Chapter 12
JESSICA
Just as we finish dinner, several phones around the table light up. Working in media means getting push notifications for news sites and Twitter.
Everyone begins checking their phones for the latest breaking news.
“What is it?” I ask Molly who’s engaged in her phone, clearly looking at something intriguing.
“The first pictures of Luke Hastings and Victoria Jensen just dropped. After the gossip blast that dropped this morning, it looks like there was truth to it.” She turns her phone toward me, and I feel my stomach drop.
Right in front of me is a picture of Luke and Victoria, heading into what appears to be his team bus. He’s still in his race suit, and they seem to be in a hurry.
Almost as if they don’t want to be seen, trying to hide. It reminds me of how I’ve been around him myself.
Molly takes her phone back, and I feel my anxiety rising.
Have I really been that dumb?
Maybe he’s been with Victoria all along, and I was just his latest way to be entertained.
What if this all was just a game to him?
To humiliate me. I feel disappointed and angry, but I try to tell myself that I need to hear him out before writing him off. Maybe there’s an explanation for this.
There has to be.
This is Luke. He doesn’t strike me as the type to pull off something like this. He’s been wonderful in every way, and I need to have some faith in him.
Then Molly turns her phone toward me again, this time showing a picture of Victoria in his arms, sharing a hug, with Luke smiling into the embrace.
I feel sick.
My breath catches in my throat, and I feel overwhelmed with a feeling of betrayal.
I should’ve known that someone like him would never be with someone like me.
Even though we haven’t really talked about this thing between us, I was naive enough to believe he wasn’t seeing someone else while taking me on the most romantic date the day before and kissing me senseless.
Not to mention the gift this morning.
Why would he go out of his way to make me feel so special just to turn up with Victoria in photos hours later?
We finish dinner, and I’m grateful we’re heading back to the bus, where I can process my feelings alone.
◆◆◆
I’m heading out to get some ice cream when a familiar BMW pulls up beside me. Luke rolls down his window and calls out,
“Hey, princess. Just the beautiful brunette I’ve been searching for.” I huff at him and cross my arms over my chest.
“Really? I could have sworn you’ve been busy entertaining your other “princess”.” I toss back at him, and he stops the car before rushing out.
“This is the reason I’ve been going crazy today. I was hoping I could explain this whole mess before you saw anything, but it seems you’ve jumped to your own conclusions either way.”
He seems disappointed in me, but he’s not the only one feeling that way.
“Me jumping to conclusions? What am I supposed to believe when you took me out on the most romantic date yesterday and gifted me such a lovely book today, only to be shown pictures of you with another girl in your arms just a few hours later?” I almost yell at him.
I try to calm my racing temper and remember I don’t really have any claim over him.
“That was just a friendly hug. If you’d actually had some faith in me, you would have heard me out and not let your insecurities get in the way of us.”
It wounds me when he calls me out for having insecurities, knowing I’m working through it.
What am I supposed to believe when people show me pictures of him with another girl?
A very beautiful and successful girl.
During dinner, the whole team was gushing about how cute they were together, while I had to focus on controlling my breathing and not panicking.
“Please enlighten me then,” I tell him, my tone sharp.
I’m many things, but I’m no fool, and I prefer not to be treated like one.
“You know what, if this is your reaction to the first challenge thrown your way, maybe this was destined to go south sooner rather than later.”
His words sting, and it’s clear we both have too much pride and temper right now to sort this out.
If he doesn’t want to explain this whole mess, then yes, we were doomed either way.
“Yeah, I guess so,” I tell him, and he just shakes his head before opening the car door and telling me to get in.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” I start walking back toward the track, but Luke stops me.
“Please just let me take you back. I couldn’t live with myself if I let you walk around here alone, and something happened to you.” He speaks more softly now, and I comply simply because I don’t feel like arguing anymore.
We get in the car, and the tension is thick. As soon as the car stops, I grab the handle and get out as quickly as I can, not looking back.
My feet strike the pavement harder than I planned, carrying me toward the glowing lights of the paddock while my mind spins.
I need to get away, to somewhere I can breathe.
My chest aches as I try to hold back the storm of emotions rising inside me.
Inside the bus, I collapse onto my bunk and press my hands to my eyes, forcing myself not to cry. The fight with Luke replays in my head on an endless loop.
Play. Rewind. Regret.
Was I too quick to judge and jump to conclusions?
Or was he really playing me all along?
It shouldn’t hurt this much, this fast, but the pain is real and tangible in the quiet of the bus.
I pull out one of my other notebooks, not daring to even cast a look at the one Luke gave me.
I’m supposed to write a post-race report, but the words blur together and nothing fits together.
Eventually, exhaustion settles in, dulling the sharp edges of my hurt. I drag myself to the bathroom, getting ready to sleep before settling into bed.
Maybe tomorrow things will be better, I’ll wake up, and this ache will be gone.