Trinity(63)

But what’s done is done. So either accept it or keep walking. We’re married, and it’s going to stay that way.

I hope.

Before Sam can shoot back a catty response, a weary looking Kayla walks through the front door.

We both straighten for different reasons. Me, apprehensive, Sam, pissed off.

“Where have you been?” Sam demands right off the bat.

Kayla’s tired gaze jumps between us. “I . . . I was with Dev.”

Both Sam and I share the same bewildered look, again for different reasons.

“What is going on, Kayla? You are married now.” Her tone is accusing.

“It’s not what you think. I just needed to talk to someone.” She steals a look at me.

“You can talk to me.” Sam steps forward, her steely resolve wavering.

I just stand there, eyeing Kayla, my ailing heart shrinking rapidly. She was with Dev. Troublesome thoughts get the better of me. Now that she knows the truth, she’s running right back to him. I mask my despondency as my core combat response surfaces. I know how much she loves Dev. It may be more than she loves me. They’ve always had a stronger emotional connection. Regardless, I’m not letting her go. If Dev wants her, he’ll have to fight for her. She’s my wife, and that’s my child. And I don’t give up what’s mine so easily.

“I know I can.” Kayla takes Sam’s hands. “But who I really need to talk to right now is Reese.” She pleads with her eyes.

They communicate silently, Sam surrendering to Kayla’s request.

“Tomorrow,” Sam stipulates sternly. “I get you all day. No ifs, ands, or buts. I’m taking the day off work, and we’re going to talk. About everything.”

“Yes, everything.” Kayla places her hand on her stomach, and Sam’s face falls.

“A baby?”

Kayla nods slightly. “Jesus, child, you drive me crazy.” Sam pulls Kayla into her arms and locks her in a death grip.

“I don’t mean to, I swear,” Kayla hugs her back tightly. Like she’s her only lifeline.

Sam vacates the house the same way she entered it. Commandingly and authoritatively.

Once she’s gone, all that’s left is me, Kayla, and a steaming shitload of unresolved issues.

I stare blankly at Kayla, unsure what to say next. I just keep replaying the minister’s words in my head. “The vows you take this morning cannot be broken with impunity. Your connection is as strong as the thread that sews you together. What is the material made of? String? Wire? Steel? Only the two of you can decide.”

What is our material made of? Is it strong like steel or fragile like string?

I’m afraid to ask, terrified it’s as breakable as a fraying piece of string. Terrified I’m going to hear the words I dread. That it’s over, she’s leaving, and taking our child with her.

That in the end, I’m going to die, pitiful and alone.

“How long have you known?” Kayla breaks the silence, distraught.

“I found out when I was twenty-two.” I clear my throat uncomfortably. This is difficult to talk about. Especially with so much on the line. “I started getting tired really easily at first. Then the fainting spells started. I passed out on the track right in the middle of a race. Skidded across the pavement, took out a half of dozen racers, and then slammed into a tyre wall. You can watch it on YouTube if you want.”

“No, thanks.” She doesn’t even entertain the idea.

“Anyway, they had to take me out on a stretcher. Luckily, it was just brushed off as a routine rider error, but I knew the truth. Something was seriously wrong. So I went to Dev. He had just started medical school. We agreed, as a precaution, I would use his name to see a private doctor. After I received the diagnosis, it all snowballed from there.”

“Eight years? You have been abusing your heart for eight years?” She expels an anguished breath.

“Racing was my life. I couldn’t give it up. No matter what. No matter how sick I got. I would have rather died on a race track than anyplace else.”

“I kinda got that.”

“I know you’re upset.”

“I don’t think upset really covers it,” she responds callously.

All my defenses go up. “Are you going to leave me, Kayla?” I brace myself before blurting out my worst fear. Why prolong the inevitable? I’d rather just rip the bandage off right here right now, so I know what I’m up against.

“Is that what you want, Reese?”

“No.” I look her dead in the eye. “Why would you even ask that?”

“Because you set our relationship up for failure. You lied to me from the moment we met,” her voice elevates.

