53. Adrian
Today is the last race before the summer break.
I’m in a good fucking mood.
Before you ask,yes, it’s because I told Nevaeh I love her last night and she said it back to me. Obviously, that’s the reason for my good mood. How could it not be? I’ve never been in love before, but it feels incredible like nothing can touch me as long as Nevaeh is by my side. It’s a heady feeling, dangerous, but that’s what Formula One is all about, too, and I crave that feeling. I just never thought I’d feel it in my relationship.
“Adrian Romana.” Well, that voice certainly has the ability to kill my happy mood.
“What do you want, rookie?” I ask, straightening out my back to tower over him. Daniel gives me a disapproving look, but I’m not the one who wants to fight.
Lincoln is.
“I’ve thought about what you said last time, and you’re right. The championship is far from decided, but I’m going to win. I’m going to take this from you the way you took Nevaeh from me.”
He takes a step toward me, puffing out his chest.
I’m as unimpressed by his announcement as he knew I’d be, which is why he adds, “You’re not good enough for the trophy. Your grandfather and father were champions in their time, I used to watch them when I grew up, and you’re nothing like them. You don’t have what it takes to win. It’s why Gabriel won last season. It’s why I’ll win this season. They’d be so disappointed to know you don’t have what it takes.”
Lincoln steps away again, smiling viciously at me before delivering the killing blow.
“Luckily, they’re too dead to watch you fuck up your second chance,” he says, making my hands curl into fists at my sides.
All of my grief bubbles up to the top, all of my self-doubts ripping my confidence to shreds. Maybe if I hadn’t felt this way before, his words wouldn’t rattle me, but they do. They fuck with my carefully crafted mindset until I’m so off-balance, I can’t even breathe anymore.
I’m not good enough.
My family would be disappointed in me.
They’re all too dead to watch me fail or succeed, too dead to be there for me either way.
I’ve been so good at distracting myself from my grief, to redirect my thoughts whenever they went to a dark place. I’ve managed to push it all into a corner and ignore it. Never deal with it. Be the light in everyone’s lives. Do my best to never get dragged down by how much I miss my family. How deeply their losses hurt me. Just how hard it broke my heart when my grandmother died, my father accidentally killed himself, and my grandfather passed away from lung cancer.
When my mother left.
I breathe through gritted teeth, unwilling to let Lincoln see how big of an effect his words have on me.
“Are you done? I have better things to do than watch children throw tantrums,” I say, sounding calm and collected despite the tsunami of pain hitting my system in waves.
“Yeah, I’m done here. I’ve caused all the damage I needed to unravel your cool-guy demeanor because I’ve seen right through you from the moment we met. You pretend nothing can get to you, but you have weaknesses. You’re confident, but deep inside, you’re a broken man, who loves people too fiercely. Let me give you one last tip, don’t waste that love on Nevaeh. You make one mistake, and she’ll leave you, just like she left me,” he says, and I bite through another wave of pain, my molars grinding together.
“You made more than one mistake with Nevaeh. You treated her like a piece of fucking property, and I swear to God, if you go near her again without her permission, I will hurt you. Maybe not physically, maybe not visibly, but I will find the one spot that brings you the most pain, and I’ll press until you beg for mercy.” I move toward him, leaning down so he’s sure to hear my next words clearly. “Now get the fuck out of my face before I punch you in yours,” I warn, panic snaking around my lungs and squeezing until inhaling hurts.
He looks a little scared of me now, but I don’t care anymore. I need him to leave so I can find Nevaeh.
Lincoln disappears a second later, and I let out a wheezing breath, collapsing against the fence Daniel and I were standing next to. I just got out of my car after driving it to the first place position on the grid and we were about to run through our last-minute pre-race preparations when Lincoln showed up. I don’t have a lot of time to break down right now, but it doesn’t matter.
This is not a choice I’m making.
“Adrian,” Daniel blurts out, catching my arm as my breaths come out faster and more shallow.
“I need Nevaeh.”
