Never in a million years could I have dreamed up what I’d been living the last several days. Racing with the best swimmers in the world. Standing on podiums Iused to only picture in quiet moments. And most importantly, having the most incredible woman by my side through all of it.
When I finally got to see her after my last event, I didn’t slow down. I pulled her into a hug, arms locking around her like I was afraid if I let go, the moment might evaporate.
She fit against me perfectly, like she always did—solid and comforting and real.
As she melted into me, she said, “I’m so proud of you.”
The words settled somewhere deep in my soul.
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her eyes were bright, a little glassy, like she’d been holding onto this feeling as tightly as I had. “You say that like I didn’t watch you nearly vibrate out of your seat the entire time.”
She scoffed. “Please. That wascontrolled enthusiasm.”
“Roxie, you almost tackled the woman next to you.”
“She was in the way,” Roxie replied unapologetically. “Of history.”
I laughed, forehead dropping to hers. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you,” she said, poking my chest, “are a Worlds medalist.”
The wordmedaliststill felt surreal. I shook my head. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
She softened instantly. “You did this, Ledger.”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “But having you there—knowing you were watching—it mattered.”
Her hand slid up my arm, fingers curling at my shoulder. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”
Something in her tone, confident and sure, made my throat tighten.
I kissed her then.
It wasn’t rushed or fueled by adrenaline alone. It was warm and certain and full of our commitment to one another. The noise of the pool faded, the cameras forgotten, the world narrowing down to the way she smiled into the kiss like she’d been waiting for it too.
When we pulled back, she brushed her thumb under my eye, gentle. “You did amazing,” she said again. “And I’m not just saying that because I’m legally obligated.”
I grinned. “Good. Because I plan to keep you around well past the paperwork.”
Her smile curved, slow and dangerous. “Careful. I might hold you to that.”
I leaned in once more, kissing her softly. “I hope you do.”
I glanced around—the lanes, the banners, the bright, unforgiving lights. For years, this place had been everything. The goal. The measuring stick. The thing I’d thought I had to do to earn my way into deserving anything else.
But standing here now, medal weight still lingering in my muscles, Roxie in my arms, I understood something I’d been chasing without realizing it.
This wasn’t the finish line.
It was the beginning.
I kissed her again, slower this time, deliberate. Thekind of kiss that wasn’t about urgency, but about connecting, about choosing to stay right here. Her hands slid up my chest, intimate and sure, and something in me finally unclenched.
With Roxie, my breathing evened out.
It was the same calm I’d only ever found underwater. The moment after the dive, when the noise disappears and everything narrows down to rhythm and control and trust in your own body. Except now, I wasn’t holding my breath.
I was breathing because of her.
