The ‘good work’ of tearing myself in two because of one rider who meant too much to me. The person who made me question what I wanted, even though he had no right. This was a moment I’d waited months for, but my mind was in so many places at once, I was struggling to care.
I somehow managed to respond to Bill as I ended the call. ‘Uh, thanks. Bye.’
The commentator’s words had merged into a buzz as I let the phone fall from my ear. I saw Tony first, grabbing a swannie and gesturing wildly towards a light pole off to one side. At the base of the pole, my gaze found him.
Colin was slumped, half-sprawled on a traffic island, legs akimbo, one gloved hand lying limp between his thighs. His jersey was unzipped to his belly button to reveal the strap of the heartrate monitor – and the dramatic hollow of his diaphragm as his breath heaved. His skin was shiny with sweat, the sun glinting off every sharp furrow.
But the most arresting sight was his face: eyes closed, jaw clamped, the dusty outline on his cheeks from where his sunglasses had sat. It was a look of defeat that I felt in my lungs – in my gut, myheart.
Two swannies were with him now, getting recovery fluids into him as he only half-heartedly participated. Draping his arms over their shoulders, the assistants hauled him to his feet, his wobbly legs unsteady. He looked like 207 km – that was 130 miles.
But the swannies were dragging him into the media area, where a crowd of cameras was waiting for him to talk about how he lost the stage. My stomach lurched and I had to press my knuckles to my mouth to suppress the nausea – and the tears.
God, I hated this.What have you done, Colin?
I wasn’t only talking about the stage.
Chapter 31
Colin
I wasn’t sure what I regretted most and who I wanted to see least: Dad, the guys or Leesa. No, actually I still wanted to see Leesa, even though it might feel like bleeding. She’d want answers and I didn’t have any.
Why did I join the breakaway?I was feelin’ trigger-happy and thinking about that dress of yours with the split up one leg.
Why did I flip her off in Strasbourg and give her a wink from the ice bath instead of just smiling like a normal person?Because I’m annoyed you’re leaving me and I’m annoyed that I’m annoyed.
Was I okay?No idea. Probably not.
I shoved in a pair of earbuds and zoned out while Chris, one of the longest-serving swannies and an old friend of my dad’s, gave my tortured legs a thorough massage. I felt like a diva to be ignoring him, but he must have seen it all before, because he didn’t look at my face, just calmly rubbed at my seizing muscles.
I was nobody’s hero today.
Whenever my eyes opened a crack, I saw my phone, where it sat on the bedside table, and then I’d start wondering if she’d texted me. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it and snatched the device up, only to find that I had no messages. Zero.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. Dad would chew me out in person and nobody else was interested in the day I’d had. Even the combativity award for the most attacking rider of the day had gone to one of the other guys in the breakaway.
Since I was messed up anyway, nothing stopped me from punching out a provoking message:How’s your narrative?
I leaned my head back against the wall with a thunk and tried to tell myself I wasn’t waiting for her reply.
‘What’s upset you more? The Tour? Or the girl?’
Tempted to pretend I hadn’t heard Chris, I eventually sighed and popped out my earbuds. I wanted to talk about Leesa. Ialwayswanted to talk about her.
‘Don’t tell Dad,’ I began, which made Chris chuckle.
‘The girl, right? She’s finally given you the time of day?’
‘Just barely,’ I said with unexpected heat in my chest. ‘It’s more than I deserve.’
‘I’d say, after everything you did to her over the years.’
And over the past month…
There was a knock at the door, which was disappointing, just when I’d been warming up to the idea of letting my thoughts about Leesa gush out. I assumed it was Dad, which sent another pang of guilt squeezing in my gut.
‘Are you decent?’
