See You at the Finish Line (Run, Love, Repeat #1)

32. Adam

Paige is catatonic in the seat beside me. She keeps muttering under her breath, “Not again, not again,” over and over. I don’t think she’s aware of it.

I have to get her home so she can check her phone. Shay said something about Paige leaving it there so she would feel safe, and I don’t know what that means. It’s driving me crazy.

It’s a struggle to keep my eyes on the road and not watch Paige’s every move to ensure she’s okay. She really starts to worry me when she begins hyperventilating.

“Paige.” I begin to pull over because I can’t do anything to help her while I’m driving.

Her eyes widen in fear. “Don’t stop,” she practically shrieks.

“Okay, I won’t, but you have to look at me.” I glance at her quickly to make sure she’s listening. Her glassy eyes meet mine.

“Name three things you see right now,” I instruct, giving her as much attention as I can. The last thing we need is us getting into an accident.

“Um . . . I see people . . .”

“More specific.”

“There’s a woman with a red hat walking a dog.” Her voice is still so shaky.

“Good, what else?”

“A black squirrel. And a fire hydrant.” She squeezes her eyes shut like she can’t bear to look anymore.

“Good, now tell me three things you hear.”

Her eyes stay shut but she answers me. Slowly, but at least she answers.

“The fan in the car. The tires moving over the road. My heart.”

“You can hear your heart?”

“It’s so loud,” she whispers as my own heart thuds along with hers.

“That’s okay. Now we’re going to move three different parts of our bodies.”

When she doesn’t respond, I sneak another glance. Her eyes are still shut tightly and her head rests on the seat. “Nod if you can do that for me.”

When she nods she asks in a wobbly voice, “Does that count as one movement?”

Relief floods me at her joke and blood comes back to my fingers as I loosen my grip on the steering wheel one at a time.

“Yeah,” I say with a breathy chuckle, “that can count as one. Now wiggle your fingers for me.”

This time she does it without any hesitation and breathing comes a little easier. For both of us .

“Perfect, look at you, taking directions so well,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.

That earns me a middle finger, and I’ve never felt so honoured to be on the receiving end of that gesture.

“Alright, lastly, I want you to alternate tapping your hands on your knees. Left, right, left, right. Focus on that.”

She does the exercise, and I can feel the tension seeping out of her body with each tap, like she’s done this before. I let her settle into that movement, hoping the worst of her panic has eased, hoping I was able to help when I feel so utterly useless right now.

We make it to her apartment complex without any more attacks and get lucky when someone exits the building so we can get in. She’s able to walk, but I keep my arm around her in case she collapses again. Her body vibrates with emotion, her hands shaking as she inserts the key into her door.

Q whines from the crate in the living room and that seems to snap Paige out of her trance.

“Unlock the crate. I’m going to get my phone,” she says, voice weak. She disappears into her room, coming out a moment later, her phone slowly dragging to life.

“I keep it turned off while I’m running so I can’t be interrupted,” she whispers. It takes a second after it wakes up to start pinging with notifications. Twenty missed calls and a series of texts blink through and she stares at the screen, not opening them.

“Do you want me to—”

She hands me the phone and I open her voicemail.

“5478,” she says before I can ask her for the code. I plunk it in and put the message on speaker.

A male voice with a slight accent booms through the speaker.

“Paige, I hope you get this soon. You need to come as quickly as you can. Leah was in a car accident,” the voice says without emotion. No other information. The tempo of Paige’s breathing increases as we listen to the next one.

“She got hit by a drunk driver. She and Levi are in an ambulance, I’m on the way to the hospital in Salt Lake.” Paige collapses on the couch, her legs unable to hold her up any longer.

My stomach drops with the news. I sit beside her, the couch dipping with my weight, and pull her close. She leans in and lightly rests her arm on mine like she needs to feel grounded.

The next message plays. “Levi is okay, just a little bumped around. His car seat took the brunt of it.” My stomach bottoms out. Levi must be Leah’s baby, Paige’s nephew.

“Why aren’t you picking up your phone? It’s been going straight to voicemail for two hours!”

“Leah’s going into surgery. Get here now.”