My hands are shaking. Pain has consumed every part of me, making it impossible to breathe. It feels like the entire planet is sitting on my lungs, preventing them from taking in any oxygen. I’ve never experienced this kind of suffering, this deep, unconscious pain that has resurfaced after years of suppressing it. It’s almost like it increased over time, and now it’s eating away at everything good and positive inside of me. All my happy memories, all the joy I’ve ever felt, everything is getting pushed into a corner of my mind as hurt stacks its tables and chairs against it, keeping it from escaping.
I have to make it stop.
Somehow, and I have no idea how I have to find a way to get rid of this inability to breathe.
Grief is an old friend, I’ve carried him with me my entire life. I’ve known him since I was a child. Lived in a certain kind of harmony with him.
Lincoln’s words have shattered that harmony.
Tears stream down my face, but I wipe them away, angry at myself for falling apart where everyone can see me. I stumble away from Daniel, toward Leonard’s garage where I’m hoping Nevaeh will be.
My brain is spinning from the lack of oxygen, my hands are still quivering from the earthquake within me, and my lungs are burning. They burn and ache, but I can’t ease their pain. I can’t ease any of it, anywhere in me.
“Come on,” I say to myself, trying to inhale as deeply as I can. It doesn’t work.
More hyperventilation follows.
How the fuck do I make this stop?
I think about what Grandma would tell me to do. She’d say, “Think about why this is causing you so much pain. Try to understand why it hurts, and then address it. You will be able to move on.” It’s complete and utter bullshit. I know why this hurts so goddamn much. I know where everything is coming from, the root of all of my problems. It doesn’t make them go away, doesn’t help me fucking breathe.
Why the hell is it so hard to breathe, for fuck’s sake!
Grandpa would tell me to find balance. “You’re completely out of balance. You’re letting your emotions affect your body and mind. It’s why you can’t breathe.” Blah, blah, blah. None of this is going to help me.
“Drown your sorrows, son. Forget about the rest of the world and grab a bottle. It always helped me. It can do the same for you.” My father’s voice swims in my ears.
Alcohol. His addiction got even worse after he got kicked off his team. He always told us he’d decided to retire, but I knew better. I knew he was kicked off the team because of all the bullshit he pulled. It’s why Grandfather was always disappointed in him. It’s why Grandma couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, not that she had to for a long time since she died shortly after he became a self-destructive mess.
Fuck.
More pain shoots through me when I realize for the millionth time they’re all dead. They’re all gone, forever.
As soon as I’m in front of the garage, Nevaeh rushes outside to meet me, catching me a second before I hit the ground.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” she asks, searching my face while helping me step away from all the people who could potentially record my breakdown.
“Can’t… fucking… breathe…” I manage to croak out, dropping down a wall as soon as Nevaeh closes the door to where she brought me. “Feels… like… I’m dying.”
“Okay, it’s alright, baby. You’re having a panic attack. You’re not dying, and I’ve got you. Let’s breathe together,” she says before telling someone, I hope it’s Daniel, to get her some ice. “Ready, mein Mond?” she asks, touching my cheek and making me realize just how hard I’m pressing my eyes shut. The way she addresses me, my moon, brings me back into the moment with her, allowing my eyes to flutter open.
There’s a comforting smile on her face as I look at her.
“I’ve got you and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll breathe together, and you’ll find your way back into your body, regain control. Okay?”
The way she’s so calm, so well-versed in what the fuck is happening to me, settles me enough to nod. She takes my shaking hand in hers and presses it to her chest, letting me feel her steady heartbeat. Nevaeh places her hand on my chest, grounding me.
“I’m here. You’re going to be okay. Take one big inhale for me, hold it, then exhale.”
“I can’t,” I say, more tears streaming down. I can’t stop crying either. Everything hurts. Everything burns inside of me.
“Yes, you can.”
Daniel reappears with an ice pack in his hand, and Nevaeh lifts my fireproofs enough to press it against my chest without any warning. The cold sends a shock to my system until I’m hissing out another breath.
