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Navarro is on his feet, punching the air. Well deserved. Zoe is up too. They hug, and you can see how much this means to them, the emotion is there on their faces. Canada has genuine gold-medal contenders here in this pair.

The question before today was whether Phillipps and Navarro could remain close enough to Hasegawa and Ward during the technical segment to be in with a chance of challenging them in the free dance. That question has been answered. This is no longer about whether Phillipps and Navarro can keep up with Hasegawa and Ward. They will now compete for gold alongside them in the free dance!

What a performance to end on, and what a spectacular day of ice dance in Sapporo.

TWENTY-FOUR

REN

I’d not planned to stay until the end of the day to watch Cam, but in truth, I couldn’t tear myself away.

I was alone in the stands, set back from the crowd, when Cam and Zoe stepped onto the ice. And what happened next had me and everyone in the stadium on our feet.

I had never seen Camden skate so completely. I’d known he was brilliant, of course, but had I truly believed he could be in with a chance of securing an Olympic gold medal?

It had almost crossed my mind that they might beat us, technically. Almost.

“Magnificent.”

The crowd were on their feet halfway through their program. The big screens showed the pair in all their beautiful glory as they made the technically difficult look effortless.

I was on my feet too.

The roar from the crowd when they finished, as the song ended, touched my chest. I knew what this meant to him. He’d be thrilled. Ecstatic. And it was so well deserved. He had brought himself back from injury, had fought every step of the way. Fought his body, fought expectations, fought everyone who thought him not good enough. He’d proven them all wrong.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and pressed my lips together. Stunning. Beautiful. I wished he were mine, wished I was down there beside the boards, so I could throw my arms around him and whisper in his ear how magnificent he was. I wanted to be the one to greet him, to cheer him on, to share in his dream.

But I couldn’t do any of that.

I sat back down, while the screens showed the slow-motion replays. Camden defied expectations, he defied everyone who looked at him and judged him, because of his past, his tattoos, his character. And at every step of the way, he defied my heart and my every attempt to deny us.

I loved him.

And it wasn’t just because of the dance and the emotion it had summoned in me. It was all of him. I’d always loved him. It wasn’t some fleeting infatuation, as my father assumed. It was real.

The scores showed on the screens.

The crowd came back to their feet in a wave of applause and celebration. The screens showed Team Canada waving their flags, jubilant, and hugging each other. And it showed Cam on his feet, punching the air, then hugging Zoe, who was close to tears.

Good.

It was more than good. They’d been brilliant. I would not want to skate against another pair in the free dance.

But inside, the hollowness returned. A numbness that I used to protect myself, protect my heart.

I loved this man, but he was not for me.

Could never be for me.

And that was something I would have to live with for the rest of my life.

As I left the stands, I pulled my phone from my pocket, typed out a quick message and sent it. My final message to him.

Congratulations, you were flawless. You were magnificent.

He would know I’d watched; he’d know I’d been here. It was all I could give him.

I dropped my phone into my pocket and left the stadium to catch the coach back to the Village. There was a party planned at the riverside café tonight. Nothing too rambunctious. Tomorrow would be a day of last-minute preparations for the free dance, and analysis of the top twenty competitors we would all need to compete against. But tonight, after the press run, all the athletes who had competed today would share a small celebration.