“Don’t take it personally. I lie to everyone. My entire existence is a universe of lies. I’ve been running from my past and my future for as long as I can remember.” I seize her arms. “You’re the only thing that makes me want to stop running.”

“How are you going to do that?” she challenges. “Are you going to walk away from everything you know? Stop racing? Live a quiet, normal life?” She’s skeptical, and she has every right to be.

“Quiet and normal? No, that’s not me.” I smile sadly. “But I’m willing to look for adventure someplace else. With you. The two of you.” I splay my hand over her stomach.

“Don’t get my hopes up, Reese.” She grips my wrist. “If you don’t want this, if there is any doubt . . . don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She’s deadly serious.

“I’ve let a lot of people down in my life, Kayla. I’m determined not to let you be one of them. You’re the one thing I’m going to do right.”

She breathes heavily, wishing every word true.

“So if you do stop racing,” she tests the waters, “where do we go from there?”

Her question sparks some hope.

“One last race,” I disclose optimistically.

“The next one? Indianapolis?” she questions.

“No. Isle of Man.”

“What is that?” she inquires hesitantly.

“It’s the ultimate street race. It’s been on my bucket list for years. And if I have to stop, I want it to be my last.”

“Not if, Reese. You have to stop. Or you will let me down. Because you’ll be dead.” Her statement is ferocious.

“I’m not going anywhere without a fight.” I step closer to her, eradicating the distance between us. I despise it, and I want it gone.

“I think that’s what scares me the most. Your willingness to put liens on your body it can’t withstand.”

“I’m going to fight to live, baby,” I assure her confidently. “No lien is too great. Change my lifestyle, change my fate.”

“It’s that simple, huh?”

“Why does it have to be hard?”

“Because people don’t change.”

“Yes, they do. I’m proof.”

“You haven’t changed anything,” she points out.

“I’ve changed everything,” I strongly oppose. “I’m married, and I have a baby on the way. I never wanted that. And now, all I can think about is a single-family home with one bed I wake up in every morning and go to sleep in every night. No more nomad life.”

“Reese, I want to believe you.” The doubt is evident. “But what happens when you start to miss it? Miss the glamor, and fast pace, and adrenaline rush? I know how much you love it. I’ve seen you thrive. I’m afraid you’re going to end up resenting us.”

“That’s preposterous, Kayla.” I secure her face with both hands. That beautiful face I want to see every day while we grow old. I want her to believe me beyond a shadow of a doubt. “I’ve had an amazing career. I have no regrets, but it has to end sometime. And take it from a man who has lived his entire life on the edge. You are the ultimate adrenaline rush.”

She searches my face with tears in her eyes. I know she’s looking for the chink. The fissure of doubt in my features. But she won’t find it because it isn’t there. This is what I want. Her, our child, and a brand new start. I’m ready. So fucking ready. “We said I do, so let’s fucking do it.” I shake her enthusiastically.

Kayla breaks down, laughing through her uncertainty. It’s a consoling sound.

“Okay, Reese.” She gives in. “Let’s fucking do it.”





My life has yet again taken another one hundred eighty-degree turn. In a matter of days, Reese resigned from professional racing, citing personal issues. Then turned around to find a private sponsor to fund his ride for the Isle of Man Tourist Trophy. Effortlessly, they stood up a mobile garage on the tiny island located on the other side of the Atlantic. What Reese neglected to tell me about the Isle of Man TT is that it’s the most dangerous street race on the planet.

For two weeks, the island shuts down its busiest streets so racers can careen through and around narrow, potholed roads, buildings, trees, and heaven help me, stone walls. This is not a Maryland street race. This is serious shit, and I’ve been nauseous from nerves since the moment we arrived.

The Isle of Man is beautiful. Located between England and Ireland, it has a little bit of everything: lush landscapes, a rugged coastline, medieval castles, and a mountainous center. It’s a portrait of the most beautiful gothic tale. And although I like visiting, I will be happy to go home. I’m looking forward to some normalcy. Buying a house like we planned and decorating a nursery. That’s my idea of adventure.