face to watch his expression. His eyes are soft around the corners and his gaze gentle as he looks at my swollen abdomen. Brown eyes are wide as he stares, and his eyebrows are relaxed. Pink lips part ever so slightly. It’s a look of love so obvious he may as well have it written across his forehead. One of my hands rests on top of his, and I smile as our fingers overlap.

“Should we just announce it?” my voice is quiet, fingers twiddling with his against my stomach. “Do we get ahead of it?”

“Is that what you want to do?” his voice is quiet, touch reassuring as his other hand melts the tension in my neck.

“Well, we’re getting to a point where I can’t exactly hide it anymore. I think it’s only a matter of time before it's clearly a baby bump no matter what I’m wearing,” I lean my head against his shoulder, relishing in the warmth radiating from his body.

“I can call Checo,” Carlos says, reaching for his phone with outstretched fingers as his hand falls away from stomach. “He’s done this before, and he won’t steer us wrong.”

I laugh at the idea of Carlos calling Checo, searching for his advice on how to handle this, but I am treated when Carlos does call the other driver. He places his hand back on my bump as he chatters away with the other driver, indulging in their native tongue in a rare occurrence off the grid. I listen in on their conversation, catching every word rolling off Carlos’ tongue. He thanks Checo after he tells him about our situation which the Mexican driver surely congratulates him for. Carlos congratulates his fellow driver on the looming arrival of his own child. When he hangs up, Carlos leans back into the pillows against the headboard.

“He said it's completely up to us. The way they did it was his wife announced it,” Carlos’ voice is quiet, dark eyes holding my gaze. “He posted it a few days later once the news set in.”

I nod my head, “I still want some more time of just us to be able to process everything, but I have the pictures from Melbourne. I guess if we’re going to do it, those are the pictures to use. They are pretty cute.”

“Are you sure about this?” his voice is gentle as he leans in to kiss my forehead. “I want this to be your decision, not influenced by everything going on.”

I nod my head, laughing gently as I lean into him, “I’m sure, love. Plus, everyone will be so excited that they can talk about it now. Silvia can finally show off the t-shirt.”

He laughs along with me, capturing my lips this time before pulling away, “You just tell me when you’re ready, and I’m behind you.”

Once the chatter of the home race had slowed, and the speculation around me lost a bit of steam as no additional pictures had come out, Carlos and I have a bit of time at his apartment in Italy. It feels like pregnancy kicks into high gear as I transition from 25 to 26 weeks, and suddenly everything seems to change overnight. After a lengthy phone call with Marie and Carmen, and even some input from my mother over Carmen’s line, I am waiting for Carlos in the kitchen to return from his training session. He drops his bag by the front door, grinning as his eyes meet mine in the well-lit kitchen. I can’t bring myself to look away from him with his damp, dark hair and tan skin. His biceps strain against his t-shirt sleeves, and his chest pulls the fabric taut around him. He chuckles at my ogling, and I struggle to keep myself from launching myself at him and having him take me on the kitchen counter.

“You’re staring,” he chuckles, leaning in to kiss me as his arms wrap around my waist.

I use all of my willpower to eventually break away, “Let me get this out before I literally beg you to throw me on to the bed.”

He laughs wildly at my comment, nodding his head for me to continue. He watches me with a dopey smile across his face, unable to wipe the grin from his lips. I hand him my phone, showing him the drafted Instagram post. He smiles fondly at the picture, a shot of us in Melbourne at a family friend’s ranch. We are wearing simple clothes, unaware of the picture his sister was taking, and laughing as both pairs of our hands rest on my stomach. Without the flowing dresses, the bump was obvious in the tank top I had on. Carlos is tagged in the image, and he laughs as he reads the caption.

Future F1 driver in the making🏎🏁

“You approve?” I laugh, and he nods his head.

Before I can take the phone back from him, he hits post on the draft, letting the information reach whatever corner of the internet it was destined for, and he turns my phone to do not disturb. I scold him for hitting publish without my approval, but my annoyance quickly falls away when I see the look in his eye. He sets the phone on the counter before placing his hands back on my body, sliding from the small of my back past my bum to rest on the back of my thighs.

“Now, where were we?”

Messages of congratulations roll in for nearly a week, picking up when Carlos reposts our picture followed by Ferrari and then F1 official accounts. It seems everyone has a bit of baby fever going around, and we are only fueling the fire. Once it has been announced, it feels like things begin happening at rapid speed. The baby starts practicing her braking at all hours of the night, forcing Carlos to stay up with me when he should be prepping for another race weekend as what should have been temporary nausea turns into a daily occurence. My skin clears up with that signature pregnancy glow, but my back and feet begin aching frequently. Carlos becomes even more protective than he had been before the public announcement, leaving a hand on my back or waist any time we are out or holding my hand in his through the paddock. People in polos from every team up and down the grid pat him on the back or wish me luck with a soft smile as we stroll through the paddock. I secretly relish in his attention, cheeks glowing and heart pounding any time his skin comes into contact with mine.

