29. Chapter 29
Chapter 29
“ Y ou can do this, Vivi. It’s not like this is your first half!” I said to the mirror as I dressed and went through my usual pre-race prep on Saturday morning.
I was no stranger to race day jitters, and this time was no different. Except that it was. I usually had Jack to calm me down, make me laugh, make the long miles tolerable, but today, I was unsure if I’d even see Jack or if he would want to run with me. Did I even want to run with him ? As I finished getting ready, my thoughts swirled as race day nerves mingled with unsettling feelings about my best friend.
After parking my car at the sprawling city park where the race would start and finish, I headed to the race registration tables along with the crowds of other runners. My brow wrinkled when I realized I might not see Jack even if I wanted to; it was a large turnout. I had never run a race by myself before, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Lillian had offered to run with me, because of course she was in great shape and could run a race on a dime, but I had thanked her and declined. After our emotional phone call, my sister had kept her word and called me the very next day, after her monstrous hangover waned. We were truly getting to know each other, finally, and I found myself smiling whenever my sister’s name lit up my phone screen. But I didn’t need Lillian to run a race with me; she had enough on her plate already.
While in line for my race bib, I looked around at my fellow runners and felt my lips curve into a smile as I soaked up the energy around me. I’d always loved the race atmosphere, with runners of all ages, sizes, backgrounds, ability levels, and so on. And as always, their racing clothing showed a colorful variety of personalities on display. The air was cool but not cold, and the sun was rising in a mostly cloudless sky.
“Viv, is that you?”
I turned toward the nearby voice, and before me stood Rainn, one of Annie’s roommates.
Happy to see a familiar face, I chatted with Rainn while we waited in line. With anyone else, it would’ve been awkward, given my split with Annie, but Rainn was probably the most easygoing man I’d ever met. I just crossed my fingers that he wouldn’t bring up Annie or our fight. And even if he did, it wouldn’t be nearly as awkward as actually having to talk to Jack alone. Here. For hours.
Regrettably, running with Rainn today wasn’t an option. He was very fast, and I definitely wasn’t. I wasn’t quite a back-of-the-pack runner anymore, but I was nowhere near the front either.
When it was time to head to the start line, I wished Rainn good luck and then started toward my usual spot in the queue, just a bit behind the middle. I looked around for Jack surreptitiously.
The crowd was thick, and he was nowhere in sight. I wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed, but disappointment seemed to be winning the day. As the start time edged closer, I swallowed a lump in my throat.
Dammit, Jack .
I was sad he wasn’t there— sad that circumstances had jeopardized our friendship. Circumstances that were mainly my fault. Maybe all my fault. Sighing heavily, I checked to make sure my water bottle carrier was secure around my waist. I usually just made Jack wear it, as I didn’t like the extra bulk. Most runners seemed to rely on the water stations in a race, but I preferred the convenience of sipping whenever I liked.
The race announcer saved me from further stewing in my feelings. The race gun sounded, and we all took off, slowly at first given how tightly packed together we were, and then too fast, as usual.
Only two minutes in, I startled when I heard a voice more familiar than my own.
“Vivi!” Jack ran up beside me, his blue eyes revealing uncertainty.
“Jack,” I said, already breathing hard. “Hello. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you.”
“I started a bit further back,” he said.
“Ah,” I said, sneaking a quick glance at him and then looking forward while we passed a runner who was already slowing down.
We settled into an awkward silence for the rest of the first mile, and then we both began to speak at the same time. And again. And a third time.
He closed his mouth and looked at me with a wry grin. “You go.”
“No, go ahead.” I tried to smile, but it felt strained. I kept my gaze focused on the flat path and the trio of middle-aged runners just ahead of us.
When I snuck another glance at him, he was looking at me solemnly. After a moment though, his lips curved into a familiar smile. “It’s nice to see you here.”
That wasn’t what I expected to hear. Instead of putting me at ease, his smile seemed jarring or somehow unsettling, perhaps because I hadn’t expected it. I tried to smile back but found it difficult to look at him. Maybe because I was racing and needed to focus on my form. Yes, that must be it. I winced at the weak rationale.
“You too,” I said.
