It isn’t, but I don’t bother arguing with her. I doubt this is easy to share.
“The thing is my mom is forgetful, especially if she was high when she locked me in my room.” Her voice cracks, and something in my chest tightens at the sound. “That’s why I hate small spaces. It’s like I’m taken back to those years, and there’s some automatic response in my body that protests to get out.”
I drag my body across the floor to get to her side. She accepts me wrapping my arm around her and pulling her into my side. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”
I want to say more, but the words don’t come easy. And I don’t want to scare her by revealing how much I’m like her.
“It’s all right. There’s no reason to get upset. It’s in the past.”
“Is it? How can anyone move past that?”
“Because then I’d lose sight of what’s important.”
By this point, I’m sure Chloe can hear my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
“And what’s that?”
“Life is about creating the memories that matter, while forgetting the ones that don’t.”
I want to create new memories. With my family, with racing, and maybe even with Chloe.
I can’t change the fact that I lost my leg. But I wonder if I truly have been looking at my life all wrong since the accident. Maybe Chloe is right, and I can’t jump into something serious with her if I can’t accept myself first.
I want to see what she sees in me. I’ve lived the past three years in a world of black and white. Depression and isolation ate away at the man I was, creating someone I don’t recognize. So, yes, I want to experience the world through Chloe’s eyes because it’s like seeing color for the first time. It’s breathtaking and spectacular, fundamentally shifting life as I know it.
She’s my kaleidoscope in a world of gray.
30
Chloe
Okay, getting stuck in an elevator last night wasn’t the worst experience of my life. It took two hours for the maintenance team to free Santiago and me from the small car. After my dismissal of his “let’s do it” proposition and my confession about my mom, we spent the better part of the ninety minutes not talking. I took his silence for what it was. Indifference.
He called my bluff. It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with him. But some issues take precedence, and what’s the point of being intimate if he can’t be comfortable enough to leave a flashlight on.
After we were freed from the car, we both pretended nothing ever happened. It worked out well since we both went to bed right away.
Except now, after a restless night of sleep, my skin heats from the memory of his lips on mine. Hell, of his lips on other places of my body, bringing about sensations I could only dream of. Brooke would be beside herself because it turns out Santiago really does have the skills to back up those ridiculous articles.
Overwhelmed doesn’t cover how I feel at the moment. Bandini mechanics, crew, and reps run around the car garage. Santiago, Maya, and his mom hang around Noah’s race car and chat together. I keep to myself, offering very little conversation.
For once, I don’t know what to say. It’s like all the words I learned in my short life have escaped my brain. Santiago pretends to be unfazed, but I read his body language like a book. His spine is straighter than a rod and his jaw remains permanently locked. He offers about as many words as me, which at this point is zilch.
“What do you think of the race scene?” Daniela looks in my direction.
“Oh, it’s umm...a lot.”
Santiago’s laugh catches in his throat. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“What do you know about F1?” Maya moves her attention from Marko to me.
“Oh, tons. Santiago loves to chat about his race days.”
Santiago stiffens beside me. Shit. Wrong thing to say. Oh, God. Is it too late to fake a sore throat?
“Oh, does he now?” Noah raises a brow. “Did he tell you how he beat me for the World Championship title once.”
Santiago rolls his eyes.