Page 25 of Meet Me in a Mile

Twenty-Five

Luke

T rekking into Fitness Forum early on a Sunday morning was usually a quiet affair, but he’d walked onto the subway to find it crawling with runners and supporters carrying giant, handwritten neon signs. It was the first Sunday of November—marathon day. Part of him had thought about turning around and marching straight back to bed until all the chaos died down, but he had training plans to go over and clients to call, and he’d already wallowed enough. Avoiding the city today because it reminded him of Lydia was ridiculous and would do absolutely nothing to help him get over the hollow feeling in his chest. He had to start moving on. He could handle a little marathon madness.

He threw the gym door open, nodding to Dara at the front desk.

“Wow,” Dara said. “You look rough.”

“Do you ever say anything nice?” Luke muttered.

“I try not to make a habit of it.”

“What are you doing here?” Jules called, coming down the hall toward them. “I thought it was race day.”

Dara chimed in from behind the desk. “Oh, yeah, aren’t you supposed to be at the marathon with Lydia?”

A bead of guilt caught in his gut. He’d promised to get her across that finish line, but in the end, neither of them were going to be there. “Change of plans. She decided not to run.”

“What?” Jules asked. “Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure that’s what yelling ‘I quit’ and storming off means.” Luke avoided looking at Jules. Could she see right through him? Part of him wanted to turn and run the way he had the night he saw Lydia with Jack.

Jules still wore a look of confusion. “I thought I saw her here last night, outside your office.”

That was odd. “You’re sure it was her?”

“I thought maybe you’d told her to pick something up for the marathon. But if it wasn’t for the race...” She trailed off.

Luke immediately headed down the hall. His office door was already open. He flipped on the lights, finding it empty inside, but there was a folder on his desk, addressed to him. He crossed the room and put his bag down on a chair, picking up the folder.

He flipped it open, confused at first by the stack of colored sketches. He twisted the folder, reading off the tiny descriptors until he recognized the layout of the warehouse. This was his gym. A note fell out of the pile of paperwork. He caught it. Opened it. It was filled with Lydia’s loopy handwriting. Luke , it read.

I’m sorry about the way things ended between us.

I never meant to hurt you. When you confessed how you felt, I panicked. I wasn’t ready to admit to my feelings. That I liked you too. More than I should have. More than a trainer or a friend. And I’m sorry I let you think that your feelings were one-sided.

His heart thundered as he stopped reading. Did this say what he thought it said? Had Lydia just admitted that this was real between them? He found his place in the note again.

You were right about a lot of things the day we fought. But mostly that I was giving up on myself. So I’ve decided to run.

Wait, what?

I don’t know if I’m ready... I think I am. I finished the training.

Luke shook his head. If he’d known that she wanted to... If he’d had any inkling that she still planned to run...he would have been there with her. He would have finished this, regardless of how he felt. Luke scrubbed a hand through his hair, letting out a desperate little laugh. Why was he even shocked? Lydia had been surprising him since the moment they met.

I don’t know if any of this makes things okay between us, but I just wanted you to know that I’m grateful for everything you taught me. And I hope you get to have your gym one day and that it’s everything you could imagine. Maybe these sketches will help with your business plan.

There were pages of designs. The gym floor. His office. The break room. The changerooms. He brushed his thumb over the circular reception desk in the middle of the floor plan mock-up. She’d done all this for him?

His chest tightened, the emotion threatening to burst between his ribs.

She’d remembered everything he’d said that day in the warehouse and she’d brought his dream to life.

He had to talk to her. To see her. But, God, she was at the race—the race that had already started—and on the day she needed him most, he was here. He grabbed his backpack, stuffed the folder inside and raced from the room.

“Now where are you going?” Dara said as he ran past.

“To meet Lydia at the finish line,” he called over his shoulder. “Cancel the rest of my day!”

Lydia

“Okay, good news,” Ashley said into the phone. “Mile two is going to be almost entirely downhill.”

Lydia snorted, turning from her view of the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge, munching on her prerace granola bar. It had been an early morning. She’d taken a ferry and then a bus to Fort Wadsworth in Staten Island to check into her starting village for the marathon. She was scheduled to start at 10:25 a.m. with the fourth wave of runners, and though she’d been so nervous this morning she could hardly stand still, Ashley had talked her out of her jitters. Now she was mostly excited. “So, what you’re really saying is my first mile is all uphill?”

