Then it became real.
First place.
Olympic record.
Team USA gold.
The entire American section erupted around me.
Noah screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Nathan picked Brooke up while she shrieked in his ear. Ethan was grinning, his hands on his head as if he couldn’t process what he was seeing.
I kept staring at the score.
Gold.
We’d actually done it.
My phone buzzed violently in my pocket, and I dragged it out with shaking hands.
Dad.
I answered immediately. “Hey.”
“Dean William Foster.” His voice was rough with emotion and so fucking full of life that I almost wept to hear it. “What the hell was that?”
“You watched?” I croaked.
“Watched?” He snorted. “Half the damn cardiac ward watched. One of the nurses cried.”
Relief hit me so hard it was painful. He sounded okay. Tired, emotional, sure, but okay.
“You were unbelievable.” His voice dropped. “I’m so proud of you, kiddo.”
That undid me.
I pressed a hand hard against my eyes. “Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too.”
The call ended shortly afterward because apparently multiple nurses were now threatening to confiscate his phone if he got too excited again.
I sat there for a second, trying to pull myself together.
Ethan leaned in. “Looks like youandthe boyfriend are both gonna end up on the podium.”
I nearly choked. “Jesus Christ.”
“What?” He grinned. “It’s romantic. Very Olympic.”
I shoved him weakly while laughter burst out around us again, a mix of celebration and chaos.
“One point. We won gold by one freakingpoint.” Ethan’s face glowed. “Final scores: We got 69, Canada 68, and Velkarya, 60.”
They got the bronze.
I scanned the teams section. Luka’s gaze was locked on mine, and all I saw was pure, unguarded pride.
This victory felt tied to him.
