Chapter Thirty-Three
Liam
It’s been one hell of a day. Somehow, despite the relentless symptoms gnawing at me and the weight of stress pressing down like an avalanche, I came out on top.
First place. But the taste of victory is bitter, soured by the shadow of the rumors swirling around me.
Lon made sure the judges knew my rapid test was clean, and that a more extensive test results would be available as early as tomorrow morning.
So, the first place prize is mine as long as I can prove I really am clean.
I can handle gossip from my teammates and co-competitors—I’ve dealt with whispers and headlines for years.
But this? This is different. This isn’t just about my reputation; it’s an attack on the thing that defines me, the thing I’ve poured my entire life into.
Snowboarding isn’t just a job. It’s a piece of me, a part of my soul carved into every mountain I’ve ever ridden.
To have that questioned? It cuts deeper than I thought possible.
Pete’s—a basement pizza parlor with creaky booths and sticky tables—is where everyone wanted to celebrate. But I couldn’t bring myself to go. I needed to come home. Maggie.
When I step through the door, the warm scent of coffee and faint clicks of keyboard keys greet me.
Jack’s sitting across from Maggie at the dining room table, both of them immersed in their work.
Jack’s fingers move rapidly across his keyboard, while Maggie stares intently at her laptop screen, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Neither of them notices me at first, and for a moment, I just stand there, taking it in. This odd sense of normalcy, of teamwork, leaves me feeling unexpectedly relieved.
I clear my throat. Maggie’s head snaps up, her blue eyes meeting mine. Instantly, her face lights up with a smile that sends a wave of warmth through my chest. “Hey,” she says softly, closing the laptop. “We heard you won.”
Jack stands, stretching his arms above his head before snapping his laptop shut. “Yeah, congrats. First place again, huh? No big deal,” he teases with a smirk.
“Thanks,” I reply, though the weight of the day dulls any excitement. My eyes flick to Maggie.
Jack glances between us, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s getting late. I should probably get going. Let you two talk.” He grabs his things, offering Maggie a quick wink as he heads for the door.
Maggie stays seated, watching me carefully as if trying to gauge where my head is at. I know what I need to do now to put the rumors to rest. I need to tell the truth. Not just to the world but to her.
Jack gathers his things and heads out, giving me a nod that feels like silent encouragement. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving Maggie and me alone in the dining room. The silence is thick, almost stifling, and I feel it pressing down on me like a weight I’ve been carrying for far too long.
I sit across from her, trying to steady the storm inside me. My pulse races, and for a moment, I wonder if I should just keep it all to myself. But then Maggie looks up, her eyes meeting mine, and I see something there—something steady, grounding. She can handle this. She can handle me.
Taking a deep breath, I lean back in my chair and rub the back of my neck. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Her full attention snaps to me. “Of course. What’s going on?”
Her voice is soft, inviting, and for a moment, it gives me the courage I need.
“There’s something I’ve been hiding,” I start, the words heavy and reluctant.
“Not because I wanted to deceive anyone, but because I wasn’t ready to face it myself.
But after everything that’s happened… I think it’s time. ”
Her brows furrow, concern blooming across her face. “Liam, you’re scaring me. What are you hiding?”
I stare at the table, searching for the right words.
When I finally speak, my voice is low, uneven.
“Six months ago, I started noticing these weird symptoms—tingling in my limbs, blurry vision, fatigue that just wouldn’t go away.
At first, I thought I was overtraining. Pushing myself too hard. But it wasn’t that.”
Her lips part, and I see the worry deepen in her eyes. She doesn’t interrupt, just waits, her silence urging me to continue.
“I went to see a doctor,” I say, my throat tightening. “After weeks of tests and waiting, they gave me the diagnosis: multiple sclerosis.”
The words hang in the air, and I see the shock ripple through her. Her hand flies to her chest, and she inhales sharply. “Liam…”
“At first, I didn’t tell anyone except my parents,” I continue, almost cracking under the weight of the admission.
“Not my family, not my friends. No one. I didn’t want it to define me.
I didn’t want people to see me as weak or fragile.
Snowboarding is my life, Maggie. It’s who I am.
If I lose that, I don’t know who I’ll be. ”
Tears shimmer in her eyes, and she leans forward, her hand finding mine on the table. “Liam, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.”
Her words break something loose inside me, and for the first time, I feel the enormity of what I’ve been holding back.
“It’s been hard,” I admit. “But hiding it… that’s been harder.
And after everything today—winning, but having it overshadowed by those rumors—I realized I can’t keep doing this.
