Page 44 of In the Long Run

GEN

I tear my piece of sourdough in half and drag a chunk through the bowl of clam chowder in front of me.

‘Do we know what the baby is yet?’ Dad asks.

Mere and Bernie share a cute look. ‘Maybe,’ Mere demurs.

‘It’s a boy,’ I guess, grateful for the distraction from my thoughts.

‘I think it’s a girl,’ Dad says.

‘These are great suggestions.’ Bernie drapes his arm across the back of Mere’s chair and plays with the ends of her blonde hair.

It’s the kind of thing that I would’ve had no trouble imagining Knox doing before this afternoon’s phone call changed everything.

All my visions of finding a way for him to join us for casual family dinners and eventually becoming a permanent part of my life are gone.

‘It’s a shame Knox wasn’t able to join us tonight,’ Mum says, like she’s reading my mind. Or, more likely, my face. I force a smile, stretch the truth a little.

‘His godfather’s had a few health issues lately, and Knox wanted to spend the time with him.’

And I’d needed space. Time to swallow the bitter disappointment that everything between us is about to change. It’s funny – not funny, ha ha – how you can know something’s coming and think you understand it, but when it happens it still knocks the wind out you.

I knew he was leaving but I didn’t know it.

‘Still. It would’ve been nice to see him. Catch up on how things are going.’

It’s a different kind of funny how Mum pretends that Knox’s absence will stop that from happening. I push a clam around my bowl.

‘So?’ she presses.

‘Hmm?’ I feign confusion. Bernie hides his laugh with an unconvincing cough.

‘What have you two been up to? How are things going?’ Mum enunciates each word like she’s giving elocution lessons.

I lift my spoon and blow on the creamy liquid. ‘They’re fine.’

‘Fine like maybe one day we’ll all be wondering what gender your and Knox’s baby is?’

‘Mum!’ Mere laughs, the sound all light and airy. Her happiness makes my sister heart so happy. ‘Give them a chance to get to know each other properly.’

Her attempt to run interference is appreciated, but it’s more important than ever that I lower Mum’s expectations.

‘It’s not like that,’ I say, making sure to keep my tone even. Dad always says I get high-pitched when I lie. ‘Knox isn’t the one for me.’

Mum opens her mouth, but Dad settles his hand over hers and shakes his head.

‘It wasn’t ever serious,’ I continue. ‘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.’

The words feel foreign in my mouth and they’re hard to say, because they couldn’t be further from the truth. But Mum doesn’t need to know that.

‘Genevieve, no,’ Mum says.

‘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!’ Mum says.

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

Mum purses her lips and frowns down at her cutlery.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Nothing.’ She sighs.

‘Mum.’

‘Fine. It’s just that I don’t understand why this always happens. First with Tim, and then Brand, and now with Knox. As soon as things get serious, you bolt.’

That’s it.

‘Tim had a wife in Queensland,’ I say. My voice trembles but I push on.

‘I found that out when she messaged me on Instagram. That’s why he wanted me to keep our relationship a secret and wouldn’t meet anyone.

Not because we worked together, like he told me.

That’s why I left and started my own business.

’ I take a breath. ‘I only said yes to going out with Brand because I knew it would make you happy. And I tried to convince myself that it was fine that we had no chemistry, but he wanted more, so I did the right thing and ended it. He’s been stalking me since then, by the way. ’

I’ve shocked them all into silence.

‘Gen—’ Mum begins.

‘And Knox is moving to America for work,’ I blurt out, cutting her off, my spoon clattering to the table.

‘Okay? He’s leaving. It’s a huge opportunity for his career and he’s worked so hard for it.

He deserves to have nice things. And I’m’— I swallow around the lump in my throat—‘really happy for him.’

I will not cry.

‘And I’d appreciate it if we could talk about something else now, please.’

Thankfully, Dad takes me seriously and starts telling us about the caravan trip around Australia he and Mum have started planning. I listen half-heartedly, but my mind’s elsewhere.

When it’s time to say goodbye, Mum links our hands together. Meredith and Bernie have already left. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says.

‘Me too.’

‘You know, you could always try long distance. Sometimes things just need time to develop.’

Pretty sure Knox and I have had the opposite problem and things developed too quickly, but I keep that to myself and walk home alone.

Like always, Knox is waiting outside for me the next morning. But instead of doing his warm-up stretches, he’s sitting on the low wall that makes up part of Eugene’s fence, his arms crossed against the winter weather that’s ignoring the fact it’s supposed to be spring.

