Epilogue
Three years, eleven months, and thirteen days later…
“Adriana Russo e Brayden Elliot degli Stati Uniti d’America!” the announcer calls out to the crowd in the Mediolanum Forum, and like always, our fans shower us with shrieks of love and adoration, along with a downpour of stuffed animals we’ll sign and then donate to young fans.
I can barely catch my breath and I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to again. Brayden’s hand is grasping mine tightly as we take our bows to the crowd.
Was it enough?
It’s impossible to know.
We didn’t give an inch, but then neither had our competition.
Coming into tonight, the margins were so small, the tiniest error might be the thing that makes the difference.
We skate to the edge of the rink and Camille is waiting for us, a wide smile on her face, and she pulls us both in for massive hugs, but her expression is tense, like she’s as unsure as we are.
It’s been back and forth for two and a half years now. Literally.
Ever since Riley’s knee healed, we’ve flip-flopped with her and Freddie for first and second place in every single ice dance competition we’ve entered. We won Nationals. They won Skate America. We won Worlds. Then they won it the next year.
And now, nearly four years removed from the Junior Figure Skating World Championships, where most of the media traces back our intense, but friendly (and in one way, more than friendly) rivalry, it’s time to name an Olympic Champion.
We promised that it’ll be okay between us, no matter what. That’s what we decided four years ago on the ice in Paris. That no matter what happened on the ice, we’d always love each other, and nothing could change that.
It hasn’t been easy and there’s been more than one fight, more than one time when we’ve taken our frustrations out on each other, but mostly it’s been everything I could ever imagine.
I’ve been able to have it all. A great partner on the ice and a guy I love off it, and mostly it’s worked out fine, especially after Brayden found a girl he wanted to go on a second date with, that student at MIT, studying brain and cognitive science, who calls him on his bullshit but loves him in spite of it.
Turns out they were right to let her in after all.
The cameras in front of us are beaming our images up to the screen high above the crowd and to audiences back home, so I talk to them, sending Maria and Charlie my love.
They’re up in the stands, newly minted Olympic bronze medalists, with Dad and Elisa, who made another Olympics but isn’t going home empty-handed this time.
As a team, we secured a gold medal, like Freddie said we would, four years ago back at Kellynch House.
There’s no justice more poetic in the world, at least in the figure skating world, than my older sister getting her Olympic gold but having to share it, not only with her sisters, but with Brayden and Freddie and the rest of Team USA.
“I punteggi, per favore,” the announcer says, and it brings me back to this moment. Brayden holding one hand, Camille the other. My eyes flick up to the scoreboard where Riley and Freddie sit in first place with a 227.52, a huge total score.
This is going to be so close.
Off to the side of the Kiss and Cry, Freddie and Riley are standing with Georgia, holding hands and staring at the scoreboard, but Freddie must feel my eyes on him because he looks down and we make eye contact.
I love you, I mouth silently.
I love you, he mouths back.
“Adriana Russo e Brayden Elliot hanno guadagnato nella danza libera, 139.2, il meglio di una nuova stagione per un punteggio totale di 227.46. Adesso sono al secondo posto.”
There’s a shriek of unrepressed joy from outside the Kiss and Cry. Brayden’s hand tightens on mine, and my shoulders deflate.
It’s not gold. It’s silver.
Disappointment barely has a chance to fully settle in my chest before Camille pulls me into a tight hug and when she releases me, Brayden holds me against his chest. There aren’t any words to say, nothing that will make it better.
There will be time to deal with it in the days and weeks to come, but right now, I need to congratulate the new Olympic Champions.
Then the others converge, the bronze medalists from Canada along with Freddie and Riley. Brayden and Freddie shake hands. They’ve developed something of a friendship in the last four years, and while I wouldn’t call them close, there’s definitely a certain level of respect between them.
Riley leaps at me, tear tracks lining her cheeks, and I catch her easily, the girl who has become more than a friend and competitor, but another sister. She came all the way back from a blown-out ACL to the top of the Olympic podium. “I’m so proud of you.”
She hugs me tight, still sobbing, unable to speak. I finally release her to let Brayden give her a hug and I move over to the love of my life.
I rise up on the toe picks of my skates to wrap my arms around him. His forehead rests against my shoulder, his body practically vibrating with unbridled happiness.
I smile into the curve of his neck, the pain of the loss not gone, just eased the tiniest bit. “Next one’s mine.”
He huffs a laugh and holds me tighter. “Bring it on.”