Tú Y Yo ღ Fernando Alonso

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 18

♬I think he knows his hands around a cold glass
Make me wanna know that body like it's mine  ♬

Cassandra García POV

The motorhome was luxury at its peak, and I could very well live here for half of the year or more if I had to. It has three bedrooms: one for me, another for Fernando, and one for the baby growing inside of me. 

I am going to be a mom. I still can't believe it, and my past self would be so flabbergasted if she knew what was happening right now. Between Fernando and Luís, I think I got the better option nonetheless. 

I went outside to get some air after we had dinner. He was inside having a meeting with someone from Aston, so I tried to run through the background; I really wasn't going to crawl through the floor, but I heard a very distinctive laugh. Lance.

"What the hell is Cassandra doing there? Did you kidnap her, or did you two finally stop your little war?" Lance asks; I shake my head as Fernando looks at me while trying not to laugh.

"Cassandra? You are seeing things; are you sure you aren't in love with the girl? I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy," Fernando says as I pick up my flip-flop, pointing it at him as I squint my eyes. He smiles proudly.

"You can keep her for yourself; you are good for each other. Tell her that she can't run for her life, I would've recognized her either way. I've had to be with her for most days of the year for more years than I expected," and that is when I showed up in the frame willingly.

"Got any problem with my running? I'm not the one who always falls on slippery steps," I throw in his face and I see his outrage.

"They were slippery!"

"And you are the only one falling on them. How?" 

"Because I wasn't paying attention," he defends himself, and I laugh.

"So, are you trying to warm up to Fernando? It won't happen. His ego is way too big," I say as I turn to the kitchen and look for something to eat from what we had bought. But I wanted something we didn't have and something I am usually fond of. Cravings are starting.

"Don't even try to change the subject. What are you and Fernando doing together during your days off?" He asks, suspicion filing his voice, and I show up once again by Fernando's side.

"Well, we are trying to be civil since we will work for your dad next season. Do you want a murder to occur? We also found each other while visiting family, so it's not going great if you ask me. I feel like I am at work still," I say as I lean and put my hand on Fernando's shoulder.

"It seems to go very well to me, I will be going now. See you next week," he says, and we wave goodbye to him before he hangs up.

"I am going to the supermarket; I need something from there," I say, walking away to my purse. He was at the door when I turned around.

"What did we forget?" He asks, keys in hand.

"Nothing, I'm having a craving, so I am going to fulfill it before the kid comes with a peanut butter face, or whatever," I say as I walk in his direction.

"Is it your first craving? I can go get it; you can stay back and rest for a bit," the emotion in his voice was hard to describe, but he seemed excited, and I found it slightly endearing.

"It is, but I can go; I might want something else. You can stay back if you want, I can walk there. It's fast," I say, but he shakes his head as he opens the door, and we leave for the supermarket.

It was a quick walk, and we returned in less than half an hour. I sat on the couch, peanut butter sandwich in hand, and it tasted good. Oh, this baby is going to take me on a roller coaster. Fernando sat by my side. Both of us are already in our pajamas.

"When are you telling your family?" He asks nervously and I shrug.

"We have a month until the season ends, I am almost reaching the three-month mark. It's safe to tell people, what do you want to do? Do you want to keep it for ourselves until the season ends? I will need to speak to Lawrence about this, I can't blindside him. I have to sign my contract in Abu Dhabi," I say, and he leans back, nodding.

"I also think talking to Lawrence is a priority, but our families should know first. I will do it when you are ready."

"We can spend tomorrow here. On Sunday go to my parents' house for lunch and tell them and then dinner at yours and tell them. You could go alone, I can go alone too. They are intense, as you might remember," I say, thinking of the many times my parents came to the circuit for the Spanish Grand Prix, and they were fawning all over Fernando and scolding me for being rude.

"I love them, I wouldn't call them intense. They are so much nicer than you! I'm going to that lunch, and you can come to dinner if you feel comfortable with that," he says as he laughs, and I laugh too.

"They idolize you, I don't. Being good on track doesn't make you less of an asshole outside of it," I defend myself, and he nods, getting closer, his face serious.

"Do you think I am an asshole?" He asks seriously, and I nod.

"I do! 100 percent."

"Having a kid with an asshole is going to be a hard 18 years for you, in the least."

"18 years? Call it more like 40; I'm glad I can have ten years without dealing with you since you will probably die first with the whole age gap and men being dangerous creatures. Your sense of adventure will need to chill down so your kid can have a present father, though," I warn him, and he nods, kissing my forehead before returning to his previous leaned-back posture.

"Don't worry about it, I got my priorities straight since you told me about the baby. I am not going anywhere, cariño."

"Then stay bebé," I answer, looking at the television immediately. He is going to be a good dad, I can't say the opposite.