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A slowed-down acoustic version of “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer begins to play, and they make their first move across the ice. I’ve listened to this song and “Clair de Lune” more times than I can count in the time we’ve been together.
At practice, I was with her as she glided across the ice, looking so close to perfection it was hard to believe she wasn’t put on this earth just to do this. At the house, when she’d slide around the kitchen tiles, dragging me around with her, laughing, claiming we were practicing.
This song will always remind me of those moments.
I can’t move my eyes from the pair as they seamlessly and perfectly deliver every move. My phone is buzzing relentlessly in my pocket, but I ignore it, unwilling to miss even a split second. They’re nearing the end of the program, two minutes and almost forty seconds gone in a blink. Aaron picks her up for their final move, and Anastasia glides through the air flawlessly, landing so gently you wouldn’t think she was spinning through the air a second earlier.
The pair of them move toward the center of the rink, do their final dance moves, and end wrapped around each other as the music fades. Every second of it was perfect. Not even a hair out of place.
And when the applause starts, that’s when Aaron takes her face in his hands and kisses her.
FORTY-NINE | ANASTASIA
There are flashinglights going off all around us, and my chest is so tight I can’t breathe.
I’m pushing against him, but his grip on my face is too tight, and I don’t want to make a scene on the ice, since there are about thirty cameras, at all different angles, capturing this.
Capturing.
This is going to be available for everyone to see. People have already seen it; they’re watching it right now. Nathan is at home watching it right now. Watching us kissing.
I’m going to be sick.
Aaron finally detaches himself from me, leaning back, looking triumphant. He holds up an arm to wave to the crowd, and it’s taking everything in me not to burst into tears, right here in front of all these people. My body starts to function on its own, leading me off the ice to Brady’s smiling face.
She would be smiling; we were perfect. I could feel it in every movement, every twist and turn, every moment on the ice totally in sync. Right until the end, when Aaron put his mouth on mine without permission and ruinedeverything.
I take the guards from Coach’s outstretched hand, swerving the hug she tries to trap me in, and head through the tunnel away from the cameras and away from Aaron.
I can hardly see the exit a few meters in front of me as the tears line my eyes, blurring my vision.
“Stas!” Aaron shouts from behind me, and I can hear it in his voice—he’s confused. He doesn’t understand why I’m storming away from him when we should be celebrating our stellar performance.
A head-turning performance.
The kind of performance that puts you on people’s radars—the kind of people whose radars we want to be on.
His hand closes around my bicep, stopping me in my tracks, and I have no choice but to spin to face him. I want to appear strong, give the impression that I’m not impacted by him, but I can’t because the tears are streaming down my face. “We’re done, Aaron. You’ve gone too far this time.”
His eyebrows practically shoot up into his hairline. “What do you mean ‘we’re done?’ We fucking nailed it!”
Brady appears behind him, eyes cautiously flitting between us. “We need to wait for your score. Anastasia, I know you’re upset, and we can deal with this, but you need to wipe the tears away and put on a brave face for the cameras.” My chest heaves as they suffocate me with their wary glances. “I know, honey,” she coos. “I’m so sorry, I am. But you need to think of your career, let’s deal with this after, and I promise we will.”
“I don’t understand what I’ve done,” Aaron says flatly. “I don’t get it. Stop crying, we need to find out where we’ve placed.”
“No! I’m done.” I sob. “I couldn’t get him off me. He wouldn’t stop. I didn’t want to.Youwouldn’t let me go. I’m not doing it anymore, Coach. I don’t want to, I don’t want to,I don’t want to.”
The exit doors open behind us, and I get the shock of my life when Nathan flies through them. I watch him approach us over my shoulder, and it takes one look at my streaming eyes to know this wasn’t a stunt. It wasn’t part of our routine. We weren’t selling being in love for the cameras and the judges.
“Oh, here we fucking go,” Aaron grumbles.
“Are you okay?” Nate asks, frantically pulling my body to his in a tight hug. His thumbs gently sweep the tears away from under my eyes as I look up at him, shaking my head.
“I want to go home,” I force out between cries.
“This is fucking ridiculous. Anastasia, I’m sorry if I upset you, all right? I was in the moment. It’s what the people wanted and I just wanted to deliver. I won’t do it again if you’re going to be this upset over a silly gimmick.”
“You don’t fucking get it, do you?” Nathan seethes, releasing me and stalking toward Aaron. Before I even have time to tell him to leave it, his fist smashes into Aaron’s face, dropping him to the floor. Brady is gripping Nate’s arm before he has a chance to do anything more, screeching his name at him. “You forced yourself on her, you piece of shit!” he shouts down at Aaron, who’s cradling his swelling cheek.