We ran for another minute without speaking.
Suddenly I couldn’t stand it. “You don’t have to run with me, Jack. I’m sure you can go faster than this. I always hold you back.” And probably not just from running , I added to myself.
Gazing at me, he wrinkled his brow and spoke slowly and carefully. “Vivi, I know I don’t have to. I’ve never had to.”
I had no idea what to say, so I changed the subject. The weather would be a safe topic. For a few minutes, we discussed the slightly cooler but still comfortable weather in the past few days.
“I agree. The conditions are nearly ideal for racing,” he said.
“I would’ve preferred a little breeze too, but hey, you can’t have everything you want.” It was an odd thing to say, but I couldn’t pinpoint why.
“This is as close to perfect as we’re going to have,” he acknowledged, his tone light. He looked at me briefly then, and my eyes darted away.
What was wrong with me?
It’s just Jack. Yes, something weird happened, but it’s done. So done. It was almost two weeks ago. Don’t need to make his every comment into something weird.
We ran alongside one another mostly in quiet, with an occasional comment about the running or the other runners or the scenery along the race route. At one point, he asked if I’d heard any updates on my parents’ big travel plans for the following year, and I simply said no. It’s not that I wasn’t thrilled for my parents, but I was embarrassed about how hostile I’d acted and didn’t want to be reminded of that.
At the halfway point, Jack turned to offer a blinding smile. “Aaand we’re halfway there. Walk break?”
I nodded and instinctively shifted my eyes elsewhere. Something about his smile just then … it unnerved me. Had he always been this … this hot? Feeling guilty for averting my eyes so abruptly, I turned back to him as we slowed to a walk. He was frowning slightly and staring at the ground.
He was hurt.
I wanted to kick myself. I was being weird, and my behavior was probably hurting him. Should I say anything? Should I try to explain? Yet I couldn’t fathom what I would say. An apologetic smile would have to do. If he ever looked back to see it.
We walked quietly for a minute as we gulped down water.
When he finally looked at me again, his face was unreadable. His voice sounded strained. “Vivi, let’s just get this over with.”
I blinked in surprise at his bluntness. “Ah, yes, let’s start running again—and faster,” I said while speeding up as much as my tired legs would allow at that point.
He sped up to match my pace, and his hand grazed my arm. “Hey. That’s not what I meant.”
“Oh.” I stole a quick glance at him. At the brief contact on my arm, I felt a peculiar shiver, despite being warm and sweaty from running.
“We can run faster, but we still have six miles to go and some change,” Jack said. “Let’s just clear the air.”
“You don’t … We don’t need to—to do that.” Conversation was becoming more difficult because we’d sped up so much and because, well, panic. The last thing I wanted was more apologies and more … pity. As though kissing me was such an awful thing that a person had to apologize multiple times.
“I think we do.”
I braced myself for a potentially mortifying conversation. “That day was … It was such a terrible day for me. It’s not necessary to dredge up everything again.”
He grimaced. “I know it was terrible for you, Vivi. And I wasn’t responsible for your day being terrible, but my actions certainly didn’t make things better. Let’s just talk about it.”
I looked straight ahead.
I just wanted to run. Not talk.
Keep putting one foot in front of the other.
But he wasn’t giving up, and he seemed so darn sincere . We still had an hour or so of running left, maybe more as I could feel our pace slowing again. Finally, I mumbled my assent.
After looking far off into the distance for a long moment, beyond the sprawling forest on our left, Jack cleared his throat. “Vivi, I don’t have a good explanation for my actions. I am sorry that I can’t really justify …” He paused then and looked at me with piercing eyes. “But I’m just sorry, period. I hope you know that I would never intentionally jeopardize our friendship, which means—which has always meant—a great deal to me. You mean a great deal.”
“I know that,” I said quietly, wincing at every word of regret that passed his lips. “I know you were only trying to help, trying to make me feel better. You don’t need to apologize for that.”
He frowned, casting a quick glance at me. “Well, I’m not … That’s not exactly what I meant, Vivi.”