I don’t want to keep hiding. I need to own this. ”
Maggie tightens her grip on my hand, her gaze unwavering. “What do you need from me?”
“I want you to write the story,” I say, the words tumbling out in a rush. “The real story. About me. About what I’ve been going through. I trust you, Maggie. I know you’ll tell it the right way.”
Her lips tremble as she processes what I’ve just said. “Liam, are you sure? Once it’s out there, you can’t take it back.”
“I’m sure,” I reply firmly. “If I’m going to move forward, I need to be honest. With myself, with the world. And I need people to know the truth, not the lies that are out there now.”
Her blue eyes search mine, and I can see the weight of my request settling on her. “Thank you,” she says softly, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for trusting me with this. I promise I’ll do everything I can to tell your story with the respect it deserves.”
For the first time in a long time, I feel as thought the dreaded weight of this secret is starting to lift. “Thank you,” I murmur, a small smile breaking through the tension.
We sit there for a moment, the silence between us charged with unspoken emotion.
I take a deep breath, the reality of my decision sinking in as I meet Maggie’s gaze. “There’s one more thing I need you to include in the story,” I say. “I need you to break the news that I’m officially retiring from snowboarding.”
Her brows lift slightly, and she tilts her head, her expression thoughtful. “Are you sure you want to retire?”
I nod slowly, running my thumb over the back of her hand.
“Yeah. I’ve had a great run, Maggie. I’m leaving a sport I love on the highest of highs.
But it’s time. I’ve always shown up for the fight, always given it everything I had.
Now it’s time for me to take care of myself.
My body gave me seventeen incredible years.
It’s time I started giving something back to it. ”
Her lips curve into a small, understanding smile, though I see the curiosity sparking in her eyes. “And what comes next?” she asks gently, as if she’s afraid to disrupt the fragile moment between us. “What’s next for Liam Thompson?”
I let out a quiet laugh, the sound almost wistful.
“New dreams,” I say simply. “I’ve poured so much of myself into snowboarding.
I’ve loved it with everything I’ve got, but I’ve always known there was an expiration date.
No one can do this forever. Now feels like the right time to pivot, to start chasing something new. ”
“New dreams,” Maggie echoes, her interest evident. “What kind of dreams are we talking about?”
I pause, considering how to put it into words.
“I want to give back,” I finally say. “I’ve been working on an idea—a program, really—for young snowboarders.
A place where they can learn, train, and grow without the pressure I put on myself.
A space where the love for the sport comes first. Where they’re taught not just how to be great athletes, but how to take care of themselves, too. ”
Her smile grows, her fingers squeezing mine gently. “That’s… amazing, Liam. Truly. I can already see how much of a difference you’ll make.”
The warmth in her voice settles the unrest inside me, helping me see I’ve made the right decision. “It’s a little scary,” I confess. “Stepping away from something that’s been my whole life. But I’m ready. It’s time for me to live a little differently. To take care of myself for a change.”
“And to chase those new dreams,” she says, her voice full of encouragement.
I nod, feeling the beginnings of a smile tugging at my lips. “Exactly.”
Her gaze softens, and for a moment, we just sit there, hands entwined, the gravity of the conversation hanging between us. “Thank you for trusting me with this,” she finally says. “I’ll make sure the world knows the real Liam Thompson—an honest fighter who never quits.”
Hearing her say that feels like the final puzzle piece clicking into place. Whatever comes next, I know I’m not facing it alone.
“When do you want to get started on the story?” Maggie asks me.
I take a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “Now. If you’re up for it.”
Her brows knit slightly, and she tilts her head. “You don’t want to hear what Jack and I have figured out about the leak?”
I shake my head, leaning back in my chair and meeting her gaze with determination. “We can deal with that tomorrow. Tonight, I want to focus on this. On telling my story. On finally getting it all out.”
Maggie studies me for a moment, then reaches into her purse and pulls out a small notepad and pen.
The action is deliberate, almost reverent, as if she understands the gravity of what’s about to happen.
“Okay,” she says softly, flipping open the notebook and clicking the pen. “Let’s start right now.”
I can’t help the small smile that tugs at my lips. Her readiness, her dedication—it reassures me that I’ve made the right choice. “From the beginning,” I say, the words carrying years of silence.
She nods, her blue eyes locking with mine, filled with a mixture of resolve and compassion. “From the beginning,” she repeats, her pen poised and ready.
And just like that, the walls I’ve spent years building start to come down. Word by word, piece by piece, I let her in.