Page 43 of In the Long Run

I shrug. Truthfully, the way Gen reacted before makes me feel like I’ve been planning for a future she might not have even really considered.

We talked about deciding what to do next after the run, but it feels like she’s already made up her mind.

Add that to the weight of the baggage from my past and all the confidence I thought I’d found here – found with her – is under siege.

I scrub a hand down my face. It’s a delaying tactic, but Eugene lets me get away with it.

My plan had been perfect. Get a staff job in Melbourne – or see if I could get approval to work remotely long-term – and try this new life on for size.

Give Gen a chance to get used to me being around without an exit date hanging over our heads.

Give us the space to really become something. It was low risk and high reward.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Eugene asks.

I shrug. ‘I don’t know.’

He sniffs loudly … and, fair. It does smell like bullshit in here.

‘Didn’t seem like you were all that excited about this job offer.’ He scratches his beard. We’re not related by blood, but we’ve both got the same tell for when we want to say something but aren’t sure how to.

‘I’m not.’

‘Why’s that?’ It’s a typical Eugene response. No judgement or pressure. Just a question designed to keep me talking, like he’s thrown a little bit of bait into the water and he’s waiting for a fish to bite.

What about Gen?

What about my confession that I wanted to stay?

What about how happy I’ve been lately?

But if those things are true, then so are their flipsides. At least, that’s how life works in my experience.

What if I risk everything and end up with nothing?

What if Gen doesn’t want what I want?

What if I’m not enough?

Aside from agreeing to be together while I’m here, we haven’t discussed the future. For someone who prides themself on keeping their life tidy, I’ve made a big mess.

‘Seems like a simple decision to me,’ Eug says.

My head snaps up, an incredulous laugh bursting out of me. He’s always been like this. ‘Eug—’

He lifts his hand, quietening me. ‘I’d like you to listen, little mate.’ The nickname surprises us both, based on the way his eyes widen and the nostalgic smile he gives. ‘Don’t worry about everyone else. Make this decision for yourself. Do what’s best for you.’

I shake my head. ‘But I’m not the only person affected by this.’

Eugene reaches for my hand and squeezes it. ‘But you have to live with your choices, so you need to decide what you want first. If you’re not happy within yourself, then you can’t be happy for or with someone else. It doesn’t work like that. Why do you think I haven’t tried to find someone new?’

Because he loved Alizée so much that losing her destroyed him? At least, that’s what I’ve always assumed. I verbalise my thoughts in a softer way. ‘Because you don’t want anyone else?’

He smiles. ‘Because I don’t need anyone else. But sometimes I think I’ve done you as much of a disservice as your parents did, you know.’

I lean back against the couch, unsure of where this unexpected tangent is going. ‘How do you figure that?’

‘I should’ve talked to you more about this when you were younger. I’ve inadvertently set another bad example for love.’

I shake my head. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Your parents couldn’t see past their love for each other, and it had terrible consequences for you and everyone around them.’

My father told me once that the only thing he regretted about their crimes was that they had to serve their sentences separately. He never mentioned me.

‘And after Alizée passed, well, I never tried with anyone else. She would be furious with me for that, by the way. She’d have wanted me to find someone new who made me smile.

’ Eugene clasps his hands together in front of his chest. ‘But that wasn’t right for me, and that was my choice.

All my smiles will always belong to her.

If I could go back in time, I’d still sit down next to the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen and tell her I was going to name a patisserie after her one day.

I’d convince her to give this guy from the other side of the world who couldn’t speak French without a terrible accent a chance.

Because the years I had with her make everything worth it, even losing her and having to live without her. ’

Tears prick at my eyes. They’re swimming in Eugene’s.

‘Don’t you get lonely?’ I ask.

‘Sure.’ He shrugs. ‘But I’d be lonelier without my memories. And I’m happy with my choice. It was the right one for me. I don’t have any regrets.’

‘I don’t want to leave,’ I confess.

‘Then you don’t leave,’ Eugene says simply. ‘You make your life work for you.’

‘It’s that easy, huh?’ My laugh is watery.

Eugene plays with his wedding ring. ‘It really is.’

I picture it all as I walk to the Clamshell. Surprising Gen and her family. Showing her that I’m all in.

I push open the door, my gaze searching the crowded dining room.

Anneke is sitting at a table in the middle with a guy who looks like he’s early forties.

Luckily for her – and him – he has a full head of hair that can’t possibly be fake.

I return her wave but keep weaving through the tables.

It’s too cold for the Hallidays to be sitting out the front, and they aren’t in any of the booths.

After another lap of the dining room where I recognise more faces from Croissants and Kilometres and the gym, I remember Gen saying that her mum likes to make everyday events special. And that Caleb can usually hook them up with the function space upstairs if it’s not booked.

With each step up the stairs, my confidence grows.

Gen’s going to look up and see me, and my favourite smile will spread across her face.

It’s the one that starts with her biting her lower lip and transforms into a blush.

I love that smile. I’ll tilt my head to the side and shrug.

It’ll be a wordless apology that I’ll follow with a verbal one once we’re alone.

And all the other things I should’ve already told her.

I smooth a hand down the button-up I threw on before leaving the house. Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes. This is it . I’m so fucking proud of myself for being here.

I’m about to step through the slightly ajar door when I register the conversation that’s happening inside the room.

‘Knox isn’t the one for me,’ Gen says.

I freeze, hand outstretched, ears straining.

‘It wasn’t ever serious. Just a bit of fun between two people who are in the same place at the same time. I’m sorry if you got your hopes up.’

Her words are a sledgehammer to my chest.

‘Genevieve …’ Eva says something else, but it’s muffled and I don’t catch it. Not that it matters, really. What Gen says is the only thing that’s important.

‘Don’t “Genevieve” me, Mum. Not everything is a great love story. Sometimes things just are what they are.’

‘But you’ve been so happy!’ Eva says. Or maybe I’m imagining it because my ears are ringing.

‘It’s been great, but it’s not going anywhere.’

I saw it going everywhere.

Gen’s just made it very clear that she won’t be asking me to stay, which … fucking sucks. I shake my head and try to push away the pain, because this is a good thing. Now I know where I stand, and I don’t have to face asking Gen for something she’s not prepared to give me.

I spin around and head down the stairs, doing my best to step lightly, which is hard considering my whole body feels like it’s made of cement.

I know what will happen if Gen sees me now.

She’ll be embarrassed and stammer out something about how she’s sorry that I found out this way.

And then her eyes will fill with that look I’ve seen too many times.

It’s pity. And I can’t .

For some people life is just a series of quiet heartbreaks and disappointment.

One day, when the pain fades, I’ll be able to recognise that there can be joy and growth in between the challenging moments.

Because it is a gift that I got to be here and fall in love – even if I never got the chance to tell Gen – and that’s something to be grateful for.

But not today.

It’s not Gen’s fault that she doesn’t feel the same way. That I let my hopefulness cloud what must’ve been obvious. I thought I was doing so much better, but here I am being blindsided once again.

I send Gen a quick message blaming the marathon training for exhausting me and tell her I’m having an early night, that I’ll catch her tomorrow for the run. There doesn’t have to be a big dust-up or a conversation that will make us both feel bad.

Sometimes things just are what they are.

And sometimes life just fucking sucks.