Arriving back in Spain for his home race is particularly special as his family is planning to attend the race. He has a sold-out grandstand at the track, and Barcelona is already full of Ferrari logos by the time we arrive. In his sister’s hotel room, I lean my hips against the counter to get closer to the mirror as I apply makeup. Ana laughs as I get frustrated with my now seven-month stomach getting in the way, and I yell at Carlos in the other room--blaming him for my predicament--which he and his brother-in-law respond to with laughs. Once I’ve given up on trying to finish my makeup, I sit on the couch, and Carlos slips my sandals onto my swollen feet for me. He kisses my forehead as he stands, and I whisper a quiet thank you as he helps me to my feet.

“Are you sure this dress is okay?” I ask Ana, smoothing around the material across my stomach. “This place is fancy that Charlotte picked.”

Ana nods her head, smiling as her brother wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder, “You look great, I promise. Plus, he can’t stop staring at you so I’d say it works.”

We all laugh as Carlos tries to defend himself, but Ana’s husband ushers us out the door to avoid being late. The Barcelona sun is hot on my back as Carlos helps me into the passenger seat of his Ferrari for the weekend, and Ana snickers as she watches me try to maneuver my way into the low seat. Getting out of the car is even worse, and Carlos has to practically pull me from the leather seat onto my feet. The valet watches with amusement. Ana gives Charlotte’s name to the hostess for the reservation, and she smiles warmly as she leads us on a winding path through the crowded restaurant. Carlos’ hand never leaves its protective place on the small of my back. She stops in front of an entry way, and just as I’m about to ask if we’ve taken a wrong turn, she opens the door and tears prick at my eyes.

“Surprise!”

The room is full of our families and some of our closest friends, and they’re all cheering with smiles on their faces. The room is bursting with faces from the grid, and they hold gift bags and wrapped boxes in their hands. Tears start immediately down my cheeks, and Charlotte laughs as she approaches me with her arms outspread.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry,” she wraps her arms around me.

“Did you do this?” I ask her, attempting to wipe my tears as she pulls away from me.

She nods with a grin, “Ana, Marie and Carmen helped, and so did your mums. It was my idea, but I found a way to contact all of them.”

A fresh round of tears start as I hug her again, “What would I do without you around all the time?”

She sends me on my way to make my rounds, and tears continue sporadically as I hug more and more of my closest friends and family. Carlos works his way through the room, and once we’ve thanked everyone for coming, Charlotte directs us to our seats at the head of the table. The room laughs as I let out another cry when he pulls my chair out for me, and I quickly blame the hormones. He sits closely next to me, our arms brushing as we eat the food that is brought out. Conversation flows around the room easily, and I’m sat in my brother’s chair as he chats to Carlos while I speak to Marie. I laugh as Carlos holds my niece, putting the toddler up on his shoulders so she can look at the decorations more closely.

“He’s going to be such a good dad,” Marie comments, nodding her head at her daughter and Carlos. “He’s a natural already.”

“It’s funny,” I grin. “That’s what started it. Over Christmas in Mallorca, and he was holding her. You totally caught us talking about having sex later that night.” She laughs loudly, hand covering her mouth and eyes watering, “You’re right! I warned you, too! Little did we know.”

I laugh along with her, “Well, it makes sense why I wanted him so badly.”

“It’s crazy, no?” she asks, both of us watching Carlos with my niece. “It was like every part of you knew except your brain.”

“God, everything else sure knew,” I groan. “I can’t keep my hands off of him. It’s only gotten worse.”

“I told you that would happen!” Marie laughs, drawing the attention of our doting partners.

“What would happen?” my brother asks, taking a step toward us.

“Nothing, Steven,” I quickly cut him off. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s something, mi amor,” Carlos uses the nickname that makes my legs turn to jelly, and I know I’m done for as his words replay in my mind.

“Steven, you really don’t want to know,” Marie warns, but my nosy brother shakes his head as he takes Charlotte back from Carlos’ arms.

“Fine,” I huff, looking at the two men with a sickly sweet smile, “your lovely wife was telling me how she couldn’t keep her hands off you while she was pregnant.”

He smirks cockily, “That may or may not be true.”

