by Lauren Asher
“It’s not the selfish part, it’s the human part. And that’s what makes you genuine.”
I drop my head and focus on my hands fisted in my lap. “Some days it’s hard to visit her.”
“Because she thinks you’re her daughter?”
I swallow to combat the dryness in my throat. “You heard?”
Vera grabs onto my hand in a motherly gesture I crave, reminding me of her trembles. “I didn’t know her condition was this severe.”
“It is what it is.” I shrug.
“Oh, cut that toxic positivity out. You don’t need to be strong all the time. Tell me how you honestly feel.”
“Lonely. So freaking lonely I cry myself to sleep some nights.” With Elías traveling and Abuela in the state she is in, I feel deprived of affection to the point that it suffocates me like the dark I despise with everything in me.
She shakes her head and pats my hand. “My son is an idiot. A selfless idiot, but an idiot nonetheless.”
The mere mention of Jax has me bristling.
“I want to tell you a story, but you have to promise to listen until the end. Don’t interrupt until I’m finished.”
My brows pinch together as I consider what kind of story she wants to share. Probably something about Jax that will tempt me to break down in front of his mom. But Vera deserves my respect and time, so I nod in agreement despite my brewing emotions.
“I found out about my condition a few months after I gave birth to Jax. When my grandfather was diagnosed with Huntington’s Disease, my parents sent me a courtesy letter about it. No phone call, no greeting, no congratulations on giving birth to a child. Only a basic letter wishing me well and suggesting that I should get tested in case I carry the gene.” Vera’s voice cracks.
She continues, clutching onto my hand harder. “I couldn’t wrap my head around that kind of diagnosis. I was newly married and just had a child. But when I found out about my grandfather, it was as if my world paused. Zack was my only support system as I navigated through the process of meeting with a genetic counselor. The only reason I went through the testing in the first place was because of my son. I could have lived a happy life not knowing about something I wouldn’t encounter until an older age, but I knew my son deserved to know. That he deserved to enjoy every moment I could offer him before my disease started taking its toll.”
She lets out a ragged breath. “It was the hardest decision I ever had to make. When I found out I carried the gene, I got angry and then I got depressed. Zack was there for me every step of the way, ensuring I had someone on my side. And oh God, Zack was barely an adult himself. His career was starting to pick up in the boxing scene, and here I was, a new wife and a new burden for him. The news of my diagnosis and the post-labor hormones caused me to fall into depression. A deep, dark, lonely place filled with self-doubt and hatred. For myself, for my situation, for the odds I stacked against my newborn son without knowing it.
“I was barely living. Barely even breathing, but I made sure to carry out my basic motherly duties. One day Zack held our son out to me and, dear God, I still remember his speech to this day. I swear his words wrote themselves on my heart and never left. Zack said, ‘The sun might seem as if it stops shining from time to time because of a cloud or a rainstorm or the nighttime, but it’s still there. It endures everything to nurture the lives that depend on it. You’re my sun. I don’t care if you’re hidden because of a storm or the end of the fucking world. I can’t live without you, and I can’t imagine a world where my son would want to either.’” A couple of tears escape Vera’s eyes. I wrap my arms around her and give her a hug, still not speaking like she asked because she needs to get this out.
“I stopped shining. I stopped living. I allowed a diagnosis that wouldn’t affect me for years to suck up my happiness like a vacuum. But Zack’s kindness and my love for Jax got me out of it, along with therapy. And you might be wondering why I’m telling you any of this, but I swear it is important.”
She lets out a deep sigh. “I understand my son more than anyone else. He might be built like his father, but he has every ounce of my heart. He pushed you away rather than keep you to himself. It took him years to agree to a genetic counselor the first time, but after less than a season with you, he was willing to do the process all over again. A light I hadn’t seen in him since he was younger was finally lit again. He wanted a future that was different than the one he made up in his head about him living by himself for the rest of his life.”
Everything in my body tightens. I’m afraid of what she will say next, but I wait with bated breath for her to continue.
Her voice cracks. “As his mother, I was worried when he asked about testing again. How could I not be? I prayed day after day he would receive the news he so desperately needed and craved. Except he didn’t get the news we were all hoping for.” The few tears Vera shed turn into a waterfall down her cheeks. My face mimics hers, and I don’t try to brush them away. “It kills me to know my son has Huntington’s Disease because of me. Him destroying his future with you stole a bit of my soul because of the pain he experienced doing it. I hate seeing my son devastated over not being with the person he loves. I don’t want that for him.”
Jax has Huntington’s Disease? My heart doesn’t ache, it explodes in my chest like a bomb. Everything around me drains of color as I stare at his mother, desperate for this to all be a joke.
“He was diagnosed?” The words leave my lips in a whisper.
She bobs her head up and down. “God, I wish it weren’t the case.”
We cry together, hugging one another. Tears run down my cheeks as I think of everything Jax did to push me away. I cry for him and for his future he desperately wanted to escape from.
