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Only Ever You

Page 190

by Anastasija White

She did it. She earned this win.

And she’s everything.

She’s my entire world.

My universe.

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

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ISLA

Twenty-three years old

The medal is heavier than I expected, or maybe it’s the weight of the moment still settled on my shoulders. I don’t know. My mind is all over the place. Minutes ago, I was standing on a pedestal while the national anthem played, surrounded by the skaters I’ve looked up to for years. Ogawa took silver, and Sokolova won bronze.

Both were amazing. As I watched them skate, I was certain one of them would win. But then, I remembered the words Michael spoke to me while we waited for my flight to Stockholm, and I adjusted my frame of mind.

Don’t forget who you are, he told me. You’ve put in the work, Isla. Years and years of hard work and dedication. You have everything you need to win gold. His thumb brushed my cheek, and I closed my eyes, soaking in the feel of his skin on mine. Just believe in yourself the way I believe in you. And trust me, baby—you’re unstoppable.

Michael gave me the strength to push all my doubts and worries aside, to step onto the ice as if I’d already won. There was no way I could watch his game today, but Elena checked the score for me, and when she told me he’d scored a hat trick and the Phantoms won, it only gave me more motivation to give this my all.

I won Olympic gold while “Euclid” played through the speakers of the arena. The song he helped me choose. The song whose every word reminds me of us.

Voices grow louder as I round the corner. Then, cameras flash, blinding me, and several people call my name. Before I can make sense of what anyone is saying, I’m being ushered into the press area.

“How does it feel to finally stand on the top step?” one journalist asks.

“Was this the skate of your life?” another one asks, holding the microphone out to me.

“What’s changed for you since the Olympics four years ago? You placed fifth at nineteen, and here you are at twenty-three, earning gold.”

Wow, talk about being bombarded with questions.

With a smile on my face, I answer one journalist at a time. Then, I thank my team and Elena for always believing in me and helping me achieve my wildest dreams. I thank my parents for their unyielding love and support next, my heart galloping, my body humming with the energy flowing through my veins.

A journalist with microphone labeled as an American broadcast television network leans forward, his voice loud enough to cut through the noise.

“There’s a rumor that congratulations are in order for more than just your Olympic gold,” he says with a grin. “Is it true you recently got married?”

My ears ring, the silence in the room eerie. For two heartbeats, no one speaks, and no one moves. Then, an explosion of sound reverberates off the walls. Voices rise. Heads snap in my direction. Someone actually gasps.

I blink once. “What?”

“Michael Thompson scored a hat trick against the current Cup holder and led his team to a win,” the journalist says. “Then, he refused to speak to the press because he wanted to watch his wife skate. That’s a level of dedication we don’t often see from athletes in any sport.”

Heat rushes to my face as his words register. They really know about our marriage. Michael skipped the interviews. For me.

For half a second, I consider denying it, just to buy myself some time. Instead, I smile and nod.

“Thank you,” I say calmly. “My husband is an incredibly dedicated athlete. He lives and breathes hockey.” Straightening, I lift my chin. “I’m proud of everything he’s accomplished so far, and I’ll always support him in everything he does, just like he supports me.”

The group breaks into more questions, but I’m done for today. I have two very important people waiting for me, and there’s a call I’m dying to make.

“That’s all for today,” I say firmly, stepping back. “Thank you all so much.”

Before anyone can stop me, I’m gone.