And there it is. The but that I knew was coming.
“I see it in you, what was in my ex-wife. You have the exact same look in your eyes that she always had—the look of flight. Hers was because she thought there was more out of life to be had than she would get with Carrick and me. She was always looking for bigger and better things, running toward what she thought that was. But you…” He shakes his head, his eyes assessing me. “You look to me more like you’re running from something rather than toward it.”
I feel winded. He can see right through me, and in this moment, I feel the most vulnerable than I ever have.
“Owen—”
He lifts a hand stopping me. “I reckon I know what you’re gonna say, and you don’t need to. All I’m asking of you is, if you don’t think you can make it for the long haul with Carrick, then leave him now. Break his heart while he can still recover from it and not years down the line when it’s too late, and he’ll never recover.”
I feel like he just punched me in the chest. I’m fighting for air.
And what do I say?
That he’s right. That I know each time watching Carrick race, my fear is growing exponentially. That one day soon, it’s going to explode and take control of me, and I’ll run from him.
That I wake up each morning, looking at Carrick’s face, knowing how weak I am. Knowing that, one day, I’ll hurt him, and I won’t be able to stop myself from doing it.
That I know I’m not good enough for Carrick, and I never will be.
“Everything okay?” Carrick’s standing by the table.
I quickly clear all emotion from my face and throw on a smile before looking up at him. I think quickly on the spot. “Of course. Your dad was just telling me some funny stories about when you were a kid.”
“Oh God.” Carrick groans, dropping into his seat. “What did you tell her, so I can quickly repair the damage you’ve done?”
“Nothing bad, son.” Owen glances at me. “Nothing for you to worry about anyway.”
I pick up my glass of wine and chug it back.
The rest of dinner passes by in a blur for me. I make sure to join in the conversation and laugh in all the right places, but all I have buzzing around my mind are Owen’s words.
We’ve just finished dessert, and I’m more than ready to leave.
“Are you staying for coffee?” Owen asks. “Or an after dinner brandy?”
“I’m okay,” I answer.
“Carrick?” Owen says.
I look at him when he doesn’t respond to his dad straight away. He’s staring at me, and I can see it in his eyes. He knows I’m not a hundred percent myself.
“You tired?” he asks me.
“A little. But you go ahead and have a drink. I don’t mind.”
He looks at me for a few seconds longer. He seems to be weighing something up in those beautiful blues of his. He pulls them from me to his dad. “No, I’m fine. Thanks, Da.”
I love it when he does that, drops the D and calls his dad Da. It’s so sweet.
“I reckon we’ll head back to the hotel now.” Carrick calls the waitress over for the bill.
“I’ll get this one, son.” His dad puts his hand out as Carrick reaches for his wallet.
“Okay. Cheers, Da.”
Owen is the only person I’ve seen Carrick let pay for anything. Must be a father-son thing.
Once the bill is settled, I get up from my seat. Carrick helps me into my coat.
“You coming back to the hotel with us?” Carrick asks Owen as we leave the restaurant.
“No, I have somewhere to be.” He nods in the direction of a waiting town car. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Was lovely spending time with you outside of work, Andi.” Owen kisses my cheek.
“You, too.” My smile is tight.
As we start walking, Carrick puts his arm around my shoulders, and I put mine around his back. His free hand takes hold of my hand, sliding his fingers through mine, holding it against his hip.
“I’m sure my dad’s got a hook-up in every country we go to—that, or he has a gambling problem.” He chuckles to himself.
“What makes you say that?”
“Ah, for at least one of the nights we’re in each country, he just always disappears off to ‘somewhere to be’ with no further explanation.”
“Has there been anyone serious since…your mum?”
“There was no one when I was a kid, none that I knew of. Then, there were a few girlfriends when I got a bit older, but his focus has always been on my racing career.”
“He loves you a lot.”
“Yeah, he does. Sometimes too much. I think he’s that way because he feels he has to make up for my mother leaving.”