Page 126 of Promise

I wish.

With my arm around Trin, I squeeze her against me. “I do feel special, baby.” I kiss her temple again. “Because you love me.”

She hasn’t said it. She doesn’t have to. I know she loves again. Or never stopped loving me, just as I never stopped loving her.

And that is more special than anything in this world.

“I do love you, Dart.”

Stunned by the admission, I pull back, staring at her face. “I love you, too, baby,” I say, caught up in the moment.

My girl. Our love. The race.

The green flag drops, and I tighten my hold on Trinity.

Go time.

“But sometimes love alone isn’t enough,” she says.

I turn toward her again, my heart sinking to my booted feet. “What?”

My brain pings from the excitement of the race, and the revelation of our feelings put into words, to sudden dread in my gut.

“What are you saying?” I yell back at her, knowing this isn’t the time or place to have a deep conversation. It’s suddenly too loud, too hard to think. I don’t know if the fog in my ears is the cars whizzing past us or the whooshing of my pulse.

Trinity cups my jaw and leans toward me, kissing the corner of my mouth.

“I’m gonna go home, but I want you to stay.”

I’m pinned in place, too stunned to move. Like watching a bad crash in slow motion and not knowing how to respond as an observer.

Or worse, being the driver. Knowing you need to get out of the flames, but you’re suddenly so cold inside, you don’t feel the heat. You’re stuck in this time warp of rippling speed flipping to lazy, curling rolls, like moving through mud.

Trinity slips past me before her words and actions register. She hastily weaves between latecomers who are clambering up to their seats, or stalled on the stairs, taking in the first minutes of the race.

Fuck. “Trin,” I holler as she bops through the mayhem.

I start after her, fruitlessly calling her name, knowing she can’t possibly hear me over the thunderous roar.

She gets farther and farther away from me, the crowd almost moving her forward while holding me back. Eventually, she reaches the tunnel entrance and disappears, like she’s been swallowed.

I continue rushing after her, apologizing as I press forward, pushing people aside, until I reach the tunnel as well.

I swear I’d recognize Trinity anywhere. Find her in a crowd of faceless people. Sense her in the myriad mayhem. But I can’t see around or over or through the jam of race fans in the concourse.

I’ve lost my wife.

And this time, I worry it’s forever.

36

[Trinity]

Attending the race was the last thing I wanted to do, but Dart had invited me. He asked me to be there for him, and I wanted to. I really wanted to. I wanted to understand what Dart loved. Wanted to witness what brought him such joy.

But triggers were going off inside me like the warning lights on a dashboard. Ones that I can’t interpret but somehow know mean danger.

That probably, as in Dart’s career was probably over flipped through my head on repeat. Because on the other side of probably over, was probably not.