Ashley laughed. Lydia smoothed her hand along the race number pinned to the front of her long-sleeve shirt. It was a cool, overcast day, and they’d lucked out with mild temperatures for race day, especially considering it was the beginning of November.

“Remember, don’t start too fast. You’re going to push it uphill that first mile and then come off this first bridge revved up, so make sure you settle back into your pace.”

Lydia snorted. “Any other last-minute google tips?”

“I’ve got a whole list here. Remember pacing and fueling, especially around the hills. Kirsten and I are gonna be in the crowd somewhere in Brooklyn.”

A flash of disappointment washed through her, and Lydia was almost ashamed. Of course, she was thrilled that Ashley and Kirsten had come out to support her in all of this, but a small part of her still couldn’t kick the thought that Luke was supposed to be here. He was supposed to help her get across the finish line today. That’s what they’d agreed to when this started. But heck, she’d blown everything up so badly she couldn’t blame him. She just hoped he knew how sorry she was.

“Hey,” Ashley said. “You’ve got this. We’ll see you soon.”

“Yeah,” she said, getting nervous again. “See you.” They hung up, and Lydia took a deep breath, reminding herself that she deserved this. She’d worked hard for this moment, now she was going to see it through and enjoy it—as much as anyone could enjoy running twenty-six miles.

She tucked her phone into the zippered pocket of her leggings, then waited for the announcement to line up. It was about a twenty-minute wait as her corral filled, and Lydia found herself jammed in amongst a bunch of other runners, bumping elbows and exchanging smiles. The energy was infectious, and she stepped from foot to foot to get some of the jitters out. She’d already decided she wasn’t going to track her run on her phone. There would be plenty of markers on the route to count down the miles. Attempting to figure out her mile time versus how far she still had to go would only stress her out and ruin her pacing.

The blast of an air horn initiated their start, and the entire crowd moved as one. Lydia felt like she’d been sucked into a school of fish as the group moved up the bridge. She focused on her breathing and her pacing as they climbed uphill. She didn’t try to dart or weave around slower runners, remembering something Luke had told her in training. Honestly, she was too busy taking in the view from the middle of the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge to be bothered with trying to get ahead: the tall, spiked buildings of the New York City skyline, the harbor and the Statue of Liberty. Lydia felt the sudden dip as the route turned downhill, and she naturally picked up her pace.

Coming off the bridge, Lydia was hit with her first wave of crowd support and she couldn’t help but smile at the cheering and signage as the race route took her through Brooklyn. Lydia found her pace, careful not to overexert herself coming off the downhill like Ashley had warned. She didn’t know what the next mile had in store for her, but she was never going to get there unless she put one foot in front of the other. Lydia thought about the conversations she’d had with Angela, about the job that had been tentatively offered at Coleman she felt like a scarecrow, made of straw and held up by nothing but a flimsy stake of wood. Her legs shook, her bones were grinding in their joints, and she staggered to a painful walk. The finish line was so close, but that last mile stretched out before her like a mountain. Even if she got down on her hands and knees and crawled, she didn’t know if she’d be able to cross that line.

She threw her head back, hands clutching the cramps in both her sides, wondering why she’d put herself through this hell. Her lungs burned. Her muscles screamed to end the torture. And Lydia considered it. She could sit down right here and be done with everything. Why did people do this to themselves?

Her phone buzzed, and she reached into her pocket expecting to find Ashley wondering if she’d finished the race. How would she tell her sister she’d flaked out right at the end? But the voice note wasn’t from Ashley. Lydia’s entire chest constricted as she pressed Play, lifting the phone closer to her ear.

“Hey, Lydia.” A sob rushed up her throat as she heard Luke’s voice. Maybe it was because she hadn’t thought he would ever talk to her again. Or maybe it was just the pent-up race emotions. “If I’ve been timing you right these last five months, you’re probably approaching mile twenty-five, and you probably want nothing more than to quit right about now.” She laughed at the absurdity of it. At how well he knew her. “But this is it. This is the last push. So you’ve gotta dig deep. You’ve gotta keep going. I’ve watched you crush run after run for months. This is no different. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

Lydia stumbled forward, her shins complaining with every step.

