Now
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Jackson
“You can put that here,” I tell the delivery men.
They maneuver the heavy mattress into the small room, lean it against the wall I pointed at, and return to their truck outside.
I just spent a good part of the afternoon assembling the bed it’s meant to go onto. It probably would have been easier to do it with Evie, but that would have defeated the purpose. It’s meant to be a surprise, after all.
Careful not to damage the mattress, I slash open the thick protective wrap.
Then, I tug it off entirely before working on sliding it onto the slats.
It’s heavier than I anticipated, but I can appreciate an unplanned workout.
Next, I fetch the brand-new pillows and the duvet I purchased this morning, along with all this.
And the new set of sheets. Those, I had to order, since Evie had them bookmarked from an online store.
That burned almost all the money we had on the side, but neither of us could keep sleeping on that awful secondhand bed and mattress we got when we first arrived here. That’s why I know Evie will agree with the investment.
I’m just done making the bed when I hear the front door open and close.
“Jax?” she calls out. “What’s all that plastic wrap?”
Fuck. I thought I’d have enough time to clean up everything before she came back from work. After one last look to make sure it looks good, I open the door and lean over into the living room.
“I have a surprise for you,” I say, barely able to contain my smile.
She perks up instantly, grinning almost mischievously. “Oh? What is it?”
“Close your eyes.”
She complies, and I walk up to her, standing behind her. I place a hand over her eyes, the other on her lower back, and instruct, “Alright, forward we go, princess.”
She tentatively makes her way to our bedroom, hands in front of her as if I’d let her hurt herself on an obstacle. Once we’re in the bedroom, I place her right in front of the bed.
“Ready?”
“Yes!”
I let go, and she immediately gasps. “We have a proper bed!”
“We do.”
“With a headboard!”
“Yes. I couldn’t find the exact one you saved from Pinterest, but it’s pretty close, isn’t it?”
“It is! And you even got the sheets!”
I lean forward, bringing my temple next to hers while we both stare at what essentially took me the whole day.
“Do you like it?” I whisper.
“I love it! It was about time we had a nice bed.”
“Damn right it was. Sorry it took me almost a year to get it.”
She turns around and rests her arms on my shoulders, looking very cute in her Dairy Mill uniform. “It’s okay. I’m a patient girl.”
“I’m well aware of that, yes.”
When I dive in for a kiss, she rises on her toes. If her enthusiasm is any indication of her appreciation for the gift, safe to say she’s thrilled with my surprise.
“And you don’t even know the best part yet,” I playfully say, lifting her into my arms with her legs on each side of my hips.
“What’s the best part?”
I walk up to the bed and let us fall onto it. She shrieks with surprise, then giggles when the soft mattress absorbs the shock.
“I picked a very good mattress,” I explain, kissing the side of her throat.
“I can feel that.”
“And it has a little bounce to it.” I demonstrate with a few rhythmic swings of my hips.
“Oh, that’s going to feel great,” she responds before pulling me in for more kisses.
Pecking her throat, I busy myself with the buttons of her uniform, eager to unveil her body to my eyes.
“Did you get new pillows too?!”
“Yes. And a duvet, too. Everything’s new.”
“We’re going to sleep so well tonight, my gosh …”
I halt my journey down to look up at her. “I’m not here tonight,” I remind her.
“What?!”
“The team bus leaves for Atlanta in four hours, so we can be there in the morning to prepare for the qualifying race.”
“I didn’t know that. I thought you didn’t have to be on the track until later in the afternoon.”
“Yeah, but I still have to leave with the team.”
Her very visible disappointment makes me realize how poor my timing was. I’m getting us a new bed and won’t be in it for the first four nights. I probably should have waited until I came back, but I wanted to leave her with something nice for this long weekend apart.
“Princess, I’m sorry. I thought I told you that.”
“You probably did. I just forgot.”
I crawl higher again to level my face with hers. “I promise I’ll make it up to you when I come back.”
“How?”
“We can spend a whole entire day in bed if you want.”
That works a little, and I discern a smile hiding behind her pout. “Doing what?”
“Well, I have three hours and thirty minutes to give you a taste of what’s to come. Do we think that’ll be enough?”
“We think we just came back from a nine-hour shift standing on our feet, so you have forty-five minutes tops because we are exhausted.”
