Chapter Text
Epilogue
The venue was a castle.
Not a real castle — a restored château in the French countryside, hours from the noise of Monaco and the pressure of the paddock. Stone walls. Ivy climbing toward the roof. Gardens that stretched to the horizon, bursting with roses and lavender and the soft green of early summer.
Nico stood in front of a mirror.
His suit was white. Tailored. Simple. A single rose on his lapel — red, because Lewis loved red.
His hands were shaking.
"You're going to wrinkle it," a voice said from the doorway.
Nico turned.
His mother stood there. Older now. Grayer. Her eyes were wet.
"Mama."
"You look beautiful," she said.
Nico's throat was tight. "I'm not —"
"You are." She walked toward him. Took his hands. "You've always been beautiful. But today —" She stopped. Swallowed. "Today you look like you're finally where you belong."
Nico's eyes burned.
"He's waiting for you," she said.
Nico nodded.
---
The garden was full of faces.
Old faces. New faces. Faces from 2016 and faces from 2026. The past and the present, blurred together in the golden afternoon light.
Sebastian Vettel sat in the front row. Retired now. Happy. He was talking to Jenson Button, who was laughing at something on his phone.
Kimi Räikkönen sat further back. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. His wife elbowed him. He smiled. Barely.
Fernando Alonso was there. So was Mark Webber. So was David Coulthard, who had flown in from Scotland and was already crying.
The 2026 grid had shown up too. Max Verstappen, in a suit that cost more than most people's rent. Charles Leclerc, who kept checking his phone for updates from Ferrari. Lando Norris, who was taking photos of everything and sending them to a group chat that did not include Nico.
Toto Wolff sat in the second row. His arm was around Susie. His eyes were on Nico.
He was smiling.
---
Nico's father was there.
Keke sat in the front row. His hair was white now. His hands were steady.
He looked at Nico.
Nico looked at him.
They didn't speak. Didn't need to.
Keke nodded.
Nico nodded back.
---
Lewis was already at the altar.
His suit was black. His rose was white. His hands were shaking.
"Stop fidgeting," his mother said from the front row.
Lewis stopped.
His father was beside her. His stepmother. His siblings. People who had loved him before the championships, before the records, before the world knew his name.
He looked at them.
They looked at him.
"We're proud of you," his mother mouthed.
Lewis's eyes burned.
---
The music started.
Nico walked down the aisle.
The garden was silent. The guests turned. The sun caught the white of his suit, the red of his rose, the gold of the ring already on his finger — the same ring Lewis had bought in 2017, the same ring Nico had said yes with.
Lewis watched him.
Nico watched Lewis.
They didn't smile. Didn't cry. Just looked at each other — the way they'd been looking at each other for seventeen years. The way they'd never stopped.
Nico reached the altar.
Lewis took his hands.
"Hi," Lewis said.
"Hi."
"You're crying."
"I'm not crying."
"You're crying."
Nico laughed. Wet and broken. "Shut up."
Lewis squeezed his hands.
"I love you," Lewis said.
"I love you too."
---
The vows were simple.
Lewis went first.
"I bought a ring in 2017," he said. "I was going to fly to Monaco. I was going to ask you to spend your life with me."
The guests were silent.
"I didn't go. I was scared. I thought you'd say no. I thought you'd say yes and then leave. I thought a lot of things that weren't true."
Nico's lip trembled.
"But I kept the ring. For nine years. I kept it in a box. I kept it in my heart. I kept it because I couldn't let go of the hope that one day —" Lewis's voice cracked. "One day, you'd come back."
Nico's tears fell.
"And you did. You came back. Not the way I expected. Not the way anyone expected. But you came back."
Lewis squeezed his hands.
"So I'm not going to make a speech about forever. I'm just going to promise you today. And tomorrow. And every day after that, for as long as you'll have me."
---
Nico's vows were shorter.
"I've been in love with you since 2009," Nico said. "I didn't know it then. I was stupid. I was scared. I was young."
The guests laughed. Softly.
"I've been in love with you through championships and crashes and years of silence. I've been in love with you in every timeline, every version of this life, every moment we've been given."
Nico looked at Lewis.
"You bought a ring in 2017. You kept it for nine years. You never gave up on me."
Lewis's eyes were wet.
"I'm not going to waste any more time," Nico said. "I love you. I've always loved you. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life showing you."
---
The officiant spoke.
The rings were exchanged.
The words were said.
"You may kiss the groom."
Lewis kissed him.
Nico kissed him back.
The guests cheered.
Sebastian cried. Jenson cried. Kimi didn't cry, but his wife did. Lando took a photo. Max smiled — actually smiled — and no one caught it on camera.
Toto Wolff stood up. Clapped.
Keke Rosberg sat in his seat. Silent. Proud.
Nico's mother held Lewis's mother's hand.