“Fuck’s sake, baby,” I groan, my head falling backward against the wall.
“Breathe in,” she says, taking a deep breath with me. “Hold.” I hold my breath. “Exhale.” Through gritted teeth, I expel it, but she doesn’t stop there. She makes me repeat the same three steps until my panic subsides enough to stop my body from shaking. Nevaeh eventually removes the ice pack, handing it to a very concerned Daniel. “Can you give us a minute?” my girlfriend asks sweetly, softly, her voice soothing me all over again.
“Of course,” my performance coach and friend says, stepping out of what I just now realize is a break room.
“Talk to me. What triggered it?” she says, rubbing a gentle hand over my chest.
The events leading up to my panic attack spill from my lips without hesitation. Nevaeh’s eyes grow dark at my explanation.
“I’m gonna kill him. I’m going to ask him to meet me somewhere private, trick him into a box, nail the lid shut, and throw it into the ocean.” I can’t help but chuckle at her plan. My fingers wrap around the hand she’s still holding against my chest, lifting it to press a kiss to her knuckles.
“What if he’s right? What if I’m not good enough? What if everything my father and grandfather were as racers was all given to Val and none of it to me?” I ask, so she moves forward until she’s straddling my lap and able to cup my face in her hands.
“I hear you. Your feelings are valid,” she says, and I furrow my brows at her, a little smile covering my face.
“But?” I reply, running my hands from her hips to her ass.
“But I would like to smack some sense into you, Adrian. You are a phenomenal driver. When I watch you race, I can’t look away. You mesmerize me. You’re aggressive but fair. Respectful but determined. Talented but also skilled. You deserve the championship. You are good enough. Don’t let Lincoln project his insecurities onto you. He’s not good enough. He hardly had to work for his seat. Yes, he’s a good driver, but he’s also a cheater. He’s already got enough penalty points to last a season. He’s a dick,” she says, making me snort a little but mostly smile at her because her reassurance of my ability as a racer means way more to me than Lincoln’s degradation of it.
“I love you, mon paradis,” I blurt out, telling her I love her for the second time in twenty-four hours. It’s a strange realization, knowing I’ve never done that with anyone but my sister and once James. I could fall in love with her time after time, life after life. Over and over because once isn’t nearly enough.
“I love you endlessly, mein Mond.” Then, she kisses me, and all my grief, all the pain in my chest, goes back to its proper place in my head. “I need you to promise me something,” she says against my lips, leaning back enough so her brown eyes are on mine. I trace the freckles painted over the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
“Anything.”
“Don’t ignore your grief. I tried to ignore mine after my injury. It doesn’t work forever. It will come out in moments like these, through panic attacks and anxiety, maybe even depression.” I nod because she’s right. I can’t hide from it forever. I can’t ignore it either. “I’ll help you. I’ll catch you when you fall because you’re allowed to take the time to fall apart.”
More tears jump into my eyes.
“I am?” She strokes my jaw, then runs her thumb over my bottom lip.
“You are. One more race until the summer break, until you can take a breather,” Nevaeh assures me.
“What if I don’t win today?” It feels like if I don’t snatch the win, if I can’t win this race, I’ll lose the championship altogether. It’s a stupid thought, but after the hit my confidence took today, I’m not sure I can dismiss it either.
“You’re Adrian Romana. You get back up after getting knocked down, brush the dust off your magnificent ass, and try again,” she says, standing up and holding out her hand.
“You like my ass? All my hard work has finally paid off!” I celebrate, watching her laugh at my comment before letting her help me up.
My arms wrap around her once I’m upright, hugging her to my chest.
“Thank you,” I say, inhaling her sweet scent. My tensed-up muscles relax a little as she runs her hands down my back.
“Anytime,” she replies. “Breathe, race, and win, as long as it doesn’t cost you a limb.”
I give her one last kiss, falling more in love with Nevaeh Fuchs every second I spend in her presence.