Page 34 of Retrograde

Brett watched the way Lucie’s face flushed when her Mum handed her the tomato salad across the table.

He felt a sense of pride within him, knowing that the reason her cheeks were red was because of him.

She was remembering every moment vividly, just as he was.

The way she’d sighed and collapsed under his touch.

The way he’d held her tight to him so she wouldn’t fall, and because he knew it was as close as she would ever let him get.

He wasn’t stupid, he knew she would never let things go as far as they had in the Alps.

But there was something about them being in Italy that had him reminiscing in ways he tended to avoid.

Usually, he could turn it off. Think about something else.

Right now, though? He was remembering her in a compromising position that he knew was implanted on his brain for the rest of time.

He couldn’t deny that he loved pushing her boundaries.

In those moments that she let him get close, he believed that she craved him just as much as he craved her.

But as much as he wanted to raise the friends-with-benefits topic again, he respected her enough not to push her too far.

If anything further happened between them, it would be on Lucie’s terms and Lucie’s terms only.

The reputation he had created for himself did more harm than good these days. Maybe if he hadn’t been so wild, such a party animal and a flirt, he’d have a shot with a woman like Lucie. Well, not a woman like Lucie. Just Lucie herself.

The only person he would ever even consider getting down on one knee for, if the stars and planets ever aligned and put them on the same path, was Lucie.

The same Lucie who couldn’t even look him in the eye right now.

They’d only stopped kissing when they’d heard Mateo starting up the tractor, and Lucie had slipped from his grasp, her dress bunching up in the process.

If Mateo hadn’t been right around the corner, Brett might have taken her into the greenhouse right then and there.

He didn’t know how she had so much willpower around him.

He had made so many moves, ninety per cent of them rejected.

But that ten per cent? He clung to that ten per cent.

He could feel it in the way she looked at him.

Her eyes full of desire, her cheeks rosy.

She wanted to cross that line again. It was written all over her face.

It was those almost moments shared between them that he lay in bed and fantasised about every night.

That he woke up thinking of. He spent countless mornings staring out the window of wherever he was, remembering the way his best friend felt beneath him.

Lucie was always the first and last thing on his mind each day.

Brett didn’t think she would ever understand the hold she had on him.

Nor did he think he would ever be able to express it.

Brett held on to his emotions. He released them on the track for the most part, but he also, in recent years, sought other vices.

Alcohol was the winner. He would never say this to her, but sleeping with Lucie on that hiking trip may have been his downfall, not Sienna’s betrayal.

The whole fiancé-cheating-on-him thing was old news.

He’d got over that with a string of women, until that night with Lucie.

Since then, there had been nobody except her.

Well, apart from his attempt to forget Lucie with Sienna.

Lucie thought there had been other women, and he’d let her believe it.

If she thought he was waiting for her, and she didn’t want the same thing, he’d be embarrassed.

Vulnerable. He hated being vulnerable. Usually, Lucie brought it out in him, but when she was the cause, how was he supposed to let her know without damaging their friendship?

So, he let her catch him in what she thought was ‘the act’, let her think he’d taken women back to his hotel room. But instead, he ended things after a kiss and sent them on their way. Nobody would ever compare to his sunshine girl.

‘Luce, your mum and I were talking about a family camping trip next summer,’ Mateo chirped, serving himself a hearty slice of lasagne and sprinkling it with extra parmesan.

‘When you say family…’ Lucie’s face paled.

‘He means everyone,’ Rosa added, already looking tired at the mere thought.

‘We could fly back over to the US, and we could go somewhere like Utah, or Virginia.’

‘Dad, that’s a lot of people. We might as well hire a whole campsite.’

‘Hey, maybe that’s not such a bad idea!’ His eyes lit up.

‘Slow down. There’s what, nine adults including partners? That’s already pushing it. But there’s also six kids between them. Bianca and I are the only ones who are kid-free. Can’t you just take us? We know we’re your favourites, anyway.’

‘I do not have favourites!’ Mateo scolded. ‘Besides, it would be nice to have everyone in one place for once. Perhaps the Andersons would like to come, too.’

