Page 61 of Break My Heart

“Because you weren’t,” she murmurs.

“And before long, I was in a kart.”

Christin smiles knowingly. “You found out you were good, I presume?”

I huff a laugh. “Not hardly. I crashed into a tyre barrier on my second lap. Then I whined because they wouldn’t let me back on the track immediately.”

She laughs, and the sound causes goose bumps to rise up along my skin. It’s been too long since I heard the beauty of her laugh. “That sounds more like the Leo I know.”

Because I don’t want the moment to pass, I wait until her laughter subsides before adding quietly, “For the first time in my life, I’d found something that wasn’t reliant upon my family. And every moment after that, I earned.”

I recall the karting championships, junior series, podiums—all of which Felicity and Ian were there for. None of which my family attended. Then…” My voice trails off.

“What is it?”

“By the time I’d achieved significance in Formula Two, the local papers had begun taking an interest. I’d had a decent season, and one of them ran a feature about me.”

“What happened?”

“My father read it. I clearly remember how my life imploded. I came home for Sunday lunch. I can still see it. The polished oak table in the dining room. My brother, Albert, seated at Father’s right side. His wife beside him. Their little boy laughing over something. I thought...I honestly thought he might finally be proud of me.”

Christin’s hand slips over mine and squeezes. I meet her eyes. “He waited until dessert. Congratulated me on the article. And then he said, ‘If you insist on wasting your life chasing motorsports, you’ll do so without another penny from this family.’ Told me I’d embarrassed the Hawthorne name long enough.”

“What did you do?”

“I stood up, wished everyone a pleasant afternoon. Then I walked out.”

“You never went back?”

I shake my head. “And they’ve never initiated contact.”

“How old were you?”

“Eighteen with just enough prize money to rent a tiny flat and enough savings to continue training. Then, fate brought me to Dario.”

I pause to let my words settle before I go on. “Maybe if I’d told you about this sooner, maybe I wouldn’t have carried those scars forward into our relationship.”

She carefully pulls her hand back. Hesitantly, she asks, “You really didn’t mean what you said to Dario?”

“No.”

“It was awful to hear.”

“I know.”

I shift my weight, edging a fraction closer. “You’re right. The way I spoke about you is something I’m going to regret for the rest of my life.”

“How can I believe that?” Christin whispers achingly.

“You can’t. Not right now. It’s my duty to show you.” I stare straight into her eyes and declare, “Going forward, expect me to spend every day making amends.”

“Even knowing I won’t commit to anything between us?” Her voice reflects the pain I’ve now both felt and dispersed. “I can’t make any promises, Leo.”

“Even then. Especially then.”

I’m uncertain about her response until she murmurs, “I wasn’t exactly forthcoming myself.”

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