Millie’s words roared through his head, and his stomach roiled, filled with anxiety, anger and a healthy dose of self-loathing. The thought of Millie leaving made his blood run hot, then cold, and then stop running entirely. The urge to run down the passage and storm into the bedroom, to gather her to him and rain kisses and apologies on her, was as strong as his urge to win his fourth championship.
He couldn’t imagine her not being there and didn’t know how he was going to fill the Millie-sized hole in his life. But he also couldn’t allow his feelings to get in the way of what he needed to accomplish. He paced the area in front of the open door, his heart rate erratic. He’d given himself a little more leeway because he wasn’t racing and had stepped away, just a fraction, but now that his hand was better and he could drive… That meant focusing on what was truly important. And that was racing.
Reaching the pinnacle of this sport, being the very best of the best, being spoken about in the same reverent terms as the greats, required insane levels of selfishness and dedication. Why couldn’t Millie understand that he’d allow nothing to come between him and his goals, between him and racing? That if he shifted his focus an inch left or right, he might miss something crucial. And he wasn’t only talking about his skills on the track but his management and leadership skills. This industry was filled with bright and ambitious people, men and women who would pounce on his smallest mistake. Being self-absorbed was a strength, not a weakness.
Not having any distractions was another.
He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let go of his focus on his dream for a woman. Not even for a woman who knew him as well as Millie did. She got him, on levels he never expected, but was she special enough for him to sacrifice his dream? No. Nobody was. Nobody would ever be.
His father never believed in him, so he had to believe in himself. Alex never respected him, so he had to have enough self-respect for both of them. He’d worked hard to get to where he was, battled his father’s lack of belief and support and fought for his place in the sun, and he wouldn’t surrender the ground he’d gained.
Especially not for something as vague as love. Because love was too indefinable, too much like mist fighting the sun. It couldn’t be bottled or contained, anchored or corralled. Love could morph, leave; love could change. He needed ironclad guarantees.
Maybe it was better if Millie faded from his life, both business and personal. If she did, he could go back to being the driven, ambitious, fully focused boss he’d always been. He’d win the championship. It would be a hard battle, but he was the personification of determination—and then he’d settle on a new challenge, a new goal. Something fresh to chase, a mountain—literally or metaphorically—to climb.
A new race to win.
Millie stood in the press room, her thumb flicking against her front teeth as she watched the Monaco race on the big screen TV. Her heart was in her mouth because Taz was having, as the commentators kept repeating, aninconsistentrace. There were moments of brilliance, followed by him taking a stupid risk, and then him not taking what they calledeasy wins. They were perplexed by his actions and worried he’d slip farther down the field.
Winning the race was impossible. A podium finish the longest of shots.
Her heart ached for him. Millie looked at her laptop bag, mentally reviewing everything she needed to do before exiting Taz’s life tomorrow. She had struggled to write the press release stating she and Taz were splitting up, eventually settling on the tried and trueWe’re parting to concentrate on our careers, but we will remain good friendshogwash. She had press releases ready to go whether he won, lost or didn’t feature in this race—although the last option looked more and more likely.
Whenever she thought of Taz, it felt like her heart was on fire, every beat a struggle. Leaving him felt like she was ripping her soul in half, but what choice did she have? Staying meant questioning every moment with him, his every word, every look. Wondering if she was a priority in his life, and if he could ever love her as much as he loved racing.
And she already knew the answer. He couldn’t.
She had to walk because, while she was happy not to stand in the world’s spotlight, she needed to stand in his, to have his focus and attention on her. She couldn’t be an afterthought. But Taz didn’t care enough to make room for her in his life. She’d played her part and restored his reputation which helped his brand. She’d been the perfect fake girlfriend, and they’d enjoyed a mutually satisfying fling.
She’d gotten as much as she could from him. She’d seen a few cracks in his emotional suit of armour, fleeting moments of realness, but they didn’t occur often enough, or last long enough, to convince her to stay. There were depths to him she would never know or be able to explore because he’d deliberately shut himself off from her. There was nothing she could say or do to change that.
She loved him. But love wasn’t enough. Not when it was one-sided. Not when she was willing to give him her heart, her everything, and he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do the same.
Leaving him was the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she had to. Because the only thing worse than walking away was staying and losing herself in the process.
Her phone pinged, and Millie pulled it from her back pocket. She squinted at the screen, seeing that her mum had texted her. That was unusual, as Millie always reached out first. They hadn’t had any contact for seven or eight months.
Without opening the message, she instinctively knew what it would say, what they wanted—and that was to bask in the publicity surrounding her and Taz. Her mother didn’t disappoint.
Millie, darling. We’ll all be joining you in Montreal next week. Book us rooms in the same hotel you are staying with your delicious Taz. Suites preferably. Make a reservation at Vin Mon Lapin, Taz can pay.
Millie didn’t hesitate, didn’t second-guess herself. Her fingers flew across the keypad as she banged out her short response.
I’m not an idiot, Mum. I know I wouldn’t have heard from you had I not been dating Taz De Rossi.
She wasn’t anymore, but her mother didn’t need to know that.
I’mnotyour ticket to publicity, I’m barely your daughter. Don’t come.
Millie saw that her mother was typing a message but decided she wouldn’t read it. She wasn’t in the mood to be gaslighted today. Millie shoved her phone into the back pocket of her jeans, surprised at how calm she was. Had she finally learned how to emotionally disengage? To let her mum’s demands and criticisms roll off her back?
Compared to losing Taz, her family’s disapproval barely registered. She’d wasted enough time and energy and was done with trying to please or impress them. She was worthwhile, with or without their approval. She’d found herself, finally saw herself as Ben did. She was smart, capable and interesting, comfortable in her skin and able to walk into ballrooms or boardrooms. She no longer needed their, or anyone’s, approval.
Even if Taz couldn’t love her, or make space for her in his life, she wasenough.Excitement in the commentator’s voice pulled her attention back to the screen. Instead of focusing on the leader, a driver ranked way below Taz and the other contenders for the championship, the cameras were on Taz’s car as he weaved in and out of the pack in the middle of the field. The standings board flashed up on the screen, and Taz had jumped from eleventh to eighth, then to fifth, and now he was in fourth place. He was on the tail of his arch-rival and beating him would give him points in the leadership race.
‘If De Rossi keeps driving like this, with verve and confidence, he might take this race. Exceptional driving by an exceptional racer,’ said the race analyst.
He certainly had guts, flair and focus. Millie kept her eyes glued to the screen, her heart in her mouth. She’d spend the rest of her life wishing things between them could’ve been different, that they could’ve found a way to make it work, but she wanted him to succeed.