‘No girls today?’ I ask, stopping near him. Madeleine and Chouquette normally join us for the warm-up.

Knox stands, hands in his pockets. ‘I think we’ve finally tired them out. They hid under Eug’s bed when they saw the leads.’

I don’t kiss him hello and we both notice, but it’s time to start protecting myself again. He’s going to Washington and it’s everything he’s ever wanted.

‘Ready to go?’ I say.

Knox heaves a sigh. ‘Yeah.’

‘How’s Eugene?’ I ask as we jog down the path towards the beach.

‘He’s okay today.’ It’s like he’s talking to a friend or – worse – an acquaintance. ‘He’s getting ready to meet with some prospective buyers for Alizée’s later this morning.’

‘That’s good?’ I guess, because the man running next to me is someone I haven’t seen for months. The gaps in our conversation are so loud. ‘How do you feel about it all?’

‘I’ll support whatever he wants.’ Knox’s tone makes it clear that he doesn’t want to continue this topic of conversation.

A sharp wind carries the stink of seaweed towards us from the beach. I wrinkle my nose and push on, already counting down the minutes until this morning’s run is finished.

After an excruciatingly quiet kilometre, during which we don’t even acknowledge the start of any of Croissants and Kilometres’ Strava segments – something we always, always do – I can’t stand it any longer. ‘Caleb might be interested, you know.’

‘In what?’

‘Alizée’s. He’s got a lot of experience with desserts, and he’s always looking for new things to learn. He mentioned wanting a new challenge recently.’

Knox’s smile is the saddest one I’ve ever seen. ‘He should talk to Eugene. Be great if that worked out.’

I nod. ‘I’ll tell him. The Annas are finally getting ready to launch their fitness platform. Did you know that?’

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s the beta version to check all the membership and platform stuff works, but I’ve really enjoyed working with them.’ I’m babbling but I don’t care.

‘That’s awesome, Gen.’

‘They’ve introduced me to a few other influencers as well. My client book is fuller than ever. I’m going to be busy.’

I’m going to be okay is what I’m trying to tell him … and myself. And eventually it will be true.

‘I’m really happy for you,’ Knox says in the soft voice of his that I’ve always liked so much.

Might as well get the next bit over with. The Old Gen would’ve ignored the hard questions and buried her head in the sand, but I know it’s only delaying the inevitable. ‘When do you have to leave?’

Knox blows out a long, noisy breath and his pace slows. ‘Thursday night. I didn’t want to miss Eug’s review appointment with his surgeon.’

‘Wait.’ Panic creeps into my voice, adding a reedy edge to my words.

‘ This Thursday?’ I stop in the middle of the path.

Because it’s Tuesday. That means Knox is leaving the day after tomorrow.

And what? He’ll just be gone? Tendrils of hair stab at my face as the wind mimics my panic and whips itself into a frenzy. ‘What about Brigitte’s Run?’

I thought we’d have more time.

‘I don’t think I’ll be able to get back for it.’

‘But all your training? And run club on Sunday?’ It’s the last one before the run. We’re supposed to have a party at Alizée’s after, to celebrate how far we’ve all come and what we’re about to do.

Knox steps towards me and my body sways towards his automatically.

‘Sometimes things just are what they are,’ he says.

They’re the same words I said to my parents last night and I hate them even more right now.

Knox’s fingers trace my cheek before curling around the back of my neck, underneath where my ponytail sits. ‘I’m sorry, Gen.’

I blink and nod, hoping that my face has already gone as red as it usually does when I run so he can’t tell how close to crying I am. ‘What about Eugene?’ I ask. It’s one last paltry attempt at disguising what I really want to say.

‘He reckons he’ll be fine on his own, but Celeste is going to stay with him for a bit. Her lease is ending, so the timing is good.’

I nod, not trusting myself to speak.

‘I’m going to miss this,’ Knox says, his free hand sweeping out across the sand and waves, the path we’ve spent hours on.

‘I don’t think I know how to run by myself anymore,’ I whisper. ‘How am I supposed to do Brigitte’s Run without you?’

‘You don’t need me. You’re so strong, and you’ve done all the work. You’ll be fine.’

I don’t want to be fine. I want to do this together and let it be a shared memory, something that tethers us together forever. I wanted so much more than this.

‘Do you still like me?’ he asks quietly, and there’s so much vulnerability wrapped up in his question that it steals my breath.

‘Of course.’

I think I love you.

