Page 178 of The Champion
“He is.”
Nadia wasn’t exactly all brains but she picked up on mylie and smiled.
“Nadia, I think we need to talk about some things.”
She smiled again, her innocence showing and I wanted topunch her. I know it would be immature but any woman in their right mind, inside,wants to resort to childlike tendencies when their children or man is beingthreatened. With Jameson, don’t think I wanted to mark my territory a time ortwo because I did and now wasn’t any different. But, I’d like to think I was alittle more mature than that. I hoped I was. So I took the mature route.
“I know that you have been trying to tempt my husband.”She started to interject but I held up my hand. “Now before you start defendingyour actions or saying he’s attracted to you or whatever, I’ve heard them allbefore. The thing is,” I tipped my head slightly trying to find the best way toput it and then I just decided I didn’t give a shit. There was no lite way ofputting it. She just needed to know. “You seem to have this version of Jamesonyou’ve created in your head as a guy who would leave his wife. You see theversion of Jameson who battles each week with other racers and gets in thefaces of reporters who question his fighting for the win. You don’t see theversion he lets me see which is the part of him that is broken, bare andvulnerable to the words that could destroy him. I do. I see that because I’mhiswife.”
Nadia looked at me for a long moment before her eyesshifted to the sign that read “JAR Racing” outside the parking lot.
Her gaze shifted back to me, wounded but seeing what Iintended her to see.
“Not many guys take a girl in racing seriously.” Shespoke softly. “He did. He raced me the way any other driver would and for that,I respected him. I just thought, well I thought wrong. I’m sorry.”
After a few more parting words, we went about our ways.
I’d honestly thought that’d be the last time I saw Nadiacome on to Jameson but it wasn’t. She tried numerous times to get to Jamesonall with no success. For me personally, I had to keep in mind that this sort ofthing happened with this lifestyle. We would never be immune to it just asthere would always be rival drivers. We had to have a trust with each otherthough even if we were down a lap at times.
Lapped Traffic – Jameson
“What are you going to tell her?”
I just grunted in reply at first and then realized who Iwas talking to as that answer wouldn’t fly.
“I guess I would say...”I started to speak and then stopped.
For the past week, I’d been holding on and hoping not tofall apart without her.
When that didn’t work, I just went about my day prayingshe’d take me back. In my head I told myself I’d give her one more day and I’mcalling. Well that was three weeks ago and I still hadn’t called because Ididn’t know what to say.
That’s when my dad told me she was home. There I was, onthe plane back to Mooresville Sunday evening, going over schedules for the nextseason and sponsorships, my dad knew before I did.
I wasn’t surprised. Lately, I have been involved morewith the business side of Riley-Simplex Racing as I was with JAR Racing and forthat my time was limited. Usually I preferred to just drive the cars but Ienjoyed my dad coming to me and asking what I thought of certain moves withinthe company. After all, our program had grown considerably in the last fifteenyears.
The more I thought about what I’d say to Sway, the more Ididn’t know and just blurted out what I thought.
“That I love her and I’m sorry.” I told him handing himmy recommendations on the third driver he was adding next year.
“Jesus, I thought you were smarter than that.”
I wasn’t sure if he was referring to my idea with Sway ormy thoughts on his driver picks.
“And what would you say old wise one?”
“For starters, I would try to understandwhyshe’sbothered so much by the lying.”
Right, he was talking about Sway.
I didn’t like that my dad was right, but he had a point.He always did.
That week after she left I called every day but it wentstraight to voicemail. Van assured me she was fine and I didn’t press as towhat she was doing. I said I’d give her time and that I did. That’s a lie, Ididn’t agree to any of this but what choice did I have? I fucked up, again.
There was only one way to fix this and I needed herforgiveness and trust—which weren’t things that she just gave up.
When I arrived home in Mooresville that night, I wassurprised and relieved to see Sway’s car there. What surprised me even more washer crying in our bed.
Part of me, the paranoid part, envisioned her with asuitcase, waiting on the front porch.