“Well, I was agreeing with her,” I state, face remaining stoic as I deadpan the information to my brother. “I literally could go all day and night when I’m around him. I need access like 20 hours a day.”

Marie laughs wildly as the two men stare at us, jaws slack and ears turning red. Carlos covers Charlotte’s ears with his hands while Steven shakes his head in shock at what I just said. At one point, Steven looks at Carlos and whispers a heated dude that’s my sister. He just shrugs in response before the two turn their attention toward their significant others.

“There’s little kids around!” Carlos gasps despite the glint in his eyes, and he points at my abdomen. “He doesn’t need to know about sex already.”

“Well, she will learn where she came from at some point,” I shoot back, smiling as our eyes meet in another contest about the baby.

My brother groans at our shameless flirting, and Marie smacks his arm playfully. He smiles down at her, lost in their own little world as Carlos and I make eyes at each other. Marie’s voice breaks our moment as she turns to me.

“Speaking of the baby,” her voice trails off, a mischievous glint in her eye. “You don’t have to say yes, but your mums made something for you as a gender reveal. They know you wanted it to be a surprise, but they thought you’d maybe want to find out and finally put an end to your bickering over it.”

“They haven’t already told you?” Carlos laughs. “I thought they would’ve spoiled it by now.”

Marie shakes her head, leaning into my brother as he hands Charlotte to her, “They struggled to keep it to themselves, but they listened to you. I have no idea what you’re having. I think it’s a girl, but that’s just my gut feeling.”

“I’m with Carlos,” Steven grins. “Us guys have to stick together.”

“Weren’t you just bitching at him for sleeping with your sister?” Marie glares at him.

Carlos and I both laugh as my brother tries to defend himself, “I’ve still got his back!”

“So, are you ready to find out who’s right?” I grin at Carlos.

My brother and sister-in-law watch us closely, elbowing each other at the way Carlos’ hands rest on my hips as I stand. We miss it, but Steven flashes Marie his wedding band with raised eyebrows. She grins as she nods her head wildly behind us, and my brother smiles before turning back to watch us.

Carlos raises his eyebrows, “I’m always right.”

“You’ll regret that one,” Steven mutters, and we all break into laughter as Marie smacks his arm playfully.

After talking to our mums, they announce to the room about the cake they prepared for this. At the head of the table, I stare at the cake in front of us. It’s Carlos’ favorite sponge cake that my mum always gets when we visit them. Thin white icing covers the sides of the cake, and petite pink and blue stars dot the pristine icing. He picks up the knife, placing it in my hand before wrapping his larger hand around mine. He raises his eyebrows as if to ask if I’m ready, and with a gentle nod, we press into the cake.

Pink.

The inside of the cake is pale pink, and before I can even process anything, Carlos is wrapping his arms around my waist and laughing wildly. He picks me up so my feet dangle off the ground for a moment, grinning and leaving kisses on my cheeks as I laugh with him. The room cheers, and hugs are shared between our family and friends. I can hear some gloating about how they were right, and my heart melts as our mums hug each other giddily, laughing with our fathers and one other.

“You were right,” he grins, voice in my ear as he places me back down. “I can’t believe we’re having a girl.”

His hands suddenly come to my face, wiping away tears I can’t stop from coming. He chuckles quietly, pads of his fingers gently gliding across my cheeks. I smile widely despite the gasp for air that comes from me. I notice the shine in his eyes of unshed tears, and it feels like my heart is going to burst from my chest.

“I’m sorry I can’t stop crying,” I laugh through hysterical hiccups. “I’m just so happy.”

He hugs me again, arms pulling me into him. My face presses against his chest, and his gentle laughter vibrates against my cheek. Tears stain his t-shirt, and I catch Marie snapping pictures of the ordeal. Reluctantly, he lets me go so he can finish cutting the cake for our guests, but his body never strays too far from mine. We begin opening the presents slowly, only after we both scolded everyone for buying us gifts, and the pile next to us starts to grow with baby supplies. Marie never stops snapping pictures on her phone. I find myself bursting into tears at a few gifts, exclaiming how cute they are to a room chuckling at my emotional reactions. Lando puts a box in front of us, grinning as Carlos eyes him suspiciously.

“Before you say anything,” the young driver starts with an ornery smile. “This is to remind her of her British roots. Her mum’s British after all. What kind of uncle would I be if I let her forget that?”

Carlos laughs when I pull a British Jack onesie out of the box, followed by a McLaren papaya orange blanket. We each laugh at the gifts, and Carlos pulls Lando in for a hug that he then extends to me.

“No Ferrari?” I laugh with the driver.

