I didn't even have the right to use it anymore.
Margot tugged carefully at Rufus's sleeve.
"Rufus, maybe we should just let it go."
"Christine's a veteran on this team, after all. If she's upset because of me, I'd never forgive myself."
Then she lowered her voice and coaxed me too.
"Christine, don't hold a grudge against Rufus. A rally's brutal, you know. You're thirty now. He's just worried your body can't take it."
Hearing that, I laughed, the kind of laugh that comes when anger has nowhere left to go.
But Rufus had already turned and walked over to Margot. "Let me adjust your gear."
He crouched down, lifted her foot onto his knee, and fixed her shoe with his own hands.
Margot flushed deep red, her eyes drifting toward me with that same picture of innocence.
"Rufus, won't this look bad…"
Rufus let out a low laugh.
"What's bad about it?"
"You're the most important person on this team. Today, no one matters more than you."
The words landed like a slap across my face.
Everyone crowded around her, laughing warmly, walking her through the race briefing about to begin, the wind, the terrain, the rival drivers' profiles.
I stood where I was. Not one person acknowledged me. No one even set out a comms headset for me.
All that was left for me was a backup bike that had been retired last year.
Everyone had silently agreed to leave me out in the cold, waiting for me to cave.
Without a team backing me, there was no way I'd finish this rally.
I clenched my jaw, my nails nearly digging into my palms.
That was when a message came through on my phone.
It was from the manager of the team next door, a road-condition report so thorough it left nothing out.
"I heard everything you two said."
"Christine, my team will always welcome you."
"Still sulking?"
Rufus had come over at some point.
I switched off my phone and looked up at him.
He acted as if nothing had happened at all.
He held the track-analysis tablet out in front of me, his voice perfectly calm.
"The wind shifted today. Past the third supply point, the crosswind's going to get worse. I had someone mark out the road conditions and the corner data. Take a look for yourself."
I didn't reach for it.
Rufus frowned slightly, then crouched down without a care in the world and started a final check on that old bike.
Then, as if something had just occurred to him, he said, "Didn't you keep asking me to come home with you to meet your parents? The team always had something come up at the last minute, so it never worked out. After this race is over, I'll go back with you."
Something caught in my chest.
I didn't know when it had started, that Rufus, the one whose every thought used to be only of me, had become this.
Every time he needed to push me aside, he'd leave me hanging first, waiting for me to bow my head on my own.
And if I didn't, he'd toss me some small kindness, then breeze past the whole thing as if it were nothing.
I lowered my eyes and said only one thing.
"We'll see."
Rufus's hands paused. He hadn't expected that from me.
But all at once I remembered.
Every single time I'd said I wanted to bring him home to meet my parents, they'd start getting ready days in advance.
My mom would head to the market before dawn to buy groceries. My dad would scrub the yard spotless, inside and out.
A whole table of son-in-law's-favorite dishes, kept warm from noon clear into the night, and what they always got in the end was word that something had come up for Rufus.
They were crushed, every time, yet they'd force a smile and comfort me instead.
"It's fine. Career comes first for young people. Next time will be just as good."
