“I never liked him,” Mum lies over the phone.
“Well now, that’s a bold-faced lie,” I remark back. She did actually like Perry.
“Then I hate him now. What a loser.” The disgust in Mum’s voice is reassuring, but I feel like the loser here. “Your father would have been able to read what kind of man he was.”
Dad passed away from pancreatic cancer when I was twelve. It was shit, and I miss him terribly, but Mum made sure she filled the gap of two parents as best as she could. He would always say,“It is what it is. No point getting upset over something we have no control over.”I believe that attitude enabled him to hold on another eleven months passed the specialist’s predictions.
“I remember the first time he met Aunty Hazel’s ex-husband. He called it that he would be a dick and leave her at that first meeting. Great read of character. He would have saved you the two years with Perry,” she shares.
“I don’t think that’s fair pressure to put on dear dead Dad,” I scoff.
“You need someone who has a spine, sweetheart. Someone who has character and who knows how topolitelyintimidate.” Her voice sounds wistful.
“Intimidate?” I breathe, my shock not hidden in my voice.
“Yes. If someone hurts you—physically or emotionally—you need someone to step up and threaten to thump them. Someone who will do anything to protect you and your mental health,” she says, the determination in her voice apparent.
My dad was never a threatening or scary man to me. Even when I was worried I would get in trouble with him, he was the more lenient of my parents, Mum being a bit of a bad ass, yet also a hard ass. But hearing that Dad would do anything needed to protect Mum made me proud of him. “Did Dad ever do that for you?”
“Absolutely. It was one of the characteristics that made me fall in love with him. I knew he would always have my back. I had a jerk of a landlord when your father and I started dating who would pop over whenever he wanted to. Your fatherpolitelytold him to stay away and only come around after giving me four days written notice, otherwise, he should be careful not totripcoming up the stairs.” She laughs at the memory.
Of all the stories Mum told me, I’d never heard that one before. It was oddly comforting and showed the man Dad was and how much she misses him.
“Nikki and Dave are keen to come see you. We can work out some dates when I’m home next week after testing.” I’m done talking about Perry. It’s all I thought about for the last five days. Mum has called nearly every hour, and Nikki has been flooding me with motivational, post break up words of encouragement. I am at capacity of all the positive cheerleading.
“That sounds wonderful. I’ve missed them. Now they are two good eggs. I am glad you have them in the paddock. What should I cook?” she asks the last part to herself. I can hear the gears turning in her head.
“I’ll let you decide that, but don’t go overboard.” A hollow warning. She won’t listen to me on that.
“Sure, sure.” I’ve lost her attention. Thank goodness.
“Get off this call and research food ideas. I know you want to.” I laugh. I could do with getting off the call.
“Okay, I’ll send you some ideas and you tell me if they will like them,” she directs.
“Sounds good. Shoot them through when you want. Bye, Mum. Love you.”
“Love you, too, sweetheart.” And her end goes quiet.
Giving Mum a project of planning a meal for when Dave and Nikki come over will give her something to do for a good few hours, if not for a few days, until I head over. I should have mentioned it to her earlier to give me some breathing room. Actually, no. I needed her comforting voice the last few days.
Laying on the bed, I open social media to doomscroll for a distraction. I have a few of the riders’ accounts pop up with promo videos and pictures. Nothing outrageous. I continue to scroll when I come across Perry’s account. Dammit, I forgot to get rid of him on my socials. I see a four-day-old post of him at an airport lounge with a drink in hand in my feed. I click on his account and come across his latest post: him, with his stupid, chiselled face, smiling with a beautiful redhead woman, who’s probably a model, on the deck of a boat. His caption is a white heart.
I’m frozen. It’s been less than a week. I know she is none of his family or friends.And a heart caption?That’s absolutely a new girlfriend, and that istotallya hard launch of the relationship. What is happening? How is everyone okay with this? How are they not confused by the sudden departure of me? My eyes and finger scroll down the positive, glowing comments, recognising some names from my neighbouring teams. My stomach churns with embarrassment at the thought of the impending conversations I will have to have with people I work with. Scrolling through his feed, I realise I have been removed from all of his previous posts. Erased. This looks like we have been broken up for a while. How could he have thrown away a long-term relationship so casually? How is this the same person I fell for?
Fuck this fucking ass-hat.I rage as I unfollow and block his accounts, throwing my phone on the bed and angrily pacing in my hotel room.
I need to try and calm myself down.
8
Javi
“Fuck you, you ambitious bastard.” Riley laughs at me while I finish a set of chin ups at the strength and conditioning training facility. “You’ve gotten three of my best crew! Stop rubbing it in!”
“Sorry, dude. I need to win next season. Plus, Rayna is the one who negotiated. No one can say no to her. She’s a gem,” I say truthfully. She is nothing but radiance and kind heartedness, passionate about racing and taking care of her team. Everyone wants to make her as happy as she makes them feel.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re lucky the people stepping up in my team have been mentored by them, otherwise, I would be coming for you, cupcake,” Riley grunts as he swaps with me and starts on his chin ups.
