I didn’t stop.
Because if I stopped, I’d start thinking again. About Elena. About Ross. About whether Suzuka was a fluke or the start of a freefall. About how I used to know exactly who I was.
And now?
Now I was the guy who couldn’t stop checking for a woman in every room. Who made excuses to walk her home. Who lied to his team, his engineer, his friends, himself.
I hit twenty.
Pain lanced up my calves, into my thighs.
Good.
I ran until my vision started to shimmer, until the ache in my lungs eclipsed the ache in my chest. Then I hit the emergency stop and flung myself sideways off the treadmill like it had personally offended me.
The silence after was deafening.
I braced both hands on my knees, sweat dripping onto the mat, heartbeat like a war drum in my ears.
I was unravelled. Coming apart, thread by thread, and doing everything in my power not to let anyone see.
Footsteps behind me.
Mac.
Of course.
He stood just out of my eyeline, arms crossed, unreadable. He didn’t say anything.
Didn’t need to.
“Don’t,” I muttered, still bent over. “I don’t need a pep talk.”
“I wasn’t goin’ to give one,” he said. “You’d only ignore it.” He paused. Then, softer: “But you’ll need your legs on Saturday, so maybe don’t kill ’em today.”
I straightened, breath still ragged. Our eyes met in the mirror.
Mac gave a slow nod, like he saw exactly what I was trying to exorcise.
And knew it wasn’t going anywhere.
I left the gym and headed for the next stop in my reliable routine.
I stripped down to my underwear, stepped into the full tub, and the ice hit bone.
Not skin, not muscle—bone. Like my skeleton was being flayed by frostbite, every nerve ending screaming as I sank lower. Hips submerged. Then ribs. My hands gripped the rim, white-knuckled. I exhaled hard through my nose.
Focus.
My breath fogged in the air, rising in pale spirals. The locker room was quiet, the low hum of fluorescent lights a steady companion. Fluids dripped somewhere behind me—another tub, another driver.
But in here, in this moment, there was only cold. And breath. And discipline.
The burn gave way to numbness. A full-body hum that wrapped around me like static. My heart slowed. I tipped my head back against the tile wall, stared at the ceiling and let the shivers come.
No thoughts. No voices. No Ross. No Heidi. No Elena.
Just breath in.
