4: I PROMISE

Jayda folded a shirt mechanically, tucking it into the suitcase while Margaret sobbed quietly in the doorway. The house felt too big around them, too empty despite all the expensive furniture, all the artwork on the walls, all the things that were supposed to signal success but only reminded her how hollow everything had become.

"Madam, you cannot leave like this," Margaret tried again, her voice breaking. "At least wait a few days, let yourself rest before making such a big decision."

"I've already made the decision." Jayda pulled her racing helmet from the top shelf of the closet, the sleek black surface reflecting her distorted image back at her. "I should have made it a long time ago."

She packed quickly after that, taking only what she could carry in one suitcase plus the helmet she tucked carefully under her arm. Everything else—the designer clothes Antonio had bought her, the jewelry he'd given her for anniversaries, the life they had built together—could stay here and rot for all she cared.

The wedding ring felt heavy on her finger as she walked through the bedroom one last time, her eyes catching on the framed photo on the nightstand that showed them on their wedding day, both of them smiling like they believed in forever. She pulled the ring off slowly, the metal sliding over her knuckle with an ease that felt symbolic, set it down on the nightstand next to that photo of two people who didn't exist anymore.

The house felt like a mausoleum as she made her way downstairs, every room too quiet, too full of memories she couldn't afford to carry with her into whatever came next. Margaret followed her to the front door still crying, still begging her to reconsider, to think about her health, to please not do this.

Jayda set down her suitcase and pulled the older woman into a tight hug, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender, feeling Margaret's shoulders shake with sobs. "I'll be okay," she whispered even though they both knew it was a lie. "I promise I'll take care of myself."

"You call me if you need anything," Margaret said fiercely, pulling back to grip Jayda's shoulders. "Anything at all, any time of day, you promise me."

"I promise."

She picked up her suitcase and helmet, walked out the front door without looking back because if she looked back she might lose her nerve, might convince herself to stay in this beautiful prison just a little longer. The morning air was crisp against her face as she made her way down the long driveway, past the perfectly manicured gardens, past the fountain that had cost more than most people made in a year.

The cab she'd called was waiting at the gate and the driver helped her load her suitcase into the trunk while she climbed into the back seat with her helmet in her lap. She gave him the address of a small apartment complex she'd found online, the kind of place that didn't require credit checks or references, just first and last month's rent in cash.

They pulled away from the Moretti estate and Jayda watched it disappear in the side mirror, watched the life she'd built with Antonio shrink smaller and smaller until it was just another mansion on a street full of mansions, indistinguishable from all the others.

The apartment was small, plain, nothing like the sprawling estate she had just left with its marble floors, its crystal chandeliers, its rooms that echoed with emptiness. But when she walked through the door and set her suitcase down in the middle of the bare living room, when she looked around at the blank walls, the scuffed floors, the windows that let in actual sunlight instead of the filtered expensive kind, she felt something shift in her chest.

This space was hers and hers alone, no memories lurking in corners, no ghosts haunting hallways, no Antonio.

She sat down on the floor with her back against the wall, her phone in her hand, staring at Lucas's name in her contacts while her thumb hovered over the call button. Five months, the doctor had said, five months if she was lucky though luck seemed like a strange word to use for a death sentence.

She thought about the hospital, about the way Margaret had cried while Jayda sat there numb and disconnected. She thought about Antonio, about the divorce papers, about the way he'd looked at her like she was an inconvenience instead of the woman he'd once promised to love forever. She thought about the racing helmet sitting beside her, about the roar of an engine, about the blur of speed, about the feeling of being so completely alive that nothing else mattered.

Her chest tightened with something that felt almost like hope.

She pressed call.

Lucas answered on the second ring, his voice rough like she'd woken him even though it was past nine in the morning. "Jayda?"

She closed her eyes, took a breath that hurt more than it should have.

"I want to race again."