Forever and always

Chapter fifty-two

Olivia's pov:

August 2022

Charles's summer break had officially come to an end, and with it, the Formula One season roared back to life. The first race after the break was in Belgium–a place that always felt personal to me, rooted in my identity as half-Belgian.

I'd been swamped with work over the past few weeks, deliberately so, just to free enough time to travel with Charles to this Grand Prix. This weekend, I'd be splitting my loyalties–watching the Sunday race from the Red Bull garage to support Max at what was practically his home race, while spending practice and qualifying sessions with Ferrari.

We'd flown in earlier today. It was Thursday, media day, which usually meant a full slate of interviews and press obligations for Charles. Normally I stayed back at the hotel on Thursdays–but this time, Charles had asked if I wanted to come with him. And honestly, how could I ever say no to that man?

We arrived at Spa-Francorchaps under a grey, overcast sky typical of the Ardennes. The air felt damp and heavy, but familiar. After heading to the Ferrari hospitality for quick hellos and to let the team know Charles had arrived, he disappeared into a packed schedule of media commitments.

With a few solo hours ahead of me, I grabbed my laptop and settled into the common area, the buzz of the paddock serving as oddly comforting background noise. A cold iced coffee in hand and a quiet corner to work in–honestly, I couldn't complain.

A few hours later, I looked up to see Charles and Carlos strolling toward me, mid-argument as usual.

"No mate, I won," Charles said, firm and completely unbothered.

"In your dreams, mate. You know I always win these things," Carlos shot back, smirking.

"What are you two arguing about now?" I asked, smiling as they stopped at my table.

"Your boyfriend lost the C2 challenge but is in complete denial," Carlos said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

"Oh God, I know exactly how he gets," I laughed. "I'm sure you're right, Carlos."

"Hey!" Charles protested. "I did win!"

Carlos and I exchanged a knowing glance and laughed.

"We'll see when the video comes out," I teased, packing away my laptop. Carlos had to head off, and it was nearly time for Charles and me to leave too.

"Ready?" I asked softly as Charles held a beautiful bouquet of white flowers.

He nodded, a small but heavy smile on his lips. I took his hand, and together we walked along the track, heading toward Turn 4–where Anthoine Hubert lost his life in 2019.

The moment we reached the spot, my heart sank. There were already a few bouquets laid gently on the grass. The air here felt stiller somehow, reverent, like the track itself remembered. Charles knelt down quietly and placed the flowers beside the others. I stood close, my hand brushing against his back in silent support.

"I miss you, mate..." he said, voice barely louder than the breeze.

I wrapped my arms around him, holding him gently from behind.

"I know it's been three years now, but I still miss him so much," Charles said, his voice heavy with memory.

"I know," I whispered. "But he's still with you, just like Jules and your dad. They never really left you."

He glanced up at me, eyes shining with emotion but softened by the warmth in my words.

"Thank you for being here with me. I really wish you had gotten to meet them–my dad, Jules, and Anthoine. They would've loved you."