Chapter 10 - THE FIRST RACE
Two years after the accident, Ethan and Logan entered their first adaptive racing competition.
Thousands of people filled the stadium.
Claire sat beside me.
Maria sat on my other side.
I couldn't stop shaking.
Ethan rolled onto the track.
Logan looked at him.
“You're going down.”
Ethan laughed.
“Dream on.”
The whistle blew.
They raced.
For the first time since the accident, I didn't see wheelchairs.
I saw athletes.
I saw courage.
I saw my sons.
Ethan finished first by less than a second.
Logan finished right behind him.
They both laughed.
The crowd erupted.
Claire cried.
Maria hugged me.
I looked at her.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For staying.”
She smiled.
“You stayed too.”
That mattered.
Because I had spent years believing love was something you provided with money.
A mansion.
A car.
A trust fund.
A company.
I was wrong.
Love was showing up.
Every morning.
Every difficult night.
Every painful recovery.
Every time your child said, “Dad, I'm scared,” and you answered, “I'm right here.”
After the race, Ethan wheeled toward me.
“Dad!”
I bent down.
“You did it.”
“No.”
He pointed at Logan.
“We did it.”
Logan nodded.
“We're not finished.”
I laughed.
May you like
“Neither am I.”
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