“I think orange will look much better on her than red, especially when she’s cheering for her uncle,” Lando nods, dodging a playful punch from Carlos.

Fittingly, Silvia’s gift materializes not long after Lando’s, and Carlos smiles proudly at the red onesie with the prancing horse on the front. Once we’ve gone through the gifts, Carlos’ mother volunteers their car to carry the load, and his father promises he’ll take everything back to Madrid for us. I thank them through teary sniffles, and Carlos chuckles as his parents hug me tightly. People from the grid congratulate Carlos again as they leave, and some of the drivers make passing jokes as Carlos claps them on the back. Once the whirlwind day is over, and we’ve returned to his motorhome, Carlos starts a warm shower for me before following me into the walk-in. I laugh as he does, catching the giant grin on his face as he shuts the sliding glass door. He is nothing but caring, though--fingers working shampoo and conditioner through my hair before sinking into the knots in my shoulders and back.

“We’re lucky, yeah?” I say, eyes meeting his as he rinses conditioner out of my hair.

He nods his head gently, slight smile gracing his lips, “We’re so lucky, and we’re loved. She’ll be loved by so many.”

His words settle deep in my chest, and my heart feels like it might burst through my skin as warmth envelopes me. He looks at me with a slight quirk in his eyebrows at my silence, and I take a deep breath before chuckling weakly.

“Please don’t make me cry again,” I say with a laugh. “I’ve been crying all day and don’t know how much I have left in me.”

He laughs as he kisses my forehead, fingers rubbing up and down my back, “I’m sorry, corazón. I’m just feeling a little sentimental. I just feel so lucky right now.”

My lips meet his gently, a chaste kiss that turns passionate as all of the emotions of the day pour out between us, spilling onto the floor and into the air like the hot water and vapor from the showerhead. We both laugh as we fumble toward the bed, lips parting in joint laughter as my stomach proves tricky to maneuver around. I nearly choke on laughter as Carlos stands at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips as he looks down at me incredulously, scanning the situation and looking for any solution. His skin is still tinged red in spots from the hot shower, and his hair drips down his neck and rolls in between his shoulders. He watches me with furrowed brows as I reach for the u-shaped pillow, adjusting around it to try to answer his dilemma. He laughs at me loudly, and I turn to him with a grin.

“What are you waiting for?”

It’s full of laughter and fumbling as he maneuvers my body, reaching around the large pillow or my bump. By the time we finish, breathless from pleasure and laughter, one of his arms stays settled loosely at my hip and the other twirls pieces of my hair.

“Aren’t you happy I brought the pillow now?” I grin, turning my face to glance at him over my shoulder.

He chuckles as he leaves a chaste kiss against my bare shoulder, “I won’t talk bad about it again, corazón.”

I thought I was big in Canada, waddling through the paddock and hands bracing against my lower back, but Silverstone is an entirely different story. Once I’ve scanned my pass, nearly getting stuck trying to maneuver my way through the turnstile, Carlos forces me to stand and wait with his physio while he jogs off to grab a golf cart from hospitality. Charlotte approaches me with a broad smile, Charles following behind making a cheeky comment about the size of my stomach since he last saw me. She hugs me as best she can, mainly her arms resting on my shoulders.

“How are you feeling about your last race before she’s here?”

Charles looks from his girlfriend to me with a bewildered look, “You’re not coming to the rest of the races?”

“She can’t travel anymore, silly,” Charlotte elbows her clueless boyfriend. “So you’ll have to talk sweet to Carlos in the garage now since she won’t be here.”

“You’re sure you can’t come to any more races for a while?” the Ferrari driver laughs.

I nod my head, hands resting on my stomach, “Going to be busy for a bit, Charles. We’ve been staying with my parents down in Oxford to spend some time together before they go to Madrid with me. Bed rest after this weekend until she’s here. I’m not allowed to travel anymore.”

Carlos whizzes to a stop in front of us, golf cart lurching forward as he presses on the brakes, “The rest of you can pile in the back if you want a ride. The front is reserved for precious cargo.”

