Page 40 of Still The One

Crazy wipeout! Dude’s a legend! #FearlessFoster #Famous15

There’s the nickname he earned long before we ever met. And a new one that perfectly encapsulates his spirit and determination that I’ve no doubt he’ll adore – ‘Fearless Foster’. Yep, that’s him.

Without thinking it through, I find myself clicking on his profile, scrolling through the images and videos that document his daring feats and adventurous life. It’s like getting a glimpse into a world I hardly knew. One where Foster shines brighter than ever – the exact same Foster I fell in love with.

My hand instinctively presses against my chest, feeling the rapid thumping of my heart. My fingers tremble slightly as I scroll, the tips tingling with a mix of anxiety and… something I’m unfamiliar with. Confusion? Hesitation? Regret? Old photos and videos flood my vision, transporting me back in time to moments that we shared together. My eyes well up as I repeatedly see the familiar smile on his face, the same one that used to light up my world.

Each scroll of my screen is like trying to hold onto a swarm of butterflies, each carrying a different memory, all overwhelming and bittersweet. A sudden rush of emotions, a longing for the past, and a deep ache for what could have been, nearly suffocate me. I lay my phone screen down onto my chest, close my eyes, and inhale deeply through my nose and slowly out of my mouth.

This is why you made yourself never look back, Eve. Just relax. Breathe through the incoming panic attack. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

I do the breathing taught to me by my therapist a couple of times – just for good measure. Why does the logical part of me want to push him away? That’s right, because getting over him hurt. I was a mess for months. Yet now that I’m over him, the part that still remembers the way his touch felt wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, this apology is sincere – just really, really late. Does that fix the part of me that he broke? Do I wantto find that out? Shouldn’t I have thought of this before I offered to nurse him back to health?

In through your nose, out through your mouth.

Five Years Ago

‘You nervous, Jellybean?’ Foster asks, patting my ass as I pace the tent.

‘How are younot, Candy Corn? You’re about to go out there and do something incredibly stupid, all for cheers from the crowd.’

‘Cheers, money, fame, women…’ Jeff mumbles in the background.

‘Listen to those roars,’ Foster exclaims, ignoring Jeff like it’s his job, with amusement in his voice. ‘It’s like a surge of adrenaline rushing through my veins. It’s fucking awesome.’

‘I think that’s probably the five energy drinks you’ve downed since we got here. Your heart is going to explode.’

I have never been this worried about someone in my life. The first time I saw him do this, I had no emotional attachment, and I pictured a crash more like the ‘hockey fights’ of FMX. Now, my boyfriend, a man I have fallen head over heels for, is going to tempt fate right in front of me.

‘Have you ever wrecked?’ I ask, the words slipping out fast enough that he lifts an eyebrow.

‘Yes,’ he says, his voice lowered as he gathers my hands into his. ‘Everyrider’s had their share of falls. You walk it off and get back on yer horse,’ he utters in a deep velvet purr, drawing me in further with its hypnotic rhythm and seductive tone. Hissouthern accent slips in and once again my heart melts at every word.

‘Was it bad?’

‘I didn’t die.’

This snaps me out of the lovesick spell. My eyes widen as if experiencing terror on his behalf.

‘Yet,’ I say.

‘Are you worried about me, Evie?’

‘Yes.’

He lifts both my hands, kissing my knuckles. ‘Not gonna lie, it’s cute, but don’t stress. I’ve been training my whole life. No matter what happens, I’m ready.’

I start to swoon at the hand-kissing but then my mind wanders to ‘no matter what happens’.

‘You’re ready for death?’

His smile is crooked but sincere. ‘I’ll be fine,’ he assures me. ‘Cross my heart and hopenotto die.’ He makes the motion, then kisses my forehead, throwing an arm over my shoulders and pulling me close. ‘The only thing you’ll witness today is me winning first place.’

Finally, he cracks me and I begrudgingly chuckle at his arrogance – he’s not really. Well, maybe on the track, but all these guys are like that – it’s sort of like WWE in that way, where the riders sort of spur one another on when they’re on the track in front of a crowd but behind the scenes, they all seem to have one another’s back.

Foster and I stand together, overlooking the racetrack. His arm is around me as if trying to convey a sense of safety and comfort or maybe just claiming me as his own, which I’m cool with. My silence must be making him nervous because after minutes of silence, he speaks again.

‘You’ve got nothing to worry about. This isn’t a sport that you can just pick up a bike and excel at. It takes years of dedicationand practice, not to mention a certain degree of natural talent. Take a look at Tommy over there, he’s up next. He’s exceptionally skilled and one of the younger riders. Of course, he’s not where I was at that age.’

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