Now
CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE
Evangeline
Four months into it, I’m forced to recognize that our life in Belgium isn’t what I expected. I love living with Jax again, but his schedule is so ridiculously busy that it sometimes feels like we’re still long-distance.
Altron is essentially preparing him to become the next Formula One legend, and it means he spends more time away than at home.
It makes sense, since they want him to catch up on the karting days he never had.
Four times a week, he trains in the team’s specialized gym with a personal trainer.
His whole body is under a rigorous program to prepare for the physical strain that’ll come with driving an F1 car.
Then, he also works in the F2 simulator three times a week, preparing for upcoming races and improving his corners and reaction times.
Every Monday, he takes a train to Paris, to the Formula One facility there.
He often has to spend the night, since he’s usually exhausted from his long day of intense simulations.
I went with him at first, but it’s insane how fast Paris lost its charm, given how lonely I felt exploring it on my own while Jackson worked.
The preseason preparations were hard, but as soon as the race weekend started, it became even worse.
Between traveling around the world, sponsor events, car tests …
he’s barely ever at home. And although a Formula 2 season only has fourteen race weekends, which align with Formula One Grand Prix, Jax is expected to attend most of the other ten races as well, to build his image and make his presence feel like a given in the Formula world.
Because we already have so little time together, I try to follow him around as much as I can.
But I still get to see very little of my husband, forced to share him with everyone else.
Especially since we’ve been told by the PR team that a bachelor’s image is much more enticing at this stage of his career, so it’s better if I stay in the background for now.
Neither of us is happy about it, but we’ve worked too hard to fumble the bag so close to the finish line.
But overall, the experience has been painfully underwhelming for me, and I’ve been feeling so guilty about it.
Jax barely gets a minute to himself, and I have too much time on my hands.
I’ve never been this idle before or felt this useless.
But what else can I do? He doesn’t need me anymore.
There’s an entire team of professionals backing him up, finding him sponsors, scheduling events, keeping up with his race stats, even feeding him, most of the time …
I’ve essentially become a worthless trophy wife who barely even gets to be a wife at all.
To avoid going completely insane, I’ve been doing my best to build a life of my own here. Which is why I’ve been trying to learn French. But it’s kicking my butt. I even enrolled in an intensive online class to help, but I think I’m hermetic to that barbarian language.
What do you mean there are twenty-four tenses? And why do exceptions to the rules seem to be the majority? Who the hell cares if a telephone is male or female? And why are so many words pronounced exactly the same but are written nothing alike and have vastly different meanings?
Whoever said it was the most romantic language in the world clearly never tried to learn it. It’s a foul tongue, and I don’t think I’ll ever master it.
At least I’ve been able to keep up with my courses. The finals are coming, and I’m pretty optimistic about how I’ll do. In two more years, I should have my Bachelor of Architecture. Then, I’ll need to gain some experience with a firm before I can get certified.
Another plus side to this new life is our house.
It’s gorgeous, and the interiors are coming along beautifully.
We’ve allotted a monthly budget to furnish and decorate this place, and I’ve been doing my best to make it feel like a home.
My vision has slowly been coming to life, but it still doesn’t quite feel like that yet, probably because I’ve been alone a lot or traveling along with Jax.
But that will come. I’m sure it will. And if it doesn’t, I’ll find it in our forever home in Italy.
I can’t wait for the day we get there. But these past months have made me question what truly awaits us once Jackson gets into Formula One.
If things are already this intense and complicated with fourteen race weekends in Formula 2, what will our lives look like in two years, with ten extra weekends? I don’t even know how we could end up having less time together than we already do, but it’s bound to happen, isn’t it?
Maybe I’ll learn not to miss him so much. I’ll find myself a purpose that isn’t him and have my own schedule full of adventures and interesting things to occupy my days. Anything.
Sprawled on the couch with my MacBook on my lap, I glare at the French exercise on my screen. How can I be failing a class that doesn’t even have grades?!
Biting through the frustration, I answer the questions one at a time.
When the results appear on the screen, I feel more stupid than I ever have.
Especially since several of the other students have bragged on the Discord server about how easy it was.
At least I’m allowed to restart to get a better score.
So, I do that, refusing to be the dumb one again.
