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I watched the expression in his eyes darken. The tick in his jaw returned.

“What price would you pay to never feel pain again, Red?”

“Anything.”

“Really?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

He watched me for a long moment. "Anything? Even if it cost you who you are?"

Maybe I wouldn’t give anything. It wasn’t something I’d ever been asked before.

He reached up to run a hand through his hair.

“Vanta and I don’t agree on much. And if there's one thing he's always misunderstood, it's what I wanted.”

I nodded. I thought I understood, but his answer was still vague enough that I wasn't exactly sure what had happened. One thing was clear, though: there was more to his decision to stop chasing a second Olympics than he was willing to tell me, and whatever it was had driven a wedge between him and Vanta.

He reached for his cup and leaned back, tossing it in the trash can behind him.

That was my cue that our conversation was over.

“You ready to head back?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, lifting my cup to finish off the remains of my coffee before tossing it.

The walk back across the street was quiet. Not awkward, just thoughtful.

When we reached the gym parking lot, he stopped beside his motorcycle while I headed toward my car.

"See you tomorrow, Red."

"See you tomorrow."

He pulled on his helmet as I unlocked my car. A few moments later, the rumble of his motorcycle faded into the distance.

It wasn't until I'd buckled my seatbelt that I realized I was still wearing his sweatshirt.

CHAPTER 40

The weeks leading up to the U.S Classic passed in a blur.

After that first ice bath, they became a regular part of my routine.

As practices grew more intense, I was less reluctant to follow orders because I knew I wasn't going to survive without them.

I stuck to my regimen, kept my head down, showed up to my early practices, and tried to ignore everything else.

Sloane had kept her distance, which was honestly a little odd. The next meet would be our first as teammates, so maybe she was too focused on training to antagonize me. Or maybe she was just waiting for the right moment.

Either way, the silence felt like the calm before the storm.

I tried not to lose focus or get paranoid, but it was hard not to be when so much was riding on my performance. It felt like everyone except for Rove was waiting for my downfall.

By the time Friday rolled around, the night before the U.S Classic, I was exhausted.

We didn't have practice the next day because we'd be traveling. Since the meet was so early Sunday morning, Vanta gave us Saturday off to get settled into the hotel, rest, and hopefully be refreshed by meet day.