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I sighed.
I knew that she still cried off and on—especially with me, but I never knew it was enough for someone new in her life to notice.
“I didn’t know about this,” I said, setting down the letters. “I honestly didn’t know.”
“Well, now you do.” She shrugged. “I’m sure as her best friend—well, boyfriend, that you’ll talk to her about it? Make her reconsider?”
She left the room without saying another word to me, and I pulled out my phone.
I was about to call Penelope, but she’d texted me first.
Penelope: Hey! I showed up at your office for a surprise lunch date, but you weren’t there. Where are you?
Penelope: Want to grab Italian and wine later tonight instead? I don’t know why I’m craving that for some reason.
Me: Sorry. Something important came up. I need a raincheck.
I left the roses and the wine on the table, then I returned to my car. I sped off towards my side of town with an agonizing ache in my chest.
I knew that there was a reason Penelope didn’t tell me about that damn letter and another reason why talking to her about it wouldn’t lead to her making the right decision.
I’d known her like the back of my hand for years, and there was only one way that she would chase twenty-eight again.
Thirty-Seven (B)
Present Day
Hayden
Me: Hey. I just heard that the IOC changed the rules for medals. The upcoming Olympic Winter Games will be the first to start awarding coaching medals alongside the athletes.
Penelope: Oh, wow. Really? I haven’t heard that at all! Interesting! (Are we still on for dinner tonight at Wardman’s?)
Me: Want me to email you the link? It looks like they’re training in a compound in Utah, similar to where you trained for Worlds that one summer.
Penelope: No, I’ll look it up later. And LOL yes! I remember that. I think you got kicked out for coming to see me. No outsiders allowed (smile emoji)
Me: I’m surprised that no one has reached out and asked you to be a part of the new change since you told me a lot of high-profile coaches have been banned recently.
Penelope: I’m not surprised. I’m not a coach, and I don’t really care about that stuff anymore, you know? I have 27. 28 was the dream, but—life.
Penelope: Are we still on for dinner at Wardman’s?
Me: No, Penelope. I’ll need a raincheck.
Thirty-Eight
Present Day
Penelope
“Look at that control as she goes up for a triple salchow and immediately into a—Wow! Penelope Carter lands a quad instead!”
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are watching a master of her craft, a woman who will go down as arguably the greatest female figure skater of all time.”
I lay on my couch and watched my final performance at Skate America.
Before the fall that ended it all.
“I agree Mary,” the third announcer said. “Look at the precision of her spin. I’m sure she’ll be notching the first place position here and continuing her ambitious chase for twenty-eight.”
“The most complex combo of her program—two quads with a triple lutz is coming up. Should she land this, she would be the first female singles skater to ever—”
I hit pause and stare at the freeze-frame of myself in mid-air—my arms high above my head as my glittering blue dress flies free.
To this day, I could never get past this part of the show.
It still hurt like hell.
Sighing, I clicked on my performance at the Sochi Olympics instead.
As I was taking to the ice, my doorbell sounded.
I grabbed a tip for the delivery guy, but when I opened the door, it wasn’t pizza.
It was Hayden.
“Hey.” I smiled.
“Hey.”
“I thought you were working on the final apology letters tonight.”
“I am,” he said. “I wanted to stop by before I started.”
“Come in.”
“I can’t.” He shook his head. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. I need some space, Penelope.”
His words hung in the air for several seconds.
“I don’t understand.” I crossed my arms. “You need space? For what?”
“It’s complicated.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I have the Tinder deposition coming up and I got hit with some new, silly headlines in the media this afternoon.”
“Whatever they are, I’m willing to help you like I did with the letters.”
“It’s not that easy.” He looked into my eyes. “I just need the space, Penelope.”
I stared at him in utter disbelief.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I said, crossing my arms. “You told me the other day that this was only our beginning. You also promised—repeatedly, that you wouldn’t fuck ‘us’ up.”
“That’s not what I’m doing at all. I’m doing what I think is best for you. Us.”
That “best for you” line made the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention; that was a line from Travis’s controlling playbook, not Hayden’s.
“Did you tell my brother about us or something?” I asked.
