Page 99 of Promise

“I’d say we are a work in progress, but one that’s progressing, and working for us.”

Genie smiles. “I like that.”

“Me too,” I say, before adding. “And I’d definitely like to have sex with him again. Does that count for something?”

Vale glances at Genie, who only laughs. “Well, that’s one way of working things out. Together.”

I laugh, settling in my seat, telling myself to stop thinking so much.

“Okay, enough about me. This is Mom’s Night Out.”

“That’s right, girl,” Genie leans toward the backseat to give me a high-five. “Welcome to the club.”

A new club with old friends.

I’m going to like it here.

29

[Dart]

Mirabelle is easy, like I knew she would be. That doesn’t mean she’s perfect. She cried for an entire hour after Trinity left. We went from pacing the house, to pacing the yard, to turning on black and white, hard rock videos from the 90s, which mesmerized her. When she finally took a bottle and went to sleep, I held her longer than necessary, enjoying the peace and comfort of her against my chest. Eventually, I set her down in the bassinet in Trinity’s room, where she starts each night. I have the baby monitor app on my phone now as well, and I constantly check my phone’s screen for the air temperature in the bedroom, Mirabelle’s breathing rhythm, and her position in the bassinet.

Eventually, I turn on the television, randomly scrolling until I come across a list of recorded events.

Dart_Feb

Dart_May

Dart_July

The list spans three years. Three years of my races.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper, staring at the screen, disbelief swirling inside me before my chest swells.

She was following me. She followed my career. The ups and downs. That’s how she knew I’d had accidents prior to the last one. She’d been keeping tabs, or keeping up, or just . . . still interested in what I was doing. In me.

Maybe she hadn’t been there. Maybe she didn’t agree with my racing decision, but she’d been curious enough to watch me. To keep a record of it. Maybe, just maybe, she silently supported me.

Because she still cared about me.

I scrub a hand down my face, recalling our kiss from before she left. It was bold of me to ask and even bolder to want something deeper than a soft brush of our lips. I wanted to imprint myself on her, hoping she’d remember me while she was out with her girls.

And yet, this moment confirms that she never forgot me.

Maybe she didn’t think of me as often as I thought of her, but she still thought about me once in a while. Not just once a year when I sent her flowers on our anniversary. But other days, other months, during the racing season.

She’d been in the corner, quiet and distant, but still somehow present.

My hand trembles as I lift the remote and click on the first race.

I watch with rapture at how I take each turn, listening to the announcer’s comment.

A late entry.

A rising star.

One to watch.