Page 129 of Promise

He holds me tighter. “Those keys are for the Camaro.”

The Chevy Camaro he’d gotten for a steal and fixed up on his own. I hadn’t exactly forgotten the car, I’d simply put it out of my head.

“Max brought it back to me.” Dart pauses. “Well, he brought it somewhere to the race.”

Dart stares at me, his eyes wild, pinging from one of mine to the other.

“I’d given Max the car as collateral when I first started racing. Until I had my first big win. But as I traveled often and used Velocity’s cars, he’s been holding onto it for me.”

“I thought . . . ” I swallow thickly. “I thought he was giving you a car again. A team car.”

Dart chuckles, sliding his hands to the side of my neck and pausing there. “No. No, I am not going back to racing.”

I’m stunned, and I blink like that will make me hear him better. Like that will make the words clearer.

“But you want to go back,” I state. A fact I saw written on his face while I stood beside him.

“Says who?” His brows lift, his tone teasing. “I’m not going back to racing, Trin. My life is here. With you. With Mirabelle.”

“But you love racing,” I argue. “The speed. The rush.”

“I do. And I’ll love to watch it, but I’m not going to participate in it anymore. I don’t want to. I’m happy to slow down. Time with Mirabelle is going to go faster than we think.”

I’m still flabbergasted. “You need purpose.”

My hands have been hanging by my side, but I wave one, which knocks into his chest. He releases my neck and catches my hand, pinning it against him, dragging it up over his heart.

“You’re my purpose, Trin. You and Mirabelle.” He lowers his head so he meets my eyes, holding them, like he wants me to really hear him, feel him.

“I’d been chasing a high that never felt fulfilled. Never fully complete. My situation had become a racetrack metaphor, Trin. I’d been chasing taillights, going round in circles, but feeling like I’d never catch up to whatever I was following. Even crossing a finish line hadn’t made me feel like a winner. Not in a long time. You’re my win, Forever. You and Mirabelle.”

“Then what did Max want?” I ask, my voice cracking as I’m still trying to process how I’m enough for him. How Mirabelle is enough.

Dart shrugs. “I have no idea. As soon as my wife ran off, I chased her.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” I lower my voice and drop my gaze.

“Yeah, I did. Because I’m always going to chase you, Trin. I’m sorry I took a detour. A bump in the road, but I love you. You are my dream, Forever. You and Mirabelle. I love you more than any track or car or whatever else you want to compare.” He tips his forehead to mine. “There is no comparison.”

“I don’t want to hold you back,” I admit on a sob, fighting to swallow it back.

Dart lifts his head. “Trin, you have never held me back. Not once. You let me go, and then you took me back. I’ll always be so . . . grateful. Did I want you there? Of course. But did I maybe need to do it alone? I think I did. And look where it brought me, right back to where I should have been all along. Beside you.”

“But what if you grow bored? What if you tire of diapers and bottles and taking care of Mirabelle? What if you feel restless again? What if I’m not enough again?” I make a fist, clutching it to my chest, because he’s always worried that he wasn’t enough, but what if I’m not?

“You are enough.” He chuckles, like it’s the most absurd thought he’s ever heard. “You were always enough, baby. Racing was about me, but now . . . I’m done. It was thrilling but risky, and I don’t want to risk missing out on us. On our family. Watching Mirabelle grow up. Loving you.”

“Our family,” I whisper-choke. Because he is part of our family. We are three. Mirabelle, me, and Dart.

“Am I somehow failing her?” he chokes. “Failing you? Right now. Right here. No what ifs.”

I shake my head. He’s been so present. More than I ever imagined because I never imagined Mirabelle. I never imagined this second chance with him.

“Sure, some days are tiring, maybe even stagnating, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel like I have a new purpose.” Dart stands taller. “I love Mirabelle. She’s my purpose. We are my priority.” He waves between us. “And I want to be here for all of it. The good, the bad, and the boring.” He chuckles, the sound soggy, as he removes his hands from my neck.

“I am here for us,” he chokes, swallowing hard.

Dart Rivers, who I have never seen cry in my life, has tears in his eyes.