She pulls out of my arms, only to clutch my hands in hers. “I love my son with everything in me, so I came here to ask you to forgive him. He wasn’t in a good place when he said those things to you, and he only said them to make you hate him. I can’t sit back and watch him become a shell of someone I barely recognize because he denied himself his chance at love. He deserves the sun, no matter how much he hides from it and lives in the shadows. Be that for him. Get him out. Have it in your heart to fight for him even when he believes whole-heartedly, he doesn’t deserve it. Love isn’t easy, and I’m not here to tell you that your love story will be like that. But I can promise you that my son is single-handedly one of the best men I know, and it’s not because I raised him. The actions he took to protect you after pushing you away speak more about his character than anything I could say. He’s loyal to you, even when apart.”
“I don’t even know what to say.” I brush the tears off my cheeks.
Pain grips onto my chest like rusty claws. The fact that Jax will shoulder another burden in addition to his anxiety...I can’t bear the thought of him being in agony.
“My son did the hardest thing I think anyone can do. He broke the heart of the woman he loves to protect her—to give her a chance at her own happiness, no matter how much it deprived him of his. And while I feel guilty he upset you, I won’t deny how I’m proud of him. I raised him to care more about other people than himself, and that to me is a win. So, please, have it in your heart to forgive him. Fight for him like my husband fought for me. Show him that the sun doesn’t stop shining, even on the worst of days.” She squeezes my hand before letting go.
“What if he rejects me again?”
“He might.” Her lips press together in a thin line. “But I think the second question you should ask yourself is, ‘What if he accepts you, screwed up future and all, because he couldn’t imagine a world without you in it?’”
And like that, Vera and I stare out into the ocean, both in our own worlds.
I come to the realization that not every love story is written the same way. From the start, Jax and I were never meant for any basic ending with the boy chasing the girl into the sunset. In our story, I’m the one who needs to embrace the dark to pull him out and save him. F
rom our past. For our future. And most of all, for the love I know is stronger than any shitty diagnosis or anxiety.
I don’t need a happy ending. I need our ending. The one that might be messy and imperfect, but exclusively ours.
And it’s about damn time I go and fight for what I know is rightfully mine.
50
Jax
I always thought I was a miserable, insufferable bastard before Elena. But life without Elena? It’s like living in the eye of a hurricane. It’s calm, quiet, but you’re painfully aware of destruction looming nearby.
Liam frowns at me from across my suite. “You look like shit. I wouldn’t have guessed you placed P1 for tomorrow’s race based on how depressed you’ve been.”
“I might not look it, but I’m thrilled for the season to be over tomorrow. I’m ready for a break.”
“For a break or for a binger?”
Besides my one moment of weakness the night of the Singapore Grand Prix, I haven’t touched a lick of alcohol since I broke up with Elena. Not even Jack can cure the Elena-sized hole in my chest, no matter how much I wish it did.
And you bet your arse I wish it did.
“A break. I want to spend time with my parents.” And I want to heal. I can’t do that when I’m living under Connor’s microscope and F1’s excessive demands.
“Will your new babysitter join you?”
Sam, my latest ankle monitor and constant reminder of how much I ruined my life, hangs out on the couches outside of my suite, giving me privacy for once all day.
“No. Connor trusts me to behave this time.” Probably because I won’t be a burden anymore.
“That’s shocking. I thought he’d be the first one to want you supervised after last time.”
“He doesn’t have a reason to worry anymore. I’m done with F1 after tomorrow.”
Liam stares at me with wide eyes. “What? Not a funny joke, asshole.”
“I’m not joking.”
“You’re quitting? What the fuck has gotten into you?” He scowls.
“I haven’t been fully honest with you.” I look away.
“No shit.”
I take the deepest breath, hoping it gives me additional courage. These are the moments I wish I had a Xan. I let it all out, telling Liam about everything since my parents told me Mum had Huntington’s. The pills, the alcohol, the constant anxiety crippling me to the point of barely living. By the end of my story, we’re both silent and processing. Liam gets up from the other couch and sits next to me. He looks stunned.
“I’m all for our bromance, but I don’t need your tears.” I elbow him in the ribs.
Liam wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me into him in the manliest hug I’ve experienced. “You’re a stupid asshole for keeping this all to yourself. I would’ve been there for you if you had only asked.”
“I didn’t want to be a bother to anyone. Plus, you have Sophie now, and Noah has Maya.”
“We’d be the shittiest friends if we ignored you for our girlfriends when you needed us the most. And let’s be real, if there’s anything about me and Noah you’d expect, it’s that we never half-ass anything, friendships included.” He smacks me on the back and lets go. “You don’t need to face any of this alone. If you want to quit racing, we’ll stand by you the whole time. You deserve to do what makes you happy.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be happy.” A life without Elena, even if I live by myself near my parents’ house, sounds lonely as fuck.
“Bullshit. You only need to find what makes you feel that way. If it’s not racing, so be it. If it means moving back to London and moving on with life, then have at it. You have a big enough bank account to not work another day in your life.”
“The biggest.” I wink at him.
Liam laughs up to the ceiling. “All I know is I’m going to miss you. Please beat Noah’s ass tomorrow so you can leave F1 in style. I won’t accept anything less.”
