She didn’t care what the media wanted from us or how loudly people begged for the “duo” to return. She was protecting me from myself in ways I didn’t know how to anymore. And if it meant she lost a race because she forced me to slow down, to stop spiraling, to rest then be fine.
And that made something warm crack open in me. It made me genuinely happy to have her as someone I respected deeply.
Olivia and I were okay. Better than okay. We talked enough to keep the space between us from filling withnoise, even if I still wasn’t brave enough to tell her how tight the pressure felt in my chest, how loud the anxiety could get when I stopped moving. I didn’t lie to her, not really. I just held things back.
Olivia became my constant, the one voice that cut through the noise. When my thoughts spiraled, she grounded me without even trying, like a reminder of who I was beyond timesheets and start lines, beyond what I owed the sport.
The continental races came, and suddenly I was back on podiums again. Nothing came easy, but I was stringing together the results. On the bigger stage, I wasn’t cracking the podium yet, but finishing inside the top 8 against the best in the world. I wasn’t perfect, but I wasn’t drowning anymore.
Dad didn’t say much afterward. Just a nod, then a clap on my shoulder. But it was enough, I could see it in his eyes, the quiet pride he never wrapped in words. And deep down, I knew Mom would’ve felt the same, and Archer too, loud and unfiltered in the way only he could be.
CHAPTER 30
OLIVIA
Clay and I never made peace. No semifinals, no momentum, just exits that felt like the surface itself was spitting me out. And the worst part? I knew I’d have to face it again soon, because the Olympics would drag me right back onto red dirt whether I liked it or not. So I logged the failure, tucked it somewhere it couldn’t soften me, and shifted to what I could control. Grass Surface.
Coach Dani kept drilling footwork like she was trying to beat the clay ghosts out of me. And somewhere in all that repetition, something steadied. Grass rewarded the parts of me clay refused to acknowledge.
But despite my busy training on grass, my mind kept drifting back to her. Alex had been stretched thin lately; tournaments, press, the constant grind and I hated the distance in her voice every time she said she was “fine.” Ever since that race she pulled out of, she’d clawed her way back onto podiums, winning again like everyone expected her to… but the spark wasn’t there. Not the one I knew. She was performing, not living. And I could see it, even through a screen. That’s why I wanted to be there and to show up for her the way she’s always shown up for me.
So I started planning quietly, checking flights between water breaks, and syncing my training blocks with travel windows. If everything lined up, I’d land, walk through her door, and watch the stress melt from her face when she realized I’d come just for her.
Maddie caught me smiling at my phone. “Alright, spill. That’s not a 'scrolling-face'. That’s your‘Liv’s up to something’face.”
“I’m… thinking of surprising Alex. She’s been carrying too much lately.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “And your instinct is to hop on a plane?”
“I just want to be there,” I said, trying to sound casual and failing. “No press, no big gesture. Just… me, showing up.”
Maddie’s face softened, the corners of her mouth curving. “That’s actually sweet. Reckless, but sweet. You’ve sorted how this fits around training?”
“Already handled,” I answered. “Flights, sessions, everything. You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m always going to worry,” she muttered, shaking her head with a smile. “But if anyone deserves you making the effort, it’s her. Just don’t expect me to cover if you miss warm-up the next morning.”
I grinned. “Deal.”
And just like that, the plan felt real. The night before my flight, I sat cross-legged on my hotel bed going over the details one last time. I’d already messaged Bobby earlier that week to loop him in, that I needed a way in without cameras or questions. He didn’t even hesitate.
So I booked the flights, packed a bag, and braced myself for the long haul.
The travel nearly killed me. Twenty-four hours of recycled air, stiff necks, and a delay that made me question every life choice I’d ever made. By the time I stumbled through arrivals, I looked like I’d fought turbulence with my bare hands. My hair was a disaster, my back was screaming, and all I wanted was to curl up somewhere dark and horizontal. But the thought of seeing her cut through the exhaustion like nothing else.
I pulled out my phone and typed the message I’d been waiting to send.
Bobby answered within a minute.
I couldn’t help but laugh, Trust Bobby to make it sound like some covert mission. And maybe it was.
It was barely past seven when Bobby met me by the van bay, hoodie pulled over his head like he was smuggling contraband. His grin was warm, though, and when he pressed the plastic keycard into my palm, my heart hammered against my ribs.
“She’s still asleep,” he whispered. “You’ll catch her before the day gets chaotic.”
God, I hoped so. I clutched the key like it was treasure, nerves fizzing as I crept down the carpeted hallway. My suitcase wheels were silenced by the thick rug, every step stretching into forever.
The lock beeped. My hand shook as I pushed the door open, smile already tugging at my lips, and then I froze.
