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perfect for u then

I wasn’t sure how to reply to that, or how to keep the conversation going. I sighed and looked out the window. He was close by. Perhaps in the same building or the one over. After being apart for so long, it seemed surreal that he could be so close now.

I moved to the window. People ambled about outside, walking between buildings. Athletes were still arriving, luggage wheeled behind them. Electric golf-cart style buggies shuttled between the buildings. I looked at my phone. He hadn’t replied or added more. A ridiculous notion about asking him to meet for a hot drink in one of the many cafés almost ended up as a message, but I dropped the idea before typing it out.

My phone pinged again.

I opened my father’s text chain.

Have you landed yet?

Yes, we’ve arrived.

I’m staying at Mitsui Garden Hotel. Once you’re settled, meet me in the hotel reception.

I leaned against the window frame and replied.

I should stay with the team. We have media day tomorrow.

We’ll talk before then, so you’re prepared.

My phone rang in my hand before I’d finished reading the message. “Father. How are you?”

“Good, good, have you settled in?”

“Getting there. About meeting up, I really need to focus on the team⁠—”

“The team each has their discipline. You need to focus on yourself and Tamsyn. I’d like to go through how the next few weeks will look with you, and we can’t do that over the phone. Come to the hotel.”

The team already had scheduling managers. My schedule was packed without my father demanding more of my time outside the Village. But how could I say no to him? He’d flown out to support me. He’d been here, been through this. His insight would be invaluable. “Alright. I’ll get a taxi later.”

“Good, good, eight p.m.”

“Alright,” I repeated. Anything but agreement would just lead to more arguing.

He ended the call.

I sighed and dropped my head back, then lolled it toward the window to idly scan the view. My father was relentless, but he was also the reason I’d gotten to this point. My life, my training from a young age, it had all been building to now. I owed him everything. I should be grateful—I was, even though I didn’t feel it, or much of anything. I was just tired after the flight and the hectic run-up to the team’s departure. Once I was settled, knew the practice rink, and got used to the time difference over the next couple of weeks, everything would feel like less of a battle.

Navarro:

I’m going to explore. Maybe see u round?

I smiled at my phone and sent,

Maybe.

Through the window, I watched the people mill back and forth, wearing all the colors of the rainbow, and told myself I was not looking for Canada’s red and white.

The first day after arrival was Olympic media day, where the athletes gathered in the main building for interviews with the press. You couldn’t move through the corridors without bumping into someone with a lanyard around their neck or athletes in team colors.

Tamsyn and I stood with the rest of Team GB, waiting to enter one of the many press rooms, after being shuffled in this general direction by an organizer with the commanding presence of a schoolteacher trying to manage a gaggle of children on a day trip.

The press room door opened, and a jubilant Canadian team spilled out, brilliant and bubbling in their vibrant flag colors. I spotted Camden before he saw me. Almost nineteen months apart, and seeing him just a few strides away with no warning snatched all the air from my lungs. It had to happen eventually, but I hadn’t expected to see him so soon. In a few moments, he’d pass right by me, close enough to reach out and touch.

His hair had grown out another unruly inch—long enough to tuck behind his ear now—and had gained a few curls. It bounced as he walked. I recalled a startling memory of running my fingers through his hair, of breathing him in, so close to me that the lines between us, where I ended and he began, blurred.

The corridor chatter fell away. Our organizer ushered us toward the door.