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Moto by M. Never (29)

I pace Kayla’s condo, crumbling one tiny piece at a time.

I have called and texted until my fingers bled with no reply. All I keep seeing is that devastated look in her eyes. The betrayal and the hurt. She’s right; I married her under false pretenses because I was afraid. I’m always afraid. Afraid of losing everything and becoming nothing. Without Kayla, I’m nothing. I feel the deterioration already setting in from just our brief separation.

I breathe her the way I breathe racing. The two have become one. A single entity.

A provisional piece of perfection.

But I know better than anyone, perfection doesn’t last. It’s a passing moment, a heartbeat in time.

A knock on the front door has me sprinting to answer it. “Kayla?”

“No, not Kayla.” Sam is standing on the other side. Arms crossed, a perturbed look on her face. “She didn’t show for lunch.”

She pushes past me into the condo. “Have any idea where she might be?”

“I don’t. But I wish I did.” I follow her into the kitchen.

“Trouble in paradise already?” she asks affronted.

I grind my teeth. “A bit of a lover’s quarrel,” I extend. The last thing I want is to get anyone else involved in my personal matters. At least until Kayla and I can smooth things over. If she ever comes back. I boot the niggling thought away.

“Isn’t this supposed to be the honeymoon phase?” It’s clear Sam isn’t happy about our shotgun wedding.

“We’re human. We fight.”

“Uh-huh,” she replies unconvinced. Sam’s resemblance to Kayla is uncanny. It’s like looking twenty years into the future.

“Do you have an opinion? Or are you just going to stand there and make passive-aggressive comments?”

Sam’s dark eyes sharpen. “Kayla is my niece, and this is her house, so I can do whatever the hell I want. And if I feel like making passive-aggressive comments at the man she just up and married, I will.”

“Well, Kayla is my wife, which means I have all the same liberties. So if you don’t want to play nice, leave a note and get the hell out. Because I’m not going anywhere.” Look, I get she’s pissed. Sam’s animosity is warranted. She was never a fan of Kayla being in a relationship with me and Dev. But she has no idea what transpired between the three of us. No idea about the love we shared or the heartbreak Kayla endured. Sam raised her, and she feels entitled. I empathize. Now that I’m going to become a father, the responsibility is all I can think about. The protection and my duty to keep that child safe. And its mother.

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 a 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? Austin?” 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.”