Abbey claps me on the back.‘Welcome to run club.’
‘I hate it here.’
She pulls me towards a group of shiny twenty-two-year-olds with smooth foreheads and functioning knees.
‘This is Jamie,’ Abbey says.‘She’s new.’
They smile as if I’m a stray dog they’ve decided to foster out of goodwill.I give them a wave that resembles a muscle spasm.Then Abbey spots someone and disappears with a casual ‘Back in a sec!’, leaving me standing alone.
I start stretching – or at least mimicking the general idea of stretching – when a voice says, ‘Jamie?’
I don’t have to turn, because I know that voice.The universe has a twisted sense of humour, and I clearly offended a god somewhere in a past life.
I turn anyway.
He’s wearing navy running shorts and a loose grey tee that clings in the right places, and he looks healthy and decent and – ugh – wholesome.
‘Tom,’ I say, blinking.‘Hey.’
He smiles, a little hesitant.‘Didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘Me neither,’ I admit.‘I, uh … I didn’t know this wasyourrun club.’
‘I just joined.Every Tuesday and Saturday.’
‘Cool.Yeah.Very cool.’I nod.There’s an awkward beat before I blurt, ‘I’m sorry.For ghosting you.For being a complete and utter mess.For … everything.’
Tom stares at me for a second, then he nods.‘It’s okay.’
‘I was dealing with some stuff, which I now realise is total bullshit and mostly me protecting myself from feeling like a garbage person.So … yeah.’
He chuckles softly.‘I thought you hated running.’
‘Idohate running,’ I say.‘My friend dragged me here.I think she’s hoping I’ll drink the Kool Aid.’
‘This group is actually great,’ he says.‘There’s a shorter route if you don’t want to do the full five.Just turn around at Mackenzies Point.’
‘Oh, thank God,’ I breathe.‘I was fully prepared to fake an injury or lie down on the beach and let the seagulls eat me.’
He shakes his head, smiling.‘You’ll be fine.Just pace yourself.’
I nod, feeling lighter and less haunted.‘So,’ I say, ‘how’s marathon training going?’
‘Good.Still brutal.But good.’He shrugs.‘I enjoy the structure.’
‘Yeah,’ I say.‘Structure sounds nice.’
We fall into an easy silence.
Then he says, ‘Would you want to grab dinner sometime?’
My heart stutters.Not in the exciting way, in the ‘please don’t make me do this again’ way.I could lie.I’ve done it a thousand times – smile, nod, slide into the version of myself that makes other people feel comfortable and me feel safe.It would be so easy to say yes, to follow the script.
But I’mtired.Tired of pretending I don’t know what I want.Tired of being agreeable when I’m quietly falling apart.
So, I tell the truth.
‘I think,’ I say carefully, ‘you deserve someone who’s not actively battling with her demons.’
