Page 169 of First in Line

“I don’t know how you do it,” I whisper. “Any of it. Your job is so demanding on every level. Physical, emotional, personal, psychological…”

“I’ve grown used to it. It comes with the job. You’ll get used to it as well, princess.”

He says it so casually. Like becoming numb to millions of strangers dissecting your life is a normal thing. Like learning not to care when people reduce you to headlines and rumors is simply part of being famous. It shouldn’t be.

But it’s too late because I kissed him in the paddock. I walked beside him publicly. To the rest of the world, I wear his name again, even if not legally anymore. Strangers are digging through my childhood, my background, the trailer park and every broken little piece of my life just because they can. When they find out about my mom, things will get even worse. If they harass her for answers, invade her peace, the stress could cause her to relapse. Crap, my sister… We aren’t close, so I haven’t told her about reuniting with Jax. But she’ll find out soon enough and they might come for her, too.

My God, what will happen when they find out about Ophelia? Will they callously use the tragedy we went through to sellmore papers? The thought alone as my stomach churning, bile gathering in the back of my tongue.

I want to trust Jax, but I’m not sure I can ever get used to this. I can’t imagine ever being as numb as he is to the ugliness of the internet.

In the end, I think all those people on the internet are right. I don’t belong in his world. Not anymore. Not like I used to back then. I shouldn’t be in it with him.

But I belong with him. And I always will. Being here, pressed onto him, feels like the most natural thing. I’m right where I should be.

We both know that. In fact, we might be the only two people who do. It should be enough. It has to be enough.

And I hate that I’m not sure it is.

CHAPTER

THIRTY

Jackson

As soon as the elevator doors open, I rush past them and into the bright hallway. Eyes on the wall before me, I look at the sign to know which direction to take. Left. Room 231 is on the left.

Going as fast as I can without running, I make my way toward it. When I pass a desk with a nurse behind it, she tries to stop me with, “Monsieur! Monsieur, c’est trop tôt pour les visites!”

I ignore her, only stopping when I reach the door. Twenty-eight hours. It took me twenty-eight never-ending hours to get here. First, a flight from Melbourne to Abu Dhabi, then to Brussels, and a foot-to-the-floor race from the airport to here. The drive should have taken me an hour and a half, but I did it in one.

Ever since I heard the first panicked voice message from my mom, I’ve been a mess, frantically trying to return home to my wife. Now that I’m here, though… I can’t seem to find the courage to open the door, fingers tightly clenched around the handle.

I’m too late.

I didn’t make it in time to hold my daughter while she still breathed.

Fresh tears gather in my eyes. They’ve been on and off since I heard my mom’s voice message upon landing in Abu Dhabi. Ophelia was only a part of this world for six hours. A little less. And I didn’t get to hold her, to let her know how much I loved her.

My hand comes to my mouth, pressed on it to contain the choked sound that rips out of it.

I’m too fucking late.

My grief flows down my face as I try to gather myself. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was supposed to be a dad. To have a perfect little daughter to cherish and spoil. Not this.

When I left for Australia, I knew there was a risk of missing my baby’s birth. I made the calculated decision to fly there regardless, thinking the worst thing that would happen would be to miss her first few days of life. But I’d still get to come home to find my wife with our firstborn in her arms.

I never imagined this would be the outcome. That I would miss Ophelia’s only few hours.

The handle moves in my hand, but not from me. When it gets tugged away, I let go. Mom appears on the other side of it, weariness veiling her saddened face.

“Jackson?”

“Mom, I—I …”

All the sorrow that I’ve tried so hard to contain release at once. A helpless wail rips out of me as I close my eyes tightly.

“Oh, baby,” she murmurs, taking me into her arms as jerky sobs shake me uncontrollably.