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His mother hugged him tight. ‘He understood.’
‘Then he’s a better man than I am.’
‘You were only sixteen when we married—a difficult age at the best of times.’
‘I think I resented him because he was around when Dad just never had been.’
‘Your father took his responsibilities seriously, Valentino. His problem was that he’d grown up in a cold household and didn’t know how to express love. He didn’t know how to show you that he loved you, but he was torn. That morning...’ She stopped, swallowed. ‘We’d been talking a lot about him retiring leading up to that awful race, and I think that had he survived he would have quit.’
‘I overheard you both talking about it that morning.’
His mother closed her eyes briefly. ‘Then you must blame me for his death. For putting him off his race.’
Her voice quavered and Tino rushed to reassure her. ‘No. Certainly not. Honestly, I blamed Dad for trying to have it all. I think, if anything, I was just upset that you hadn’t tried to stop him.’
His mother pulled back and gave him a wistful smile. ‘It is what it is. We are each defined by the choices that we make for good and bad. And it wasn’t an easy decision for your father to make. He had sponsors breathing down his neck, the team owner, his fans. He did his best, but fate had other ideas.’ She paused. ‘But life goes on, and I’ve been lucky enough to find love not once, but twice in my life. I hope you get to experience the same thing at least once. I hope all of my children do.’
Jamming his hands in his pockets, Tino wished he could jam a lid on the emotions swirling through his brain.
Damn Miller. She had been right. He had been angry with his mother all this time. ‘I’m sorry. Thank you for telling me.’
He caught a movement in his peripheral vision and saw Tom, his stepfather, about to head back inside, his expression clearly showing that he didn’t want to interrupt.
Valentino beckoned him and Tom approached, putting his arm around his wife, love shining brightly in his eyes. ‘I didn’t want to interrupt.’
Tino drew in a long, unsteady breath. ‘Tom...’ He searched for a way to thank this man he had previously disdained for loving his mother and always being there for him and his siblings.
Tom inclined his head in a brief nod. ‘We’re good.’
Tino felt a parody of a smile twist his mouth. He nodded at Tom, kissed his mother’s cheek and left them to admire the view.
The urge to throw down a finger of whisky was intense. So was the need to find Miller.
Tino did neither.
Instead, he took the lift to the ground floor and hailed a cab to the only place he’d ever found real peace.
His car.
The tight security team at the Albert Park raceway were surprised to see him, but no one stopped him from entering.
Not ever having been in the pits this late at night, he was surprised with how eerie it felt. Everything was deadly quiet. The monitors were off, the cars tucked away under protective cloth. The air was still, with only a faint trace of gasoline and rubber.
He threw the protective covering off his car, pulled the steering wheel out and climbed in. His body immediately relaxed into the bucket seat designed specifically to fit his shape. The scent of moulded plastic and polish was instantly soothing.
After re-fixing the steering wheel, he did an automatic pre-race check on the buttons and knobs.
Then he thought of his father and the times he’d watched him do the same thing, remembering the connection they had shared.
He released a long breath, realising that he had always felt superior to his father because he’d kept everyone at a safe distance. He’d believed it to be one of his great strengths, but maybe he’d been wrong.
A faint memory flickered at the edges of his mind, and he let his head fall back, stared unseeing at the high metal ceiling. What was his mind trying to tell him...? Oh, yeah—his father had once told him that when love hit you’d better watch out, because you didn’t have any say in the matter. You just had to go for it.
Tino’s hands tensed around the steering wheel. His father hadn’t been weak, as he’d assumed, he’d been strong. He’d dared to have it all. Okay, he’d made mistakes along the way, but did that make him a bad person?
In a moment of true clarity, Tino realised that he was little more than an arrogant, egotistical shmuck. One who didn’t dare love because he was afraid to open himself up to the pain he had experienced at losing his father.
