Keep Me In | DR3 | BOOK 1

43 - Priorities

"Oh, you so like him!" Lando exclaimed excitedly in a hushed tone. "Look at you, you're blushing."

I bit my lip, taking a deep breath, "It could never work. God, I feel like I've been telling myself that for ages now. And plus, he's with Alana... I couldn't live with myself if I got in the way of that."

--

It took all of 3 days for me to be able to function without taking the prescription painkillers. And by function, I mean being able to at least get out of bed by myself. Wiggle my fingers without writhing in pain. You know, little things. Baby steps.

And even though I was still having to pop Tylenol as if they were candies to be able to get on by myself, I had somehow convinced my family that I was fine enough for us all to travel back to London. Plus, I wasn't the only one that had been itching to get back home. Dad and Carson were needed at the McLaren Tech Centre to analyze the data from Bahrain and prepare for Imola. As for the rest of us, Rory was needed to relieve Noah from holding off on important clients, Molly was tasked with the apparent duty of trying to find Lando a home in Monaco and closing the deal on Michael and Olivia's first London home, and Carlee was...

Well, getting on all of our last nerves. As per usual, whenever any of us were exposed to living with the woman for over a day. She was a lot, and more so than usual, with the pregnancy hormones playing into effect. Even she knew it.

I had a feeling that being back in London would make it a lot easier for me to feel as if I was on any sort of route to normalcy. Being in Monaco was nice, as it always was, however, home was London. Going home presented the opportunity to not be confined to my bed, or the couch, draped in blankets and doted on like a child by my family. London meant routine, it meant being closer to work, and it meant healing. Physically, and emotionally.

The reality of what had transpired before the crash had finally settled in. Mason and I had broken up.

There was no way he could have known about the accident. It wasn't reported in the news (thankfully), no one I knew had told him, and I surely wasn't going to call him to let him know. It was extreme, but I had been so distracted by totaling a car that I loved and almost losing my life in the process, that I hadn't had the chance to think about the fact that we had ended our short-lived relationship.

And oddly, thinking about it now, it hurt. More than I thought it would have.

I don't know if it was the idea that we had failed, and I was taking that to heart as a personal failure. I failed as a girlfriend, as someone's partner. This was actually something I had a lingering feeling would be true, and I'm sure I told enough people before Mason convinced me to say yes. And now, I had officially proved to myself that I really was too busy for a relationship, for love. I really didn't have what it took to make someone else happy, in that way. How hard could it be?

Or maybe I shouldn't be so hard on myself. I could shift the blame to Mason. Call it his fault for letting his jealousy effect us to this level, practically pushing me to the brink of death.

For some reason, though, I couldn't. I didn't want to blame him. Genuinely, I said yes that day in London when he asked me to be his girlfriend, because I wanted to be his girlfriend. A good girlfriend, at that. Someone he could tote around, show off to his friends, call after a long hard day at school and vent all his troubles to. I loved the idea of love, with someone that I could fall in love with. And it was my fault that that person couldn't be Mason.

It was also my fault for finding that person, and letting him slip right from under my fingers.

Either way, you looked at it- I was heartbroken. And single. Again. But yet, I was at peace with that. In the grand scheme of things, I had so many positive things in my life. I couldn't focus on the negative anymore. Mason was out of my life, and though it hurt, it was for the best.