Chapter 28 #2
Then he looked back at me. “That’s not a choice I ever want Luka making either.
” His smile was kinda sad. “I came up in a time when being openly gay was basically a career risk. So I stayed closeted during my competitive years. I dated quietly. I never brought a partner into public spaces. But after I retired? I just stopped hiding.” His eyes shone.
“And then I met David, who is hands-down the most stable, grounded, normal man I’ve ever met.
” He squeezed my shoulder once more. “Now get back on the ice, and leave me to coach our Olympic drama queen over there. But do me a favor tonight? Try not to stare soulfully into the middle distance while skating?” He grinned. “Judges hate that.”
And with that, he walked toward Ethan, coffee cup in one hand.
I’d been up way too early, the first one on the ice, hoping to skate away the ache that hadn’t left me all night.
Turns out you can’t outskate something that’s already inside your chest.
I also needed to get out of there, because there was a real danger of Luka and Mila turning up, and I had a feeling that would only make the pain worse.
Luka
In the practice rink, everything reflected: the light off the ice; sound off the boards. Usually I liked that.
Today it made hiding impossible.
At least he isn’t here.
I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or relieved.
Walking out of his room had not flicked off a switch. He was still in my head. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his hands on my skin, his breath on my neck…
Him inside me.
Focus, Luka.
Right then I needed that off switch so badly.
Mila circled past me as I reset for the throw jump entry again, her ponytail snapping behind her. We took our positions. Years together had made some things instinctive, such as weight shifts, timing… trust.
Those years also meant we knew each other inside-out.
Mila said nothing until we reached the boards. “You anticipated the rotation late.”
“I know.”
Her gaze stayed on me for another second before she pushed away from the boards. “Then we do it again.”
We repeated the sequence twice more, and while the second was cleaner, the third was worse. Neither of us fell—it wasn’t that level of catastrophic—but I felt… disconnected.
By the time music from another skater’s session drifted across the rink, sweat chilled beneath the back of my training shirt despite the cold.
Mila skated toward me. “Take five minutes.”
“I do not need—”
“You do.” Her tone told me not to push further.
I followed her off the ice in silence.
Sokolov remained farther down the boards, speaking with an official, although I caught him watching us briefly before deliberately looking away again.
Even that felt intentional now.
Mila sat beside me on the bench while I unlaced my right skate to ease pressure across my ankle.
“What happened?”
I kept my gaze lowered. “Nothing.”
“That answer is insulting after eight years.” Mila leaned back against the wall behind the bench, arms folded. “You are hesitating again.”
The words cut straight through me because I knew she wasn’t referring to the technicalities of my performance.
“I am fine.”
“No.” The word came out with a firmness that meant there was more to come. “You are controlled. That is different.”
I stared at my hands.
Long seconds of silence.
“Did they speak to you?” I raised my chin at that, and she blinked. “Ah.”
“They called me in again yesterday.”
Mila’s expression hardened. “Who?”
“Vasiliev. Sokolov. Someone from media oversight.”
“And you are only telling me this now?” Her jaw tightened. “What did they say?”
“They said I was seen.” The bitterness in my quiet laughter startled me.
Mila closed her eyes. “Luka…”
“They told me this ends.” I swallowed hard. “That Foster is becoming a… distraction.”
The word sounded filthy now, as though Dean were an obstacle instead of the first honest thing that had happened to me in years.
Mila studied me. “And?”
I knew she was not asking what the federation wanted.
I looked away toward the ice where another team practiced lifts, their coach nodded encouragingly.
“I went to his room.”
“Oh.”
I pressed fingers to my temples before dragging my fingers through my hair.
“I told him we should stop.”
Mila went very still beside me. “You do not want that.”
“No.”.
“Then why tell him that?”
“Because they are right.”
The words hurt, because part of me believed them.
“If this continues, they will punish me quietly.” My throat tightened. “But they will punish you too.”
That finally got a reaction.
Mila’s gaze sharpened. “Do not make decisions for me.”
“I am trying to protect—”
“I know what you are trying to do.” Her voice remained low but firm. “And I know you well enough to see what it is costing you.”
I looked away. Across the rink, another pair worked through a lift sequence while their coach watched from the boards.
For a moment I saw Dean instead.
The memory surfaced with brutal clarity. His room. His voice.
Stay.
I shut my eyes.
“Did he let you go?”
“Yes.”
“That makes it worse.”
I swallowed hard, aware of the pressure building inside my chest. Finally, I opened my eyes.
“He asked me to stay.” Mila looked at me sharply. “In Velkaran,” I added, barely above a whisper.
Her face cracked. “Oh, Luka.” The sympathy in her voice nearly destroyed what little remained of my composure.
I cleared my throat. “I told him no.”
“And now?”
I stared blankly across the ice. I could still hear the way his voice had sounded.
‘I don’t want to lose you.’
The words followed me everywhere now.
“I do not know how to do this anymore,” I admitted.
Mila was quiet for a long moment. Then she reached over and squeezed the back of my neck.
“No,” she said softly. “I think the problem is that now you finally do.”