This Book Made Me Think of You(76)

“Tilly!”

Harper is immediately at her side, grabbing on to her shoulders to stop her from hitting the ground. “Let’s get you off the path.” Together they shuffle away from the flow of runners. Every movement brings a fresh surge of pain up Tilly’s leg, tears stinging her eyes. They sit down on the sodden grass, Tilly stretching her legs out in front of her.

“Where does it hurt most?” Harper asks, inspecting Tilly’s hands and carefully picking bits of grit out of her grazed palms.

“My ankle.” She reaches a hand to gently touch it. It sears with pain. “I think I’ve twisted it.”

“Oh shit.” Harper looks around. “Stay here and I’ll try and find a medic. I’m sure there’ll be one nearby.”

Harper goes as if to stand, but Tilly grabs hold of her arm.

“No, please don’t. They’ll probably tell me to stop.”

“But, Tils, you can’t keep going! You’ve hurt yourself. We need to get you looked at.”

Water soaks from the grass through Tilly’s leggings. There’s mud covering her trainers and splashed up her calves. She wraps her arms around her chest, goose bumps beginning to prick up and down her arms now that she’s not moving.

“I was so close. I promised myself I’d do this for Joe.”

Harper shifts closer, their hips and shoulders bumping.

“You know Joe wouldn’t mind if you didn’t finish. He’d just be so proud of you for trying.”

Tilly wipes the back of her hand over her damp, snotty face.

“I know you’re probably right. But this felt like one last thing I could do for him. And I wanted to do it for myself too.” Because at first it had been about Joe, but the more she trained, the more she found she actually liked running. Not all the time, but she liked the feel of the wind in her face, of moving herself forward all by herself. And she liked the feeling of getting stronger, as though maybe she could handle everything that lay ahead of her after all.

Harper takes a breath. “Do you think you can put any weight on it?”

She tries and winces as another stab of pain shoots up her leg.

“Give me your arm,” Harper says, reaching out for her. But Tilly brushes her off.

“I can do it myself…” But as she tries another step, she lets out a yelp.

Tilly looks at her sister, her face creased with a frown, her little stubby pigtails soaked from the rain. She is paused beside her, a hand outstretched in case Tilly needs it. Tilly takes a breath, then grabs hold of her hand.

“Maybe I do need some help, actually.”

Without saying anything, Harper loops Tilly’s arm around her shoulder, wrapping her other around her waist. “Come on then, let’s finish this race.”

They take a step together, Tilly’s ankle still throbbing but less now that she isn’t putting her full weight on it.

“It’s no good. I don’t think I can run.”

“No one said we had to run. We’re not far off now, we can walk the last bit. You’ll still be finishing a half-marathon.”

Together, they take a step. Then another. As they join the other runners again, there’s a rousing cheer from the supporters lining the path.

“You smell like a wet dog,” says Harper through pursed lips.

“So do you.”

“Next time I run a half-marathon, I’m doing it in spring.”

“Next time?”

“No, you’re right. I’m never doing this again. Only a lunatic would run this far unless they were being chased by a bear.”

The roar of the spectators grows louder as they drag themselves toward the finish. They are both silent for a moment, their faces lined with the effort of keeping moving.

“Thank you,” Tilly says once they’ve been hobbling along for a while. “I really couldn’t do this without you.”

“You’re welcome.” There’s a moment’s pause and then: “And, Tilly, I really am so sorry. For everything. I probably should have said that ages ago. I never should have kept my engagement from you, and I definitely shouldn’t have set up the dating profile.” Harper’s voice is strained, not just with the exhaustion of carrying Tilly’s weight. “I was an idiot. It’s just that you’ve been so sad, and I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to try and make it better, but I realize I only made things worse. I’ve done everything wrong.” Harper’s voice cracks.

Tilly places her foot down a little too heavily and winces as pain shoots up her left ankle. Harper pauses, waiting until Tilly is ready to keep going. Something inside her softens. Now that Harper’s here at her side, it hits her just how much she’s missed her.

“You haven’t done everything wrong,” she says. “You came to Bali with me and took me to Tuscany. You agreed to do this run. And I’m sorry too.”

“What do you have to be sorry for?” replies Harper with a strained laugh. Tilly winces at another jolt of pain and a thought she’s tried to push from her mind.

“When I thought that you and Raj had broken up…part of me was pleased. I love Raj. I’ve always thought he’s great for you. But I was…almost glad that you were going through heartbreak too. I was pleased that I’d get to look after you instead of you having to look after me. What kind of sister does that make me?”