felt the leather tighten around my fingers as i adjusted my grip on Jupiter's reins.
He was as restless as i was—pacing, snorting, eyes wild with the scent of wind and dust and a crowd we hadn't seen in years.
Three years.
Three whole years since i last sat in this saddle, since i last heard the crackle of the starting bell, the pounding of hooves tearing through an open track.
I was twenty-six now and for the first time in a long time, I wasn't alone.
Celestine's laughter echoed from the sidelines.
"Mama!" she called, somewhere behind the fences.
Her voice was still tiny, high-pitched, pure. Two years old and she already ruled my world.
I turned slightly, searching past the sea of heads and hats and sunglasses until i caught a glimpse of her hair bouncing as she clung to Yaya Minda's hand, her other hand waving at me as if i were about to fly off to the moon.
I smiled.
This wasn't just about winning today.
It wasn't about reclaiming who i used to be.
It was about showing my daughter that her mother still had fire in her, still had something left to fight for.
Even if my body was exhausted, even if the nights had been sleepless, even if the world had written me off already.
"Ready?" the handler asked, patting Jupiter's side.
I gave him a nod, swallowed the tightness in my throat, and fixed my eyes on the gates.
This is for her.
The bell rang.
And just like that, the world exploded around me.
Dust flew. Hearts raced. Screams blurred into silence. All i heard was Jupiter's breath and the wild beat of my own heart, drumming in sync with his stride.
We were flying faster, tighter, sharper.
Each turn, each pull of the rein, each flicker of muscle memory that returned like instinct.
When we crossed the finish line, i didn't even notice at first that we had won.
It wasn't until people started clapping, until someone threw a bouquet into my lap, until Jupiter slowed and the announcer called my name for the fifth time in my riding career that I realized, we did it.
I did it.
My throat burned from the scream i let out.
I tossed my helmet into the air and raised my fists, laughing through the ache in my chest.
And then i looked up.
And froze.
There, by the far end of the arena, behind a thin rail of security and audience… he stood.
Lorenzo.
Still.
Unmoving.
Like a ghost i never expected to see again.
The same dark eyes.
The same jaw i once traced with trembling fingers in the dark.
His hands were clenched.
His shirt half tucked, like he had rushed to get here.
The sun haloed behind his head, and for a second just one stupid second, it felt like no time had passed at all.
But it had.
So much had passed.
Too much.
I kicked gently, guiding Jupiter toward the stable, but my hands were shaking.
I didn't know if it was adrenaline or anger or panic.
I just needed to get to Celestine.
I needed to get to her before he could see.
Before he could know.
I hopped off the saddle as soon as we hit the barn.
Barely said thank you to the handlers.
My boots echoed across the concrete floor as i ran, dodging people, pulling off my gloves and helmet with trembling fingers.
Where's Yaya Minda?
I scanned the crowd desperately until i saw them, thank God! already moving away from the grandstands.
Celestine in her arms, giggling as Yaya whispered something in her ear.
They saw him too.
Of course they did.
I was halfway there when i felt it.
A hand around my wrist.
"Don't," I said without turning. My voice broke. "Let me go."
"I just want to talk."
Lorenzo.
His voice was lower than i remembered. Rough.
But it still pulled something deep out of me—something i thought i'd buried.
"There's nothing to talk about," I snapped, pulling away.
But he didn't let go.
"Atasha, please."
I closed my eyes.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
I could feel his breath on my neck.
His hand trembled slightly against mine.
Behind us, Yaya Minda was already moving, expertly turning away. disappearing with Celestine into the crowd, like it was rehearsed.
It wasn't.
But she knew me.
She knew what to do.
She always did.
I turned to him.
"If this is about closure or apologies or whatever half-assed explanation you brought, just—don't. Save it."
He didn't speak.
Not right away.
Just stared at me like he was drowning and I was the only thing keeping him afloat.
"I've been looking for you," he said finally. "For years. You changed numbers. Your place in Philippines was empty. Your social media—nothing. I even flew to the US hoping maybe you'd go back to riding."
