Almost.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AVELINA
The air inside the rink is cold, but I’m still warm from skating. My lungs burn a little, and my chest is tight in that all-too-familiar way which means I’ve pushed too hard.
I sit on the wooden bench, carefully lacing up my sneakers. He sits beside me, silent and still in the way only he can be. Like a statue, all carved muscle and shadows. But the warmth he brings does more than he’ll ever know.
Elbows resting on his knees, he stares at the rink. “You were beautiful out there,” he says, finally breaking the silence we’ve fallen into.
I glance at him, surprised. Not because of the compliment, but because of the earnestness and softness behind it. He doesn’t say that kind of stuff easily. “Thank you,” I murmur, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
He shifts toward me. “Why’d you stop?”
My heart trips. I knew he’d ask. Everyone always does. I had suchpromise. I had some talent. I had so much ahead of me. I just didn’t expect to have to fumble for an answer so soon.
I chew my bottom lip, then release it. “I...I competed until I was eighteen.”
He nods and doesn’t push. That silence of his—the patient kind rather than passive—eases me a little.
I exhale. “There was...something that happened. So, I stopped. It all worked out in the end.”
He looks at me, head tilted to the side, and I brace for him to push for a real reason. I can feel his curiosity, but there’s something else there too. “Just like that?” That’s not the question he wants to ask, and I know it.
“Just like that.” I smile tightly. “It stopped feeling the way it used to.” A shiver rolls through me when I think about Gennady.You never have to see that man ever again, I tell myself.
“What did it use to feel like?”
My gaze is on the ice. At the reflections of the overhead lights flickering on the surface. “Like…flying. Like I could touch something bigger.”
Viktor goes quiet again. So quiet that I start to wonder if I’ve said something wrong. But then he leans back, palms on his thighs, and nods. “I don’t... I’ve never felt that sort of feeling before. I don’t feel things the way most people do.”
My breath catches. It’s such a raw and honest statement that my heart thunders in my chest. Little by little, he’s letting me in.
His brow furrows. “I’ve never told anyone that. Not outright or out loud.”
I face him fully now. His jaw is tight, eyes locked on the ice, but I can feel that vulnerability seeping through. It’s something soft. And it’s something that craves love like anyone else... “You know, I think I know what you mean,” I say softly.
His gaze cuts to mine. Sharp. Unreadable. Searching. “You do?”
“I think I can empathize. Because I see some of the same things in Sofia.”
His shoulders ease the tiniest bit. “It’s not something I talk about.Having autism, that is. People tend to think I’m broken. Or cold. Or strange.”
“You’re not any of those things, Viktor.”
“I used to think I was.” He pauses. “But lately... I’ve started feeling things.Real things.And it scares the hell out of me.”
My heart almost stops beating.
“I think it’s because of you. You make me feel, Avelina.”
The words land on me like a brick and a balm.
“I don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs. “But...it’s something I never thought I could have.”
I reach for his hand, without thinking, curling my fingers around his. And he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he curls his fingers around mine. “You don’t have to be anything you’re not,” I say softly, giving his hand a squeeze. “Not for me.”