Now I’m the one disappointed. She probably notices it, so she adds, “Then, a two-hour nap, and another forty-five minutes of demonstrations.”
“I can work with that,” I chuckle. “I love it when we compromise.”
“Me too. Come on, Hot Wheels. If you leave me wanting more by the time you have to catch your bus, I will change the locks while you’re away.”
“Oh, don’t worry, princess. My performance won’t leave you unsatisfied.”
“It rarely does.”
“Rarely?!”
She giggles. “Never. You never leave me unsatisfied.”
“Thank fuck. You scared me for a second there.”
“That’s what you get for buying a new bed and then abandoning me. What am I supposed to do without you for four nights, Jax?”
“Again, that’ll be part of the demonstration. Pay attention to my hands.”
I give her a wink as I playfully wiggle my fingers. Then I return to the buttons of her dress.
For the first time since we moved to Indianapolis, I feel like things are starting to look up. The money isn’t as tight, and my performance is getting better with every race.
I doubted myself for a moment there, but it looks like my dream of becoming a Formula One driver is back on the table.
We’re back on track.
“So it’s official?” I ask into the phone.
“Not quite. Her lawyer has filed the divorce with the Colorado court, and it takes about six weeks to become official. Then you and Ms. Evangeline Griffin will be legally divorced.”
“When did that happen?”
“Let me look. Hm … It seems it was filed about three weeks ago.”
So, right after what happened that evening during the sunset. It was a bigger deal than I imagined. Bad enough for her to finally bring our marriage to an end.
Of course, I realized then that something had gone wrong. One moment, I was in a haze of lust and passion, high on her taste and ready for more. The next, I was driving her back to her place in tense silence.
But what happened exactly? I’ve been trying for weeks to think of what might have caused that switch within her. But it makes no sense to me.
And now, this …
“Mr. Reyes?” my lawyer calls, seemingly not for the first time.
“What?”
“Would you like us to start working on the money transfer, so that it’s ready when the divorce comes through?”
Right, there’s that as well. The ten-million-dollar settlement I insisted on. “Yes, get it sorted.”
“Alright, sir.”
I hang up and stare at the phone for longer than I should. That’s how my mom finds me when she walks into the living room. Slouched on the armchair, staring at my phone, the screen now black.
“Everything good, sweetie?”
“Yeah,” I answer.
But no, everything isn’t good. I’m boiling within.
This is bullshit. How dare she walk back into my life, flip it upside down, and then pull this shit?
I was doing fine. It took me years, but I healed.
I learned how to live without her. How to give my life meaning, even if she wasn’t around anymore.
Seven years of introspection and hard work to get over her, gone down the fucking drain in a few hours spent by her side.
I’ve spiraled back into my feelings, into these emotions that nearly drove me to the brink of insanity back then.
I still remember waiting for her to return, convincing myself she would.
Week after week, I told myself she only needed more time.
She wouldn’t abandon me. Not when we were so fucking close to the finish line.
It was right there within reach. Less than a year away.
But she never came back. She “couldn’t” come back for some fucking reason.
Seven years. It took her that fucking long to step into my life again. And it was to ask for a divorce.
Fucking bullshit.
My mom, oblivious to my foul mood, casually says, “Dinner will be ready in—”
“I’m going out for a drive,” I interrupt her, standing from the armchair.
“What? We’re about to have dinner. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. I just need to drive.”
“But—”
“Eat without me. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
Refusing to keep arguing about this, I step out of the room and grab my keys and wallet on my way to the front door.
I hear my mom talking to my dad, her tone worried, so I rush outside before they both get on my case.
I don’t want to be around people right now.
I might bite someone’s head off otherwise.
I get into Winifred, start, and back up without putting on my seatbelt. Just as I’m done pulling out of my parents’ driveway, I see them come out onto the porch. I ignore their motions asking me to wait, and take off, tires screeching on the asphalt.
I’m not that familiar with this part of the Denver suburbs, but I have a general idea of the directions that’ll lead me out of them. I drive without a purpose, often too fast, eager to get away from everything and everyone.
When I get to the state highway, I stop holding back.
I need to get out of my head, and the best way I know how is to drive fast. When I’m locked in, focused on every turn, every pass, there’s no room left for any emotions, any thoughts.
Only the road, the pedals under my feet, and the wheel in my hands.