"You're three years late," I said.
"I never stopped."
There was a lump in his throat as he said it. His voice cracked. "I called every stable. Watched every match, even when you weren't listed. Just hoping. Hoping i'd see you again."
I swallowed hard, hands balled into fists.
"Why?" I whispered.
"Because i never stopped loving you."
My knees buckled slightly at that.
But i didn't let him see.
I held my chin high, even though the tears were already pooling in my eyes.
"You're married," I said. "Congratulations."
He shook his head, eyes glinting.
"It didn't happen. I couldn't go through with it. Because it wasn't you."
My breath caught.
"Don't do this," I whispered.
"I miss you, Atasha, every fucking single day!" he said, stepping closer. "I miss your laugh, your temper, your smell, I miss the way you used to hum when you braided your hair, or how you practice in the Grand circuit."
I blinked fast, my vision blurring.
"You don't know how it felt, almost three years of not knowing where you were, if you were okay, if you were happy. I was going insane. I kept asking myself if you ever thought of me, even once. If i mattered at all."
"You mattered," I whispered. "But you don't get to come back and pick up where you left off, as if it didn't hurt, as if it didn't hurt like a shit of glass."
"Why not?"
I stared at him.
Because everything's different now.
Because i have a daughter.
Because you don't even know her.
Because i can't let you break her heart the way you broke mine.
But i couldn't say it.
Not yet.
So i turned.
And walked away.
But he followed me.
We ended up by the empty field near the stables.
No one was around.
Just the sound of the wind brushing through tall grass, and the distant chatter of riders and families heading to their cars.
I stopped.
Spun around.
"What do you want from me?" I shouted.
He stopped a few feet away, breathing hard.
"I want the truth."
"You already have it."
"No. I want your truth, Atasha. I want to know what happened, Why you left, Why you disappeared without a word, Tell me! Yell at me! Hit me if you have to. But please—don't walk away again."
My breath caught in my throat.
Because i wanted to scream.
I wanted to punch his chest until he cracked open.
I wanted to ask how dare you.
How dare you hold me now when you didn't choose me then.
But instead—
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
I pressed my palms to my face, my body shaking.
It was all just too much.
The pretending.
The hiding.
The weight of acting like i'd healed when i hadn't even started.
"I was scared," I whispered, barely able to get the words out. "I didn't know how to face you after everything. I didn't know how to look at you and not feel like i was drowning in shame."
He stepped closer, quietly. Slowly.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of."
"Then why didn't you choose me?"
My voice broke.
"Why her? Why not fight for me?"
The tears came harder now.
"You let me go, Lorenzo. You let me believe i never mattered."
"I made a mistake."
His voice was raw.
"I was weak. I thought i was doing the right thing. I thought you were better off without me and by the time i realized how wrong i was—you were gone."
I wiped my face with the back of my hand.
"It's too late."
He nodded.
Just once.
"I know. But i needed to see you. Even if you hate me. Even if all i get is five minutes of looking at you again."
I looked up.
Really looked.
At the man i once thought i'd marry.
At the man whose name i almost gave my child.
His eyes were glassy, rimmed with red.
He was crying.
And maybe i should've pushed him away.
Maybe i should've reminded him he was once engaged and left me as if i'm just a piece of shit.
That this was a mistake.
That i didn't belong in his arms anymore.
But i didn't.
I didn't flinch when he pulled me close.
I didn't move when his arms wrapped around me like i was something breakable.
And i didn't stop him when he kissed me like it was the last thing keeping him alive.
Because maybe it was the last time.
Or maybe… it wasn't.
-
Later that night, the silence between us wasn't heavy anymore.
We were tangled in white sheets, the city lights leaking through the curtains.
His breath was steady beside mine.
I didn't know what we were.
Or what would happen when the sun came up.
But for that one night, I wasn't someone's shame, or secret, or scar.
I was just Atasha.
And for the first time in a long time… that was enough.