Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
GRIFFIN
Monday
“You’re being childish.”
Violet didn’t look up from buckling Hazel into her car seat. We’d been on the tarmac for twenty minutes, waiting for customs clearance, and she hadn’t said a word to me since we’d boarded.
“Are you planning to ignore me for the entire flight?”
She adjusted Hazel’s blanket, still refusing to meet my eyes. The baby gurgled happily, oblivious to the arctic chill that had settled between us.
“Because that’s not going to work. We’re stuck together for the next week. You can’t pretend I don’t exist.”
Finally, she glanced up. Her expression was nothing but polite and professional. Like I was a stranger asking for directions.
“Is there something you need regarding Hazel’s care?”
This morning, she’d been wearing my name on her back, screaming it in my bed. Now she spoke to me like I was her employer.
Which, technically, I supposed I was.
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk to me like you’re reading from a bloody manual.”
She returned her attention to Hazel, smoothing down a tuft of dark hair. “I’m being professional.”
I laughed. “Gorgeous, you were covered in my cum a couple of hours ago. There’s nothing professional about us.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond.
The flight attendant appeared before I could push harder. “We’ve been cleared for takeoff. Please take your seats and fasten your seatbelts.”
I glanced at Violet, expecting her to unbuckle Hazel and move to her usual seat across from mine. Instead, she took a seat right next to Hazel and buckled in.
Three rows back.
“What are you doing?”
She clicked the belt into place. “Sitting.”
“Your seat’s up there.”
“I’m sitting with Hazel.”
“Her seat is also up front.”
We had a bloody bassinet for this. One that attached right in front of our usual seats. The one Hazel had slept in on every flight since Singapore. But sure, make her uncomfortable in a car seat for four hours just to prove a point.
Violet pulled out her phone.
“Vi.”
She put headphones in.
My stomach dropped. She wasn’t moving. She was going to sit back here for the entire three-hour flight, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
The engines roared as we began taxiing toward the runway.
“Sir, please take your seat.”
I tore my gaze from Violet and moved to the front row, dropping into my seat. The flight attendant smiled as she passed and I tried not to scowl at her. She didn’t deserve the side effects of Violet being ridiculous.
I buckled in and twisted around one more time. Violet’s profile was turned away from me, her hand resting on Hazel’s carrier. Protecting her. Shutting me out.
The plane picked up speed, engines roaring as we hurtled down the runway. I faced forward, my jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
Fine. She wanted space? She could have it.
For now.
She’d calm down once we landed. Once she’d had time to think rationally instead of spiraling about her father like he was some kind of villain instead of the man who’d finally given us his blessing.
She’d come around.
She had to.
The suite in Mexico City was identical to every other five-star hotel I’d stayed in over the years.
Marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, and enough space for a small army.
Under normal circumstances, Violet would have made some sarcastic comment about the ridiculous opulence.
Today, she walked straight to the second bedroom without a word.
“Where are you going?”
She paused in the doorway, Hazel still in her arms. “To get her settled.”
“In there?”
“Yes.”
“Why not the main bedroom? That’s where her cot usually goes.”
For the first time since Austin, something flickered in her expression. Annoyance, maybe. Or exhaustion.
“Because I’ll be sleeping in here with her.”
I blinked. We’d been sharing a bed for weeks. One argument didn’t justify her separating herself from me. But Violet was as stubborn as me. If I kept pushing her, she’d pull miracles and find her own room on another floor.
“No. Hazel sleeps with me.”
“You have race prep this week. You need proper rest.”
“I can handle—”
“You’re racing in four days. You don’t need a baby waking you at three AM.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“Why do we have to keep repeating this argument?” She sighed. “I don’t care. I’m her nanny. My job is to make sure you’re well-rested and focused for race weekend. Hazel stays with me.”
The logic was sound. Infuriatingly sound. But it wasn’t about logic and she bloody well knew it.
“This isn’t about my sleep schedule.”
“Sure it isn’t.” She laughed, shaking her head. Then she walked into the spare bedroom without another word.