I roll my eyes at his comment, and Charles and Carlos’ physio scoff at his comment. The two make comments about how whipped he is, but they climb into the back of the cart nevertheless. Charles pulls Charlotte with him as Carlos helps me into the seat next to me, grasping my hand tightly as I settle into the seat. He peels off down the asphalt once we’re all settled, taking us toward the Ferrari hospitality. My parents are waiting there for us, grinning widely as they watch Carlos help from my seat. My dad makes the comment that his eyes are wide like a kid in a candy store every time he looks at me, and my mom just grins in response, nodding wildly as we come into the suite and greet them. My dad congratulates Carlos on his first pole position for what feels like the thousandth time, and our chatter ping pongs between the looming race and the baby. Eventually, we make our way to the garage after Carlos left to meet with engineers and his physio. I settle in a chair the team prepared for me on his side of the garage with each of my parents standing behind my shoulder. My nerves never settle--not through the formation lap, the opening lap, the red flag, the restart. They fester deep within me, manifesting as fingers picked raw and inner cheek stuck permanently between my teeth. Carlos runs in second, just a few cars width behind Charles, and my mom’s hand grasps my shoulder tightly. The garage is cheering before I’ve even processed what has unfolded on the screen before me. Carlos passes Charles for the lead, and he’s already created a gap. My mouth falls open, tears threatening my eyes as the laps wind down and his lead continues to grow. Ferrari crew rush toward the barrier, climbing the fencing and waving Spanish flags.

When Carlos climbs from the car, my heart leaps in my chest. He launches himself into the arms of his waiting crew--a sea of red cheering and tapping his helmet. Ferrari flags fly, and his cousin nudges him my way after their embrace. My arms curl around his shoulders, and his hands grasp at my back. It’s an awkward hug with his helmet and my bump getting in the way, but it’s a hug we’ve both been wanting for as long as we can remember. I can’t wipe the smile from my face, and my hands hold each side of his helmet as his eyes meet mine through his open visor.

“You did it!” I cheer, face mimicking his smile and wide eyes.

“It’s for us,” he grins, gloved fingers brushing my cheeks. “It was for my girls.”

“God, I love you,” I ramble, hugging him tightly one more time before sending him down the way to celebrate with other Ferrari staff.

The smiles from our faces never fade, and tears threaten my eyes when the Spanish national anthem plays. He is stood on the top step, wrapped in a Spanish flag taking in everything around him. We all cheer loudly when he raises the trophy, and Silvia nudges me with her elbow gently as she whistles. Trying to leave the paddock takes longer than usual with extra interviews and people congratulating Carlos on our way out. Most people share congratulations for his win and a second round when they take in my protruding stomach. My parents take in the sights of the paddock, basking in the glory of the Ferrari hospitality. I can’t help but overhear people telling them about how great Carlos and I are together, and I dare miss the smiles growing on my parents’ faces at that.

The house is quiet as we enter, but our excited chatter fills the empty halls. My mom cuts a small slice of the cake she always buys for Carlos’ visit, and we all celebrate with a piece of dessert before my parents head to bed. I flop onto the couch, propping my feet up on the adjacent cushion. Carlos settles on the other side of me, my shoulder leaning into frame and slinging his arm around me.

“I feel bad that this is how we’re celebrating your first win,” I take a bite of cake from my fork. “You should be out partying with the team, hot girlfriend hanging off your arm, alcohol flowing. Not sitting in your future-in-laws’ house with a slice of cake.”

“Futue-in-laws?” he grins, wagging his eyebrows.

I elbow him gently, “You know what I mean.”

“I wouldn’t choose another way to celebrate, corazón. You’re here. That’s all I need,” he can’t even fight the smile at his cheesy words, but my heart bursts in my chest at his admission. “I’ve got a hot girlfriend on my arm. Cake instead of alcohol. The team can celebrate without me for tonight. I’d rather be here.”

“How do you always know what to say?” I look back at him with a smile.

He shakes his head gently, leaning in to kiss my lips and hand resting on my jaw. He tastes like sweet vanilla and almond--remnants of the frosting still coating his tongue. He sighs gently as I deepen the kiss, and my fingers crawl across his denim-clad thigh. He breaks away first, a gentle scolding ready on the tip of his tongue.

“We can’t,” he sighs regretfully, stopping my wandering hand with his larger one. “You know I’d love nothing more, but we can’t, corazón.”

“Carlos,” I whine, but he just gives me a look that affirms that he’s right. I huff as I lean back into him, head resting against his side as his hand rubs my arm, “Fine. You’re right. I just want you as much as possible before the next few races since I can’t be there.”

“I know, but we can’t. I think your dad secretly wants to kill me still for getting you pregnant. We don’t need to risk being caught in his house, too,” he grins.

I laugh wildly, covering my hand with my mouth as I snort. Carlos laughs along with me, and we soon settle into a comfortable silence in the dim living room. My hand traces his left hand, following veins and tendons across his tanned skin, and his right drags gently up and down my bicep and shoulder. After a while, I’m the first to break the silence around us.

“I’m going to watch every session in Austria and France on the television. I won’t miss a beat.”

