Epilogue
AIMEE
The Winter Olympics
“Performing for the first time since her injury, in a special extended performance, Aimee Bryant —will fulfill her dream of skating on Olympic Ice.”
Unlike the last time I waited to skate out onto the ice, there were no butterflies.
There were no nerves.
The ice was pristine.
The IOC had instituted a new regulation after the accident.
If any skater or pairs had a jump heavy program, the ice was checked for knicks and any other hazards. No one else had suffered the same career ending injury I had, but it was a good precaution.
I hadn’t been sure I would ever skate again. And I knew that I would never skate Olympic ice or see those dreams fulfilled. It took a long time to come to terms with that, but I had, and I was okay. There were other dreams to dream and explore.
I smile at the memory of Lukas getting me to skate for the first time, and the weight that seemed to lift off my entire being at the feeling of gliding on that little rink at The Lodge.
Without him, I most definitely wouldn’t be here.
When the call came in, inviting me to perform at the Olympics, I’d initially turned them down.
Skating was a fun hobby with Lukas and Zara, and I was now more her cheerleader, with the occasional coaching on the side.
He was the one to convince me to do it, to chase the dream of touching my skates to Olympic Ice.
And here I was, staring out at the smooth ice, the flickering lights of the people in the stands, and the low hum of all their voices as they waited for me.
“How do you feel?”
I glanced at Brennan. He’d come with me—everyone had. But somehow, he was the one I had really wanted to come. Because if I was fulfilling this dream, then he needed to be there.
“Like I was born for this.”
His arms uncrossed and he put one around my shoulder, hugging me to his side. I leaned in gratefully. I wasn’t nervous and there were still no butterflies, but having him here with me…that felt right. He gave me another quick squeeze, I sucked in a deep breath, and then stepped out onto the ice.
The lights, the people, the voices—they all started to fade away like they had in the past, as the calm of the performance took over.
The closer to the center I moved, the quieter the world became.
For a moment, I could see Asher waiting for me, his legs were longer and he always reached his mark first, but then I blinked, and all I saw was empty ice.
I stopped dead center and breathed. This performance was unlike anything I’d seen done. Brennan and I had worked tirelessly to create it—to tell a story.
My story.
My story post-Asher.
The rink went totally silent as they waited. I breathed deeply, readying myself for the first note of the music. The lights in the rink went rosy, and the spotlight flicked on.
The piano started, and I shoved off, stepping on the picks of my skates—copying the lyrics before purposefully stumbling and falling.
I heard the gasp of the audience. I exaggerated my breathing, and pushed myself back to my feet, letting my skates carry me—making it seem like those first steps were painful.
I was bending, flowing, and skating backwards in winding patterns. I stopped and clutched my hands to my chest, acting, pleading…reaching.
I had loved him so much, and I portrayed that—reaching towards the figure coming out of the shadows as I started moving away.
Louis started skating, parallel to me, but all his moves were the opposite of mine.
I moved forward, he moved backwards. And then he reached, and I collided with him, and we spun together.
We went around and around. His hands caged me up my back, and mine were on either side of his face, and our foreheads were pressed together, eyes shut—like the embrace was painful, but necessary for our survival.
And then Louis let me go, and we fell apart, moving away—back to mirroring each other as we whipped around the ice.
I put everything into the yearning in my moves and expressions.
We skated around each other, pushing and pulling—taking elements from that final performance—as the voice sang about the breaking between two people in love, the pain and hurt that comes with it.
I picked up speed, twirling around Louis as he reached towards me.
I felt his fingers graze my side, before ripping himself away. This was the breaking of us, the hurt and betrayal I’d felt. I skated in the opposite direction, picking up speed and I knew Louis was matching me on the other side of the ice. We launched into a triple lutz.
We landed in tandem and raced back towards each other, grasping hands and while he leaned back, I dropped low, my body almost parallel to the ground as we spun.
When he pulled me back up, he held me close, and I pushed away, anger telegraphed in my movements, and we started a game of chase—him trying to catch me, and I would evade and push away.
We get to one end of the rink, and I leave him—launching myself to the other side, in rough, violent movements into a double lutz and when I knew that when I crossed that center mark, Louis was after me again, and I spun to meet his embrace - him on his knees having skidded over, and his head on my stomach, my arms around him, my head bent.
The piano notes changed, and that was my cue to let him go. Like we rehearsed, he stayed there until my back was turned and skated off. As the piano continued to play, I skated and wiped away pretend tears, and favored my one leg—not because it hurt, but for the story.
The silence that filled my head for weeks and months.
I collapsed to the ice, curling in a ball, and after a moment, I started to move. The dusty rose lighting slightly changed to something a bit darker, more blue and I crawled my way over the ice, struggling to get back on my feet—channeling all those emotions I'd felt for so long.
When I started skating, everything was sad - graceful and flowing, but every move weighed down with pain and sorrow. The failed double, the failed triple, the favoring of my knee, the helplessness that had plagued me.
As the music built, I started picking up speed, and I could feel the moment, I prepared for the quad—and right before the pinnacle of this program, I got ready to launch myself into the air, and I hit it dead on, and landed.