The sun set over the garden.
The world was golden.
And for a moment — just a moment — everything was perfect.
---
Six Months Later
The orphanage was quiet.
White walls. Polished floors. The smell of antiseptic and something sweet — cookies, maybe, or hope.
Nico held Lewis's hand.
They'd talked about this for months. Adoption. Building a family. Giving a home to children who needed one.
Lewis had been nervous. Nico had been terrified.
But here they were. In 2026. Married for six months. Ready.
"We're looking for a kid," Nico said to the woman at the front desk. "Young. Under five. Maybe a bit older."
The woman smiled. "Of course. We have several children waiting for a home. Would you like to meet them?"
Nico looked at Lewis.
Lewis nodded.
"Yes," Nico said.
---
The playroom was bright.
Colorful mats on the floor. Toys scattered across tables. A mural of a jungle on the far wall.
And in the corner —
Two girls.
The older one was maybe eleven. Dark hair braided back. Big, intelligent eyes. She was holding a stuffed rabbit, clutching it to her chest, watching the door with wary suspicion.
The younger one was maybe nine. Same dark hair. Same big eyes. She was sitting on the floor, drawing something on a piece of paper, completely absorbed in her work.
Nico's heart stopped.
"This is Alaïa," the woman said, gesturing to the older girl. "She's eleven. Born in 2015."
Nico's breath caught.
2015.
The year everything changed.
The year before the championship, before the walls, before the silence.
The year their love was strongest.
She was born when we were still —
"And this is Naila," the woman continued. "She's nine. Born in 2017."
Lewis's hand tightened on Nico's.
2017.
The year Lewis bought the ring.
The year he almost asked.
The year he found his courage.
She was born when he was getting ready to change both their lives.
Nico's eyes burned.
---
"They're sisters," the woman said. "Their parents passed away last year. They've been in the system since."
Nico knelt down.
Alaïa stared at him. Wary. Protective.
"Hi," Nico said softly. "I'm Nico."
Alaïa didn't answer.
Nico didn't push.
He sat on the floor. Cross-legged. Patient.
Lewis knelt beside him.
"Hi, Alaïa," Lewis said. "I'm Lewis."
Alaïa's eyes moved between them.
Naila looked up from her drawing. Studied them. Went back to her paper.
---
They stayed for an hour.
Alaïa didn't speak. But she let Nico hold her stuffed rabbit when she needed a break. She let Lewis show her pictures of his farm — horses, cows, a dog named Roscoe.
Naila showed Nico her drawing. A horse. A house. Two stick figures holding hands.
"That's us," Naila said.
Nico's throat was tight. "Who?"
"You and Papa Lewis."
Nico's tears fell.
Naila looked at him. "Why are you crying?"
"Because I'm happy," Nico said.
Naila considered this.
"Okay," she said.
She went back to her drawing.
---
Nico held Alaïa's rabbit. Looked at Lewis.
"They're ours," Nico said.
Lewis's lip trembled. "We said one —"
"They're ours." Nico looked at Alaïa, then at Naila, then at Lewis. "Look at them. Alaïa was born in 2015. When our love was strongest. When we were still fighting but still — still something."
Lewis's eyes were wet.
"Naila was born in 2017. When you were getting your courage. When you bought the ring. When you almost —"
Lewis nodded.
"They were meant for us," Nico said. "I know it sounds crazy. I know it doesn't make sense. But they were meant for us."
Lewis looked at Alaïa. At Naila. At Nico, holding Alaïa's rabbit like it was the most precious thing in the world.
"Okay," Lewis said. "They're ours."
---
The paperwork took three months.
Three months of visits, interviews, background checks. Three months of Alaïa slowly warming up, speaking her first words to Nico, calling him "Papa Nico" instead of "sir." Three months of Naila calling Lewis "Papa Lewis" from the very first day, like she'd always known.
The day the adoption was finalized, Nico cried.
Lewis cried.
Alaïa looked at them both.
"Why are you crying?" she asked.
"Because we're happy," Nico said.
Alaïa considered this.
"Okay," she said.
She climbed into Lewis's lap.
Nico kissed her head.
---
The farm was Lewis's sanctuary.
Acres of green. Horses in the fields. A barn that had seen better days but was full of love.
The girls loved it.
Alaïa fed the horses. Named each one. Talked to them like they understood.
Naila chased the chickens. Fell in the mud. Laughed.
Lewis taught them to ride. Nico taught them to garden.
On Sundays, they all sat on the porch, watching the sunset, holding hands.
"You did good," Nico said one evening.
Lewis looked at him. "We did good."
Nico leaned against him.
Alaïa was on Lewis's lap. Naila was on Nico's.
The sun dipped below the horizon.
The world was quiet.
And for the first time in both their lives, everything was exactly as it should be.