A sob rips from Paige’s throat, and I move to kneel in front of her, letting her collapse into me as she falls forward.

That was the last message.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll get you home. It’s going to be okay.”

At the word home, she snaps her head up and stands, her eyes frantic.

“I have to get home,” she says .

“Then let’s get you home. Pack and change, and I’ll look up flights.”

She nods and races to her room, phone already on her ear as she tries to get more information. Q follows so closely I’m surprised they don’t trip over each other.

I hear the frantic scrape of drawers opening and closing and some minor cursing as things crash around. I assume she’s bumping into everything in her hurry, but I can’t find it amusing at the moment.

I search for flights on my phone, scrolling to find the fastest option.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath.

The only flight available today doesn’t leave until 8:55 p.m., but with the layover it doesn’t arrive until noon the next day. Even with the other flights, the earliest we can get there is four in the morning, tomorrow.

Paige whirls out of her room in sweatpants and a tank top, bag slung over her shoulder. Her tattoo peeks out from behind her strap and she rubs it subconsciously.

“Are there any flights?” she asks, desperation evident in her tone.

“None that will get us there today.”

“Fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I’ll have to drive.”

“There is no way I’m letting you drive like this. We’ll take my car. I’ll need to stop at home and grab a few things, but we’ll be on the road in no time. ”

Paige gapes at me. “You can’t be serious. You aren’t driving me!” The hysteria makes her voice shrill. I step into her space and place my hands gently on her arms to hold her steady.

“Your Jeep is back at the race, right? It’ll be faster if I take you and then you can talk to whoever you need to on the way. I’ll have you there quicker than waiting for a flight.”

I see her thinking about it, but I know she doesn’t want to waste any time. This is the best option.

“Fine, but if you take longer than five minutes in your house, I’m stealing your car.”

“Fair enough. Let’s go.”

We’re almost out the door when she stops, slamming into my back. “Oh shit, Q!”

“Call Shay and have her take her,” I say.

“That’s brilliant.”

She calls and arranges to have Shay come over, declining her offer to drive her instead of me. I bristle at the thought, but Paige shuts her down, not wanting to waste any more time.

She kneels to cuddle Q, making promises of treats and walks and swims, giving her kisses and hugs as she says goodbye. I reach down to pet Q as well.

“I’ll take care of her, I promise,” I whisper and Q licks me. I’ll take that as a vote of confidence.

We beeline back out to my car and Paige throws her stuff in the back, getting in the passenger side.

“Where do you live?”

“Outside the city, but don’t worry, it’s on the way.” Mostly .

“Okay, good.”

She’s silent as we drive through the city, cursing as the road closures for the race hamper our ability to get through already crowded streets. We finally make our way out and I drive the familiar winding roads towards my house.

I want her to start talking, but I don’t want to push—we have fifteen hours in the car ahead of us. I sneak glances at Paige as we drive up my street.

Her jaw drops when we pull up in front of my house.

“You live here?” she says with awe in her voice, and it does something to my heart. I didn’t realize how much I wanted her to love it like I do.

“Yeah, I bought the place about six months ago. It still doesn’t feel like home.”

“I would kill to live here.”

“I can arrange that without the crime,” I say under my breath. She hears it anyway and releases a soft chuckle. My heart expands at being able to distract her from pain for a few more moments.

“Do you want to wait in the car or come in?”

“Oh, I’m coming in,” she says. It’s not as big as some of the other houses on the street, but it’s the perfect size for me and the future I want. The future with the hot mess of a woman sitting beside me.

She scrambles out of the car and trips over some sticks. The trees that surround the house are always dropping things on the unpaved driveway. I’ll have to build her a clear walkway.

When we get to the house, she runs her hands over the stone like she can’t believe it’s real unless she feels it with her fingers. I understand the sentiment because that’s how I feel about her. I open the door and let her inside.

“Make yourself at home,” I say before turning to the stairs.

“Five minutes,” she warns. “And thank you. I’m very snoopy.”

Her joke sends a bit of relief through me at seeing life re-enter her eyes. I hit the stairs two at a time and make my way to my bedroom, tossing shirts, pants, and underwear into a bag. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so I make a quick phone call to Mateo.