‘Mateo, darling, you’re going to give yourself a heart attack if you attempt this.’

‘But we had so much fun when the kids were growing up,’ he frowned. ‘Remember when Lucie fell in the river and Bianca had to jump in and save her?’ Mateo roared with laughter.

‘Dad, that wasn’t funny! I could’ve drowned!’

‘Oh, we wouldn’t have let that happen. I was holding a stick out to you, remember?’ He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

‘I only fell in because Elena pushed me. You never punished her.’

‘You guys were just having fun! It’s what siblings do.’

‘When she left Isabella alone in the shower block, you were ready to murder her.’

‘She was only three and I didn’t know where she was. That was different. I had eyes on you the whole time you were in the water, I knew you were fine.’

‘I literally hit my head on a rock before Bianca got to me. And I’m pretty sure a fish nibbled my foot.’ Lucie scowled at him, looking ready to launch her bread at her dad.

‘At least it wasn’t a crocodile,’ Mateo chuckled.

Brett laughed along with him, but he couldn’t ignore the stabbing pain in his chest that resurfaced whenever he spent time with the Carolans.

He adored Lucie’s dad, and Mateo had been one of his biggest supporters for the last ten years.

He treated him like his own, and Brett appreciated him.

But it just reminded him of the cold hard truth. His dad was gone.

Jack used to take him and Piper camping in Darwin.

He would claim he was just giving the twins time to bond, surrounded by nature with no gaming devices or a young, screaming Cleo, but Brett always knew it was really because he liked the peace and quiet.

Although Piper had always been the fieriest of the family, when it was just them and their dad in a tiny little tent next to the lake, she was calm. She thrived.

Those trips were where Brett and Piper had built a strong relationship, and eventually, they’d managed to make it hold up the rest of the year when they were back home in Sydney, and years since the camping trips stopped, it was stronger than ever as adults.

When Jack had died, they’d leaned on each other.

They had held on to those memories of summer with every fibre of their being, and although Piper had processed her grief and moved on, Brett hadn’t. He hadn’t been camping since.

One part of him wanted to help Mateo fulfil his fantasy, but the other part of him couldn’t imagine pitching a tent, barbequing and playing badminton or football with anyone who wasn’t his dad.

It felt like he was disrespecting his memory.

He knew that was stupid, but it scared him.

It would be too much like replacing him, and oftentimes he already felt that he had.

It was like when Mateo had come to support the team at a race a few years ago.

Mateo had been so excited to be there with his hospitality pass and his official team uniform.

Cap and sunglasses on, of course, so he wasn’t recognised as Mateo Clemente.

He’d been proud, and he’d expressed that.

To Lucie and to Brett. But when Brett had seen him standing in the garage, waving his Revolution Racing flag, that same fear struck.

It should be his dad standing there. Jack Anderson had taken Brett karting for thirteen years.

Every weekend. It was because of his dad’s support and encouragement, his determination for his only son, that Brett had successfully got into his first racing championship at the age of sixteen, before he’d made it to the big leagues.

They had spent those two years attending every race as father and son, travelling together and soaking up every moment.

But the IEC was their end goal. Winning Le Mans was a dream, to be compared to the likes of Tom Kristensen and Jacky Ickx, and while Jack had been there for the first phone call from Brett’s original team, the contract-signing and the first race, he hadn’t been there for the first championship win.

Brett had wanted to get out of the car and see him, and it crushed him to see Mateo instead. And then Mateo had clapped him on the back in congratulations, and Brett felt sick to his stomach for feeling that way.

‘Brett, would you like tiramisu for dessert? We have plenty left.’ Rosa began clearing plates, shoving him back down in his chair when he tried to help.

He had tuned out the rest of dinner, oblivious to the conversation. He liked that nobody had bothered him, forced him to interact. Lucie’s parents were just like her in that sense. They respected when people needed space, and they had an acute understanding of his emotions.

‘Just a small serving, please.’ He smiled at Lucie’s mum, her dark hair up in a bun, apron stained with flour and tomato.

He tried to think about his kiss with Lucie again, but the only thing that ever stopped him from spiralling about her was spiralling about his dad instead. It was a double-edged sword.

