Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“Why?”
“Because I was just transitioning from rally into open-wheel and I knew I couldn’t give her what she deserved. Not then. I chose racing over her.”
Carlos studies me. “And then she ended up with Lance.”
“Yeah. And I didn’t say a word. Figured maybe she was better off. At least he was stable. Settled. I buried it. All of it.”
He gives me a dry smile. “You ever think she picked him because you weren’t an option?”
That hits harder than I expected. “Yeah. I think about it all the time, especially now that I know he abused her. Did I drive her to that?”
“No, you didn’t. She’s an adult and made her own decisions.” Carlos rubs a hand over his jaw. “So now she’s here. Free. And you’re still asking if it’s the right time?”
“I’m asking if it’s fair. She’s still untangling herself from years of shit. And I’m dragging her into something that could blow up our whole lives. Our families are so interwoven, it complicates the shit out of things. I’m sure everyone can get past what Lance did to her. I mean, it won’t be the same… but I know my parents will forgive him. I know at some point, Lara will too, and while future family get-togethers will probably never happen, everyone will pick up the pieces and move on.”
“But if you’re with Lara…” Carlos leaves the thought dangling, ready for me to fill in my worst worry.
“Then I don’t see how our families will cope. Just imagine a big dinner at my parents’ house and I bring Lara. Lance probably wouldn’t even come, or if he did, it would be like shoving it in his face.”
“Do you care about that?”
“Fuck no,” I growl. “I’d like to shove my fist in his face. While my parents and Lara will forgive him and move on, I won’t. So, where does that leave our families? It would blow everything up if we’re together.”
Carlos shrugs. “Then it blows up. You rebuild something better.”
I snort. “You’re saying to just let it explode?”
“I’m saying quit worrying about the what-ifs and worry about keeping Lara because that’s the most important thing right now.”
I throw my hands out in frustration. “See, that’s just it. Is this something that we should be doing right now? It’s timing, mate. I mean, for fuck’s sake, we have a race in a few hours, and I’ve got my head all twisted over this.”
“Fuck timing,” Carlos says, an uncharacteristic use of the f-bomb from him. “I’m going to tell you a story because I know a little something about timing and regrets.”
Carlos shoves his hands in his pockets. “There was a girl once. Argentina. I was there for a few weeks between test sessions. We had this… thing. You know, the kind you don’t plan, but you feel it in your bones. Like the world narrowed down to just her.”
I blink. “What was her name?”
“Isadora,” he says with a fond but regretful smile. “She asked me to stay. Meet her family. Maybe travel south with her before I went back to Europe. I said no. I had commitments. Thought maybe I’d catch her next time the stars aligned.”
He pauses, gives me a very pointed look that says You better pay attention. “But life’s not a calendar. She moved on. Got married last year. I saw it on Instagram—she was glowing. And I’m happy for her, really. But…”
He shrugs, a little too slowly. “I had my shot. I didn’t take it. Been thinking ever since—maybe that was my chance, and I just let it go.” Carlos claps me on the shoulder. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who wants to live with maybes, Reid. So don’t.”
Someone whistles and we both turn toward the Union Jack garage. One of the engineers is waving Carlos over. He holds up one finger in return, asking for a moment.
“Point is,” Carlos drawls, as he pushes off the side of the hospitality truck, “you never get to control the timing. You only get to decide what’s worth jumping for.”
My throat tightens. “And if I screw it up?”
Carlos grins at me. “You might. But at least you won’t be sitting here ten years from now wondering what would’ve happened if you’d just said fuck it and gone all in. I know what that’s like, and it isn’t good.”
I let that sink in, heart pounding with something close to fear—but also clarity.
“Catch you on the track,” he says and starts to turn away.
“You’re kind of a philosopher, you know that, right?” I call out.
Carlos cranes his neck to look back at me. “Don’t tell anyone. I’ve got a brand to protect.”
We both laugh and then he’s gone. As much as I enjoyed our conversation and he put things into perspective for me, I have to push it all aside and prepare for the race.