Epilogue
Katerina Volkov starts her routine, and like everyone else, I can’t help but watch. The woman is mesmerizing on the ice. During the last Olympics, she was a pairs skater with her former fiancé. When they split, she decided to do it all on her own.
Honestly, I can’t blame her. It’s been fun to watch her transition, though. If you ask me, she’s better now than she was when she was with him.
“You know better than to watch,” Irina murmurs as she comes up next to me.
“It’s not a big deal,” I tell her as I move into another stretch, trying to keep my body loose.
“You know it’s not smart to watch the competition before you. It will psych you out.” She tsks her tongue.
“It won’t. I promise,” I tell her.
Irina tilts her head to the side. “You are calm. Are you not nervous?”
Taking a deep breath, I move into another stretch. “No, I’m not.”
“Should I be concerned?” she asks.
“Not at all. I’m good, I promise. I already decided to leave it all out there. Whatever happens, happens.”
Irina frowns. “I don’t know if I like the sound of that.”
I laugh. “Why?”
“Have I told you that you’ve changed since you became a mother and a wife?”
I smile as I think about my family.
Alissa and Brett have changed my life for the better. They remind me that there is more to life than skating. Although there is a lot of skating going on between the three of us. Between my practicing and Brett’s coaching, it’s no surprise that Alissa was drawn to the ice.
It’s only a matter of time before she chooses which one she prefers. Figure skating or hockey. I have a sneaking suspicion that she will choose pucks over spins, but only time will tell.
“Are you with me?” Irina asks, pulling my attention back to her.
“Yes, and you have a time or two.”
“I like it. I don’t understand, but I like it.”
Standing, I turn toward her. “Did you ever think about having kids?”
Sadness fills her eyes. “It was not in the cards for me.”
“I’m sorry.”
She waves her hand through the air. “It’s fine, I made peace with it years ago. Besides, we shouldn’t be talking about this. You need to be thinking about your routine. Are you sure you don’t want to change anything about it? There is still time.”
I shake my head. “I’m going to do it.”
“It’s complicated. If you manage to pull it off, you will win.”
“That’s the goal.” I wink, making her smile.
My routine is the most complicated one I’ve ever done. When I made it past the short program and into the long program, I knew it was time to bust out all the tricks of the trade. My short program was everything they wanted. It filled all their requirements, and I played it safe.
Now it’s time for the gloves to come off. It’s time to show them what I’m capable of and who I really am.
Emery Woods.
Figure skater. Wife. Mother.
I’m about to set an example for little girls and women all over the world that you can have it all.
“She’s done. She did well, unfortunately,” Irina says.
I turn and watch as Katerina moves to the kiss-and-cry area to receive her scores. She looks so excited and proud of herself as she leaves the ice. Yet by the way her coaches react you would think she just let her country down.
Her free skate was genuinely beautiful but not as good as mine.
If I can pull it off.
I will.
With her back straight, she clutches the flowers that were waiting for her and ignores the camera. When her scores come across the screen, she and her coaches nod.
Not a smile to be seen, even though she is now in first place.
How could you not smile when earning first place?
“I’m telling you right now, Irina, if you don’t smile and hug me like you care about me when I exit the ice, I’m firing you.”
Irina scoffs. “You can’t fire me when I already know this is your last competition.”
“Watch me,” I tease, making her smile.
“Fine, if you insist, I will pretend to like you,” she jokes.
I’m happy she’s here with me, though. I only had one year left at the college, but Irina started her own rink like she said she would, and I was her first client. Her unwavering belief in me is one of the reasons I made it. Brett’s support is the other.
“Thank you,” I tell her.
She gets serious once again. “Are you ready?”
“One way to find out.”
Leaving my designated area, I move toward the rink. While I wait for the judges to call my name, I scan the crowd. When I see them, I can’t help but smile.
Brett, Alissa, Wyatt, Beckett, Peyton, Grace, Clay, Cora, Kellan, Mama James, and my parents all sit together in the stands, ready to cheer me on.
I never would have expected them to come over to watch me, but they wouldn’t hear otherwise.
The guys said that they owed me one for always coming to watch their games.
The only one missing is Wyatt’s girl, but that’s okay.
She’s been blowing up my phone all week with words of encouragement and apologies for her absence.
I forgive her. Traveling while eight months pregnant isn’t an easy feat.
Alissa is sitting on her Uncle Wyatt’s lap, bouncing like crazy. I can’t help but laugh as I watch the two of them. My girl loves her uncles, but she shares a special bond with Wyatt. Since the day she was born, those two have been thick as thieves, and I love it. I love that she has them.
That she has family.
Something she would have never had if it weren’t for the friends Brett made along the way.
“And now from the United States of America, Emery Woods.”
As my blade hits the ice, everything around me goes quiet. The world stills. When I hit the center of the ice, I take one last look at my husband and daughter.
Alissa is jumping and clapping like mad. My eyes move to my husband, who offers me a nod of encouragement.
Smiling, I dip my chin to my chest and take my position.
My heart races as I wait for the music to start and when it does, I move.
As my wife takes the ice, my knee begins to bounce with nerves.
I feel like I’m about to vomit, and I’m not even the one out there right now.