“I know what you meant, Jack,” I managed to say, trying to swallow my shame before the tears started. “I get it. I was miserable. You took pity on me. You wanted me to feel … wanted, perhaps. It’s more than a friend would usually do, but you have always been the best kind of friend. I can’t—”
“Vivi, it wasn’t pity!” he snapped. When his outburst drew glances from the pair of young runners nearby, he took a slow breath, and his tone softened. “It was … that is, I just—”
“Jack, you don’t have to put a name to it. Like I said, I get it. No need to explain further. Your explaining is … not helping. Let’s just run. We’re going slower again, I noticed.” Please, please don’t “explain” anymore , I pleaded silently, biting my lip.
“But you don’t understand. I don’t think I’m explaining myself at all,” he said, regret sketched onto his face. “What I mean is—”
“Seriously, Jack. Please don’t make this any more painful than it already is. You can’t imagine the mortification I felt that day, for so many different reasons. I’m trying to turn things around. Trying to move on. Trying to be my own best friend.”
Perceiving a flash of hurt in his expression, I quickly added, “I mean, you are still my best friend. I hope so anyway. I’m just trying to take better care of myself these days.”
He didn’t respond for a minute. “I’m glad to hear that,” he finally said, sounding resigned. “You know I just want you to be happy. And of course I’ll always be there for you, Vivi. Never doubt that.”
I offered him a shy smile, one filled with hope, for the first time that day. “Thank you. I really meant what I said, that you have always been there. And it means … everything.”
His expression was hard to read, but his eyes hinted at sadness even while his lips curved up into a smile.
“Speaking of taking care of myself, I guess you can be the first to know. I’m quitting Bolder. I haven’t told them yet—they think I’m just taking a break. But I can’t work for that jerk Brandon anymore.” I shook my head in emphasis. “I’ve been busy looking for new opportunities.”
His eyes widened. “Wow. Vivi, good for you! I don’t blame you for wanting to cut ties with that place. You can do so much better. Do you have any leads so far?”
“I do, actually. And I’ve had nothing but time, so I’ve made many inquiries and sent out quite a few resumes. I even have a couple of interviews already next week. I hope I can count on you as a reference.”
“Of course. As if you need to ask,” he said, a bit indignantly. “That’s so great to hear.”
After half a mile of running in silence except for a couple chatting loudly behind us, he asked if I wanted to take a short walk break. After finishing off a water bottle, he asked, “Are we OK? I still feel like maybe I bungled our talk earlier, so maybe we should start over—”
“Jack,” I said firmly. “Please. Can we just let it go? It was just … just a kiss.” Why was it so hard to even say the word? “It happened, and we’re adults. I’d desperately like to believe that this incident doesn’t have to change anything between us.” After another moment, I added, “I … I can’t lose you as my best friend.”
Looking at me intently, he opened and then closed his mouth, which I found myself staring at as we walked side by side. When he finally spoke, I heard the quiet resolve in his voice. “Of course you won’t lose me. Vivi, you are … I’ll drop it, if you’d like.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Jack. Now let’s pick up the pace again. We’re only two miles from the finish line.”
He looked ahead, matching my accelerating pace.
We ran in comfortable silence—well, relatively comfortable and relatively silent. Every now and then we’d pass (or be passed by) a pair of chatty runners. I was glad for the distraction. I couldn’t claim that things felt completely normal between us, but it felt a bit less strained. Our talk had been painful to endure, but it could’ve been worse.
Besides, at that point in the race, it was becoming hard to feel anything other than tired legs. It was one of my favorite things about distance running.
Finally, we passed the 13-mile mark. I always found a reserve of energy for the last bit of a race, and today was no different. Jack and I glanced at each other at the same time, smiling as we pumped our arms harder and lengthened our strides.
After we crossed the finish line and received our medals, we took a few minutes to catch our breath. After swallowing the last of my water, I looked around for the snacks and drinks and pointed when I located them.
Before making our way over to the tables though, I found myself swinging my arms out and pulling him into a hug. I noted his surprise, his warm, damp skin and shirt, and his … well, it would be weird to say that I noticed his firm body. But I did. I knew Jack was considered attractive, with good looks, a friendly smile, and a trim but strong runner’s body. But I hadn’t noticed it quite this way before, various parts of my body tingling at the contact. I stumbled back in alarm.