I’m almost done when the door that leads to the garage opens. I’m so surprised by the unexpected motion that I jump with a small scream, the laptop falling between me and the backrest.
The moment I recognize the silhouette that comes through, my frenzied heart settles down. Jackson wasn’t meant to return from Paris until tomorrow morning, but he’s right here, wearing his team’s green hoodie and sweatpants, looking exhausted.
“You’re back!” I practically shout.
He drops his bag by the door and says, “Yeah, I thought I’d sleep in my bed tonight. With my wife.”
Once he’s kicked his shoes off, he falls onto the couch face-first before crawling to me. With his powerful torso over my hips, he rests his head on my stomach with a contented sigh.
“That’s better,” he mumbles with a smile.
“How was your day?” I ask, bringing my hands to his braided head to gently massage it.
“Long. But I did great on the simulator.”
“Yeah?”
“I beat a couple of rookie records.”
“That’s amazing! And you haven’t even been in a proper car yet.”
“The trainers said I should spend the off season in Phoenix so I can start testing the car they’re working on.”
“Aren’t they supposed to move the facilities here?”
“Originally, yes, but I’m not sure anymore. Wesley Pryce wants to keep everything very American-made, so people have been saying that might not happen after all. I mean, it makes sense to keep it there, near the Altron facilities and shit.”
“I see … Well, it means we can spend Christmas with your parents.”
“That’ll be nice, yeah.”
As I pass my fingertips along the parts between his braids, I realize it’s been a while since I last did them.
Every couple of weeks, we sit down in front of a movie, with him on the floor between my legs while I redo them.
It’s one of the few quality moments we have, so I’ve become slower and slower at it, just to make it last longer.
He probably noticed but hasn’t complained, likely enjoying it as much as I do.
“Do you have time before your flight tomorrow so I can redo your hair?” I ask.
“I don’t think so, sorry, princess. They have booked someone for it, anyway. They want something a little more … sophisticated for the photos.”
“Oh, okay.”
He looks up at me, planting his amazing eyes into mine. “You’re still my number one braider.”
I smile down at him, touched by his words of reassurance.
When he crawls a little higher to lay a tender kiss on my lips, I welcome him with eagerness. My legs spread to lure him closer as my hands tug at his hoodie, pulling him in. When I writhe my hips into his to feel him better, he moves away.
“I’m way too tired to perform, princess,” he mumbles.
“I can perform. You lie down, and I’ll take care of you.”
He thinks about it for a moment, then groans. “Tomorrow morning. Before I leave for London,” he negotiates.
Disappointed, I pout. It’s been over a week since we’ve had time for sex, and I really miss being close to him like that.
“Why don’t you come with me?” he offers. “We’ll have a nice hotel room for a couple of nights. I’ll take you to that fish and chips place you liked last time.”
“Do you think we can have another afternoon tea? That was so nice.”
He winces. “I won’t have a free afternoon. But I promise I’ll spend every available second with you, princess.”
Well, I can’t say no to that now, can I?
“Okay, I need to go pack,” I say with renewed enthusiasm.
But he doesn’t move. Or he does, but just to lower a little and plaster himself onto me again. “Just give me a minute of this.” He rests the side of his face right onto my chest, nestled between the heavy mounds. “Oh yeah, that’s the stuff,” he murmurs, closing his eyes with a grin.
I can barely hold mine as I roll my eyes.
Sometimes, I forget the boy he used to be when we first met. Looking back, we were so young. Still kids, basically. But already then, we knew. This is forever. And although it’s been six years since those days, it still rings as true today as it did then.
We’re each other’s ride or die. Always.
Apair of soft, plump lips is exploring my shoulder. They pull me out of slumber in the most delicious way I could think of, one kiss, one tender graze at a time.
Slowly coming to my senses, I realize there’s an arm thrown around my middle, keeping me plastered against a solid body behind me. As always when I wake up with Jax, a mix of joy and contentment fills me before I’ve even opened my eyes.
Feeling oddly at peace, I let out a contented sigh, stretching a little. Gosh, I’m sore everywhere. I can’t remember struggling to keep up with his stamina when we were younger. Maybe I’ll get there again. Eventually.