Page 41 of Promise

Their baseball season? The summer months? The racing circuit?

“I’m back. For good.” I don’t think I realized it until the words are finally shared.

I’d told Trinity my racing career was probably over, and in many ways, it is. I’m out for the season, and I might not be able to return. But I already know one thing for certain, I’m not going back to racing without her. I won’t leave her behind again.

I’m here for my wife, and I’ll do whatever groveling I need to do to make things right between us. Between her and me.

Our marriage is a race I refuse to lose again.

When the game is over, which we won, I drink one beer at the field and head home. As much as it felt good to be part of a team again, and among my friends, their quiet still haunts me.

What if . . . I’m missing something big. Like . . . Trinity didn’t sleep with multiple men. Like she didn’t sleep with any man.

Could she have adopted Mirabelle?

It wasn’t like adoption hadn’t been an option. We’d discussed it, but Trinity was determined to have a baby from her body. We’d already lost three, though, and the last one nearly killed her.

I refused to take the risk of losing my wife. It scared me. The thought of her not in this world made me physically sick.

Then, I did the exact opposite of what I should have done. Instead of holding her closer, I pulled away. I was almost afraid to have sex with her. Afraid she’d get pregnant again. Afraid I would lose her permanently.

Instead, I lost my wife slowly over time.

I threw myself into the distraction of racing. I could control the speed, manipulate a machine, make it move the way I wanted. The adrenaline rush was fueled by intense focus. The ability to push limits and take a different risk, and win, when everything else in my life felt like I’d lost.

My wife. Our dream. My motivation.

I’d worked in construction since I was seventeen, when Russell Haven hooked me up with a family friend.

Clint Haven eventually worked for a different construction group, and I switched jobs to work with him.

My ties to the Havens tightened.

I worked with Clint. I was best friends with Tate. And I had a crush on their sister.

When their football-playing brother came home, Clint and Cort started their own business. I transferred once again.

I’d been happy for a while. Happy for them. I was a hard worker and dedicated, especially because they were family. But eventually, I felt expendable. I didn’t feel seen as a devoted part of the family, but just a member of their crew. It hurt. I didn’t need special favors. I just longed to be noticed. I was blending in, instead of standing out, and I hated the insignificance.

Russell Haven once told me I had so much potential and to use that potential wisely. I didn’t think I had been. I’d been failing at giving his daughter a baby, and I wasn’t good enough for two of his sons to bring into their fold.

I needed to rewrite the script about me. Racing became my medium.

The Chevy Camaro I’d been working on in the detached garage had been a steal. A toy for someday. I’d put racing on hold for a while, not having as much time during my new marriage and home renovation era. Plus, Trin and I wanted a family.

I didn’t think hanging at the canyon was a wise idea anymore.

But after years of tinkering with that Camaro, I got her to purr, and I wanted to test her out.

I took her to the old coal mine property, which housed a dirt track, and gave her a spin. Then another one, then another one. The drives were freeing. The disappointments disappeared for a little while.

I was my own person. Not a husband. Not a construction worker. Not a man on a sex schedule.

I was just me, and everything changed after those first few spins around the track.

Sitting in my truck staring at the empty garage, I let the memories roll through my head.

Meeting Max Larsen. Running a time trial for people he knew. Getting signed with Velocity.