My hands on my head, my mouth open wide—a silent scream.
And then I was off, flying around the rink—triple, twizzle, spirals—all the tricks and things I’d spent years learning and mastering, I left them on the ice in that moment as I silently screamed everything I’d felt for years, before skidding to a stop in the center, letting the resignation of it all—the moment I’d found freedom on the ice again that day with Lukas—I let that fill me as I said goodbye to what I had with Asher.
Then, the piano notes changed again, and I skated.
I was floating across the ice, reaching and waving my hands through the air.
I spun, and then started racing around the edge, turning around to skate backwards as two more figures pulled from the shadows—Louis and Zara, wearing recreations of my and Asher’s outfits from that day.
They stayed in the middle of the rink, skating a version of that program we did.
I raced around them, watching them, letting the lyrics of this final song speak for themselves.
I moved in closer, reaching out and letting my outstretched hand brush over the two of them. They continued to skate and dance around each other, and I started to widen my circles as the lights started to dim.
This was arguably the trickiest part of the whole program. For almost a minute we would be skating in almost near darkness—the only dim light on me—Louis and Zara would exit the ice at that time. As the voice sang about how they thought the guy would be the one, the lights dimmed further.
The music started to pick up, and I started picking up speed again.
No crazy elements, but my loops around the rink started growing smaller, and I knew he’d be waiting for me at the center.
The lyrics repeated, and the lights came back on, just as I slid into Lukas’s embrace and his arms closed around me.
I stood there, wrapped in his hold, breathing heavily.
“You’re fucking stunning,” he whispered.
And then, the clapping started. It was a loud roar through the whole rink.
Lukas let me go, but not completely. He took ahold of my hand, and drew it into the air. My chest heaved and tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I had thought that I hadn’t needed this dream. I had thought that I would be okay without it.
“And that’s how you show the world why you were considered the best,” the same voice who had introduced me said.
“Can you imagine going through what Aimee went through, and then coming to the next Olympic games and giving arguably the best gold medal performance anyone could ever give?”
“If I were any of the skaters competing I would be thanking the stars I didn't have to skate after Aimee.”
I laughed, and wiped at the tears that had started falling. Lukas smiled down at me, and then drew me in, kissing the top of my head.
“You were brilliant,” he said into my hair.
I wrapped an arm around his waist and squeezed. I waved to the crowd, spinning around to wave at the other side of the crowd. And then together, Lukas and I skated over to where Brennan, Zara and Louis waited. Everyone else would meet up with us afterwards.
Brennan drew me into a tight hug, and I hugged him back. The tears fell in earnest with his arms around me.
“I’m so incredibly proud of you,” he said.
“I’m only as good as my coach,” I said, my voice muffled from his sweater and emotions.
He pulled back and looked in my eyes. “No, you were good before me. You made coaching you an absolute joy. And you put everything on the ice just now. That, Aimee Bryant isn’t an easy feat. They’ll be talking about that program for a long time.”
I laughed and wiped my eyes. I looked over at Louis and Zara.
“Thank you both for what you did out there.”
Zara squealed and pried me from Brennan’s embrace, capturing me in her own.
“I got to skate with the Aimee Bryant at the Olympics. I could literally die happy now,” she said.
“Hey, I don’t really want to find another new partner, so save the dying for after a medal and we’re officially done skating together.
I smiled at Louis, and he wrapped his arms around both Zara and I.
Lukas’s hands landed on my shoulders. “I think they want you to come back out on the ice.”
Untangling myself from my friends, I let Lukas pull me back out onto the ice. Official members of the IOC were standing on the ice, and I swallowed hard. An instrumental version of the music I’d just skated to was playing, and that same hush as before settled over the crowd.
“Aimee Bryant, on behalf of the International Olympic Committee and a popular vote among your peers, we would like to award you an Honorary Olympic Gold Medal.”
My breath caught in my throat, and my hands started to shake.
Lukas gave me a little push, and I moved towards the man holding the medal out.
I could barely breathe as I ducked down, and felt him move the ribbon over my head and settle it around my neck. I stood up, and they all smiled at me, and with shaky fingers I reached up and felt the cool metal. I looked down and a tear landed on the shiny surface.
When I looked back up, no words would come out. I just reached out and squeezed the man’s hand and he smiled and nodded. I didn’t have words, and when I spun around to show Lukas, a sob burst from me as I found him down on one knee, holding an open little black box in his hand.
“I haven’t even said anything, and you’re nodding.”
The laugh was part sob, but it didn’t matter. Lukas was down on one knee, proposing to me at the Olympics where I’ve been given an Honorary Gold Medal.
My chest rose and fell rapidly, and I wanted him to just—
“Will you marry me, Aimee?”
“Fucking took you long enough,” I choked out.
The moment he was standing, I threw myself at him.
He laughed, catching me, and again the crowd erupted in applause and cheers and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been happier in my entire life. I kissed him like I was starving, and when he pulled back, he brought my hand up between us, and slid the diamond over my finger and pressed a kiss to it.
“You’re stuck with me now, Mrs. Fraiser.”
“I really like the sound of that,” I said against his lips.
“Good, because I never plan on letting you go.”