Trinity(61)

As Reese relaxes with his eyes closed, I decide I have to put my mind at ease. I can’t wait another eight excruciating hours to find out.

I tell Reese I’m going to grab a snack before I race to the closest terminal mart. They have everything from mouthwash to maxi pads, and in the bottom corner, tucked away, I spot pregnancy tests. I just won the lottery. I grab two boxes and swipe my card, darting to the bathroom across the way. I lock myself in a handicap stall and pee on the stick, my heart beating in my chest like a high-speed round of power punches. I sit and watch the little window, every second agony.

A blue color finally starts to materialize. My stomach bottoms out as a cross, plain as day, stares back at me. I blink in disbelief. Positive. If I weren’t sitting down, I’d fall over. I pant heavily, shaken up with a cocktail of emotions. Happiness being the main one. Reese said he didn’t care if we got pregnant. Well, I hope he was serious because our life is about to change in the most drastic way. A tear escapes down my cheek as I recap the test and place it back in the box.

I hurry back to Reese, who’s completely unaware I’m about to deliver news that will forever change his life. I sit down next to him, brimming with excitement, fear, and elation.

He perks up, reading my facial expression.

“Everything all right?” He slides the headphones off his head.

I nod zealously. “At least, I think it is.” I hand him the box discreetly. His eyes widen to the size of satellites when he sees the picture on the front. “Open it.” I lean in and whisper.

Reese, with shaky fingers, opens the top tab and pulls out the test. The second he sees the plus sign, he knows, too. My secret. Our secret. The breath he expels is audible as he stares at the stick.

“What do you think?” I ask nervously.

He doesn’t reply.

“Reese?” I quickly become apprehensive. Maybe he isn’t happy. Maybe I shouldn’t have told him. Maybe it’s a mistake.

Reese places the test back in the box without a word, and I panic.

“You’re upset? It’s too soon?” My eyes water. “You said you didn’t care. That you wanted it.”

He abruptly silences me with a kiss, smashing his mouth so hard against mine that it cuts off my intake of air.

“I do want it.” His tone is hushed, laced with emotion. “But you just blindsided the shit out of me, woman.” He laughs through tears. “You didn’t even drop a hint.” He pulls away to look at me, his eyes shiny.

“I only realized it on the plane.” I take his hand and place it on my stomach. “It’s okay, right?”

“It’s so okay. More than okay.” He kisses me again, deliriously happy. Sheer jubilation surges through my system.

“I’m gonna be a daddy!” Reese stands up and screams, grabbing everyone’s attention in the terminal. I want to crawl into a hole. Why must he announce things to the entire world?? I pull him back down into his seat as people respond with congratulations.

“You’re nuts.”

“And you’re . . .” He just shakes his head and stares in awe.

“I’m what?”

“Everything. Just everything.” We kiss for what feels like hours. A new bond forming between us.

“Can you do me a favor?” I ask between enthusiastic embraces.

“Anything.” He slashes his tongue between my lips.

“Can we wait to announce it? I want to see a doctor and tell Sam in person. I don’t want our friends and family finding out through social media.” The moment I say it, I picture Dev’s face. I wonder how he’s going to take the news. I wonder what he thinks of our marriage. Reese hasn’t spoken to him since we left, and so much has changed in the last two months.

Nearly everything.

“I think that’s a good idea. I’d like to tell Dev face-to-face that he’s going to be an uncle.”

We share the same look of trepidation. We both know this news is going to affect him and not in a positive way. The way things ended will always upset me. Always haunt me. It could have been different.

I wouldn’t choose in the beginning. I wouldn’t choose in the end.

Reese wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I immediately cuddle up next to him. His body has become my safe haven.

There’s nothing left for us to do but move forward.

And we are.

Full fucking steam ahead.



We got home close to midnight. I’m usually an early riser no matter the time I fall asleep, but this morning, I feel like death. Reese got up hours ago to work out. We have four days before we have to leave again, so I plan to make the most of the time. Starting with coffee. No, not coffee. I’m pregnant. Shit. Laundry. I’ll start with laundry. The life of a motorcycle champion’s wife is so glamorous.

