Tour De Heart - Chapter 6 [TG Lesbian Romance]

Commissioned Anonymously

Chapter 6

Amelie had never felt happier; the wind was at her back, pushing her along the ride as she rode through the summer heat. The Tour de France Femme was set to start in just a week's time. She and Louis had been in sync, her training was coming along perfectly, she felt at home in her own body, and she had Jean at her side. She was the best cheerleader and girlfriend an athlete could hope for. Thinking about her now made a smile cross her lips but also guilt swirl in her stomach. 

These last few weeks had been amazing; she had finally achieved a balance between training and fun, all thanks to Jean. Life would be great if it weren’t for Amelie’s guilt spoiling it. Jean valued honesty, but Amelie was essentially lying about who she was. Sure, she was Amelie now, but that didn't mean she could deny Ken ever existed. The idea of telling her girlfriend the truth filled her with dread; even if she did believe her, she might be angry that it took so long for Amelie to say anything. It felt like a no-win scenario. Yet the idea of continuing this relationship without saying anything felt wrong, too. 

She sighed, pulled up outside her apartment, and chuckled. Louis’s bike was leaning against the doorframe. 

“You really need to stop waltzing into my house when I’m not home.” She called, pushing open the door.

“It’s a week till the Tour de France Femme! I may as well move in.” Louis replied. “Here.”

He tossed her a drink with a grin; thankfully, the tabloid fiasco was blowing over, and sponsors were flooding back.

“A week? Is it really that close?” Amelie breathed, suddenly nervous.

“Yup! So you better get packing. Is Jean coming with us?”

“Of course, I gave her the ticket the other day at lunch.”

“Wonderful, she’ll make a lovely photo op when you win gold.”

“Yeah…” Amelie was still reeling slightly; logically, she had known how close the event was but having Louis say it aloud made it seem so much more real. 

She excused herself and went to take a shower, stripping off and stepping under the hot stream with a sigh. She couldn't believe it, if the event was so close…she had been Amelie for almost a year. The time seemed to fly—a whole year as an athletic, beautiful French woman. Ken seemed like a far-off, hazy memory now. A small part of her would always mourn the life she’d lost, the same way an adult did childhood. But if given the chance, she didn't want to go back, her life here was too good. 

Still, that guilt lingered. She picked up her phone and stared at the background image. For so long it had been the standard one that the phone came with, it was only a few weeks ago she changed it to a picture of her and Jean on a picnic up in the mountains. They’d ridden up together, Jean panting and yelling at Amelie to slow down. It had been an incredible day, with some incredible sex right there in the middle of a lush meadow. Amelie ran a finger over the screen, stroking Jean’s face. 

“I have to tell her.” She whispered. “I can't win gold with this hanging over my head.”

~

Even after making the decision, Amelie took a few days to build up the courage. She walked into Jean’s shop and breathed deeply, taking in the familiar scent of bike oil and new clothes. The shop was empty. Jean had just bought the sign in and smiled when she saw her. 

“Hey, you, excited? We’ll be heading off in just a few days and when we return, you’ll have a gold medal!”

“Yeah…”

For once, the gold wasn’t foremost in her mind, and Jean seemed to instantly notice.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, sitting down on one of the benches that lined the walls and tapping the place next to her. Amelie sat down with her and took a deep breath. 

“There is something I have to tell you. About me.” She said, forcing the words out before she could lose her nerve. 

Amelie gripped her knees so hard her knuckles turned white; what was she doing? She was going to ruin the best part of her new life! Jean seemed to notice how serious things were because she gently reached forward and pried one of Amelie’s hands away, holding it in her own. 

“Hey…whatever it is, I am sure it’s not as big a deal as you’re making it out to be.” She said quietly. “Just tell me.”

Amelie took a deep breath.

“I used to be a man.” 

The words hung in the air for a moment, and Jean blinked, clearly shocked but unsure how to proceed.

“So…you’re trans?”

“Not exactly.” Amelie bit her lip. “See, a year ago, I came to France to try and get in shape, but I was a man, An American actually, and my name was Ken.”

After that, the whole story flowed out of her; she explained the bike, the new memories, finding the red-headed woman, and even the slow transition she made from a him to her. Jean stayed silent throughout the whole thing, brow furrowed until Amelie had finally finished. 

“So…yeah. That’s about it.” She concluded, swallowing. “I know it sounds crazy but…but it’s the truth.”

Jean looked away momentarily before slowly releasing her grip on Amelie’s hand. 

“If you wanted to break up with me, you could have just said.”

“What, no!”

“Seriously, Amelie, I didn't think you could make up such stupid lies. A magic bike? Really? You know your whole history is on Wikipedia.”