He hums in agreement, leaving a kiss against my hair, “I’m going to call every night. A part of me wishes she was here already, but another part of me wants this to last forever.”

I laugh gently, “I can’t wait to not be pregnant anymore. I can finally paint my own toes or put my shoes on myself.”

Carlos chuckles, “That’s true, but I’ll miss seeing you like this. You’re always beautiful, but you’re glowing, amor.”

I kiss the back of his hand gently, “Who do you think she’ll look like?”

He’s silent for a moment, “I hope she looks like you, but maybe with my tan. She’ll be a heartbreaker.”

I laugh at his comment, imagining a little girl with my eyes and his hair, “Hopefully she knows how to be on time. Not too early, not too late.”

Carlos sighs quietly, but I catch it nonetheless, “It’s not too late for me to tell them I’m going to stay home.”

“Carlos, honey,” I start, craning my neck to look into his eyes, “I promise you that you won’t miss anything. Go to Austria, and then we’ll regroup for France. You’re not missing anything.”

My words sink in, and he nods gently as he pulls me up from the couch, “Let’s get to bed. I’m exhausted after today.”

“Can we at least make out a little more before bed? I promise I’ll be good.”

He laughs wildly as he shakes his head, practically forcing me up the stairs, “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Don’t you want to win a second time today?”

Madrid is hot, and the weather annoys me more as the weeks stretch on. By the time I’m 38 weeks, I can’t even see my toes when I stand, and I’m ready to not be pregnant more than ever before. Each day feels like a ticking time bomb--my mood swings or her arrival. So far, my angry outbursts or tearful breakdowns are the only thing happening. My parents stay with Carlos’ parents as they all await the baby’s arrival, and Steven and Marie travel down to a condo with the girls, playing tourist with their dad while their mom acts as my glorified babysitter.

“I still feel so guilty about going,” Carlos mumbles as he stacks his bags by the door.

“I told you to go--it’s your job,” I remind him, feet propped up on the coffee table and hands resting on my bare stomach. “I’ve still got a few days. It’s enough time for you to compete this weekend in France.”

“This can’t be our life right now,” he starts to walk toward me in the Spanish apartment. “This is our baby we’re talking about.”

“And she’s not ready yet,” I remind him, fingers resting on his hand he sets his on my stomach. “She knows you’ve got something important to do, so she’s going to wait until you’re back.”

“You know I’d drop everything for both of you, no?” his voice is gentle and brown eyes soft as he looks at my face.

I nod slowly, smaller hand squeezing his over top of my skin as tears well in my eyes, “I’ve never doubted it, Carlos.”

He leans in to kiss my lips gently, “You promise you’ll call if anything happens. I don’t care if I’m out on the track. Someone will have my phone at all times.”

“Ana or Marie will call before I even know anything is happening,” I chuckle quietly, relishing in his hands in mine. “They aren’t going to let you miss anything.”

His phone buzzes, indicating its time for him to leave for the airport for his short flight to France, “When I come back, you’ll still be pregnant, yeah?”

I laugh, “I promise. You’ll at least get a couple more looks at me like this.”

He grins wildly, “Good.”

Once he’s out of the apartment, I let out a shaky sigh as another contraction grips me. They’re not real--just false labor with the looming arrival. I collapse back to the couch, fingers reaching for my phone as I call Marie. I make her promise not to kill me before I tell her what’s going on, and she starts to scold me over the phone as she grabs a few things before catching a cab to my apartment. Even when she appears at my door, still spewing about how I should have told Carlos before he left, I begrudgingly let her in. I go back to the kitchen, reaching to put clean glasses back in the cabinets.

“I’m positive it’s just Braxton-Hicks contractions,” I start as Marie rushes in the apartment. “Carlos would kill me if I didn’t tell someone, though.”

“As he should!” she screeches, rushing over to me in the kitchen. “Quit putting things away and sit down! There’s a reason I’m here.”

“But you should be back with your own kids,” I whine as she pulls the glass from my hands.

“Your brother can handle those two for a couple hours,” she snaps back, shooing me toward the couch before finishing my work in the kitchen. “He’s got a huge hotel room that Carlos’ parents helped set up for him.”

I huff as I sit back on the couch, feeling another cramp rack my body. I take a sharp breath through my nose, sighing once it ebbs back into the dull pain in my back. Marie walks toward me, hands on her hips as she stands in front of me.

“Was that another one?”

I nod my head gently, “They’ve been coming and going since before Carlos left, but they’re more frequent now.”

She glares at me, “Have you told him?”