I followed her in because fuck this bullshit.
“Wait, I—”
She spun on her heel, glaring at me. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked, the dismissal in her tone clear. “If not, I’d like to get Hazel settled before she gets overtired. And it’s really not appropriate for you to be in your employee’s room.”
Appropriate. Christ, I was starting to hate that word.
I stared at her. At the professional mask she’d pulled on so seamlessly. At the distance she’d put between us that had nothing to do with the physical space separating us.
She was really doing this. Really cutting me out.
“No,” I bit out. “Nothing else.”
She nodded to the door and I backed out, never taking my eyes off her.
“Vi—”
The door closed with a soft click, cutting off whatever pathetic plea I’d been about to make.
She closed the door and I stood there, dumbfounded, listening to her move around inside. The quiet murmur of her voice as she talked to Hazel. The soft creak of the cot being assembled.
Fuck this.
I grabbed my phone and ordered a steak and whisky from room service. Better than standing here like an idiot waiting for her to come out.
This was temporary. Had to be.
She’d wake up tomorrow and realize she was being ridiculous. That throwing away what we had because her father approved was insane.
She had to.
Tuesday
I woke to Hazel crying in the main living area.
For half a second, I thought I’d imagined it. That I was still in bed in Austin with Violet next to me and Hazel in her cot across the room.
Then reality crashed back. Separate bedrooms. Professional boundaries. The woman I’d fallen for treating me like a client.
Fuck.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the living area. Violet was attempting to prepare a bottle with one hand while bouncing Hazel with the other.
“Morning.”
She glanced up briefly. “Could you grab her bottle from the warmer?”
Finally, something I could do.
I moved quickly to the kitchenette. The bottle felt warm but not hot, perfect temperature.
“Here.” I held it out to her, but as she reached for it, Hazel let out a particularly piercing wail that made us both flinch.
The bottle slipped from my fingers.
“Shit!” I lunged forward, managing to catch it before it hit the floor, but the lid popped off in the process. Formula splattered across my shirt and the floor.
Hazel screamed louder.
“Shh, honey.” Violet closed her eyes and took a deep breath and released it slowly. “It’s okay.
“I’ll make another one.” I was already moving toward the kitchenette.
“I’ve got it.” She shifted Hazel to her other arm.
“No, let me—”
“Griffin.” The sharpness in her voice stopped me cold. “I’ve got it.”
I watched as she prepared a fresh bottle with one hand, her movements quick and efficient. Hazel’s cries softened the moment the bottle touched her lips. Within seconds, the room fell silent.
“Sorry.” I grabbed paper towels and crouched to clean up the spilled formula.
Violet settled into the armchair, her attention fixed entirely on Hazel.
I wiped up the last of the mess and straightened. Violet watched Hazel feed. She hummed something low and soothing.
Neither of them looked at me.
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll just... I have sim work this morning.”
Violet hummed in acknowledgement, but didn’t glance up.
I backed toward my room, feeling like an intruder in my own suite.
Tuesday dragged. Gym session. Film review with the engineers. Hours of prep for a race that was still days away.
Meanwhile, Hazel was three meters down the hall, and I’d barely seen her all day.
By evening, I’d made up my mind.
I found Violet in the living area, giving Hazel a bath in the portable tub. She tested the water temperature with her elbow while supporting Hazel’s head.
“She’s sleeping in my room tonight.”
Violet’s hands stilled. “You have training tomorrow.”
“I don’t care.”
She sighed. “We’ve been over this.”
“I know and it changes nothing. I need to actually be a father to my daughter.” I crossed my arms. “The whole point of traveling with her was so I could spend time with her. Not so I could listen to her crying through the walls.”
“Your job is to race, Griffin.” She lifted Hazel out of the water, wrapping her in a towel. “My job is to make sure you can.”
“No. My job is to be Hazel’s father. Racing comes second.”
Violet finally glanced up at me, her brows climbing and a look of absolute incredulity claiming her features.
“Have you told my father that?”
I winced. “No.”