“I know we both said some things, and I’m...sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to start this day with you. But I’m here now. Waiting on the other side of the finish line. All you have to do is meet me in a mile.”

The voice note ended and Lydia wanted to burst into tears, but there were no tears left after all the sweating she’d done. She’d just have to get to that finish line and tell Luke she was sorry too.

She forced herself to keep moving. To keep breathing. Then she spotted the finish line, the route bordered on either side by dozens of international flags and crowds of cheering fans. Lydia practically hobbled, her stride sloppy, but she kept moving and moving and moving until there was nowhere left to run.

She’d done it.

She’d finished.

She was too exhausted to do anything but snap a sweaty postrace picture to prove she’d survived. Then she was ushered along by volunteers, congratulated, and escorted to an area where she received a medal and a recovery bag. She went straight for the bottle of Gatorade, doing her best not to guzzle it down and make herself sick.

She had to exit the park at 77th Street, so she headed in that direction, practically limping on her way out. She approached the American Museum of Natural History and that’s where she saw him. Luke. Holding what looked to be a hastily drawn sign on the back of some dingy cardboard. She laughed, wondering if he’d plucked the cardboard out of someone’s recycling. As she drew closer, she could read the sign: I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT. She thought about closing the distance by running and jumping into his arms, but she didn’t have one ounce of energy left for running.

Instead, he came to her, opening his arms wide.

“Congratulations,” he said as she collapsed against him. “You did it!”

She didn’t care if they both tumbled to the ground. She let all her weight sag against the strength of his hug.

“Just under four and a half hours. That’s an amazing time for your first marathon.”

“First and only,” Lydia laughed. “Let’s just get that straight.”

“Never say never,” Luke said, lifting his hand to wipe the sweaty hairs from her face. “How do you feel?”

“Terrible,” she said, grinning. “But also sort of amazing.” The intense adrenaline and the thrill of accomplishment had yet to fade. More than that, she’d found this sense of freedom during the race—instead of running away from something, it felt like she’d been running toward something new and exciting. “I got your voice note.”

“I was hoping to catch you before you finished the race.”

“You did. Perfect timing too. I needed a bit of cheering to get me across the finish line.”

“I promised I would get you there.” He tilted his head as he looked at her. “Why didn’t you tell me you were still going to run? I would have followed through with your training.”

Lydia squeezed his free hand, the one that wasn’t holding onto the sign. “I know you would have. And I couldn’t have done it without all your support and everything that you’d taught me, but I also realized that I needed to do that last part by myself. To prove to myself—”

“That you were capable of great things?” Luke nodded, like he understood. “I got your drawings,” he said, reaching into his bag to pull out the folder. “I just... I can’t believe you did all this. Spent all this time...”

She bit her lip. “I thought maybe they could help.”

“They’re amazing. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I wanted to do something,” she said. She caught his eye and couldn’t look away. “I wanted...”

“What?” He was almost as breathless as she still felt.

“I just wanted you to know that you were right about a lot of things during our fight. I was giving up on myself, pushing you away because I was chasing a future I thought I needed, not the one I actually wanted. And when I finally figured that out, I didn’t want there to be any more blurred lines between our training and our feelings for each other. I wanted you to know how much you mean to me. That this—” she gestured between them “—was something serious...something real.”

“Well, that’s good,” Luke said softly, quietly, shuffling to flip that crappy cardboard sign over. On the back he’d written: I LIKE YOU AS MORE THAN A TRAINER. MORE THAN A FRIEND. They were the same words she’d written in her note to him. Butterflies exploded in her chest.

“After everything?” she said just as softly. “You still want this?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.

She surged forward and he wrapped his arms around her, sweeping her up in a kiss. It was hot and desperate and a little bit out of control as she clung to him. Her arms locked around his neck, her lips like fire against his. A fire she wanted to stoke until they were both burning. But that would have to wait until they weren’t standing in the middle of the street. Until she felt like she could stand on her own two feet without crumbling into an exhausted puddle.

“It is good timing,” she said when they finally broke apart.

“Hmm?”

“Since you can officially sign off as my trainer.”

Luke frowned. “You’re not gonna miss Trainer Luke? Even a little?”

She laughed and kissed him again. “Don’t you think it’s time we replace him? Boyfriend Luke has a nice ring to it.”

He smiled down at her, stroking her sweaty cheek. “Boyfriend it is.”