“You need to chill the fuck out or you’re going to give yourself an ulcer,” Clay tells me.
Discreetly, I give him the middle finger as I itch the side of my face, making him laugh.
“Daddy, look! Mommy’s out there!” Alissa claps, making my heart clench.
Daddy.
Even after three years of hearing her call me Daddy, it hasn’t gotten old.
I fucking love it. My little girl is the spitting image of her mother but with my eyes.
She’s fucking beautiful, and I hate to think of the day she grows up.
The guys like to remind me that there are going to be a lot of sleepless nights in our future while we wait up for her.
I just pray to God she takes after her mother and is a good girl and nothing like me.
“And now from the United States of America, Emery Woods.”
My breath catches as I watch my wife take the ice. Her shoulders are back, and she looks calm. Almost as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. Right when she hits the center of the ice she looks up at me, finding me easily in a crowd of thousands.
I nod. Silently telling her that she’s got this.
She smiles as she drops her chin to her chest, getting into position.
When the music starts, she takes off like a rocket.
Unlike the short program, there are no mandatory elements in the free program.
It’s up to the skater do what they want and to showcase their skills and artistry to the best of their ability.
My breath catches when she goes into her first jump. When she lands, the crowd loses their minds.
“Holy shit, did she just do a quadruple jump?” Beckett asks with awe.
“Fuck yes, she did. Go, Emery, go!” Peyton yells.
Quadruple jumps in women’s skating aren’t typical. When I asked Emery why, she explained that it’s because women’s hips are wider than men’s, and it slows them down when they are rotating in the air.
“Knock it off. People are staring,” Grace hisses.
“They can stare all they want. Our sister is out there doing shit,” Peyton tells her.
While they bicker, I don’t look away.
For six more jumps, three spins, one step sequence that’s full of fucking sass, and one choreographic sequence, I hold my breath.
Only when she comes to a stop in the middle of the ice, do I breathe.
She did it. She fucking did it.
Our family jumps up and cheers.
“Your mommy just kicked some serious butt,” Wyatt tells Alissa.
“Go, Mommy!”
Her head snaps up, and she laughs. She fucking laughs. As she heads off the ice, she smiles.
“That was insane,” Clay says.
“Did you know she had all of that planned, Brett?” her dad asks.
“I did,” I say, not bothering to hide the pride in my voice.
She makes her way to the kiss-and-cry booth, which I still think is a stupid fucking name, and hugs Irina.
Side by side, along with one of her other coaches, she sits down with a bouquet of flowers in her lap. Her shoulders are back, and there’s a confidence in her that I’ve never seen before.
She knows.
She already knows she did it. Emery Woods doesn’t need the judges to confirm what she already knows: that she’s the best.
When the scores come through, the crowd goes fucking wild. While our family loses their minds around us, I watch her. Her bold red lips slowly move into a smile, and her eyes find mine in the crowd.
She did it.
We fucking did it.
Only when her coaches steal her attention do I drop my head into my hands. Tears begin to fall from my eyes.
We fucking did it.
Five years ago, I promised her that she would make it here.
I promised her that becoming a mother wouldn’t derail her desire to win.
After she had Alissa, it was a struggle to keep her off the ice until she was cleared.
Then when she was, it was game over. We spent endless hours at the arena.
I learned everything I could about figure skating so that way I could help her practice.
On top of skating like a maniac, she finished school, we survived the newborn stage, I started teaching and coaching, we got married, and bought a house.
In the last four years, so many big life changes have happened, but this feels like the biggest thing of all.
She fucking did it.
My wife’s a goddamn gold medal winner for figure skating in the Winter Olympics.
She’s a champion, and now everyone knows it.
It feels like forever before the ceremony is over and we’re cleared to see her. At first, I let everyone else congratulate her. I watch as our family and daughter tell her how proud they are and how amazing she did until it’s finally my turn.
Finally, she looks my way and smiles. She jumps into my arms, wrapping her legs around my waist.
“Gold,” she murmurs.
“You did it. You fucking did it.”
She pulls back slightly and cups my face in her hands. “No, Brett, we did it. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“That’s not true.”
She rolls her pretty blue eyes. “It is, and you know it.”
“I’m proud of you.”
Tears fill her eyes. “I love you.”
“I love you more.”
She leans in and kisses me softly. I swear when her lips touch mine, the rest of the world fades away.
“Come on, you two. It’s time to celebrate.” Her father claps, making us break apart.
Reluctantly, I set her down.
“Where do we go?” Peyton asks.
“Let’s wing it,” Clay says.
I look down at my girl and watch her nod. “Sounds like a plan. I just need to change first and put this someplace safe.”
Our family walks past us, Alissa safely contained on her Uncle Beckett’s shoulders. I take her hand in mine.
“I have a question,” she says.
“Answer.”
“How would you feel about giving Alissa a sibling?” she asks, making me trip.
“You good back there?” Wyatt asks.
“All good,” I tell him before looking back at her. “Are you pregnant?”
She shakes her head. “No, but I am ovulating.”
“Now?”
“I was thinking tonight, when our daughter is out having a slumber party with her aunts and uncles. What do you think?”
“I think tonight won’t come soon enough.”