The Surrogate

Starting to make a plan

"He's a father to your first surrogate, right?" Britta asks, she's totally confused why someone who Holly has helped would sell a story on her but then with Sebastian Vettel as her boyfriend, it's inevitable that someone would creep out of the woodwork eventually.

Holly looks to Seb for guidance, only himself and Ester know of Imogen and all the shit that had happened that caused the little girl to be taken away...at least for now. She's panicking, each breath short and shallow and with the baby putting pressure on her upper organs it won't be long before she passes out if she keeps going the way she is.

He looks from his phone to her and sees the state she's getting herself in to, his phone is put to one side so he can grasp hold of her face and make her focus on him. He stares deeply and intensely into her eyes, softly telling her to calm down and breathe along with himself. This stress is not what she needs so late into the pregnancy.

"Seb? Is everything ok?" Britta's worried voice can be heard but he ignores her for another minute, focusing all his attention on the woman he loves, the woman who right now he feels so fiercely protective of that it angers him how someone like her ex can decide pop up at a time like this.

"I want to go home," Holly manages shakily say, gripping hold of his hands where they're still holding her face.

He nods and reaches a hand out to grab his phone and inform Britta, "I'm taking Holly back to my place, we'll call you back in a while."

Cutting the call, he pats his pockets to make sure he has the key to his car and then helps Holly to her feet to begin leading her down the stairs and out to the car.

"We're leaving now?" It takes her the length of time it takes for them to reach the front door before it becomes clear that they're not heading back to the garden to join the others.

"You just said you wanted to go so I'm taking you back to mine where we can talk to Britta in private and you can relax," he replies, opening the door for her to let her step out first, "we'll get you seated in the car and then I'll pop back inside and let them know we're going, I'll say you're not feeling well and need to rest."

"But you love time with your family and it's not often you get to do it," she protests, stopping and pulling her hand from his.

"We need to get this sorted or at least decide what we're going to do," he grabs her hand again and unlocks the car as they walk towards it.

She's unsure of the tone of his voice, if it means he's angry at her, if he thinks this is all her fault or if he's angry at her ex. She doesn't say another word as he helps her into the car and then stalks off after promising to fetch her bag and bring it back with him.

It takes less than a minute for him to return, he gets into the car and drops her bag down by her feet and seconds later the car is swinging out of the gate, leaving his parent's home behind. He's quite aggressive with his driving style, accelerating as if he's behind the wheel of his F1 car and the way he comes up behind someone slower than him on the road and then tailgates them while muttering angrily in German let's her know his feelings clearly.

"I'm sorry," she says, looking to her left to see him gripping the steering wheel with both hands, his jaw tight and eyes staring ahead, unblinking. "This is my fault and I'm sorry."

He sighs, his posture in the seat relaxes and he glances to his right at his apprehensive looking girlfriend, "no, this isn't your fault, I don't blame you."

"But he's my ex, from my past, that makes it my fault," she points out.

He eases off the accelerator enough that the car in front begins to pull away a little, it's occupant no doubt relieved to no longer have him pushing it along the road. "It's not your fault, I won't have you blaming yourself," he affirms, holding a hand out for her to slip her fingers between his. "It's that fucking ex of yours and that guy in London who took and then sold the photos of us in that store. If it hadn't been for that photo then your ex probably wouldn't have been trying to get in touch with you."