I could see his hesitation. He was looking at her now, his expression caught between a flicker of surprise and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.
Then, without warning, his arms moved, and in a second, he was pulling her into an embrace.
The hugwasn’tquick. Itwasn’tcasual. It was longer than it should’ve been—too long. Their bodies pressed close together, and I saw the tension in his back melt, just for a moment, like he was letting go of something that had been weighing him down. Her arms wrapped around him instinctively, and the connection between them became more than just a gesture.
I knew, in that moment, that this wasn’t about celebrating the Olympics. It wasn’t about competition or achievement. It was about something else—acknowledging her for something deeper.
I felt like an outsider watching them, standing there in the silence of the hallway. I wanted to look away, to give them their privacy, but I couldn’t. I was caught, tethered by something I couldn’t name. The hug, their closeness, felt like it was saying everything without saying anything at all.
Then, without a word, Yesoh pulled back just a fraction, but their hands stayed linked, lingering in that space as if neither of them was ready to let go. Her eyes searched his face.
But I could see it. I saw the hesitation in her eyes, too. She waswaiting. Waiting for something that wasn’t said, something that hovered between them like an unsolved mystery. Something that was awake in her but would remain dormant in him for longer.
Wyn’s hand shifted, tightening on hers just slightly, and for a heartbeat, it felt like everything was suspended. Like the world had paused just for them, frozen in time, right here in the hallway, in this house that had suddenly felt too small.
“Okay,” Wyn said, pulling his hand away slowly. The moment was broken, and the cold reality of the air around us crept back in. “I should go make sure the girls are ready.” His words came out softer than usual, and his voice had an edge to it, like something had shifted.
Yesoh nodded, her lips pressed together, but she didn’t say anything more. She didn’t need to. The words had already been spoken between them, and in the space between us, I could feel the weight of it. Whatever was hanging there, whatever had passed between them in that moment, I didn’t know. But I knew I’d never forget it.
Wyn grabbed his jacket, moving toward the door, and I stayed still, watching them, trying to make sense of the knot in my chest. I had never seen Wyn so vulnerable, so lost. The way he held on to Yesoh for just a little too long—it felt like a question left unanswered.
He glanced back once, giving a small, almost unreadable smile. “Thanks,” he said quietly, his gaze flicking briefly to Yesoh before he stepped out into the cold night, leaving the door to swing gently behind him.
And then it was just me and her.
I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to even begin to ask what I’d just witnessed. Instead, I simply stepped into the room, my boots scraping lightly against the floor. The weight of what had happened, of what I had just seen, hung in the air like smoke, and it felt too heavy to carry alone.
Yesoh didn’t look at me at first, her eyes fixed on the door as if she was still feeling the warmth of the hug, still lost in that strange, quiet space they’d shared. When she did turn, it was slow, almost hesitant.
“Cahya,” she began, her voice soft but not without a quiet edge. “Do you think he’s ready for what’s to come?”
“For what exactly?”
“For the whole wide world to love him.” She glanced down. “He may not know it now but I do, he’s aphenomenalskater, hewillwin, and when he does he won’t just be our Wynter anymore. He was, well, he was born to be a star.”
“He was, wasn’t he?” I realized too.
“I hope he’s ready.”
I shook my head, the answer clearer than any words I could’ve said. “I don’t think anyone is ever truly ready.”
It was supposed to be simple.
The plan had been clear from the start; sneak out, skate on the lake, and be back before the cold really set in. The parents warned us again, like they always did.Don’t go near the lake, don’t skate at night. But those warnings were of no consequence to us because they were the parents, they were always worried about one thing or the other. We’d heard it so many times that it became white noise in the back of our minds.
The thrill of sneaking around, doing something we weren’t supposed to, was too intoxicating. We were teenagers—carefree, invincible, or so we thought. The world had no grip on us. Not then. Not yet.
I watched as Jiwon giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief under the streetlights as she rushed ahead, skating in circles in the snow. Beck, Jax, and Sydney followed behind her, laughing as they raced to catch up. Wyn, ever the responsible one, stayed just behind, his eyes scanning the dark lake in front of us with a nervous energy that I couldn’t quite place.
I had to admit, I was excited too—thrilled even. The rush of skating on the lake at night, the cool bite of the air, the stillness of the world around us. It was the kind of freedom that didn’t come often. But as I looked at Wyn, there was something in his face that told me he didn’t share the same carefree excitement.
“You okay?” I asked, falling into step beside him.
“Yeah,” he said, though the tightness in his voice made it clear he wasn’t. His eyes flicked nervously toward the darker patches of ice. The edges of the lake, where the ice was thinner. “It just feels off tonight. Like… I don’t know. I don’t like the idea of being out here after everything the parents said.”
I nodded, though I didn’t share his hesitation. I had no reason to. The ice looked solid enough. We’d skated on it plenty of times before.
“Relax, man,” I said, slapping his shoulder lightly. “You’re always the cautious one. It’s fine. We’ll be back before anyone notices we’re gone. No harm done.”