“I don’t want him to worry, Marie,” I huff. “I’m fine. My water hasn’t broken. Everything is fine besides whatever these are. It can wait until the weekend is over.”

She plops on to the couch next to me, “We’re going to start timing them, then. Since you want to be stubborn, I’ll play along.”

“As long as you promise not to call Carlos,” I glare at her.

“I’ll call him on the way to the hospital,” she quips back. “Less than five minutes apart, and he’s getting a phone call while I toss your ass in the car.”

Marie leaves only to say goodnight to her kids before coming back to sleep in the guest bedroom. I barely sleep at all, tossing and turning in the empty bed from Carlos’ absence and the aches and pains of my body. In the morning, I waddle toward the bathroom, hands bracing against my back and dark circles under my eyes. The sight before me alarms me--my water broke. Marie is in the kitchen, washing dishes from the small breakfast she made both of us. She glances at me as I waddle in, hands still against my back and a look of terror on my face.

“What’s wrong?”

I sit on one of the barstools, groaning slightly at the pull in my back, “Slept horribly, but it's the same aches and pains.”

She looks at me as she dries one of the dishes, eyebrows furrowed as she tries to figure out what I haven’t revealed to her. I pick my nails nervously, trying to fight the tears pooling in my eyes and attempting to ignore the sharp pull in my abdomen.

She glares at me from across the table, “What aren’t you telling me?”

Tears pool in my eyes as my voice shakes, “I think my water broke.”

“What?” her eyebrows are raised and eyes wide.

“Marie, I-”

She watches as my face contorts as another contraction grips me, the pain continuing for nearly a minute and a half as she times it on her phone. I lean back into the chair when it passes, brushing hair away from my face. Her gaze is gentle when she looks at my appearance, clearly feeling worse than I let on.

“I have to call Carlos,” she says, knowing I’m already going to fight her on it so he doesn’t miss the race. “Babe, you need to call your doctor, and keep timing those contractions. I’m going to call Carlos. I know you feel guilty, but he would kill both of us if I don’t call.”

“Let me see what the doctor says first,” I whisper, tears still threatening to spill over my lashes. “I don’t want to call him yet if they’re going to have me sit here and wait for things to progress.”

In the middle of the call with the doctor, another contraction grips me. Marie picks at her fingernails as she watches me, and the receptionist on the other end asks me details about the timing of everything. After some back and forth with Marie’s input, they ask me to come in as a precaution. I complain about it to Marie, and once she’s dropped my bag by the door, she calls Steven with a desperate plea to come kick my ass since I won’t listen.

“I’ll call Carlos,” my brother threatens over the phone. “I don’t care if he's got a practice session later, and neither will he. You’re being selfish right now.”

“Steven,” my voice suddenly cracks as emotions overwhelm me. “I don’t want to go yet. I can’t do this without him.”

Marie’s eyes are wide at my sudden switch in demeanor, and she suddenly feels guilty as I cry out, “You’re not going to do this without him. This takes time, babe, but you need to be at the hospital in case anything happens. You can’t sit here waiting for Carlos.”

“I told him I’d still be here when he got back,” the panic and fear consume me as I cry. “I promised him he wouldn’t miss anything.”

“He’s not,” Steven’s voice comes over the speaker. “I’d kill him if he did. You could still have days, but I know we’d all feel better if you at least went to the hospital. Come on, they’re waiting for you there.”

The gown is itchy on my skin, and Marie flips the small television monitor to FP1 in France. She makes the call to everyone but Carlos just to let them know I’m in the hospital, and what the doctors had said. Her eyes were wide when they said I was near the end of early labor, and she scolded me for trying to hide the severity of my contractions. When the doctors told me I had about 24 hours, my jaw nearly dropped as tears welled in my eyes. I barely watch the session, instead focusing on breathing through contractions spaced out just enough to keep from raising any alarms and feeling guilty for pulling Carlos away from the race. Marie hands me my phone after Carlos enters the garage, leaving FP1 with a few minutes to spare. It rings for a few moments before Carlos’ trainer Rupert answers. He hears the tears in my voice and immediately starts searching for the Spanish driver.

“Are you okay?” his voice sounds frantic as he is still coming down from driving the car.

“I’m okay, but promise me you won’t freak out,” my voice shakes as I start.

He manages to hold it in, but he’s freaking out. His heart drops into the pit of his stomach, and his mouth goes dry as he waits for me to speak. The adrenaline from the practice session wears off in an instant, and he’s instead left with shaking fingers and a nervous cold sweat.

“Talk to me, corazón,” his voice is calm, but he looks anything but to the people around him.

