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“Why? I did what any driver would do today and tried to salvage something from that race.”

I shake my head. “Not about your drive today, although it was a brilliant one. I’m just proud of the way you’ve stood up for yourself. Starting with your dad.”

Mason doesn’t say anything. I continue—I want him to open up about this. “You haven’t told me what he said, but I know he accused you of the poor start and brought me into it. Like I was a distraction.”

His hand flexes against my thigh. “You’re never a distraction. Don’t ever think that.”

“I don’t.”

“Trust me, I think about you all the time, but when I’m on the track, all I’m thinking about is driving my car.”

Xavier’s words about Mason’s driving flash through my head. We’re in the back of the plane. Everyone else is in the front cabin, and they can’t hear us. It’s time to say something that Mason isn’t going to want to hear.

But I’ve got to say it. I’ve got to say it for him.

“You’re the one behind the wheel. You got there because of what you have done in the cockpit. Your dad could have invested all the money in the world into making you a Formula 1 driver, but if you didn’t have the talent or ability, it wouldn’t have mattered. Your dad doesn’t deserve to be in the cockpit with you, Mason. He doesn’t.”

Mason stares at me with a questioning look in his dark eyes as he tries to understand what I’m saying. “Do you think he’s in my head when I drive?” he asks point-blank.

“I think he subconsciously could be. He puts a lot of pressure on you to be perfect. I wonder if you would feel freer behind the wheel if you didn’t have that in the back of your head. Which is crazy to even say. You’re second to Xavier in the Drivers’ Championship, you’re on the podium all the time, you won the Dutch Grand Prix. But I can’t imagine the driver you could be if you didn’t feel as if you had to perform for your dad, to prove his investment was worth it. Because I’m going to tell you something: You have paid that in full.”

Mason’s eyes grow wide, but he remains silent.

I continue with what I need to say. “Mason. You’re trying so hard to prove his so-called ‘investment’ was worth it. To show him that all the money he spent on developing you wasn’t a waste. That’s a lot of pressure to perform under.”

He shakes his head firmly. “No. I manage it.”

“Babe, I think it’s more than that. Subconsciously you’re thinking about your dad, too. I don’t see how you could separate that. He’s ringing you before every qualifying session. Every race. Ringing you afterwards and telling you all the ways you messed up. Even when you win, he finds something negative to tell you. He’s filling your head with crap. Putting pressure on you even when you’ve won a race. That impacts you, and you can’t tell me it doesn’t.”

I pause for a moment, waiting to see if he will let me continue. Mason’s staring at me with a stunned expression on his face. My heart squeezes tight inside my chest because I know nobody has told him this before.

Not one person in his life who knows about his dad has told him the truth. And I have to be the one to do it.

Mason doesn’t speak, and I take that pause to continue. “You’re a brilliant driver. There’s a reason my family made a point to sign you away from Eclipse. You have what it takes to be a world champion. You’ve grown so much since you’ve been in the F1 seat, and this year, you’re consistently on the podium. You’re second behind Xavier in the Drivers’ Championship. But I can’t help but think of the driver you could be if you were truly driving for yourself.”

Now he looks as if I’ve slapped him, and I feel sick when I see the hurt, questioning look in his eyes. I stay quiet, letting him absorb my words and thoughts for a moment.

“I am driving for myself. For Collings Motors,” Mason says, his voice taking on a defiant edge. “Are you saying I let my dad, who has never even driven a kart, influence my driving?”

I move my knuckles to his cheek and brush them softly against his skin, sending him the message that I’m on his side with my touch. “I think it’s impossible not to. He’s in your head, Mason. All the time. Berating you and pushing you and holding some mythical reward out for you to grab, but only if you win. It’s not right. It’s sick, Mason. You have done nothing to deserve that.”

I see the defiance fade right out of his eyes, replaced by a searching expression. Mason is desperately trying to find a way to say my words aren’t true. “He has nothing to do with my driving.”

“I don’t know how that would be possible,” I say. “Because he has been blasting you with his toxicity non-stop since we’ve been together. And I know it’s been going on for years. How can you keep that out of your head? I’ve seen it twice in two races. You’re absorbing that over and over, every time you finish a race. That is not the support you deserve. And he’s not the father you deserve, Mason. He’s not.”

The sadness that takes over his face nearly makes me cry. I watch as his Adam’s apple moves as he tries to keep himself from breaking.

“This isn’t about racing or an investment,” I say softly. “Having power over you is what he truly wants, Mason. This is about power and control. Throwing the investment in your face is the leverage he thinks he has over you. So yes, I think it impacts your driving. How could it not? You’re human. This is your dad. It’s going to take a toll. And I can’t help but think of what kind of driver you could be without that toxicity around you.”

Mason doesn’t move. He’s staring at me with pain in his eyes, and I fight the urge to be sick. I’m hurting him. Really hurting him.

But I’m hurting him to help him. To set him free.

I bite my lower lip and force the tears away. Mason doesn’t need my emotions right now. He needs me to be the person who finally tells him the truth.

“My driving,” Mason says, his voice barely audible, “is more than fine. If Xavier weren’t having a mega year, I’d be leading the Championship.”

“You’re one of the top drivers in the world, Mason. I’m not disputing that. But I also wonder what your driving could be if you didn’t have your dad’s voice in your head. If you just got in that car and drove for yourself. Not for him. Not to try and prove his investment was worth it. Not to try and win his love, because no child should ever have to do that. I just wonder who you could be in that cockpit if you didn’t have that pressure and toxicity surrounding you.”