C.C.
For the rest of the day, Trip happily showed me all his favorite places to hang out and chill and his favorite places to eat, but when he showed me the Rosewood Lake on Rosewood Mountain, I actually stopped to enjoy the view.
It was utterly breathtaking, the clear crystal water reflecting the mountains, making it hard to tell where one began or the other ended. Surrounded by pine and fir trees, the lake looked magical. In a way it reminded me of the bayou as the golden hues of sunset painted the sky. I stood at the water’s edge, my arms wrapped around myself as if holding onto this moment. Trip gave me space, leaning against a tree, content just to watch me take it all in.
“It’s beautiful,” I said finally, my voice low and steady. “I can feel the stillness here. It’s... different.”
Trip chuckled softly, stepping closer. “Different good, or different bad?”
I turned to him, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun. “Different good,” I replied. “I think I needed this more than I realized.”
He smiled, and my heart swelled with quiet satisfaction. “Rosewood tends to have that effect on people.”
We lingered there for a while, the world around us falling into a peaceful silence broken only by the occasional ripple of the lake. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t thinking about the next race, the next rush, or the next finish line.
For once, I was just... here.
And that scared the crap out of me.
I didn’t know how to slow down. My whole life had been one race after another. All I’d wanted since I was a little girl was to sit behind the wheel of a racecar and drive over that finish line as the checkered flag waved above me. It was my dream and as much as I enjoyed the slower side of life, I knew I wasn’t willing to give up everything I’d been dreaming of.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the lake took on a new hue, the golden light transforming into a soft pink and purple glow. It was as if the mountains themselves were blushing. I felt a sense of peace here, an unfamiliar calm in the stillness of this place. Trip’s presence beside me, solid and reassuring, only added to the tranquility of the moment. I knew I could get used to this—a life of quiet moments and simple joys. But then, like a flash of lightning, the fear returned. Could I really give up the rush of the race, the adrenaline that had fueled my entire life? Was I ready to trade in my dreams for this unfamiliar, yet alluring serenity?
Trip, sensing my inner turmoil, took my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay to want both, C.C.,” he murmured, as if reading my mind.
That was the problem. I didn’t know how to make it work. Everything I had, everything I was, I gave to the track. I didn’t have anything left for anyone else. I was so close to my dream; I could almost reach out and touch it.
I just never thought there would be a roadblock in my way.
Not that I really considered Trip a roadblock.
A distraction maybe, but not a deterrent. I only had a certain number of years before I became obsolete, and someone better came along to take my place. In that brief span, I had to stay focused and give the circuit everything I had. Theoretically, I could get married, but the second I got pregnant, the circuitwould slam the brakes on my career. There were rules and pregnant woman couldn’t race. The circuit wouldn’t allow it.
“I can’t have both, Trip, and you know it.” I sighed. “There are rules for female drivers. Strict ones.”
Trip’s gaze held steady, unyielding but not unkind, as if he understood the weight of what I was grappling with. He didn’t say anything right away, didn’t try to rush me into deciding, and I appreciated that. Instead, the silence stretched between us, comfortable but charged.
The lake reflected the dimming light, a subtle kaleidoscope of emotions I couldn’t put into words. My dream of becoming the best on the circuit had always been clear—like the sharp edges of the checkered flag at the finish line—but now it was muddled, blurred by the possibility of something equally beautiful but utterly unfamiliar.
“C.C., there’s no rule that says your life has to follow only one lane,” Trip said finally, his voice low and steady. “The track might have its rules, but your heart doesn’t. It’s big enough to hold more than one dream.”
I wanted to believe him. The ache inside me wanted to trust that maybe, just maybe, I could have both. But the reality clung to me like a lead weight, dragging me back to the harsh truth of the circuit’s relentless demands.
Trip shifted closer, his warmth surrounding me as he held me tight, while his words hung in the air, threading through the quiet rhythm of my thoughts. A part of me wanted to believe him, even as the other part braced itself against the possibility of disappointment. My dreams had always been rigid, defined by the roar of engines and the snap of the checkered flag. But now his words stirred questions I wasn’t prepared to answer.
“You make it sound so simple,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s not simple,” Trip admitted. “But it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Sometimes the hardest roads lead to the most worthwhile destinations.”
The lake’s surface rippled, catching the fading sunlight and fracturing it into a thousand tiny shards of gold. It felt symbolic, somehow. My life, my ambitions—they were fractured too, splintered between the blazing fast lane of my career and the quieter, steadier path Trip seemed to offer.
I turned in his arms, searching his face for something I couldn’t quite name. A promise? A guarantee? But all I found was unwavering calm, the kind of calm that came from someone who understood the turbulence of chasing dreams.
Trip wasn’t asking me to give up the track, and he wasn’t asking me to choose him over everything else. He was simply asking me to consider the possibility that my life didn’t have to be confined to one narrow road. His words echoed, tugging at the edges of my resolve.
“You think I’m brave enough for that?” I asked, a hint of wryness coloring my tone.
Trip’s smile was small, but sure. “C.C., I think you’re brave enough for anything.”