“So, before you left, I was having some pain. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I didn’t think it was real contractions. They were getting worse, and Marie stayed with me last night. Steven and Marie made me come to the hospital this morning, but only she is allowed to stay with me right now,” my voice is panicked as I speak to him. “Carlos, she’s coming.”

“What?” he struggles to remain calm, and it's evident as I hear shuffling and movement assuming he’s rushing through the garage. “Can I make it? Is she okay? Are you okay?”

Tears starts to pour down my face as I hear his voice, “I’m scared, Carlos. I can’t do this without you.”

“You’re not going to,” he answers without hesitation. “I’m leaving now. I don’t care about the race, corazón, not right now. Just breathe. Talk to me.”

Carlos rushes through the garage and toward his driver’s room. Rupert is not far behind him, helping him to throw stuff into bags and organize the jet back to Madrid. With the phone on speaker as he hurriedly changes out of his fireproofs, Carlos listens as his heart nearly beats out of his chest.

“They think I have about 24 hours before it’s time,” I start, sniffling as Marie steps out into the hallway to give me some privacy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t want you to miss this race and affect your season, but I also can’t do this without you next to me. I’m scared, Carlos. What if I’m not a good mum?”

He shushes me quietly, voice gentle despite his rushing on the other end, “You’ll be a great mum, mi amor. You already are before she’s even here. You’re strong, okay?”

I wipe my eyes, sniffling as I nod my head, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says gently, already grabbing his things and rushing back into the garage. “I’ll be there soon, corazón. I need to tell the team, and then I’m catching the jet. I should be there in five hours at the most.”

The hours stretch with poking and prodding from nurses every time they make their rounds, updating the chart according to contractions and if anything has changed. Marie dials my parents for me, and my mom puts the phone on speaker so that the Sainzs could hear me as well. Our parents were staying together, filling their days with golfing and relaxing in Madrid, but their carefree time quickly ends when I reveal that the baby would be coming soon. They meet up with Steven and my nieces, waiting patiently for any word from me about the baby or Carlos’ arrival. I drift into a fragile sleep here and there, eyes closing just enough to doze before something--usually a contraction--pulls me back into the exhausted state. Marie is my best friend through it all, breathing with me through sharp contractions, managing communications from our family and friends, and calming my anger whenever I’m poked yet again by nurses. She even shows me the statement from Ferrari about Carlos having to miss the race and the rest of the sessions. While they cite personal reasons, its clear to everyone why he is missing the races, and I nearly cry as Marie reads messages and comments of support and well wishes from fans and the F1 community.

When Carlos appears in the doorway, his nervous demeanor melts away as he sees me sleeping lightly on the hospital bed, gown stretched tight across my stomach and mouth tipped open with soft snores. Marie dozes in the chair next to my bed, her head propped up on a sweatshirt and phone resting in her hand. The sky is nearly dark now, and he steps into the dim room quietly, snapping a picture of me and my sister-in-law before gently waking Marie. She grins when she sees him, hugging him before wishing him luck. She looks at me on the bed one more time, voice a barely audible whisper directed at Carlos as she leaves.

“She’ll be so happy to see you when she wakes up,” her smile is barely visible in the dim hospital room. “You’re her everything.”

He nods, whispering back with a soft smile, “They’re mine, too.”

He sits where Marie was sitting, just watching me sleep lightly with a gentle smile on his face. He nods to the nurse when she enters, and he holds back laughter as I start to complain about the interruption as she checks my IV. With eyes still closed, I mumble some half-hearted comment about a pregnant lady wanting sleep, but when I hear the familiar choked laughter, my eyes fly open. Carlos is sitting next to me, dark bags under his eyes and the remnants of worry lines on his forehead, but an easy smile rests on his lips. I greet him excitedly, trying my best to sit up as the nurse pokes and prods at me. He stands as he holds my hand, kissing my forehead gently before stepping out of the nurses way. She shares some information with us, indicating it won’t be long before my contractions get worse and it’ll be time. Carlos fills me in on events of the paddock, recounting his dramatic exit from practice, and he breathes with me or lets me squeeze his hand with a death grip as more intense contractions take root. In the early morning hours, a doctor comes in with an easy smile.

“Are you ready, corazón?” Carlos whispers quietly, still holding my hand and eyes boring into mine.

Where panic previously gripped me, sending a cold sweat across my body and trembling to my limbs, a sense of calm and preparedness take root with Carlos by my side. I nod my head gently, leaning into him when he kisses my forehead. He shoots a text to our families before turning to me with an impenetrable smile.

“I’m here the whole way,” he reassures me as he holds my hand. “Let’s bring our surprise home."

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