Page 128 of Off the Mark
I laughed a little, squeezing his hand. “Okay, it's…never been your strong suit.”
“It’s not. And over time, I put a lot of pressure on you to fix everything, like it was your job. It’s not your job. Though you’ve got a big heart for always trying and it’s one of the reasons why I love you so much.”
I was surprised at how stunned I was, shocked by the sensation of a weight lifting from my shoulders. An understanding between the two of us that wouldn’t be immediate, but now we had achance—a chance to be open, a chance to change.
“I love you too, Dad,” I said. “Maybe we can keep talking about some of these tough memories? Because I would like that.”
“I would love it.” He bent to rummage in a bag. “And don't think I couldn't come all this way without a gift.”
He pulled out a slightly faded racing jacket that was in great condition. He shook it out and showed me the back. Our last name was spelled in all caps in large white letters with orange flames decorating the sides.
“What do you think?” he asked. “It’s a classic.”
I laughed, delighted, and held out my arms for him to pull it on. I tugged the zipper up and did a little twirl. “Oh, Dad, I love it. Why not race around that track in style?”
“That’s what I was thinking,” he said, now holding up my helmet. I let him place it on my head the way I had as a kid. His eyes were wet. So were mine. “I can’t change the past, Charlie, but I can tell you all of this”—he waved his hand around at the commotion surrounding us—“all of this was nothin’ compared to how proud I was to be your dad. How proud I am every single day.”
I bit my lip, trying not to cry too hard before the most important race of my career. “I’m always proud to be your daughter. Because I love you.”
He tapped me on the tip of the nose. “I love you too. Now go get ’em, tiger. Let’s show all these people that the Maddoxes know how to fly.”
The five-minute countdown started, sending all of us to our bikes behind the start gates. I swung a leg over the seat, snapped on my goggles, and pulled on my gloves. I saw Riley down the line and waved. Engines roared, dust flew up, and the flag was poised to fall.
Past the thundering bikes, wild and rowdy in the stands, my community was screaming my name. I grinned, catching Rowan’s eye and holding it, basking in his love.
In fact, I was so focused on my ginger hunk that when the flag fell, I thought for sure that I’d lose.
I didn’t.
I won.
I knew why—it was a combination of Alice’s good luck charm, my neighbors cheering in the stands, and the fact that I was just that incredible. And at the finish line, Rowan was waiting, arms wide and an ecstatic smile I would remember for the rest of my life.
I leapt into those strong arms, and he spun me in a circle, a rain of rainbow confetti falling all around us.
Dimly, I heard an announcer call, “This year’s championship winner is Charlie Maddox.” Fans surged forward, the crowd pressed close, but Rowan and I were lost in our own world together.
I knew that real, authentic love wasn’t always spinning in a sea of confetti—though that’s how he made me feel every single day. All the tough and complicated parts wouldn’t disappear. But it sure did feel easier confronting them together.
It was like soaring my bike off a jump—accepting the fear also meant welcoming the exhilaration. Rowanwasmy exhilaration. The person who made me feel weightless and dazzling.
And finally, finally free.
EPILOGUE
ROWAN
Two years later
We were playing the game—and I was definitely losing.
Both of us were laying across the hood of Charlie's truck, drowsy and relaxed under the heat of the shimmering Arizona sun. I kicked my bare feet against hers. She stroked her fingers lazily through my hair.
And our matching wedding rings glinted a shiny gold.
“What about this one?” I said.
She arched an eyebrow. “Try me.”
