Page 69 of Get Me to the Starting Line
Julien stays behind me, and I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he feel it too?
No, I can’t do this. I can’t let someone into my life who might not be permanent. I can’t know for sure he’ll stick around. They never do.
Except that stupid voice in the back of my head, the one that won’t let me give up or stop running even though I’m absolutely dying, tells me Julien is not the kind of guy that does casual. He’s serious.
He’s not a boyfriend.
He’s a husband.
And I’m not a wife.
Panic floods me and my heart skyrockets. I’ve been engaged before. Am I married now? No. Because nobody in life is permanent. People die, people move, people leave. And I can’t do that to Levi.
I can’t let him fall in love with a man who I know would make an incredible father, only for him to leave us. To leave me. With each of these thoughts, I recognize the old ache of loneliness, the ache of not being good enough. Something feels stuck in my throat as I try to swallow down the feelings.
“Leah,” Julien’s rough voice calls from behind me, his heavy breathing evident. “That’s 5k, you did it.”
I turn to face him—he’s farther back than I thought. Even with how chaotic my thoughts were a few seconds ago, everything melts away with the realization. I don’t overthink it as I throw myself into his waiting arms.
Safe arms.
“I did it?” I whisper into his damp shirt.
“You did,mon rêve, you did.” He holds me tight as sobs wrack my body.
Why am I crying so hard? It’s not like I’m the first person to ever run a 5k without stopping. Runners around the world can do three miles in their sleep. I know because I’ve seen Paige do it during ultramarathons.
I’ll have to run a half marathon in six months, and this is nothing compared to how hard that’s going to be.
Except two months ago I could barely run a minute without stopping. I would have listened to that voice in my head that told me to stop. But I didn’t stop. I ran five freaking kilometres without stopping.
And I’m starting to get behind the use of kilometres. Five sounds better than three.
The adrenaline comes crashing down on me in a big wave of emotion, relief, pain, and exhaustion, and that lingering feeling won’t go away, even as I step out of Julien’s embrace. He drops his arms to his sides like he doesn’t know what else to do.
I ran five kilometres.
Thecrowdissoloud tonight, I’m grateful I brought headphones for Levi. This is the most animated he’s ever been with so many people around. It’s been a struggle to keep them on him all night, but I have him distracted. Or rather, the fast-paced game playing out in front of us has him occupied. I swear, this almost-two-year-old knows what’s going on more than I do.
Not that I care. If I’m not helping Levi with something or playing with him, my eyes are glued to the wall of a goalie in the net. I texted him to tell him I was bringing Levi to their game tonight after Paige arranged for us to go again.
Big surprise, I received a one-word answer.
Julien
Jerseys
Jerseys, plural. I didn’t think it warranted a response. Let him pace around, brooding about whether or not I’ll wear it. I feltevil in the best way. And it may or may not have (but definitely did) cross my mind to not wear them to see how he’d react.
Of course we wore them. And I think I’ve taken a hundred pictures of Levi in his. Paige eyed me suspiciously when I came out wearing the dress-like jersey, jeans, and my Doc Martens. She didn’t comment because she was too busy obsessing over her cute nephew. Can’t argue there. She’s taken at least as many photos of me and Levi as she has the three of us.
Ihadfelt a little out of place at the first game, not sure if I belonged—hockey has never been my thing. Paige is the sporty one and I’m the brainiac. That’s how it’s always been.
But I’m a runner now, apparently, so I’ve got the brains and the brawn. And hockey may not be my thing, but apparently goalies are. Well, one goalie.
I hate to admit it, but Julien was right. Not wearing any team colours last time was a bad move on my part. Swimming in his jersey, in the woodsy, masculine scent of him, I feel at home at the rink. I think Levi thinks the same thing since he didn’t even try to take his off when I put it on him.
“Do you see the puck?” I ask as his eyes dart around the arena.
