Page 91 of Break My Heart

We move out of the garage, away from the noise, into a stretch of the paddock just removed enough for us to talk without being overheard.

Dario leans back against the wall, arms crossing. “What’s really wrong?”

I exhale slowly, pushing a hand through my hair. “Being back here.”

“Silverstone?”

“Close enough.”

That’s all I need to say. He gets it. Of course he does. After all, this track is where I first met him. “Did you—” he starts to ask, then stops himself. “No. You wouldn’t have reached out to them.”

“No,” I say. “I haven’t and I won’t.”

He nods once in understanding.

I stare past him, jaw tightening slightly. “I could drive there—to Ashbourne Vale. Twenty minutes. Bet the roads haven’t changed unless they added a new roundabout.”

“But?”

“What’s the point? Nothing’s changed. What would I even expect if I saw them?”

I don’t need Dario to reply. I already know the answer from my memories.

At fourteen, I’m standing in a room that feels too large for how small I feel in it.

My father doesn’t raise his voice. He never does. That would assume he feels something other than disappointment. Instead, he looks at me like I’ve already failed.

“Second again? Your scores dropped,” he says, glancing down at the paper in his hand like it’s something mildly inconvenient.

“I—” I want to tell him it was by a fraction of a point, but I don’t get the chance.

He cuts in. “You were top of the Year Nines. Now you’re not. What is there to explain about that?”

I swallow, hands curling at my sides. “I thought⁠—‍”

“There’s your problem.” The words are flat. “Thinking instead of performing.”

My mother doesn’t look at me. Instead, her voice adds to his, “You’ll never amount to anything if you can’t show superiority.”

“Second is forgettable,” my father remarks.

“Father—”

“We’re done here.”

I blink away the memory and return to the present. “I stayed away for a reason, and that reason still exists.”

Dario watches me with a somber expression. “I know.”

“Even though they tossed me out, I’m no longer the man who accepts that nothing I do is enough.”

“You’re right.” He pauses, then reminds me, “There are a lot of people who believe in you, Leo.”

Immediately, Christin’s face flashes into my mind. “And I’m grateful for that. Truly.”

“Then why are you letting them taint a world they don’t belong in?”

“I still feel like I have something to prove,” I admit.