Tú Y Yo ღ Fernando Alonso

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 16

♫ Why you do that little shit to me, shawty?
When you know that we was meant to be
Why'd you keep those things from me, my love? ♫

Cassandra García POV

What am I doing here? I don't know. All that I know is that I am scared, and he is the dad, so he is my best shot right now. He was obviously confused, but I still entered the room in my pajamas.

"I need company, and I don't want to tell people yet. You have to deal with me," I say as I head to his bed, where he was previously, I could notice it due to the unraveled sheets.

"You are always welcome. How are you feeling? Any symptom?" He asks curiously as he sits by my side.

"Some nausea, but I don't know if it's the pregnancy or stress. Can we talk about this, or is it too early? I mean, you just found out about this. I am still shaken up, and I've somehow known for two weeks," I am doubtful of the subject, but he genuinely smiles.

"I'm ready for whatever you want to discuss; this doesn't scare me. I've had a few more years to think about having a family. I am ready to talk about this as long as you are too," he says, and I nod, relieved.

"I don't know how to proceed now. I am due in April probably, I will have to communicate this to Lawrence, and everyone will know we are having a kid together. This will be like confirming all the rumors going on for years," I say nervously, seeing his cheeky smile

"We never denied them, and we won't do it now. Let people talk; we won't say we are together; we will just act like everything is normal. Photos will be taken, people will put 2 and 2 together eventually, and they can create a whole timeline. I will need to talk to Lawrence too because I am going to be there for the birth, and if it's on a race weekend, I will be there either way," he was calm and collected, and I was a whole mess.

"How can you be this calm? We are always fighting and bantering; this will be a huge mess. What if the kid thinks we hate each other when it's older?" My question was serious, but his laugh killed the mood.

"I think we can work it out until then. We will find a way to co-parent, and the kid will never notice the animosity. But our videos sure will haunt us for life," I laughed with him.

"I'm not sure I can move to England or Switzerland or Dubai, I like being close to my parents. But we can find a middle ground. Maybe two weeks with me and two with you once he is not breastfeeding or dependent on me," I suggest but he shakes his head.

"I'm coming back to Spain, I will travel between Spain and England, I will be as present as humanly possible. What do you want to do after the delivery? We both travel for most of the year. Do you want to continue working? Do you want to take a year and enjoy motherhood? What is your intention? Not for the financial aspect, what you would truly like."

"You can't leave your career, you just signed for them. I can't keep working in Formula 1, I can't travel with a newborn on a plane, but I don't want to be home. I need to find something in Spain," I say, a new worry settling into my mind. I need to find a job.

"I can buy a motorhome for the three of us, like a big one; it will do fine while he is still young. You can stay back when we leave Europe, but for European weekends it's achievable. I experimented with one of those, and it was great; it was better than a hotel. You can keep working, and we don't have to deal with airport commotion," his idea was genius, and I dreaded admitting that to him.

"Can you rent one? We could use it for a weekend, we don't have any European race, but we could stay there for a weekend, that seems like a good idea. And it's something rare coming from you," I try to downplay it, but his smug smile reminded me why I was so reticent.

"I will rent it for next weekend; we will go from here to Spain, go to talk to the doctors about the paternity test, spend the weekend, and then Austin is ours for the take," he says excitedly, and I nod as I lie under the covers and he does too, resuming the show he was seeing.

I got distracted by the show; it was actually pretty interesting. I expected him to be watching some boring show, but here we are, watching Netflix without yelling or giving each other snide remarks.

"If you snore, it will be the last noise you will remember ever making," I warn him as I see his eyes lightly closed, and he snatches them open.

"I don't snore, you would've noticed it before," he says as he gives me the remote, but I shake my head.

"You can turn it off. I'm tired, and I'm staying here."

And I did stay there. I woke up to a very sweaty Fernando, who had just returned from the hotel's gym. 

"I am going for a quick bath, but I already called room service, and they will bring our breakfast here in a few minutes," he says as he takes his shirt off and enters the bathroom.

I appreciated the perfect angle I was in, I watched him through the mirror in the bathroom, and this man was damn fine for a 40-year-old. I could only look away when I needed to stretch my muscles.

To my disappointment, the bathroom door closed, and I had to get up once I heard the knock on the door for room service. I opened it, made some small talk, and the man left. I turned around to find Fernando with a towel wrapped around his waist while he dried his hair in another towel.

I still despise this man, but he is damn fine when he wants to. I get now how this baby happened, my drunken mind is not that dumb.