“Right.” She dried Hazel’s arms with sharp movements.
“But Hazel’s still sleeping in my room.” I crossed my arms. “She might wake me up. Multiple times. I’ll be knackered for training. I know all of that, and I don’t care.”
Violet’s jaw worked.
“And if you’re that worried about me messing up, you could always sleep in my room tonight.”
Her gaze snapped to mine, incredulous. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I shrugged.
“That’s not appropriate.”
“Neither is keeping my daughter away from me, but here we are.”
Violet’s expression hardened. “Fine. She can sleep in your room. But I won’t be joining you.”
“Your loss.”
Before she could change her mind, I headed to her room and grabbed the travel cot, hoisting it under one arm along with Hazel’s overnight bag. When I got back to my room, Violet was already dressing Hazel in fresh pajamas.
I set up the cot while she finished. The baby cooed happily, reaching for Violet’s face.
“Anything else?” Violet asked, her tone clipped.
“No.”
She handed Hazel over. Our fingers touched during the transfer—just for a second—and something flickered in her expression before she locked it down.
Stay. Please. I don’t sleep well without you. I clamped my jaw shut on the words. I’d already begged once tonight. I wasn’t doing it again.
She reached for the door handle.
Just ask her. Tell her you need her here. Tell her the bed’s too cold without her.
Fuck that. Begging made you weak. I was already disposable enough.
“Good night.”
She nodded and walked out, closing the door behind her.
I looked down at Hazel, who wrapped her tiny fist around my finger and yawned.
“Just us tonight, kid.”
Wednesday
Screaming woke me at three AM.
I shot upright, adrenaline spiking through my veins. Hazel.
I stumbled to her cot and scooped her up. Her face was red, blotchy with tears. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
She screamed louder.
Shit.
I checked her nappy. Dry. Tried a bottle. She turned her head away, shrieking. I walked circles around the room, bouncing gently, humming the lullaby Violet always used.
Nothing worked.
She got more upset, her tiny body rigid.
I tried different holds. Rocking. Swaying. The special position Violet had shown me weeks ago.
She screamed and screamed.
By three-thirty, my arms ached. She’d been crying for thirty minutes straight and I had no clue what was wrong.
I could fix telemetry issues in seconds. Could adjust my driving line mid-corner based on feel alone. But I couldn’t figure out why my own daughter was in distress.
Another wail ripped from Hazel’s throat, raw enough to make my chest ache.
Fuck it.
I crossed the suite and knocked on Violet’s door. “Vi? I need help.”
The door opened immediately. Violet’s hair was mussed, her oversized t-shirt wrinkled.
She took Hazel without a word, held her upright against her shoulder, one hand supporting her head while the other rubbed gentle circles on her back.
Seconds later, Hazel let out a small burp, followed by a content sigh.
The crying stopped.
Just like that.
“You forgot to burp her.” Violet kept rubbing Hazel’s back.
I stared at them both. “I tried that.”
“Not long enough.” She demonstrated the motion again, her hand making slow circles. “She needs more time after feeds now. Her stomach’s getting bigger.”
Such a simple thing. So obvious. And I’d missed it completely, letting my daughter suffer for thirty minutes because I didn’t know what I was doing.
Violet handed Hazel back. Our fingers brushed during the transfer, electricity shooting up my arm. But when I looked up, Violet’s expression had already closed off.
“She should sleep now.” Violet stepped back toward her room.
“Vi, wait.”
She paused.
“Thank you.”
A slight nod. Then the door closed, leaving me alone with my daughter and the crushing realization of how much I still didn’t know.
I looked down at Hazel, who blinked up at me with sleepy eyes.
“Looks like your old man still has a lot to learn, kid.”
She yawned, her tiny fist curling against my chest.
I carried her back to the cot and laid her down. She was asleep before I finished tucking her blanket around her.
I climbed back into bed and stared at the ceiling. The sheets were cold, the bed too big. Three nights ago, I could have just rolled over and asked her what to do. Three nights ago, I hadn’t fucked everything up.