Page 19 of The Big Race
“We leave in six weeks,” Ray said, trying for breezy. “Ready to cheer us on from the couch?”
Leo didn’t smile. “You really think this is going to fix everything?”
Ray’s posture stiffened. “We’ve been over this?—”
“No, we haven’t,” Leo interrupted. “You told me the race might help. But what if it doesn’t? What if you two have a blowout on camera? What if the whole world watches you implode?”
I looked at him, startled by the edge in his voice.
“What if you come backworse?” Leo asked, voice cracking slightly. “What if you ruin what little you still have?”
Ray tried to step toward him, but Leo backed up. “I love you both, okay? But this is not a reality show to me. It’s my family. And I don’t want to wake up to memes about Pop crying in Kathmandu or Dad sleeping on a bench in Bratislava because they couldn’t agree on a clue.”
I tried to inject calm. “Leo—this is our decision. You don’t have to carry it for us.”
“Too late,” he snapped. “You made me part of this with that video. And now I’m scared you’re chasing a Band-Aid when you need surgery.”
Ray looked gutted. “You really think we shouldn’t go?”
Leo was quiet. “I think... I think if you go, you need to be ready for it to break you. And if it does, you can’t pretend it wasjust a race.”
Silence fell over the kitchen.
Finally, I said, “We know the risks.”
Leo shook his head. “No, you know the rules. That’s not the same.”
He grabbed his bag. “Just... promise me that if this gets ugly, you’ll stop pretending it’s therapy with a camera crew.”
He left before either of us could answer.
Chapter 9
Toward the Truth
“Leo has a point,” I said, as the pizza box sat untouched on the table before us. “I think we need to talk about what happens if this doesn’t work.”
Ray stilled. “You mean... if we crash and burn in front of a million viewers?”
“I mean if the race makes it clear we’re not a team anymore. That we can’t fix this.”
He exhaled slowly. “Okay. What are you thinking?”
“We’d have to sell the house,” I said. “It’s too big for one of us alone. We’d figure out a way to divide everything fairly.”
Ray looked down at the counter. “I guess I could go back to Colorado. I always said I wanted to go back to the mountains. I could get a sales job there.”
“You can sell anything,” I agreed. “I’d stay here in Florida. Keep working remote. Maybe get a condo somewhere by the water.”
The silence that followed was heavy—not angry, just… mournful.
“I don’twantthat,” Ray said, his voice low. “But I get that we have to talk about it.”
“I want us to be clear,” I said. “We’re not going into this race hoping for a miracle. We’re going in to see what’s left.”
He nodded, then reached for my hand. “Then let’s run toward the truth—whatever it is.”
He released my hand, “Six weeks to get you race-ready.”
