"Ouch." He clutches his chest in mock offense. "And here I thought I was the love of your life."
"That, too," I murmur, watching his expression soften. "Sometimes."
His smile widens, bright enough to rival the stars above. "I'll take sometimes." His fingers thread through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. "Violet… say… I want to spend the holidays with you properly this year. Make up for last year's mess."
"Is that so?" I arch an eyebrow, though I'm fighting to keep my eyes open under his ministrations. "And what does 'properly' entail in the Foster universe?"
"Christmas at my place. Lazy mornings in bed. Matching ugly sweaters if I can convince you." His voice drops lower, intimate. "Being disgustingly in love where everyone can see us."
"We'll see about it," I tease, though we both know I've already mentally agreed to everything he's suggested.
"We will," he confirms with absolute certainty as he softly caresses my forearms.
His lips find mine in a gentle kiss, warm and familiar and still somehow thrilling. I taste mint toothpaste, and the faint sweetness of the champagne he must have had earlier. When he pulls back, his eyes reflect starlight.
"I'm so proud of you," he whispers. "What you've built with this team. What you've survived. How you've led us. You’re a remarkable professional. And an even more remarkable woman, Violet."
A lump forms in my throat, unexpected emotion rising at his words. "We did it together. You, me, Blake, EJ, Belforte, the whole team."
"Your vision, though." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Your refusal to give up when everyone said Colton Racing was finished."
I swallow hard, still not used to such direct praise. "Well, we're just getting started. Wait until next season."
William chuckles, pulling me closer again. "That'smyViolet. Already planning world domination while barely keeping her eyes open."
I don't bother denying it, just settle more comfortably against him, letting my eyes close fully. The steady rhythm of his breathing, and the distant hum of the party below create a soothing soundtrack as exhaustion pulls me under.
"Rest," he murmurs, lips brushing my forehead. "I've got you."
And I do, surrendering to sleep with complete trust. Because if this season has taught me anything, it's that some risks are worth taking. Some vulnerabilities are worth exposing. And some loves are worth fighting for, consequences be damned.
Epilogue 1
Violet
I park my Taycan next to William's Polo, killing the engine. The countryside silence rushes in. My heart hammers against my ribs—not from driving, but from what I'm about to do. I check my watch: 4:13 PM, Christmas Eve.
I step out into the crisp winter air. William's farmhouse stands before me, renovated yet rustic, with smoke curling from the chimney. The karting track in his backyard is dusted with a thin layer of snow. My heels crunch on the gravel as I approach his front door, my breath clouding before me.
Before I can knock, the door swings open. William stands there, hazel eyes widening, mouth slightly parted in surprise. He's wearing a black zip hoodie over a Colton Racing T-shirt—our team's merch, with his name emblazoned across the chest—and black sweatpants. Comfortable. Home.
"Violet?" His voice breaks slightly. "You're early."
I barely have time to smile before he's moving, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. His arms wrap around me, lifting me slightly off the ground. The smell of chocolate and William's scent that makes me melt on the spot fills my senses.His soft beard tickles my face as his lips find mine, hungry and insistent. It seems that he’s been using those beard care products I’d bought as his present last Christmas and ended up giving him back in Monaco.
"Desperate much?" I laugh against his mouth when he finally pulls back. "We saw each other two days ago at the factory."
He doesn't release me, just adjusts his grip to look into my eyes. "Two days, sixteen hours, and"—he checks his watch dramatically—"twenty-three minutes. But who's counting?"
"You, apparently." I love how ridiculous he can be at times.
"Any distance from you is enough to make me count hours." He tucks a curl behind my ear. "You should be all coy instead of a realist. It's more romantic."
I laugh, the nervousness from earlier melting away in the warmth of his gaze. We're still standing in his doorway, my body pressed against his, and I suddenly realize this is perfect. This moment.
"And what if that distance was shortened?" I say, my voice steadier than I feel.
William's brow furrows. "What do you mean?"
