Twist.
It would be a miracle if he had any heart left.
“You heard that?” he said, staring at the ground as the “Chicken Dance” song drifted from the barn.
“Why are you doing this, Raz?”
Her words tore at his soul.
“You were there, plum. You saw me swing and miss.”
“That wasn’t you, Raz. That wasn’t the controlled, targeted energy I feel when we train together. You let your emotions get the better of you. I sensed it. Your aura went red. It was like you ignored your chi and—”
“It’s not my chi or my energy or a bloody aura,” he interrupted, ready to break. “I have five days. Five bloody days!” He held her hands. “It’ll be like I promised you in Moloka’i. I love you. I want to be with you.”
“But after you win,” she supplied.
“You know why I have to do this.”
“Actually, I don’t know that, Raz. And while I’m furious with you, I’m more upset with myself.”
“For what?”
She looked him dead in the eyes. “For believing you. What happens if you lose?”
Twist.
“What do you mean?” he asked, flicking his gaze away.
“What happens if you lose, Erasmus?” she asked, holding her ground. “Will you pack up and go back to London?”
His thoughts spiraled. Meredith, Silas, Libby, Sebastian. Their faces came at him as the walls of doubt caved in.
“I don’t know. I can’t let myself go there.”
“What about your fight is my fight?” she bit out.
It killed him to hear her say those words.
“This isn’t your fight, plum. It’s mine.”
She shook her head. “What happens to us if you lose? I’m not an idiot, Raz. I get that you don’t want me to come with you to train. So, what happens if it all goes south? Will you blame me and Pun-chi yoga?”
“Libby, plum, this fight is everything. Once I win, it’ll be us—you, me, and Sebastian. We’ll be happy,” he said, taking a step closer when his foot bumped something.
Not something.
One of Sebastian’s rock stacks. The stack that signaled the right path now sat scattered on the ground.
She pulled her hands from his grasp and stared at the stones. “You sound like my father.”
“I’m not your father.”
“Are you sure?”
“Plum, I promise—”
“Please,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Don’t say it. Don’t promise me anything—not if we both know you don’t mean it.”
He had to make her see that he’d come through for her.
“How about this? I love you, Libby Lamb.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “My dad would say that, too. ‘I love you, sweetie. Things will be different after I win. Happiness is just around the corner for us.’”
“I don’t have a choice,” he confessed.
She pegged him with those amber eyes that saw everything. “You do, and you’ve already made it.”
Thirty-One
Libby
A gentle breeze blew through the park as Libby blinked back tears. She gazed at her cell phone’s screen, then pressed play for the tenth, no, it had to be at least the eleventh time.
“Hi, Mibby! Hi, Dad! Hi, Augie! It’s me, Sebastian. I know you’re busy training, but I had to send you this,” the boy announced as the video message played on her phone. She hit pause and drank him in, missing him like she’d misplaced a piece of her soul. Sebastian had his mother’s aquamarine eyes, but in every other aspect, from his strong jaw to the air of confidence in his stance, he was Raz.
She hit play.
“Aunt Calliope is recording this. We’re at an amusement park in Denver, and there’s a swing carousel that goes super-fast—almost as fast as Plum and Beefcake, I reckon. You fly through the air like a bird or one of those maniac butterflies we have in Rickety Rock. I was scared to ride it at first, but now, I’m a right pro.”
Libby swiped a tear from her cheek. Sebastian wasn’t lacking in beefcake confidence either.
“Granny Fin’s friend, that nice lady with the red scarf, was impressed. She came out of nowhere, walked right by me, and said, my goodness, you’re brave.” Sebastian puffed up. But Libby deflated. Of course, Madelyn Malone would sail into the picture. She must have been assessing the state of her nanny match, which at this point, must look utterly dismal.
They say that time heals all wounds. But how many times could a heart break? How many cracks and fractures could it endure? When did the healing center of the body break down into a heap of jagged shards?
She inhaled, then exhaled a shaky breath. She wasn’t in complete collapse yet, but sweet Buddha’s belly, after the last four days, she was damn close.
“Here’s the trick,” the boy continued, holding up his sketchbook. “Look right here.” He tapped the illustration. “That’s the bloke who helps you sit on the swing part and makes sure you’re buckled in. He says you’ve got to keep your balance, hold on tight, and don’t tip over.” Sebastian handed the pad to one of his aunts. “Now, watch while I do it. Keep recording, Auntie Calliope.”
He ran to the ride, his long legs pumping as he snagged the last chair. He settled himself, then held on to the chains connected to an ornately carved rainbow-covered dome. The ride lit up, shading the boy in a kaleidoscope of colors as a jaunty carnival tune blared. The swings revolved, going round and round and faster and faster, opening outward. Sebastian, the little daredevil, leaned over and waved each time he passed.
She smiled, unable to help herself. But it was premature. What would happen in a few seconds would add another piece of her heart to the pile of shards.
The music stopped, and the ride slowed, winding down, the swings drawing in like an umbrella closing as smiling passengers returned to the ground. Sebastian hopped off and barreled toward the camera, laughing as he wobbled, gradually regaining his bearings.
“It’s a banger of a ride!” he exclaimed, then his features softened. “But I miss you all. I wish I could be with you, and I can’t wait to see you on the day of the fight. Go, Lion! Go, Lamb! Bye, Augie, and namaste,” Sebastian chimed, tucking his pad under his arm to bow in prayer position.
And then it was over. She stared at the screen, at her favorite seven-year-old caught mid-bow.
“Oh, Libbs, are you watching that again?”
Libby glanced over her shoulder and found Harper coming toward her. She’d texted the girls, letting them know she’d be at the park, and within seconds, they’d said they’d be on their way over. She’d forwarded the video to H after Calliope had sent it a couple of days ago. She needed someone to see it, someone to share in the moment.
It tore her up inside to think that Raz wasn’t that person.
Had he even watched the video? He’d been cc’d on the email, but she had no idea if he’d seen it.
She hadn’t heard anything from the man since they’d parted.
She sighed, mustering a grin for her friend. “I’m killing time before I have to head over to the rec center. That’s why I suggested we meet here. My old landlord—”