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WILLOW

“Our love was written in the stars.” — W

I can’t believe I’m here.

At the Grand Monaco Prix, something I used to watch on TV. But now, I’m here— not just as a fan, but as the wife of the man who’s going to blow everyone away and claim the title of champion once again.

My man.

I look up at the sky, watching the sun shine brightly, casting a beautiful glow over the pit lane as I stand with my boys. The crowd is buzzing with energy and excitement as we watch the drivers get inside their cars, preparing for the race.

Wade and Maverick are losing their minds, their hands gripping mine so tightly I can feel their tiny hearts racing with every beat.

Today isn’t just any day—it is the day Madden is set to race for his third Formula 1 championship title. The whole world seems to be holding its breath with us, waiting to watch him give his all for the title.

“Mom, look at Dad!” Wade shouts, his voice full of awe as he points toward his father. Madden is just stepping into his car, the sleek lines of his race suit glinting in the sunlight. He looks so handsome that my heart goes wild at just seeing him. Even all these years later, he still makes me feel all gooey inside and gives me butterflies. Nothing has changed. It won’t ever change. “Wow! He looks sooooooo cool!”

“Yeah! Dad is the coolest,” Maverick shouts just as in awe of his father as his brother. “Those other guys have nothing on him. He’s going to win. Go Dad!” My little mini-me pulls his cap low, just like his father does, and it makes me smile.

Maverick may look like me, but he definitely his daddy’s attitude.

I smile, pride swelling in my chest as I watch my husband slide into the cockpit, adjusting his helmet with that intense focus that makes my heart flip. He looks confident as if he already has won the race and I have no doubt in my mind that he will.

The roar of the crowd and the deep, throbbing hum of the engines fills the air. “Daddy really is the coolest, boys,” I agree softly, my voice full of love for the man who to this day keeps painting my world green.

Wade bounces on his toes, his dark eyes darting between the cars as he puts his father’s F1 jacket on. I can’t help but smile at how much he mirrors Madden in his passion. “Can we cheer for him now?” he asks.

“As soon as the race starts, we’ll cheer as loud as we can. Okay?” I promise, feeling a rush of adrenaline of my own. “You shout really loud for Dad!”

The boys let out a gleeful whoop, their energy infectious as I laugh along with them. It is magical moments like these—moments of pure, unfiltered happiness—that fills my world with color when I’m not having a good day. This—being here with my babies while watching their father race—is magic.

“It’s about to start, Mav!” Wade screams.

“Go, Dad! Fly!” Wade jumps up and down.

And as the countdown begins, the atmosphere shifts, becoming almost electric. The announcer’s voice booms through the speakers, and I glance down at my boys. Their faces are a mixture of concentration and wonder.

"Five! Four! Three!" The crowd around us begins to pulse with energy, their voices rising in unison.

“Two! One! Go!” That comes from Wade.

And then—the engines roar to life and the cars surge forward, and among them, Madden’s car—his car—shoots ahead like a shooting star, a blur of red, its engine roaring like a beast.

Go, baby, go!

The boys jump up and down pulling me with them, their voices joining in on the crowd’s cheering, their arms waving wildly as they shout, “Go, Dad! You can do it!” Wade’s words are almost lost in the noise of the crowd, but they ring through my heart filling it with pride and so much love.

Maverick mirrors him, his tiny voice full of joy and pride as he shouts, “Go, Daddy!” I can’t help but laugh, feeling a surge of love for both of them.

As the race unfolds, I feel my heart in my throat with every sharp turn, every nerve-wrecking lap. Madden navigates the track like the pro he is—with hunger and passion. The boys' faces light up with awe, cheering him on every time he passes the checkered flag.

"Dad is flying! Look at him!!" Maverick squeals, his hands clapping together as Madden flies past. “My Dad's the fastest!”

“Yeah! Dad’s winning!” Wade echoes, bouncing on the tips of his toes, his eyes wide as we watch Madden inch ahead of his rivals.

And while everyone else is excited to watch who comes first, I’m waiting for him to win so our little family can finally know the gender of our newest family member. Our youngest and last.

Yes, I’m pregnant.

This baby wasn’t planned but like the boys he or she is a blessing and we can’t wait to meet them.

The boys are split. Maverick wants another brother while Wade wants a little sister. Madden wants a daughter because in his words he wants a little fairy that looks like me.

I, on the other hand, don't care as long as they’re happy and healthy.

“This is it, boys. Get ready to scream!” I hold my boys tighter.

Each lap feels like it is stretching time itself, but my heart swells with pride. It isn’t just about the championship—it is about watching Madden give everything he has to something he loves, something he’d worked for his whole life.

He’s no longer that boy without a home.

His kids and I are his home and he’s ours.

As the final lap approaches, the energy in the pit grows, the tension driving me mad. The boys and I stand together, our hearts in sync as the race reaches its climax. And then, it happens.

Madden’s car crosses the finish line with a roar, the crowd erupts into loud cheers and whistles. And just as we think it can’t get any more magical, Madden maneuvers his car into a cloud of tire smoke, and he shapes a perfect pink heart.

He won…

He did it!

A pink heart.

A girl.

“He did it!” I shout, lifting the boys high into the air as their happy squeals echo in my ears. “He’s the champion!”

“It’s a girl!” Maverick rolls his eyes playfully.

“We’re going to have a sister and Dad won!” Wade shouts.

My babies cling to me, joy radiating from them in waves, their faces alight with pride and love for their father and their little sister.

I’m going to have a daughter and deep down I hope she turns out exactly like her father. A little beautiful Grinch to love.

With wide smiles, we turn to watch Madden climb out of his car, his helmet in hand, and a cocky grin on his face. His eyes search the crowd, and when he spots us, he signs ‘I Love You’, making my heart skip a beat.

“Mama! Dad won!” Wade shouts, waving back with all his might. His little voice rings with the magic of the moment, and I feel my chest swell with happiness.

“Yes, he did!” I shout back, holding the boys close as we join the crowd in celebrating Madden’s win.

He always will.

Because he’s… him.

My heart.

My Grinch.

Mine.

And as we stand there, our voices rising with the crowd, I can't help but think that, in the end, the race for Madden’s heart, was the greatest and most magical adventure of all.