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

40. Adam

If I thought the drive to Utah was long, it’s nothing compared to the drive back. Cold and emptiness surround me as I pull into my driveway two days later. I sit in my car and look up at my house. The one I want to share with Paige. My heart lurches thinking of her never stepping foot here again.

I don’t think I’d be able to stay here if she doesn’t come back. The house that holds so much potential for my future—my future with her—seems too big.

I call Mateo so I don’t have to be alone.

“What’s up, man? You back?”

“Yeah, just pulled in.”

“I’ll be over in thirty with pizza.”

True to his word, Mateo soon arrives with pizza and beer. When I raise my brows at the six-pack in his hand, he shrugs.

“You sounded like shit on the phone so I figured we may need a little extra help.”

I can’t argue there.

“So?” Mateo prompts a little while later. The pizzas are demolished and I’m on my third beer.

My head hangs in my hands. “I think I’m moving to Utah.”

“What?”

I tell him as much as I can without breaking Paige’s confidence, but the real key to the story is that damn text.

“She texted the wrong number?” Mateo’s face looks exactly how I felt when I realized what had happened.

“Yup. So all this time I thought she hated me and she thought I didn’t text her back.”

“Rough.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

“Tell me about it.”

“And she can’t leave her sister behind.” It’s not a question.

“Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not smart,” I say, pointing a finger at him.

He scoffs. “Does that mean I have to move to Utah too?”

“What? No!”

“So you’re going to leave me behind while you ride off into the sunset with your dream woman?”

“Do you want to move to Utah?”

He looks at me like he thinks I’m crazy. “Hell no, and neither do you.”

“No, I don’t, but I’m not going to live without her again.”

Mateo hesitates, bringing the beer to his lips as if weighing what he wants to say.

“Just say it,” I tell him, rubbing my hand down my face, my scruff scratching my calloused palms .

“Does she know that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does she know you’re planning to move to Utah?”

“No. I don’t even know if she wants me to.”

Mateo throws his hands in the air. “Did you not learn your lesson? You’re an idiot! You have to actually talk to her about this.”

“I was thinking of making a big romantic gesture.” The idea—showing up at Leah’s house with my stuff packed in Paige’s Jeep, and Q jumping out to greet her—starts to look less and less appealing the more I talk to Mateo.

“You’re an idiot, Adam.”

I know what he means. I feel like an idiot. I whip my phone out to text Paige. Back in Utah, while she was in the shower, I took her phone and plugged in her password. Like a proper stalker, I put her number in my phone and updated my contact with my real number in hers.

“What are you doing?” Mateo asks, mouth full of pizza that’s long cold now.

“I’m texting her.”

He grabs my phone before I can stop him. “You’re such a lightweight, you’re too buzzed to text her properly.”

I scoff. But I also can’t argue because my head is spinning. Mateo and I talk deep into the night and then he helps me into bed. It’s too big. All I want is that crappy hotel room with the tiny bed. All I want is Paige draped over me.

In the morning, I have no idea what to do about my job. I’m on contract, so it’ll be a little harder than just picking up and leaving. I hate that Mateo is right. There’s one thing I can do, though.

I text Paige, the name I gave her in my phone pulling at my heartstrings.

Future Wife

Tuesday 7:42 a.m.

hey, just checking in, how are you?

I send it without overthinking and then stare at my phone, watching the minutes go by as I wait for her response. The image of her texting me after the ultra and waiting just like this, anticipation roaring in her ears, turns my stomach sour.

She must have been glued to her phone if she felt half of what I’m feeling right now.

I don’t have to wait long before three dots appear and my heart leaps. The dots disappear and reappear over and over again. I smile. She’s overthinking her response.

I can see that you’re typing

(Middle finger emoji)

How did you get the password to my phone?

She must have seen the name change.

you should really be more careful. I don’t want other stalkers to be able to lean over your shoulder as you type your passcode

I watched you do it like a million times during the race

Asshole

rude

are you okay? How’s Leah?

Leah’s good. She’s home now and being an absolute pain in my ass

Home.

I’m glad she’s doing okay

She wants me to tell you thank you for your help

it was my pleasure

how are you?

I’m okay. I finally read my emails from Maxim. He basically told me to get my ass back or I’m fired

At least he didn’t outright fire her. Still, Maxim is such an asshole. And a creep. I heard he made Paige and Connor massage him, twice, to make sure they were good at their jobs. Someone should do something about him. He can’t threaten my woman’s job and get away with it.

asshole. What are you going to do?

I don’t know

My heart sinks. Though I knew she wouldn’t be sure yet, it hurts.

you know, I was looking around and there are plenty of physiotherapy jobs in Salt Lake ...

There’s a really long pause. Too long. So long I have time to make myself some breakfast of eggs, hash browns, and bacon. I sit there, stomach churning, unable to eat while I wait.

You would move here?

Give up coaching the Whales?

is that what you want?

Is that what you want?

I asked you first

I don’t want you to uproot your life for me. You love Vancouver, you love your job

I let that hang in the air. I do love Vancouver. But at the risk of sounding like Mateo’s dating profile—like a complete cliché—I love her more.

I can get used to the heat

I can’t let you do that

why not?

Minutes go by without an answer. My question hangs there like she’s testing me. Actually, I have no idea what she’s thinking. I need to stop assuming I know what the long silences mean. She might need to think about it, and I can respect that.

Did I just do it again? Should I text her? I hate this. I want to be able to touch her and talk to her face to face.

please talk to me when you’re ready

I will