But Knox has always put himself last, and if this job is what he wants, then I’m not going to stop him.

‘Can I?’ He gestures towards me, stepping closer.

‘Please.’ I don’t want him close, I need it.

Knox’s kiss is soft, nothing more than a gentle sweep of his mouth against mine.

It’s so different to the long, exploratory kisses that have filled our afternoons and evenings when it’s just the two of us, tangled up in each other.

And it’s only once we’re running again that I realise why it felt so different.

Instead of leading to more kisses and more of everything that’s become so essential to me, it signalled the start of something else.

That this really is the beginning of our goodbye.

Disregarding my training plan so close to race day is a bad idea, but I can’t face the gym this morning.

Instead, I slink past Eugene’s courtyard.

Knox should’ve already left for the strength class he started going to a while back, but I’m not taking any chances.

Saying goodbye tomorrow is going to be brutal.

I don’t track my kilometres or my pace, I just run. Along the Esplanade and into Pinnacle Park. I shift to the edge of the pavement when a shadow crosses in front of me, giving the other runner plenty of room to pass.

The shadow draws closer and closer. I keep my eyes forward, hoping it’s not someone from Croissants and Kilometres. I can’t people right now.

As the runner passes me, their hand darts out. Grabs my wrist, yanks me sideways, off the path. I stumble but keep my feet. Just. The hand doesn’t let go. It grips tighter and oh, God.

It’s Brand.

‘Stop it. I just want to talk to you,’ he hisses as I thrash, trying to shake him off, my hands clawing at where he’s holding my arm, but it doesn’t work. As I attempt to wrench away from him the sleeve of my top tears. He grabs my other arm and pulls me towards the bushes.

He’s so scarily strong.

‘Genny. Stop. I need to make you see sense. It’s been so hard to get you on your own.’

I blink furiously. Tears cling to my lashes. Open my mouth and—

‘No one will hear you. It’s just us.’ Brand drags me further into the bushes. Their branches scratch at my face, my arms. The smell of damp earth surrounds us and dizziness overwhelms me. Little spots dance in front of my eyes.

Just breathe.

My movements slow and Brand smiles.

‘Good girl.’ Brand moves one hand away from my arm, smoothing a sweaty palm across my forehead, tucking loose strands of hair behind my ears. Bile rises in my throat.

I’m going to be sick.

‘You almost ruined everything, Genny. I had a plan, you know.’

The man’s deranged.

‘But it’s okay because we’re going to do great things together. I’m the future of Bolton Realty, and you’re my future.’

Maybe if I play along, I can get away.

‘I knew you were perfect for me the first time we met,’ he croons, his thumb digging into the flesh under my jaw. ‘But then you met Jailbird, and I had to get you away from him.’

Knox.

God, I wish he was here.

‘He’s always taken the things that are mine. He did it in high school and he tried to do it with you. But you’re mine, Genny,’ Brand says.

He’s still touching me, dragging his horrible hand all over my face, playing with my hair. His lips are too close to mine.

‘I know, I know. You want this too,’ he says. ‘I could tell you didn’t want to be with him. I’ve been trying so hard to make him leave. To save you so we could be together again.’

I’m shaking. I don’t know if it’s the adrenaline or fear. I need to get away from Brand. There’s a car park. On the main road. I’ll flag someone down.

Get to where the people are.

‘But it’s okay. I’ve got you now.’

‘Brand.’

Why has it taken me so long to speak? I think I’d forgotten I could.

‘Yes, Genny?’ He says it like we’re having a totally normal conversation. Like I’ve asked him to pass the salt. Or if he knew who won the football last night.

‘I’m so sorry,’ I manage to get out.

All his teeth appear. He likes it when I apologise.

‘Can you forgive me?’

Brand stands taller, pleased with himself, his gaze focused on my mouth.

A sliver of distance appears between us, and he releases my hands, leaning forward, about to kiss me.

I don’t second-guess myself, don’t hesitate.

Finding every skerrick of strength and energy I have, I plant my hands in the middle of his chest and shove.

Caught off-guard, he lurches to the side.

My knee swings up, hitting him right in the groin.

As he bows forward, hands clasped over his junk, I crash my elbow down between his shoulder blades.

And then I run like hell.

I crash through the bushes and the trees. Hands pushing off their rough trunks. Fall into the scratchy bark of one I’m not quick enough to dodge. I’m bleeding.

But I keep running.

And I know exactly where I’m going.

Who I need right now.

What I need to do.