Knowing Reese, he’ll be gone a majority of the day. Something about dirt biking with Riley and Knight. I wasn’t listening; I wanted to sleep.

I grab my phone off the nightstand to check the time. It’s odd waking up in my own bed but gloriously familiar.

I have several text messages. One from Sam confirming lunch. Check. One from Reese bidding the baby and me good morning. Smile. And one from Tammy begging for a double date. I surmise the outlook is favorable.

I find myself grinning. I didn’t realize how much I missed being home until I actually came back.

I drag myself out of bed and empty the clothes from our suitcases. There’s enough laundry to keep me folding for a week. Lovely.

I empty Reese’s black backpack as well, the one he doesn’t go anywhere without. He usually keeps some spare clothes in there. As I dump the bag, a few shirts fall out along with a pack of gum and a pair of sunglasses. But I also hear a rattling sound. I search the bag but come up empty. What the fuck? I’m not crazy. I shake it again and blatantly hear the tink-tink-tink. Determined, I turn the book bag inside out, noticing a small tear on the inside seam. I fish my hand inside the hole and pull out two prescription bottles with Dev’s name on them.

Huh?

I read the label more closely and recognize the medication. An ACE inhibitor, which is usually prescribed to manage heart conditions. And this dose is high. Extremely high. Who is Dr. Sanders? Why would he prescribe Dev heart meds, and why does Reese have them? My head swims. What the fuck is going on?

I text Reese immediately before I throw a load of clothes in the washer. I shower quickly, opting out of doing my hair or makeup.

Reese doesn’t respond which only irritates me.

Since I’m supposed to meet Sam in a half hour, a face-to-face with Reese will just have to wait. Or will it? As I open the front door, Reese races into the driveway on his muddy dirt bike.

“Kayla?” He parks the bike, charging toward me. “Is everything all right? Your text was cryptic.”

“I’m fine,” I bite, digging in my purse to pull out the pills. “What the fuck are these?”

Reese turns white. The nickname Phantom fitting.

“Where did you get those?” he asks defensively.

“I found them in your book bag. Hidden in the lining. Why do you have Dev’s pills?” I push.

He works his jaw, his eyes jumping between my face and the amber bottles.

“Reese?” I stress.

“They’re mine,” he confesses stoically.

“Yours?” I reply perplexed. “If they’re yours, why do they have Dev’s name on them? And what doctor in his right mind would prescribe a dose so high? These are some serious meds.”

“A doctor who knows his patient is a professional motorcycle racer.”

“I don’t understand. Explain,” I demand, desperate to connect the dots.

Before Reese can utter a word, it all comes crashing together, making perfect sense. The extra “pain” pills Dev gave Reese. Why he wouldn’t let me touch them. Why he’s so tired all the time, pale, weak. The obsession with his leather bag, and why he won’t let it out of his sight.

“How sick are you?” I can barely choke out the words.

“I’m not sure. I’m supposed to see Dev while I’m here,” he divulges, not a trace of reaction on his face.

“Why do you need to see Dev?” But as I ask the question, I already know the answer. “Because he treats you.”

Reese gestures with his head. “No sponsor would ever sign a rider who wasn’t in perfect physical health, let alone one with a heart condition. My career would have been over before it even began.”

“Your career!” I erupt. “What about your body? Your demanding lifestyle is taxing it to the max. You know that, right? The strain you put on your heart could kill you!” I shout. The thought of our child growing up without a father crushes me. He was already pushing his luck with his profession. But this?

“I know!” he pops off. “And I don’t care! I have nothing else to live for! It’s my life! I can’t walk away!” he screams at me like he’s possessed.

“You have nothing else to live for?” The tears well in seconds. “What about me? And our child? And our future? They’re all things you wanted, Reese. All things you pushed for.”

“Kayla, that’s not what I meant. I do want all those things.” He takes a distressed step toward me. “That came out completely wrong.”

“No, it didn’t.” I back away. “It’s exactly how you feel. Dev told me nothing would be more important to you than racing, and he was right.”