What the heck is wrong with me?
I hoped he didn’t sense my awkwardness. Before he could speak, I blurted, “Sorry, I’m so far beyond sweaty and gross right now. But I missed my Jack hugs.”
A gaze I didn’t recognize passed over his face before his mouth curved into a familiar grin. “I’m pretty sure I’m sweatier than you. I am a man, after all.”
You certainly are , I caught myself thinking, and I groaned inwardly. We turned to head toward the refueling table. I was probably just tired and not thinking straight, right? Stealing a quick glance at Jack, I didn’t detect any tension, or at least no more than before. Hopefully he hadn’t noticed anything amiss with me. What was going on with me? I shook my head, reminding myself again that I was exhausted and dehydrated and hungry—that was all.
After a glorious nap and a long bubble bath, I limped to the couch and decided to order in. Jack and I often had a post-race dinner together, but he hadn’t mentioned it, and I decided not to either. Clearing the air with him had been nice, but there remained some lingering awkwardness that I didn’t feel like facing, at least not tonight.
Pizza delivery and a straight-up comedy, sans romance, were exactly what I needed tonight. And maybe some wine. Definitely, not maybe. I should do an ice bath for my poor battered legs, but I decided to skip that harrowing post-race ritual in favor of some ice packs on the couch.
As I waited for the food to arrive, my feet elevated on pillows, my thoughts kept returning to my interactions with Jack today. Had I given off a weird vibe? I certainly felt weird, but was it a self-perceived weird or the type of weird that anyone could see? Of course, Jack wasn’t just anyone.
He’s my closest friend.
Yes , my friend.
Could we ever return to normal? If so, how? I really needed my best friend back.
More than anything, I needed to move on from all this. I sensed that I’d hurt him more than once today, but he’d seemed much closer to normal by the time we finished the race.
Sending a friendly text could help to further clear the air. At least it couldn’t hurt, probably. Maybe.
Viviana
Hey Jack, good race today. Thanks for being my friend through everything. I value our friendship so much.
Jack
I feel the same, Vivi.
Viviana
Share some greasy pizza delivery and a non-Austen movie?
I bit my lip after sending that last message, unsure of whether the spontaneous invitation was a good idea. Ten minutes later, he still hadn’t responded, and I began to regret asking. Was he thinking of how to let me down easily? Was he worried I’d have another breakdown? Was he celebrating the race finish with someone else?
Most importantly, why was I overthinking this?
The delivery guy arrived then, so I vowed to forget about Jack tonight and enjoy my dinner and movie night. Soon I was laughing with Paul Rudd and Jason Segal, and the embarrassingly unanswered invitation was forgotten for a while.
When my phone buzzed, I paused the movie and frowned.
Jack
So sorry, Vivi. I had to go to a work dinner thing at Lambrusco’s.
Viviana
It’s fine, Jack. Lambrusco’s is amazing. Enjoy your night.
Jack
Honestly, I would’ve rather done pizza with you.
I sighed, placing my phone back on the coffee table. He was always trying to make me feel better about myself, even when it bordered on ridiculous. I wondered how things were going with Irene. Obviously there was something still going on. In all the years I’d known him, no other boss or colleague had ever demanded his time at work lunches and dinners so often even on weekends. I didn’t understand the appeal of Irene, honestly, but Jack must see something in her. Was she his type? I didn’t really know what his type was. I’d briefly met a few of his dates over the years, but not many. He kept his love life very private and, I presumed, casual. I couldn’t remember the last person he’d dated or even brought home, though of course I wasn’t privy to everything in his personal life. I groaned, thinking again of Irene.
Why did this bother me? I let out a frustrated sigh. I wasn’t jealous; I couldn’t be jealous. His relationship with his boss just bothered me because I didn’t understand it. And because it had obviously driven a wedge between us. And because Irene was just, well, not good enough for him. Or maybe for anyone. The woman wasn’t likable at all, from what I could see. These were all good reasons to be unhappy with the Irene situation. Nothing to do with jealousy. I was just looking out for my best friend , just like Paul and Jason do, I insisted as I pressed Play to resume watching the movie.