“No more advice on that,” I say firmly. “I’m doing all the right things for me. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.”
And I am. Whenever I’ve talked to Caleb this week, I’ve been reassured over and over that I’m making the right decision in seeing where this thing goes with him. He’s already flown from Barcelona to London, so we can see each other this week before racing resumes next week in Montreal. I just assumed he would be in Monaco while I was settling into my apartment in London—but he said he had testing to do in Surrey at the Collings Motors headquarters and Silverstone. Instead of going back home to Monaco afterward, he’ll stay in the UK.
For me.
Mom nods, but the concern is still in her eyes. I move to Dad, who wraps me up in his famous bear hug. “Isla, I’m so proud of you,” he says, his voice a little gruff. “You are the bravest person I know. It takes guts to move across the world for a new job. And more guts to make some of the other decisions you’ve made.”
I swallow. It’s the Caleb factor that he’s referring to. Which apparently is the thread running through my life, be it work or with my family or fans.
“You raised me to be brave,” I tell him.
He swallows hard as he gazes down at me. “Love you. Listen to your mom’s words of wisdom, okay?”
“They’re noted. But I promise you, they aren’t needed.”
And they aren’t. Caleb placed fourth in Barcelona—the car didn’t have pace in qualifying, and he made some mistakes on the track that resulted in him not getting a podium finish—but the first thing he did after the race was text me to see how I was feeling about my upcoming move to London. If I was ready. How my emotions were. Encouraging me that I’m going to build a career in F1 and this move is the right thing to do in case I had any doubts. Caleb reassured me that whatever he can do to help me feel at home in London, he’ll do it.
That’s the kind of person I’m seeing. Someone who puts me first. Believes in me and encourages me.
Caleb is a good man.
Even if my dad doesn’t look too convinced that I’ve made the right choice by risking everything to be with him.
“I’ll walk you to the security line,” Hadleigh offers, breaking the silence that has fallen between me and my parents.
“Thank you.” I wouldn’t mind some time to talk to her alone before I have to go into the passengers-only area.
But as soon as I look back at my parents, knowing it’s going to be the longest I’ve ever been apart from them—and divided by an ocean, too—I blink back tears. I say goodbye, my throat tight, and give them a little wave as I pull my carry-on bag behind me. Hadleigh falls in step next to me, and we begin walking down to the security checkpoint.
“I’ll look after Mitch and Autumn for you,” she offers.
I smile. Hadleigh loves my parents. Her own parents fought the entire time she grew up and used her as a weapon against each other. Even when I was away at college, she would drop by all the time for coffee on a weekend morning or to eat dinner with my parents. She’s like another daughter to them, and the sister I never had.
Yet despite her upbringing, she remains optimistic when it comes to love. She’s like Caleb in that way. He’s risking a lot by trusting me, based on his experiences growing up, and that doesn’t go unnoticed by me.
“Thank you,” I say. “I love that you’re always in Miami and a constant in their lives. And please reassure them I’m doing the right thing with Maxwell.”
She’s silent. I look over at her, her blondish-brown hair swept back into a ponytail, her skin looking radiant with just a dab of tinted moisturizer. But she’s staring straight ahead, biting her lower lip, as if something is troubling her.
Does she have doubts about Caleb, too?
I stop walking and put my hand on her arm to bring her to a stop. “What’s wrong?”
Hadleigh swallows. “I don’t want to tell you. I’m ashamed of myself for even having these thoughts.”
“Hadleigh, what are you talking about?” I ask, concerned. I immediately move over to a wall, and she follows me. She leans against it, and I watch as she folds her arms across her chest. She taps a foot against the tiled floor, her flip-flop bouncing up and down against it.
“Talk to me,” I say, anxiety growing within me. Is Hadleigh having second thoughts about my relationship with Caleb? Is that what she’s afraid to tell me?
My stomach sinks at the thought of losing her support.
“I’m a complete asshole for springing this on you as you’re about to board a flight. No. I won’t do it. Forget it.”
“I will NOT forget it,” I say firmly. “Now what is going on with you? I have time—plenty of time—and if you need me, I’ll rebook this flight for tomorrow or the next day or the day after that.”
To my surprise, tears fill her brown eyes. My alarm heightens.
“You’re making it worse,” she says, her voice wobbly.