“Where were you?” I asked.
“I flew into Dallas . . . business meeting.”
Bile formed in my throat. “W-what kind of business meeting?”
“I talked with Mr. Elliot, my boss. Told him I met with one of the NASCAR doctors and they cleared me for racing.”
It felt like a piece of lead was in my stomach. I stood there dumbfounded as I let his words soak in. “You’ve been cleared to race? Malcolm . . . you still have issues with your knee and I know you’re hiding the pain. I can see it on your face.”
Something moved across his face as his eyes turned dark and not in good way. “You don’t know shit, Paislie. I need to be in that car. You don’t understand.”
I took a step back, my eyes filling with tears. “No. I don’t understand. Please enlighten me, Malcolm. Why do you have such a need to be behind the wheel? Are you trying to kill yourself?”
A look passed over his face . . . as if a memory hit him.
“I need the rush.”
“And you can’t get that rush from something else? From someone else?”
He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth shut. I scrubbed my hands down my face. “Why do you even bother to have me here doing therapy if you’re just going to do the things you want to do?”
“I don’t need therapy anymore. I’m fine now.”
It felt like I’d been slapped across my face as he gave me a blank stare. “So that’s it? Does that mean we’re through?”
His eyes softened. “Why would you say that?”
“Oh I don’t know, Malcolm. Because you’ve tried at least three times today to say or do something to push me away or cause me to hurt.”
“Hurt?” he asked with a puzzled look on his face.
“Call me crazy, but when the man you love tells you he liked the company of another woman today, tells you to shut up, then walks away from you and drives off with not so much as a goodbye. That fucking hurts. I stood there like a damn fool while you drove off without saying a word to me. Nothing! You don’t do that to someone you care about.” I didn’t even care that his parents were standing in the room.
Horror filled his eyes as he glanced over my shoulder to his mother and back to me. “You don’t love me, Casey, you just think you do.”
My heart dropped and I couldn’t breathe. That was the final blow. I never imagined I could actually feel my heart breaking like I did that very moment.
Shirley gasped as I heard her walk over to me. I used to think the woman hated me, but in that moment, her hand on my shoulder told me she understood what I was feeling.
I slowly shook my head as tears rolled down my cheeks. Standing up taller, I squared off my shoulders and attempted to talk without my voice cracking while I quickly wiped my tears away. My chest felt as if someone had placed a hundred pound weight on it as I fought for the words to speak.
“You’re so wrong, Malcolm. I do love you and I’m sorry you don’t feel the same. I let you in and I honestly thought you were the last person in the world who would ever hurt me.” With the back of my fingers, I wiped more tears away as I turned my body but stopped. Slowly looking over my shoulder at him, I managed to say one last thing. “And my name is Paislie. Not Casey.”
His eyes widened in shock while he stumbled back a few steps. “Shit. Baby, I didn’t mean to call you that.”
I turned to face him as I let a sob slip through my lips. “Don’t call me that.”
He took a few steps toward me. “Paislie, wait I’m so sorry and I’m not sure why I’ve been acting this way . . . but let me explain one thing.”
My hand came up to stop him. “Stop. Just don’t say anything else. I’m leaving.”
He grabbed my arm. “Wait. Let me just talk to you.”
Pushing his arm away, I shook my head. “You’ve had plenty of chances to talk to me. I can’t do this. You promised me you wouldn’t do this. I’m not your dead girlfriend and if that’s all I was to you . . . a replacement . . . then you’re more fucked up than I thought you were.”
He shook his head. “No, it’s nothing like that. I swear to you.” His head jerked back. “Wait. How did you know about Casey?”
My phone beeped with a text message. Glancing down, I saw my father’s name scroll across along with the beginning of his message. Baby, I need to borrow some money. Can you ask your rich boyfriend?