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A cheer went up. Applause swelled in the arena.

Then the scores showed on our screen.

Ward & Hasegawa

90.08

129.50

219.58

Phillipps & Navarro

89.10

130.85

219.95

Camden and Zoe had won gold by less than half a point. Tamsyn and I secured the silver. France had the bronze.

It was over.

Silver.

I pulled Tamsyn into a hug. She grinned, and her arms came around me. All our effort, the months of training, every single day, and it was finished.

Silver was good. Our points were excellent. Personal bests for both of us.

Somewhere at the rinkside, Cam would see the scores, and he’d know he’d won gold.

I smiled for him. His win was where my heart was, not mine. He and Zoe deserved to be on top of the podium, and I’d stand right beside them, beside Cam, where I wanted to be. Where I belonged.

I wanted him in my life more than I wanted any medal. I’d realized it while waiting in the security line at the airport. I may have let him go and walked away then, had it not been for those three important words he’d thrown my way.

“By the way . . . I love you.”

Words that had stopped me from going home.

“By the way . . .” Like an afterthought. Oh, did I forget to mention . . . And then the kicker. “I love you.”

We were ushered out of the kiss and cry and in front of cameras. Microphones appeared from every direction. Reporters called our names over each other, desperate to catch the first reaction while the scores were fresh on the screens.

“Ren, Tamsyn, congratulations. Silver medals, career-best scores. Is there any disappointment at coming so close to gold?”

Tamsyn looked at me to answer first.

“We delivered the best performance we have ever given,” I said. “There were no errors, and nothing we could have done differently. We’re proud of silver.”

Tamsyn’s hand pressed briefly on my arm. “Silver is not failure,” she said. “I’m extremely proud of what Ren and I achieved.”

“Ren,” another reporter called. “Philipps and Navarro have won the gold medal by less than half a point. How do you feel about the result?”

How did I feel?

My gaze moved beyond the cameras, toward the corridor leading back to the rink. Somewhere behind those walls, Cam would be crying and laughing, probably swearing too, while Zoe tried to keep him upright.

My chest tightened. “I’m happy,” I said. A few pens moved. It wasn’t enough. I knew that. “I’m uh . . . extraordinarily happy for them.” My voice caught. The cameras seemed to close in. I swallowed, but the emotion didn’t disappear. It rose harder, making my vision go hazy. “Zoe Phillipps is an exceptional athlete. She was technically excellent today, as she has been throughout this competition. She deserves every part of that medal.”