Page 31 of Formula Freedom (Race Fever #3)

I try to appeal to the tiny bit of heart that I hope is buried beneath all this loathing.

“If I ever meant anything to you, even as friends when we were kids. If you value the relationship between our families. If you have any bit of conscience over the way you treated me, I’m begging you, Lance…

please just accept this and stop making it so hard. Let it go and move on.”

Something flickers in his eyes, as if he’s truly considering my words. His grip relaxes on my wrist, and I pull it away from him.

Lance takes a step back, a defeated look on his face.

“You’re not who I thought you were,” he mutters.

“And neither are you.”

Silence stretches between us like a chasm.

He lingers for one beat longer—like he might say something else—but then he turns and walks out. The door closes behind him with a click that echoes through the house, and I heave out a massive sigh of relief.

I don’t move for a long time. Just stand there, breathing in the quiet, my heart pounding, my wrist still tingling even though he wasn’t hurting me.

But I did it.

It’s over.

And this time… I didn’t run.

I stand there for a while longer, staring at the door Lance just walked through, waiting for something final to click into place. But it doesn’t. Not exactly. It’s not relief, not sadness. Just a hollow, exhausted kind of quiet. Like the storm passed and left everything still standing but changed.

My first instinct is to call Reid. To tell him it’s done, that I’m okay, that Lance is gone and I stood my ground. I want him to hear it in my voice—that I meant every word, that I chose him without hesitation, that I’m coming back.

I reach for my phone… thumb hovering over his name in my favorites.

But I pause.

I know he’s busy with race week. I know he’s focused. But still… a part of me worries that the hurt might be too much for him. Maybe even doubting me. And maybe I deserve that.

So, I lower the phone without dialing.

Not yet.

What I can do is make sure the people who are most affected by this—aside from me—know the truth. Graham and Leanne deserve that, and I owe it to them. They’ve been caught in the middle, doing their best to stay neutral, but I know this has weighed heavily on them.

I sit on the edge of the couch and call Leanne Hemsworth, nerves knotting in my stomach as it rings.

She answers, her voice warm but tentative. “Lara?”

“Hi,” I say. “Sorry to call so early.”

“Not at all,” she replies. “Is everything okay?”

I swallow and stare down at my left hand where I used to wear Lance’s diamond. “I was wondering… do you and Graham have a minute to talk?”

There’s a pause on the other end, and I hear the faint clink of a coffee mug being set down. “Have you seen Lance?” she asks tentatively, but she knows by the tone of my voice I have.

“Yeah… he left just a few minutes ago.”

“Let me get Graham in here,” she says, now briskly efficient. She switches me over to speakerphone and then I hear Graham. “I’m here, Lara. Are you okay?”

“Yes.” My voice wavers slightly, and I force it steady. “He showed up this morning and he looked rough—like he hasn’t slept in days. He was angry. Defensive. Still trying to rewrite what happened between us.”

“Oh no,” Leanne practically moans, and I have never forgotten that this is her son first and foremost.

I don’t bother giving her details on the nasty things he said, leaving it alone because they don’t need to hear it.

“He’s not himself, Leanne. He hasn’t been for a while. And I know you’ve tried to stay neutral in all this, but I needed you to hear it from me. I reiterated to him that it’s over. There’s nothing left to salvage between us, and I need to move on.”

“Oh, Lara.” Her voice cracking slightly. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted you to think like you had to carry this alone.”

“You haven’t made me feel that way,” I assure her. “I know how hard this has been—for both of you. I hope he’ll be okay and I just… I wanted you to know that I’m okay, too.”

There’s a short pause, then Leanne says, “You have Reid now, so I know you’ll be okay.”

It feels like someone had just zapped me with electricity. My cheeks get hot and why does it feel like I just got caught with my hand in the cookie jar. “Um… what do you mean?”

Leanne’s voice is soft, slightly chiding but I can hear the love in it. “Lara… I’m a mum and I know things.”

Oh, wow. She knows about me and Reid, but why am I shocked. My mum figured it out. “Leanne… we were going to tell you. We wanted to get through this and face-to-face would have been better but—”

I’m interrupted by a clucking sound. “Now, hush. We’re not worried about that. Graham and I only ever want our children to be happy, and that includes you.”

Then Graham pipes up and I’m surprised by his conviction. “I think you and Reid were always meant to be together.” He chuckles to himself. “Dads know things, too.”

“We’ll talk to Lance,” Leanne says quietly. “Graham and I… we’ve been worried and we need him to know that we’re here for him.”

“I think Lance will actually really appreciate it,” I say, relief flooding my chest that the last of this mess has been handled.

“We’ll take care of it,” Graham says. “And Lara… thank you for the way you’ve handled this. I can’t imagine how hard that conversation must’ve been.”

“It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” I whisper. “But it was the right thing.”

“We love you,” Leanne says, and I can hear the tears in her voice. “No matter what happens with Lance… we love you.”

I close my eyes, throat thick. “I love you too.”

We say our goodbyes and I set the phone down, letting the quiet wrap around me again. For the first time in weeks, it doesn’t feel oppressive. It feels earned.

Because now… I can finally breathe.