“I’m telling you it’s true, the bike it changed reality!”

Jean laughed bitterly. 

“Sure it did, Amelie. What are you trying to do here exactly?”

“You don't understand-”

“You’re right, I don’t, because I genuinely don’t see what you could possibly get out of making up such an obvious lie!”

“It’s not a lie. Look into my eyes; you can see that I’m telling the truth!”

 Amelie grasped both of Jean’s hands and looked at her pleadingly, but she ripped them away. 

“I think you should go,” Jean said coolly. “I expect an apology and explanation if you want me at the race.”

“Jean-”

“I said go…please.”

She whispered the last word, breaking Amelie’s heart; she sounded so sad and heartbroken. Just like she was, Amelie couldn’t bring herself to speak again. There was a lump in her throat that she couldn’t swallow. So instead she just nodded and walked out, letting the door close softly behind her. She’d fucked it up, the best part of her life. Gone. All because she couldn’t fully let go of her former life as a man. She must have walked home, because the next thing she knew, she was in her doorway with a concerned Louis leading her over to the couch. 

“Amelie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He said. “Come on, darling. Talk to me. Now is not the time for a nervous breakdown!”

“Jean and I are over.” She whispered. “I…I ruined it.”

“Oh, Amelie.” Louis sighed, sitting down and giving her a quick, tight hug. “I know that’s tough and very bad timing. Whatever happened, I am sure it wasn’t all your fault.”

“It really was.”

Louis pressed his lips together. 

“Would you like me to stay tonight? I am sure there is some bad reality show on we can laugh at together.”

Amelie cleared her throat and wiped her eyes. 

“No, let’s go over our strategy for the first day of the tour again.” She said, forcing her sadness down.

If she didn't have Jean, the only thing she had left now was that medal. She was going to win it, no matter what. 

~

Cameras flashed, reporters thrust microphones in her face, and the sound of the crowd at the edge of the road was deafening. It was the first day of the Tour de France Femme, the event she had been training for. Her determination burned white hot, but Amelie couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. Not something, someone. And she knew perfectly well who. She forced herself to smile and talk to the reports without deferring too much to Louis, but really all she wanted was to get on her bike and ride. At least then, she could block out all these distractions. Louis squeezed her shoulder and helped adjust her helmet one final time despite the fact they both knew it was perfect. 

“You’ve got this. Remember, this is just the first day of seven.” Louis whispered. “You’ve got this.”

Amelie was too nervous to reply, so she just gave him a grateful smile before gripping her beloved bike by the handles and heading to the starting point. 

“Good to see you, back to give me another historic victory?”

The voice sent a shiver down her spine and set her blood boiling. After all this time, she was finally face to face with her rival, Kerrie McDonough. She was muscular and tan, with a thick southern US accent. Her hair was tied in a tight bun, and her smile reminded Amelie of a shark. She could see why other people thought she was pretty, but her personality was too poisonous for Amelie to see her as anything but ugly. 

“Kerrie, " she greeted coolly. “You stopped running your mouth long enough to actually do some cycling, I see.”

“That’s rich, considering only one of us has been in the tabloids for getting sloppy drunk this year.”

“That was months ago.”

“So, I’ll make sure that’s all people remember of you by the time this race is done,” Kerrie said haughtily. “I already have one gold, I plan to make it two. Enjoy looking at my fabulous ass as you finish behind me.”

Amelie just set her mouth flat as Kerrie turned to the crowd and beamed, waving with a fake friendly look on her face. Amelie turned back to her bike and gripped the handlebars, calming herself with a few deep breaths. She had this. The best comeback to Kerrie was to win. She scanned the crowd, secretly hoping Jean would be there, but of course, she wasn’t. 

“It’s okay, you can do this without her.” She whispered to herself, but a part of her doubted it. 

A hush fell, and the whistle blew; Amelie’s body reacted on instinct and started pedalling. The group of cyclists surged forward, ready to aim for glory. 

~

Amelie looked at the scoreboard on her phone, three days of racing so far, Kerrie had one the first leg, she the second, Kerrie the third. It almost felt like this race was just between the two of them. The rest of the names and competitors seemed to disappear in a blur. There were four more days to go, and every time they would start from where they finished the day before, Kerrie would be in the lead from the get-go. Amelie hated to admit it, but Kerrie was good. Even with all her training, she wasn’t sure she could beat her. Even Louis’d pep talks couldn’t give her the confidence she needed. 

“Come on.” She groaned. “Get out of your own head!”

