There are a hundred things I’d give up for Addie. Work, lifestyle, racing, my house, cars, my business. I’d move halfway across the world if she asked. I’d do so fucking much to give us a fighting chance, but everyone has their limit.
Putting a cross through starting a family is mine.
“Talk to me,” Addie utters, sitting down beside me. “Tell me what’s going on...” She moves her hand to the back of my head, gently scraping my scalp. “What are you thinking?”
I lift my head, meeting her teary eyes and hope comes from out of fucking nowhere to flood my system. “Did you mean the other thing you told your dad?”
Tonight wasn’t the first time she’s boldly stated that marriage and kids have no place in her life, but... a drowning man will grasp any straw. Asking the question and hearing the answer can’t hurt me more than I’m already hurting.
And I’d rather regret checking than never asking.
“About marriage and kids,” I add.
Ten seconds pass before she reacts. Recognition flashes in her eyes and they lose their glow, turning dull as she drops her hand, inching away from me.
“I meant it.” Her voice wobbles as she nervously pinches the hem of her skirt. “I guess you’re on the other side of the fence.”
I nod as a noose wraps itself around my throat andpuffgoes hope. “I’ve watched my brothers start families. Cody was the last to join the club. He married Blair two years ago, but they’ve been together longer. With every engagement, wedding, or pregnancy announcement, I’ve wanted a family of my own that much more, but the years flash by and it’s never my turn.” It’s involuntary by now... kissing her head.
One, two, and a third for good measure.
God, she feels so fucking good in my arms. She was made for me. This is where she belongs...
Maybe in a different lifetime.
“Three years ago, I was fine. I was only twenty-four, so there was no pressure on the family front, but it was getting harder to sit through my parents’ get-togethers, listening to my brothers sharing their news. One night, Mom was hosting a BBQ, and Cody made it clear I shouldn’t miss it. I was in a particularly foul mood that night, and instead of getting there on time, I got Curly to fix up another race.”
Addie stirs, arching away to look at me, but doesn’t interrupt, silently waiting for more.
“The guy I raced lost control and bumped the back of my car at north of a hundred and twenty miles an hour.”
I move her to sit beside me and get up, standing in the open balcony door with a cigarette in my mouth. Inhaling a cloud of smoke, I stare at the horizon. I’ve never told anyone about that night. I don’t think I’ll get the words out if I look Addie dead in the eye. It’s personal.
“I remember heading toward the Dodge RAM parked on the sidelines, feeling so fucking disappointed. Not scared—Disappointedbecause I hadn’t lived yet. I hadn’t been happy, but I was about to die.” I scoff, taking another drag. “I did die. For four minutes and eleven seconds.”
Addie shifts on the bed, then slowly gets up and crosses the room to where I stand. As if she’s afraid I’ll push her away, she cautiously slides closer, then wraps her arms around me and cuddles her cheek to the spot where my heart thumps.
“Why are you racing again?”
I throw one arm around her and mold her further into me, memorizing how she feels when she’s close.
Memorizing howIfeel.
Calm.
Composed.
I’d risk happy, but I’m far from that right now.
“I spent six months in physiotherapy, and once I was up and running, I was on a mission to find someone I could spend my life with. Someone to come home to. I went on hundreds of first dates, but nothing came of it. A year after the accident, I was still where I started. Alone.” I pinch the ash off my cigarette, taking one last drag before I butt it out in the ashtray. “I never found anything that let me catch a break like racing does, so I went back.”
She’s silent for a long time, but it’s not uncomfortable. Nothing is with Addie. Being with her is as natural as breathing.
“I don’t want this to end,” she whispers, holding me tighter.
Buthangs in the air, unspoken. There’s no point stating the obvious. We know where we stand.
Fuck. This is it. We’re done. Over. The end.
