Page 33 of In the Long Run

‘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 not that sore. ‘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.’

‘That’s true.’

‘My parents went to jail when I was eleven.’ He says it so quietly that his words almost get lost under the crunch of our shoes on the gravelly rail trail.

I want to stop to give this moment my full attention, but Knox doesn’t pause or break stride. And I get it, because I’m the same. When something presses on one of my tender spots, all I want to do is keep moving. Put it as far behind me as I can.

‘What—’

‘Did they do?’ He wipes his brow with the sweatband on his wrist. ‘Defrauded a lot of people. Started small and got lucky a few times, were able to deliver huge returns on investments. Then they got greedy. Targeted elderly investors because they were easy gets. Sold them down the river on investments that never existed.’ His throat works furiously.

‘They were relentless. No one was safe. Not even Dad’s parents – Mum’s died when she was young. And Eugene’s mother lost everything.’

‘Oh my God,’ I whisper.

‘She wasn’t the only one. So many people were affected by their actions. They were in the news. A lot.’

Now what he said to Violet right before we kissed makes sense. About giving himself grace.

‘The trial was horrendous. I was already living with Eugene by then and he did his best to shield me, but I couldn’t escape it.

Not totally. Kids at school were horrible.

But it died down eventually. Then there was a special exposé when I was in high school.

Kind of a ‘where are they now’ for the victims, and that brought everything back up.

Brand made sure everyone at school knew what they’d done, convinced them I was like my parents. He called me Jailbird constantly.’

Our pace has slowed to a crawl. A group pass us, tossing a jovial ‘Can you believe we paid money for this!’ at us like we’re all in on the same joke.

‘That’s a dumb nickname. You weren’t a jailbird,’ I say, my heart breaking for Knox. High school was unpleasant enough for me, and all I had to worry about was normal teenage stuff.

He draws in a loud breath. ‘I almost was. I was so angry and I got into some dumb shit – fights and smashing windows of abandoned houses, businesses. I’m so lucky I only ever got caught vandalising a few signs – but I ended up getting an official warning from the cops.

Probably would’ve been charged if Eug hadn’t gone in to bat for me.

He explained that I was a good kid trying to make sense of what my parents had done.

That I was being bullied at school because of it.

He promised to get me into therapy, help me get my head screwed back on straight.

That’s when he enrolled me in Cadets, got me into going to the gym.

I still don’t know why he did all that for me. ’

‘I do.’

Knox’s head snaps towards mine.

‘Because what happened with your parents wasn’t your fault.’

He sighs. ‘Part of their defence was that they’d been told I had a medical condition that required expensive treatment in Germany. We didn’t have much when I was growing up. But the doctor who told them that had passed away so there wasn’t any proof.’

He’d been ill? ‘What about medical records?’ I ask.

‘There weren’t any, because they didn’t exist. Probably picked his name out of the phone book. I was never sick, Gen. They just used me as an excuse to try and get away with what they’d done.’

My stomach hollows out, because parents are supposed to love and protect their children. Always. There’s no middle ground.

‘They’re bad people,’ Knox says. ‘That’s all there is to it.’

‘But that doesn’t mean you’re bad.’

Knox twists away from me but I grab his arm. Stop us. In the middle of the path. People can go round, I don’t care. This is more important. It might be the most important thing I’ve ever said. ‘Your parents’ mistakes aren’t your mistakes, Knox. You were a kid.’

Sorrow fills his eyes.

I know it’s mirrored in mine. ‘You didn’t deserve that. And I’m so pissed off at your parents right now. Ugh.’ I’m not even embarrassed when I throw my hands in the air, needing to do something with the rage rushing through my veins.

I’ve never met anyone like Knox before.

So good and kind and gentle.

So ready to show up for people, even when it’s hard for him.

And knowing so many people have hurt him … What a way to put my feelings for him into perspective. I really care about Knox. This isn’t just a crush on a hot guy with a good personality. Or a way to try to get my confidence back.

The thought of him being sad destroys me.

‘I need to run,’ I huff. It’s only a kilometre to the finish. My ankle will be fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.

‘Are you sure?’ See, he’s so nice.

‘Yes,’ I say, taking off.

‘We should slow down,’ Knox says, tapping his watch screen. ‘We’re going too fast.’

‘I’m not slowing down.’

Our feet find the same rhythm, arms moving in unison, and the water sloshing in Knox’s pack matches every exhale that passes my lips.

I’m so mad. And sad. And determined to make sure Knox knows his past doesn’t change how I feel about him. That he doesn’t need to let it hold him back, or stop him from wanting things. I’ll keep telling him until he believes me.

The noise level rises as we approach the finishers’ chute. People ring cow bells and cheer. I see Violet, Anneke, the Army runners. All with medals around their necks, grins on their faces.

I notice something else too: the cameras.

PDAs have never been my thing, but maybe that’s because I’ve never had someone I wanted to be public with. Someone I trust to take care of me and let me do the same for them. Someone I really want to show up for.

‘Hey,’ Knox grunts between breaths as we approach the finish line, reaching for my hand. Our palms connect and we cross the line together, hand in hand.

He smiles, his pace naturally slowing, but I tug him backwards so we’re still under the inflatable arch and wrap my arms around his neck. ‘I like you, Knox Watson,’ I say.

There it is. The smile he couldn’t find before. The one that his past was trying to squash. It breaks over his face, finding its home between his ruddy cheeks, underneath his bright eyes. I hope it never gets lost again.

‘Gen,’ he whispers, ‘everyone’s looking at us.’

‘Good,’ is all I say before I press up onto my tiptoes and kiss him like I mean it.

Because I do.