‘You okay?’ Lucie mouthed across the table. Instead of responding verbally, Brett nodded and gave her a half-smile, silently thanking her for her concern.

He wished he was sitting next to her so he could hold her hand in a death grip. He did that a lot when he was lost in his thoughts or anxious; she was an anchor to keep him in reality. But lately, reality hadn’t been that much better. It had just gone downhill until he’d hit rock bottom.

Lucie awoke that night to the muffled sound of shouting. She lay amongst her terracotta cotton sheets, trying to get a sense of her surroundings. As she forced her eyes open, greeted by darkness, she realised where it was coming from. Brett.

Launching herself out of bed, not bothering to slip into a robe, she made a beeline for his room across the hall.

The door opened to Brett, sitting bolt upright, eyes wide as he yelled out for help.

Thank God her parents were way on the other side of the farmhouse.

Even in the moonlight, she could see the fear across his face, the way his hair stuck up at odd angles as if he had been tossing and turning.

Lucie didn’t know if the rule of not waking someone up only applied to sleepwalking. Did it apply to night terrors? She could wake him, and he could be confused and disorientated, and he could hurt her. But seeing him like this was breaking her heart. She felt like screaming with him.

‘Anderson!’ Lucie yelled. She shook him, snapping him out of it.

It was as if she had flipped a switch and reality was coming into focus again, his eyes finding hers in the dim lighting.

Lucie studied his expression, silently pleading with him to stay with her.

Letting him know he was safe. He looked as broken as he had on the day he’d got the phone call about his dad.

Was that where he’d been? Transported back to that moment?

He had suffered night terrors and panic attacks for years when Jack had first passed.

‘Fuck,’ he breathed out. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise. Are you okay?’

‘I think so.’ His breathing was still heavy.

Lucie got him a cold flannel from his en-suite and perched on the edge of the bed handing it to him. ‘You want to talk about it?’

‘Do I have much choice?’

‘Well, I’m not leaving this room either way.’

‘Okay.’ He swallowed harshly, preparing himself.

‘I’ve been having dreams about my dad’s death again.

Like the ones I had at the very beginning.

Of the exact moment he took his life. I see it.

Every detail. And I know it’s not real, I know it’s my imagination because I wasn’t there, I didn’t witness it, but I found him.

I saw the aftermath, and it was gruesome. And every time I wake up… fuck, I–’

When he took a while to speak again, chest still heaving as he struggled to find the words, Lucie gently coaxed it out of him. ‘I promise whatever you say, I won’t judge.’

Brett kept his gaze fixed on his bedsheets, but he squeezed her hand in response.

‘I hate him. I hate him for leaving us, and I know that’s shitty. He wasn’t well, he needed help he wasn’t getting. But I needed him . We all did.’

‘It’s not shitty. He took something from you, Brett. You’re allowed to feel angry, and hurt. You’re also allowed to miss him and remember what an incredible dad he was to you.’

‘Not only do I feel like I’m becoming him the more I spiral, but I also feel like I’m replacing him.’

Lucie knew what he was getting at without him needing to expand.

She had seen the way he’d acted at dinner, the way he’d shut down.

She had seen him watching her interactions with Mateo.

She’d heard the panic in his voice when he’d turned down the invitation to a game of Monopoly. She wasn’t stupid.

‘You’re not. At all. Nobody will ever replace your dad, and nobody wants to.

Mateo loves you like a son, but he would never dream of trying to replace him.

He just wants to support you, be your friend and make sure you have someone you can rely on.

He’s raised four children of his own, it’s in his blood. ’

‘I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that. Mateo probably would’ve treated me the same even if my dad was still around. It’s just who he is.’

‘Exactly. And as for your dad? I bet he’d be over the moon to know you have someone like that in your life, supporting you in the ways he can’t. Family comes in different forms; we both know that better than most.’

Even though he looked slightly relieved and less at war with himself, nothing she said could make this any better for him.

She couldn’t take the pain away. All she could do, all she knew how to do, was just be there.

So, she crawled into bed next to him and held him all night, wishing she had the ability to heal his broken heart.