Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“Yet you did.” He taps his pen against the desk.

One deep breath. Two deep breaths. Three—oh fuck this shit.

“I took the genetic test.”

Connor’s face shifts from anger to compassion. “Fuck.”

“I didn’t get the results I was hoping.” I look away from Connor’s gaze, afraid to see his pity. Accepting others’ sympathy feels like a way of accepting my disease, and I’m not ready for that.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Jax, even though my apology can never be enough for you. How can I help?”

I swallow, fighting the thoughts threatening to consume me. I’ve avoided talking to everyone about it, including my parents because denial seems safer than accepting the bleak outcome of my life.

The first thought I had yesterday was how I needed to push Elena away. Not because of my own selfish reasons, but because I couldn’t be selfish enough. And let’s face it—a lot of decisions in my life have been centered around myself. But ending things with Elena? That was 100% the most difficult thing I did to myself.

“I want things to be normal. I don’t need anyone else knowing before the season ends. If I even decide to say anything.”

“But is the pressure good for you? I don’t want F1 to put your body through more stress.”

“This is all I have going for me. I’ve survived my whole life behind the wheel so I think I can handle the rest of the season.”

Connor nods his head. “I’ll help Elena out. Don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t tell her it’s because of me, please.”

“You’re really letting her go?”

I look away. “She was never mine to keep. Life with me would be like living in a gilded cage—pretty to look at, but a cage nonetheless.”

I’ve never experienced a pain quite like breaking Elena’s heart. Learning about my diagnosis and ruining any chance of me having a future with the person I love all in twenty-four hours drained me. I fight everything in me to not call her and beg for a chance. To not fight for her and us because I can’t imagine not having her around.

It takes a gross amount of strength to enter our bedroom after this morning’s fight.

My bedroom.

I take a shower to give myself something to do. Something in the trash bin catches my eye when I’m about to exit the bathroom. I grab the bin and tip it upside down. Every nightlight I bought Elena falls into the sink. The dull pain in my chest becomes a full-blown wound as I find her little purple notes she must’ve taken out of my bottle of pills.

I struggle between wanting to smash my fist into the mirror and grabbing a mini bottle of alcohol from the fridge to drown my emotions. Fighting the urge, I vote against the two options, hoping I can control myself enough to get past this rough patch.

I pluck the notes from the sink. Instead of returning them to the bin, I put them in my carry-on bag. My hands shake as I throw each nightlight back in the bin because I have no use for them.

I lay in the dark, struggling to fall asleep for the first time without Elena. To avoid the temptation of calling her, I head to the bathroom to grab a drink of water. The bin filled with the lights taunts me once again. On a whim, I grab one and plug it into the outlet on Elena’s side of the bed.

I stare at the F1 car and hope she can find it in her heart one day to love someone else. Causing her pain now rather than later seemed like the better option, but the reasoning behind my actions doesn’t ease the pain in my chest.

I can’t imagine her pushing me around in a wheelchair or giving up her choice of having her own child. Her life has been plagued with sacrifice after sacrifice, and I can’t find it in me to be selfish enough to add to her misery.

I close my eyes, accepting the heartbreak, knowing I made the right choice for her.

Mum knocks on my door before coming into the hotel bedroom. “Your dad wanted me to ask if you were interested in grabbing dinner with us? We don’t want you going to bed hungry before your qualifier tomorrow.”

I don’t bother getting up from the bed. After putting on a fake face during practice rounds, all I wanted to do was wallow in my feelings. “No thanks. I’m fine calling for a meal in a bit.”

Mum moves to the other side of the bed and climbs onto it. She lies down and grabs my hand like I’m a little kid again. “Tell me how I can make this better. How can I fix it?”

“There’s nothing to fix. It’s done because I destroyed everything.”

She squeezes my hand tighter. “You can always apologize. If you regret it, it’s never too late to make things right with Elena. You’re in a vulnerable place right now. She would understand more than anyone how things can spiral out of control.”