March 21, 2007
Dear Trixie,
I'm sure Ryan isn't here to compete with me. He's an artist, according to Gerald. Not a race car driver.
For some reason, I have this feeling that this will be the last letter exchanged between us. Why, I don't know. I just do.
I love you, too, Trixie. You're my world. You're the reason why I get up in the mornings and why I fight so hard to win each race . . . There isn't anything that I wouldn't do for you. Anything. I'd walk through hell and back just to be wherever you are, Trixie.
I love you.
Speed