“One mile at a time.”
For once, Dani did not make fun of the plan.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Better Together
Dani
The medical tent ruined the romantic ending. This was appropriate. Amy became nauseated seven minutes after the finish. I developed a cramp while attempting to remove my shoe. Rose directed both of us onto separate cots and refused to allow emotional conversations until we had consumed fluids and salt.
“Love is not an electrolyte,” she said.
“Unconfirmed,” I replied.
She gave me a packet of pretzels. Amy lay three feet away beneath a foil blanket. Her eyes were closed.
“Are you awake?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you still love me?”
Rose pointed at me.
“No emotional testing.”
“I am gathering data.”
Amy opened her eyes.
“I love you.”
My next breath came easily. Then she continued.
“I remain angry.”
“Also fair.”
“I am not making a relationship decision in a medical tent.”
“Rose has killed romance.”
“Good,” Rose said.
Amy smiled. The sight felt like grace I had not earned and could still receive without treating it as absolution. We rested. Our families waited outside. The finish medals lay against our chests. Mine felt heavier than the paper bib had. Not because it proved anything. Because it did not. The medal recorded a completion. It did not record panic.
Lying. Therapy. Walking. Love. The object was smaller than the story. That was healthy.
We left the medical tent after forty minutes. Lola reached us first, crashed into my waist, then remembered my legs and converted the impact into a careful hug. Gloria held me long enough to say everything before she finally whispered, “Mom would be proud.” My control over tears had not survived the finish.
Amy’s parents surrounded her. Tessa hugged us separately and refused to repeat what she had said to me at mile twenty-five.
Blake approached without a camera, holding two envelopes. “The post-challenge review is complete.”
“We were disqualified,” Amy said.
“That decision stands. Marisol and Jen won the challenge.”
