Page 99 of Redeeming Melodies

Fuck. Because she wasn't entirely wrong. We'd both played our parts - the champion driver, the devoted wife. Both lost ourselves somewhere between Victory Lane and reality.

"I'm not giving up Tommy." Had to make that clear. "Not for your image, not for anything."

"And your new image?" Her smile turned bitter. "The gay awakening in small-town America? That's more real?"

"Yeah." The certainty in my voice surprised us both. "Yeah, it is. Because for the first time, I'm not performing. I'm just living. Being a dad. Being with someone who sees me, not my trophy value."

She stared at me for a long moment, wine forgotten. "You really love him, don't you? This sheriff of yours?"

"I do." The admission came easy now. "And Tommy? He's happy there, Van. Really happy. No pressure, no perfect image to maintain. Just a kid being a kid."

Something shifted in her eyes - grief maybe, or recognition. "I do love him, you know. In my way."

"I know." Because I did know. She loved Tommy like she loved everything - perfectly, possessively, with strings attached. "But love isn't enough if it comes with conditions."

Stood to leave, the fight draining out of me. We'd both lost here, both failed in different ways. But maybe that's what had to happen for something real to grow from the ashes.

Murphy's hitme with that familiar mix of stale beer and loyalty the moment I walked in. Found my crew exactly where I knew they'd be - back corner, same table we'd claimed after every race, win or lose.

Delaney spotted me first, his grin splitting that weathered face. "Look what the fucking wind blew in!"

The bear hug knocked the breath out of me, but fuck if it didn't feel like coming home. Different home than Jake's quiet strength, but home all the same.

"Boss man!" Tom shouted over the noise. "Tell me you're back to save us from Martinez's ego. Fucker's been unbearable since you left."

Found myself surrounded by grease-stained hands and genuine smiles. These guys had seen me through a hundred races, patched up more than just cars when things went sideways.

"First round's on me." Called to the bartender, knowing she'd remember our usual. Some things never changed, even when everything else did.

"So." Delaney settled beside me, that knowing look in his eyes. "Small town life treating you good?"

"Better than I deserve." The truth came easy here. These men had seen me at my worst, my best, everything between.

The beers arrived, familiar rhythm of team celebration taking over. Stories flew fast and loose - who'd crashed what, who'd made rookie mistakes, all the gossip I'd missed while building my quiet life.

"Martinez tried your inside move at Bristol." Tom laughed, beer sloshing. "Ended up eating wall instead."

"Serves him right." But the racing talk felt distant now, like watching a movie of someone else's life.

Delaney caught it first. Always did. "Something's eating at you, kid. Spill."

Fuck. Here we go. Though Delaney already knew bits of it, I still wanted to come clean.

"Need to tell you something." My voice came out steadier than expected.

The table went quiet, that focused silence they used to give me before big races. Waiting. Listening.

"Met someone." The words stuck briefly. Pushed through. "In Oakwood Grove. Someone who makes everything make sense."

"About fucking time." Mike's approval made my chest tight. "After Vanessa, thought maybe you'd sworn off relationships entirely."

"Not exactly." Deep breath. No going back now. "His name's Jake. He's the town sheriff."

The silence stretched. Not hostile, just processing. Beer bottles frozen halfway to mouths, eyes widening as it sank in.

Tom broke first, spitting beer across the table. "Hold up. You're telling me that you moved to a small town just to shack up with a small-town cop? A male cop?"

"Got a problem with that?" Steel entered my voice, ready to defend what Jake and I had built.

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