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)
“When we made it clear we were siding with you,” Graham says, “that what he did was unacceptable—he got defensive. Said it wasn’t our place. That it was between the two of you and no one else.”
I nod, not surprised. My mom reaches over and pats my hand to show her support.
“He wants to talk to you,” Leanne adds gently. “But I suggested that he needs to give you space.”
I let out a small breath through my nose. “Thank you for that.”
“I told him only when you’re ready,” Leanne says, her gaze kind. “That it was up to you to decide if there was anything worth saying. He didn’t like it, but he heard me.”
The room falls quiet again. The support around me feels like a warm net, holding me steady. But at the center of it all is still this broken piece—this man I once thought I loved and the pain he chose to cause.
“Thank you,” I say, looking at them both. “For confronting him. For not looking away.”
“You’re family,” Graham says, his tone thick with emotion. “Always have been.”
“We’ll always love him,” Leanne says. “But we’re not going to excuse him. And we’re not going to stop loving you either.”
I heave out a sigh, glancing around the table. “I just don’t want this to break up your friendships.”
My dad and Graham exchange a look but it’s my dad who says, “What happened between you and Lance has nothing to do with our friendships. We’ve all talked about it. We can all unilaterally condemn Lance’s actions and respect each other for it. Just like Graham and Leanne can still love their son, despite what he did, and we respect them for it. Lara… none of this is on you.”
Lance’s parents nod vigorously in agreement. It takes everything in me not to break apart from gratitude. I reach out, offering Graham and Leanne each a hand, which they willingly accept, squeezing mine in return. “I know this is messy. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” my mum says firmly. “You made the brave choice.”
“And is Lance here at the race today?” I ask, our hands releasing.
“Yes,” Graham says. “But we’ve asked him to give you space and he will.”
Plus, I know he’s not allowed here in the Matterhorn suite, so I won’t have to confront him at all. The last knots of tension ease within my chest.
“Ms. Candlish?”
I turn toward the voice, see a Matterhorn employee standing there. “Yes?”
The young man smiles. “Reid asked me to see if you and the family would like to watch the race from the garage. You’d be on a headset and have a monitor view. You’d be right in the thick of it.”
My eyes widen. “Really?” I then turn back to the parents. “Do you want to?”
Graham chuckles and shakes his head. “We’ve done that on many occasions and it’s a blast. But I think we’ll stay up here in the comfort of the suite and watch from the balcony.”
Leanne nods her agreement, and I look to my parents. My mum makes a shooing motion. “We’ll stay here too. Why pass up the food and drinks?”
“I can stay,” I immediately say, not wanting to abandon them.
“You’d be crazy not to take that opportunity,” Graham says with a stern look. “It’s a whole new level of excitement down there. Go have fun.”
My eyes roam the table and every parental gaze tells me to go. So I do.
I grab my purse and sling it over my shoulder. “Okay, then… I think I will.”
I walk around the table, giving the Candlish and Hemsworth parents hugs before following the young man through the private corridor, down toward the garage. With every step, my nerves start to tingle. Not just from the excitement of being allowed into the heartbeat of the team, but because Reid wants me there.
Mechanics in red-and-white Matterhorn shirts with sponsor patches buzz around the sleek cars. The smell of petrol and rubber fills my nostrils, and my heart kicks harder as I enter the garage itself.
I’m led to a bank of tables along the wall with TV monitors spaced above. A headset is handed to me. I slip it on just as Felix’s voice crackles over the channel. “Reid, final systems check complete. Confirm strategy A. Ready when you are.”
I take my place near one of the team engineers, monitor in front of me, headset snug against my ears. I watch in awe at the flurry of activity—crew members double-checking tire pressures, final tweaks on the telemetry, engineers murmuring into radios, eyes locked on screens tracking live data from the cars already rolling toward the formation lap.
When I glance over at the car, I see Reid hoist himself into the cockpit. One fluid motion. His helmet is already on, visor down, obscuring the face I know so well. But even without seeing his eyes, I know the look that’s there.