She hesitated, then looked back at me. “I am really proud of you. Just so you know. No matter what.”
That might’ve been the hardest part of all.
Because she wasn’t saying it as my wife. Or as part of the arrangement. She was saying it like someone who genuinely cared, like my success mattered to her even if I wasn’t useful to the plan anymore. Like she’d still be standing there, coffee in hand, proud of me, even when this whole thing was over.
It made my chest ache in a way I didn’t know how to fix.
I wanted to tell her how much it meant. How her belief hit differently than anyone else’s. How hearing it from her made the years of doubt and debt and scraped-together hope feel almost worth it.
Instead, I swallowed it down.
Because saying any of that would crack something open I wasn’t ready to face. And because if I let myself lean into the comfort of her pride, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to step back again when the clock ran out.
“Thanks,” I said quietly.
“I should—” She gestured toward the living room. “I have a call soon.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Of course.”
She hesitated, like she might say something more. Then she turned and walked away, leaving the air between us buzzing and unfinished.
I stood there in the kitchen after she disappeared, heart still pounding, body still remembering her like it didn’t know how to let go yet.
Eventually I headed toward the bedroom, heart still racing, thoughts tangled and loud.
Victory had felt so clear this morning. I’d qualified for Trials. The thing I’d been chasing for most of my life.
And somehow, that victory felt tangled up with fear in a way I hadn’t expected.
Because now there was more on the line than just my career.
There was her.
And as I shut the bedroom door behind me and turned on the shower, steam already creeping into the air, one truth settled in deep and unshakable.
I still wanted Worlds. I wanted it with the same hunger, the same focus, the same refusal to quit that had carried me through every brutal morning and lonely night. I was closer than I’d ever been—one step from the dream I’d built my entire life around.
But somewhere along the way, without asking permission, I’d started wanting something else too.
Someone else.
And wanting more than one thing meant the risk had multiplied. It meant that no matter how hard I swam, no matter how far I pushed myself, there was now more I could lose.
I stood under the spray, letting the water beat againstmy skin, finally understanding just how dangerous hope could be.
Because I was closer than ever to everything I’d ever wanted.
And more afraid of losing it than I’d ever been.
CHAPTER 19
ROXIE
Iwoke up already bracing myself.
That was the first thing I noticed, that my body knew something had shifted before my brain caught up. My shoulders were tight. My jaw ached like I’d been clenching my teeth in my sleep. The ceiling above me felt too close, like the room had shrunk overnight.
Ledger was already gone.
