“You don’t have to participate today if you don’t want to,” I assure him. “But don’t give up on your dream.” I blink, doing my best to keep the tears from falling. “Make your mom proud by keeping your dream alive.”
I don’t know if he understands what I’m telling him, but the words fall as if coming from a deep, long-ago buried place within me that’ve been dying to get out.
Alain doesn’t answer but suddenly he sits up straight, his eyes going wide as he looks at something behind me.
I turn to find Travis, dressed in his bright red racing suit, approaching us.
“You’re Travis Townsend.” Alain’s voice comes alive.
“Nice to meet you.” Travis extends his hand for Alain to shake.
I watch, wordlessly, as he crouches down in front of him and asks his name.
“Alain.”
“Amato Racing fan?”
“Of course,” he says, furiously wiping at his cheeks so Travis doesn’t see his tears, I suspect.
“Then you’re staying until Sunday to watch us win, huh?”
Alain looks from Travis to me. I nod in encouragement.
“Yes,” he finally answers.
As soon as he does, the door opens and Philo comes out, followed by the rest of the children and their escort.
“Alain, are you coming?” she calls.
He rises to his feet and high-fives Travis, who holds up his hand. Then he surprises me when he reaches out with both arms, wrapping them around my neck, and whispers in my ear, “I’m sorry about your mom and dad.”
It’s so quick that I have to wonder if I imagined it all.
Through blurred vision all I see is Alain sprinting away to catch up with his group.
Travis takes my hands into his.
“Are you oka?—”
I throw my arms around his shoulders and bury my face deep into his neck, inhaling. Emotions too thick and dark to name wash over me, but I hold tight to Travis. Somewhere, without my knowing, he’s become the person I want comfort from. The one I want to hold when I get scared.
Travis turns into my rock when he slides his arms around my waist, holding me to him. He rocks us soothingly, all while telling me it’s okay as I release the pent-up emotion.
CHAPTER 33
Travis
“Mom, you’re going to squeeze the baby out if you hug her any harder,” I say while wrapping my fingers around Alyssia’s arm.
They both laugh as they pull apart, and I don’t waste time pulling her to my side.
Where she belongs.
It’s Saturday evening. Qualifying ended a few hours ago and my parents, Alyssia, and I just finished dinner at our place.
It feels safe to call it our place since she hasn’t gone back to her France apartment since her uncles arrived, and I haven’t returned to my second apartment downstairs.
Alyssia’s uncles are now staying in her France apartment while coming in and out of Monaco for race weekend. They left a couple of hours ago.
