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He places a soft kiss against my lips. “I mean it. You’ll be the most incredible mother. You’re generous and kind. Forgiving yet strong. The best kind of role model and the best kind of friend. Whether we only have one child or a horde of them—”
I hold out my hand. “Okay, whoa. Let’s start with Jellybean and see how it goes because the word horde just had my vagina clench in fear.”
Santiago roars with laughter, and I join him. Together on the bathroom floor, we discuss ideas related to our future horde, from ridiculous gender reveal party ideas to outrageous baby names.
But in all the craziness, there is one thing Santiago and I settle on. Together, we will raise this baby with every ounce of love we have in us.
And while Santiago has had his chance to redeem himself with racing, this is mine.
It’s time to let go of my past and actually mean it.
“Do you think he really has a chance of winning?” I look over at Noah.
The pit crew stays seated on one side of the garage, prepped and ready to go if Santiago needs a change of tires. Maya entertains Marko with a coloring book in a corner near the entrance to the suites.
James stands by the computers, calling out orders while feeding Santiago information through the team radio.
“If he lands on the podium this race, then he solidifies his first-place standing. He’ll be a World Champion again.”
Wow. I knew Santiago was good. Hell, I knew he was great. He’s spent the last two seasons working his ass off to make it on podiums. But World Championship material after his accident? Now that speaks to his talent more than my words can.
It hasn’t been an easy road to get here. Phantom pains still flare up occasionally, and he struggles some days more than others. But Santiago fights every single day to be the best at everything he can.
At racing. At marriage. At preparing to be the best father for our baby boy.
I rub my bulging belly. The diamond on my ring shines under the pit lights, reflecting a rainbow of colors on the ceiling.
I look up at the screens broadcasting the race from Santiago’s dashboard camera. He’s in second place right now, and while that will secure him points to land on the podium, it won’t make him a World Champion.
This is the last race of the season. It’s now or never for him to earn the title he has been chasing after since he came back.
Santiago hangs behind Elías, one of McCoy’s best drivers. Every move my husband makes to get around Elías’s gray car is met with resistance by the McCoy driver.
“Come on.” Noah runs a hand through his hair.
Santiago presses on the throttle. His car shoots down the straight, driving up to Elías’s side. They drive in tandem down the narrow road.
The turn comes up, and Santiago breaks a second later than Elías, giving him more speed through the turn.
Santiago pulls in front of Elías, securing the first-place spot. The garage cheers as Santiago rushes through the next straight. Elías stays in his rearview, unable to get the upper hand.
A kick in my stomach has me clutching onto Noah’s arm for stability.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh my God. The baby just kicked! For real this time, not that usual bubble feeling or fluttering.” I grab Noah’s hand and shove it against my stomach. I don’t bother
asking for permission because I need someone to confirm it’s not just my imagination.
“Oh, wow. You’ve got a little fighter.” Noah chuckles.
“Maya! Come here. The baby is kicking like he’s kung fu fighting!”
She runs over and replaces Noah’s hand with her own. “Ahh! He’s a strong one.”
I cringe when another kick lands somewhere near my bladder. “Are they always this active?”
“This is only the beginning. Santiago’s going to freak out when he realizes he missed this.” Maya frowns.