“I’ve been trying to reach you,” Mateo says, picking up after the first ring.

“I know, I’m sorry. Paige has a family emergency and I’m helping her out,” I tell him, clamping the phone between my shoulder and ear. I only have two more minutes, and I don’t believe for a second Paige was joking about stealing my car.

Like an idiot, I left the keys in the ignition.

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t think so, it’s pretty serious.”

“What do you need from me?”

“Can you call work and tell them Paige and I are taking some personal days? I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“They aren’t going to like that. I don’t think Paige even gets personal days yet.”

“That’s too damn bad. She’s taking them, and her job had better be here when she gets back.” If she comes back. My stomach sours at the thought of her not staying in Vancouver.

“Hey, don’t take it out on me. I’ve got your back, man. Just do what you need to do and I’ll cover for you. ”

“Thanks, Mateo.” I breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Keep me updated as best you can.”

“I will.”

“Thirty seconds!” Paige yells from downstairs.

“I gotta go,” I tell Mateo.

“Good luck.”

We say goodbye and then I’m running down the stairs, but before I even make it halfway, I have to bolt back up to grab my deodorant and toothbrush. Close call. I do not think Paige will be willing to stop along the way.

Downstairs I make a quick detour to the kitchen for food before I go to her. She’s found her way to the back windows and is looking out at the bay.

Her arms fold around herself as she watches the water. She’s so beautiful, though her face is marred with a sadness I can’t quite understand. Placing my bag down, I walk over to stand behind her.

“Do you want a hug?” I ask.

She nods, and I step close so our bodies are flush. I wrap my arms all the way around her, holding her back to my chest while she holds herself together. She’s tense for a moment before sinking into me, her head coming to rest on my collarbone. She fits so perfectly.

I treasure this moment she’s allowing, committing it to memory.

I silently make a vow to do whatever it takes to be able to wrap my arms around her every day. I picture us under better circumstances standing here together, coffee in hand as we watch the sunrise over the bay .

As we watch the moon’s reflection disappear into the light of the morning rays. As our kids beg to go outside before breakfast. I see it and I want it.

I want her.

“Are you ready to go?” I ask, leaning down to whisper so I don’t startle her. She seems at peace, and I don’t want to break the moment, but I also know she wants to get going. She sighs as my breath caresses her neck, and in any other circumstance I’d kiss the soft spot that’s making my mouth water.

Not the right time , I tell my brain and cock.

She nods but makes no move to leave. When I go to unwrap my arms, she turns her body so she’s facing me.

“Wait,” she says into my chest. “Just one more minute.” I retighten my arms, hugging her into me. She’ll never have to ask twice.

Her arms are still wrapped around herself and I hold her to me. My heart pounds in my chest and I hope it’s not distracting for her. I try to calm it down, but it has a mind of its own. For so long I’ve tried to stop myself from loving this woman, and I don’t want to hold it back anymore.

I rest my cheek on the top of her head and breathe her in. She’s still sweaty from the race and I smile. She feels the same as she did when I held her in the desert two years ago. When she sighs again, I know it’s time to let go. I never want to.

“Your deck looks like it was built by toddlers,” she mumbles into my shirt.

I can’t help it. I burst out laughing .

“My brothers and sister will be happy to hear that.”

I feel the weight of sadness creep back over her.

“Are you ready?” I whisper.

“No, but we should go.”

Without overthinking it, I place the lightest kiss on the top of her head and loosen my arms. They feel so empty without her. I look down. She’s staring up at me, fresh tears in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispers so softly I almost don’t hear her. I can see it in her eyes—she’s going to kiss me, and I’m both excited and horrified. I can’t kiss her like this, but I don’t want to reject her. Fuck. She’s leaning in and I don’t think I have the strength to pull away. So I don’t. Who am I to tell her she’s not in the right headspace?

She brushes a soft kiss on my mouth and I’m too shocked it actually happened to reciprocate.

“Thank you,” she says again and then steps out of my embrace, making her way to the front door. I silently follow her.

I’ll follow her for the rest of my life.