She gripped her blonde hair tightly. This was precisely what Kerrie wanted. She was too mentally wrecked to concentrate. A knock at her hotel door was a welcome distraction, even if she really didn't feel like company. 

“I don’t need another pep talk, Louis.” She sighed, opening the door and freezing. 

It wasn’t Louis. It was Jean. All of a sudden, Amelie desperately did want company. 

“Jean…I…Come in.”

She waved her inside and swallowed nervously. 

“I’ve been watching the race,” Jean said quietly. “You’re doing well.”

Amelie’s heart soared.

“But not well enough.”

“Oh.”

“I can see it on the screen. You’re in your own head again.”

Amelie bit her lip and nodded, and Jean sighed.

“I found the red-headed woman.” She said after a moment. “It wasn't easy, I talked to a lot of redheads who had no idea what I was on about. But maybe the word got out. She came to me. That story you told…it’s true. Isn’t it?”

Amelie could only nod. 

“It took me a while to believe it, but once I did…I realised that you’re still you. Amelie. The woman I fell in love with.”

“And I am a woman now.” Amelie breathed. “This, this person is who I am.”

“And that’s who I love.” Jean smiled softly, stepping forward and cupping Amelie’s face. “So why stay away? Why be angry?”

Amelie felt tears burning in her eyes from happiness as their lips came together again. It was soft, tentative. This relationship clearly wasn’t fixed yet, but it was starting to blossom again. 

“Are you going to stay?” Amelie asked when they pulled apart. 

“Absolutely. You owe me a gold medal.”

Amelie laughed breathlessly, of course. With Jean back at her side, things seemed clearer. Kerrie still won another two bouts, but Amelie won her fair share, too. Until the final day of the race came. It all came down to this final stretch, and Amelie was as determined as she was nervous. The whole day seemed to be going in the blink of an eye and before she knew it, the home stretch was approaching. The world around her blurred into a smear of colours. The roar of the crowd became a distant hum, drowned out by the thunderous beating of her heart and the rhythmic whir of her bike’s tyres against the asphalt. She was on the final stretch, it was less than a kilometre to the finish line. 

Her thighs burned, her lungs felt like shards of glass were piercing them with every breath, but she couldn’t stop. Not now. Not with Kerrie so close. Her rival was right there, neck and neck, every bit as fierce and determined. They had fought each other through every climb, every descent, through the rain and the blistering sun. There were other competitors in the final pack as well, but Amelie didn't bother to turn and see. She and Kerrie were pulling ahead, but she was not about to come second to her again. 

The physical strain was unbearable. The temptation to ease up, to let the pain subside, grew with every second. But giving in wasn’t an option. She had come too far, fought too hard. Flashes of memories cut through the haze, Jean. She was waiting at that finish line for her. 

"You’ve got this," Jean had whispered before the race, her eyes full of warmth and belief. "You’ve always had it."

That memory fueled her. Jean’s faith in her was unwavering and pure. Louis, too, would be there waiting for her, and he had worked too hard for her to let him down now. When training days left her exhausted and questioning if she was enough, Jean and Louis reminded her of her strength. 

"Keep going. Just keep going." The words were her anchor now, pushing her beyond the pain.

The last kilometre sign flashed by, and she could see the finish line ahead. The crowd was a wall of sound, screaming names and cheering, but all she could focus on was her own breath, her own heart. She dug deep, deeper than she ever had before. The pain in her legs was unbearable now, but she didn’t care. Jean believed in her. That was all that mattered.

Her body moved like a machine, driven by sheer will. Kerrie was right there, still pushing, still fighting. But she could feel it—a burst of energy, small but powerful, rising from somewhere deep inside her. One she hadn’t been able to conjure last year, before Jean. It was what she needed. She leaned forward, hands tight around the handlebars, and gave everything she had left. Kerrie was falling behind now, just by a fraction, but it was enough. The finish line was right there, seconds away. Her muscles screamed, her vision blurred, but she was doing it. She was winning.

And then it was over. Amelie felt the gentle snap of a ribbon press across her chest and wrap around her torso as she crossed the finish line, and the crowd exploded into deafening cheers. She didn’t hear them. All she could hear was one voice above the crowd calling her name. Jean’s face stuck out from the crowd, dark hair billowing as she jumped in the wind. 

“She cheated! I swear she did!” Kerrie yelled. “Do a blood test, you’ll see!”

Amelie ignored her, it was oddly easy to do for once. Instead, she focused on the people who actually mattered; Jean ran straight into her arms, and Amelie kissed her with all the love she could muster. Louis was there too, hyping up the cameramen and giving statements. Amelie grinned, holding Jean close. She had done it. She’d won. In more ways than one.