Sweat drenches my back as my engine rumbles against my spine. The lights shut off in front of me. I press my foot to the pedal and take off, the sounds of screeching tires echoing behind me. My car makes it through the first corner before my earpiece buzzes with activity.
“Hey. Keep up the pace and mind your tires. And watch out for Noah because he wants to ride your ass.”
I monitor Noah the entire time I race, making sure not to give him many opportunities to pass me. Turn after turn we battle for the first-place spot. He takes the lead once, but I beat him back after a successful pit stop.
“You’re turning too wide at corner three,” an engineer speaks through the team radio.
My breathing grows heavier as I continue to push toward the finish line. Blurs of crowds pass me, screaming as the rushing cars fly by.
Noah inches up toward my rear wing, but I smash the accelerator, flying through another lap. With one last go around the track, I need to push my car to the limit.
Chris makes his presence known again. “Steady. Don’t screw this up in the last lap.”
I concentrate on the track in front of me while minding my mirrors as I push the race car to its breaking point. Turn after turn, I keep my lead, not giving Noah much space to pass me. With one last turn, I surge down the final straight of the Prix.
Fireworks go off as I pass the checkered flag. The sounds of roaring crowds pull a smile from me as I run through the track for a cool down lap.
“You fucking did it. Damn, you’re a two-time World Champion. Good work, Kingston!” Chris yells.
I throw my fist in the air, enjoying the last lap of my career.
My eyes are deceiving me. There’s no other explanation for the apparition standing to the side of the podium, watching me.
Elena motherfucking Gonzalez, in the flesh. She smiles at me and waves, rocking a McCoy T-shirt with my number on it. Liam, Sophie, Maya, and Elías stand next her, cheering us on.
What the hell is she doing here? But more importantly, why is she smiling at me like I hung the fucking moon for her?
I attempt to ignore her as Noah pours champagne all over me, but my eyes find hers every time. When they hand me my trophy, I smile at her before lifting it in the air. The crowd goes wild as Noah and Santiago spray champagne on screaming fans.
The announcers call for the end of the celebration, and I exit the stage. I take a look at her. A good long look, wondering how the hell I deserved her visiting my final Prix despite everything I’ve done. I stroll toward her, soaking her in like the earth in the middle of a rainstorm after a year-long drought.
“Hey.” She offers me a small, nervous smile.
“What are you doing here?” I fight my smile and fail.
“I wanted to see what a World Champion looked like up close and personal. Figured it was worth checking out if the final podium meets the hype.”
“Did it meet your standards?”
“Not really. I expected better fireworks to be honest.”
I shake my head at her. What the fuck is she doing here?
She grabs my hand and tugs me away from my friends. A zing of energy courses up my arm at our contact. I’m tempted to pull away, but I allow myself the moment of torture.
Although I’m happy she came—elated even—I can’t exactly express it. I’m on standby as she pulls me through the crowds before leading me toward a dark motorhome.
“You don’t have to look conflicted about having me here.” She places her palm against my cheek.
I lean into it, craving her touch like the fucked-up man I am. What’s the harm in a few minutes of her attention, even though I know it will devastate me once she leaves? “I’m happy you’re here. Honest fucking truth.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I wasn’t sure if you’d ignore me or kiss me.”
I remain silent because I’m afraid my words will betray how I truly feel about her. As much as I wished for her to be here, it’s not what should happen.
Elena sighs. “I might as well get this over with.�
�� She rubs her thumb across my stubble before pulling away. “First off, you’re the most frustrating man I have ever met. You pushed me away on purpose and if you ever do that to me again, I will threaten bodily harm.”
“I don’t know wha—”
She presses a finger against my lips, shutting me up. “Save the bullshit for anyone but me. I know, Jax. I know about it all.” Her voice becomes somber as she stares at me with tears reflecting off her eyes.
“What do you mean?” my voice croaks.
“I know you didn’t get the news you wanted. I know you said every terrible thing to get me to run away. That you somehow got Connor to pay my entire year salary despite being fired, and how Bandini hired me because of your connection. You tried your best to make sure I was okay without you, even though I most definitely wasn’t. You don’t need to pretend anymore that you’re okay. I don’t want you to. I want the good and the bad, and everything in between with you.”
I lean my forehead against hers and let out a deep breath. “Who told you?”
“Does it matter who? That’s not the point.”
“No, but is that the reason you came here? Because of me helping you?”
“No.” She lets out an agitated breath. “I came here because you deserve the whole goddamn world and every snow-globe moment. And I’m selfish because I want all those moments to be with me.”
I shut my eyes, shielding the yearning. “I should walk away. Permanently.”
She scoffs. “I’d like to see you try. I don’t care about any of it. Nothing about your diagnosis scares me. You could start having symptoms tomorrow, and I’d want to be there for you every single day after. I’ve been through drastic losses in my life and the last thing I want is to lose the person I love because he would rather be alone than with me.” Her voice breaks.
I grip her neck and force her to look up at me. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Who said anything about asking? I’m taking our future into my own hands.”
