Page 74 of In the Long Run
‘Uh-huh.’
‘Can you move it?’
I rotate it carefully, testing to see where the pain is.It’s tender, definitely, but not terrible.A dull ache as opposed to a full-on throb.
‘Do you think you can stand?’
Do you think you can kiss it better?
Knox helps me to my feet, his hands not leaving mine while I check to see if I can bear weight.It’s not terrible but running’s going to suck.Tears prick at my eyes, which is so stupid.Falling is so stupid.I should’ve been paying attention to the trail, not letting myself get lost in an adult’s only game of ‘what if’ where Knox and I were the only participants.Lowering my head so Knox can’t see my tears, I swipe at my face, transferring all the dirty grit from my hands onto my cheeks.My chest constricts as I try to stop more tears from flowing.
‘How bad is it?’Knox shifts so we’re face-to-face.His eyes soften when he notices my tears.
‘It’s okay,’ I sniff.‘I can run.’
His smile isn’t even a tiny bit patronising as he uses his thumbs to wipe away the mess on my cheeks before pulling me into his arms.‘Here’s what we’re going to do,’ he says, his words muffled as he speaks into the top of my hair.‘We’re going to take a minute.Catch our breath.’
‘But what about …’
He tilts my chin up.We’re standing so close.Chest to chest with so much of our skin touching.It’s intoxicating.The ache in my ankle fades.
‘I don’t give a shit about this race, Gen.I care about you being okay.When you’re ready, we can walk.See how it feels.If it’s sore, we’ll stop at the last aid station, catch a lift to the finish.Brigitte’s Run has always been our goal.’
I hate the idea of not finishing though, and it’s notthatsore.‘And if I want to keep going?’
He shrugs.‘Then we keep going.You call the shots.’
It’s a testament to the universal runners’ code that everyone who passes us checks to see if we need help.Violet stops and tries to walk with us, but she’s found her stride and I’m not going to hold anyone else back.My ankle stops feeling like it has its own heartbeat.And Knox starts talking, really talking.
He tells me more about his life in the Army.Where he’s been posted and the jobs he’s had.He uses acronyms like they’re punctuation and half the time I have no idea what he’s talking about, but he shares some of the most ridiculous nicknames he’s heard and stories that make me laugh, my sides hurting when he impersonates Yeti doing the walk of shame from his Commandant’s house.I don’t know what a Commandant is, but they sound important and like someone that a young Lieutenant probably shouldn’t be spending the night with.
‘Do you think you’ll be in the Army forever?’I ask as the final aid station comes into view.A couple of volunteers stand behind it, big containers of orange quarters and lollies in front of them.At the end of the trestle table are big water drums for refilling bottles or water bladders.Next to them is a St John’s ambulance and a medic in green coveralls.
‘I don’t know.Eug isn’t getting any younger, and all of this has really rammed home how far away I am.It puts things in perspective, you know.’
‘Like?’
Knox ducks his head, and from this angle, all I can see are his long lashes fanned across his skin.He keeps his gaze fixed on the ground.‘Like maybe I could be someone different.’
No way am I stopping this conversation to get my ankle checked out.Besides, it’s feeling almost normal.The walk was a good idea.
‘What would you want to change?’
‘So much.’
This surprises me.‘Really?’
His laugh is dry, humourless.‘I haven’t always made the right decisions.’
All the things Brand has said about Knox come back in a rush.That I don’t really know him.That I wouldn’t want to if I did.That he’s going to disappoint me.
‘Everyone makes mistakes.God knows I have.’
‘Mine were big ones.’He tries to smile but it doesn’t stick, his lips flattening as though shame is weighing them down.
‘I slept with a married man, Knox.Doesn’t get much worse than that.’
‘But you didn’t know he was married, which is a very important distinction.’
