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Chapter Forty-Three

Ryan

My heartstill hasn’t stopped pounding in my chest.

Pretty sure I’ve busted a few ribs from its aggressive beating.

But then, watching Sofia have the best meet of her collegiate career, and knowing her mom was here to see it, it’s worth it. I wanted to surprise her, and I think I did just that. But what I didn’t expect was for her to surprise me.

I love you.

Oh God, those words are on repeat in my head. Her eyes full of tears, her lip quivering as she wrapped herself around me. The way she said it, with such passion, such promise, will forever be seared on my brain. Fuck, it was perfect. And the joy and the love it filled me with were almost too much to bear. Except, now I don’t know what to think.

My whole family sits in my mom’s kitchen, including Uncle Shea and my cousins who just got back from Posey’s game. One of Sofia’s hands is in mine while she holds her mom’s hand with the other. Her mom isn’t what I expected. I expected some frail person who was losing a battle with a disease, but Valeria Castilleja is not that. She’s so full of life. She’s very skinny, which Sofia complains is because of the meds her mom is on, but even with that, she’s beautiful. Her eyes are like Sofia’s, a bright hazel, while her hair is a mess of dark curls that she has up in a bright-pink clip. Her face is round, and her lips are thin. She has wrinkles along the side of her mouth and eyes, but she’s as sharp as a tack. You’d never know she is fighting MS, which I think gives Sofia some comfort.

“I think that one judge was stuck-up—9.995. Really? What was the .005 she took off for?”

My mom laughs, we all do, but she says, “I said the same thing! Didn’t I, Elli?”

“Yes, it was bullshit.”

“I thought it was a ten for sure,” I say, and Sofia sends me a sweet grin that, if I weren’t sitting, would knock me on my ass.

“I probably didn’t point my toes on my layouts or something small.”

“Bullshit,” Elli complains again, and we all laugh.

“Ah, I tell you, you should have seen my bella at the finals back when she was ten. She was stunning, the best out there. She gave all these sixteen-year-old girls a run for their money. She looked as if she was flying. It was magnificent to witness.”

Sofia smiles proudly as she shakes her head in dismay. “I fell off the beam.”

“And still got a 9.6. The difficulty of the skill, eh, bella?”

“A back full,” she says shyly, and Amelia’s mouth drops.

“Shut up.”

Sofia shrugs. “Yeah, I fell. I was so mad.”

“At ten! I think the hardest thing I did was a damn cartwheel.”

My mom smiles. “And she fell on those all the time.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Amelia jokes, and everyone laughs.

“Ah, yes, it was crazy, and she would have landed it—”

“But I popped my hip out,” Sofia supplies, but as I look around the room, everyone is gawking at them. “It really wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Guys, the skill she is talking about is what she does in her beam routine now, the twist out of a back handspring,” Amelia adds.

Oh shit. “You did that at ten?” I ask, my eyes widening, and she shrugs.

“I told you, I didn’t leave the gym.”

Ms. Castilleja nods. “Never. From age three until eighteen, she only slept at my house. She had no downtime.”

“How was that for you?” my mom asks. “Did you miss her?”

“Constantly, but she wanted to go to the Olympics, and I believe in her.”

Sofia leans into her, pressing her chin to her mom’s shoulder. “I blew that, though.”

“No,” Ms. Castilleja says, shaking her head. “Your body failed. Your mind was very much an Olympian.”

Sofia scoffs as she looks over at me, a small smile on her face. I reach over, moving a piece of hair out of her eyes. “Have you guys seen the video of her doing the skill that broke her knee?”

“Oh, Mom, no. Don’t show that. It’s awful.”

I’m already up and out of my seat. “No, I wanna see it.”

“Me too!” Amelia gushes as she, Shelli, and Posey come over to Ms. Castilleja. She pulls out her phone, and it takes her a few moments of clicking before a video of a younger Sofia fills the screen.

“Ah, yes, here it is,” Ms. Castilleja says just as Sofia comes on the screen, a few inches shorter than now, with her hair in a tight bun on her head.

“My name is Sofia Castilleja. I am fourteen years old, and this is a double back tuck with a triple twist.”

The camera pans out, and Sofia takes off across the purple floor. She does some cartwheel, getting so much air, and it’s badass, until she hits the floor. Her leg goes one way and her knee another.

We all cry out in distress.

“Oh, that was gnarly!” Posey yells, shaking her head. “I don’t know how you came back from that.”

“I knew I wanted to be a gymnast,” Sofia answers simply as I sit back down, her hand finding mine once more. “I had goals.”

“Yes, she is so very ambitious. Her coach was completely against her coming here, but she came anyway. She knows what she wants, and she doesn’t back down.”

Isn’t that the damn truth? I drink in Sofia’s profile as a little smile pulls at her lips. She turns, her eyes burning into mine. “Some people love that about me.”

“I do,” I say softly, and Amelia gags.

“Get a room.”

Ms. Castilleja laughs as she reaches over Sofia to me, cupping my face. “Ah, leave him alone. He’s a doll.”

“He is pretty great,” Sofia says, but her mom isn’t done squeezing my face.

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