I feel a rush of pure joy and a ballooning sense that everything is right in the world. This moment? It’s better than a perfectly stuck landing. It’s sweeter than the view from the top of the medal podium.

“I love you, too,” I say.

I know I’ve never stopped. This time, I’m not self-conscious to voice how I really feel. Suddenly, the significance of where we happen to be standing hits me, and I can’t help but laugh.

“What?” he asks.

“Do you remember our first conversation?” I ask.

“The night I called you about coaching at Summit?” he guesses.

“No, think—the very first time we ever spoke,” I prompt.

His eyes light up. “It was Nationals. I asked if you knew where the vending machine was.”

I smirk and lean back against this current vending machine, fingers dancing over his chest.

“Here we are,” he marvels.

Part 10. July 2020

JULY

2020

Epilogue

• EPILOGUE •

It’s competition day in Tokyo. I gasp when I enter the arena for the first time; the space is larger and flashier than anywhere I’ve ever competed, and handmade signs written in multiple languages wave in the crowd. Cameras capture every angle.

Hallie and the rest of the Fantastic Four warm up for the competition’s first rotation. They’re resplendent in matching royal blue leotards, and they work with an efficient, upbeat energy. Even though the stakes are higher today than ever before, everyone seems just so plain happy to be here. Hallie’s on floor first.

While the gymnasts get ready to compete, I stand on the sidelines with Ryan. We flew to Tokyo a few days early so Hallie could prep for the competition while adjusting to the fourteen-hour time difference, and though we’ve been working a lot, there’s also been just enough downtime to sneak out together on dates. The sushi dinner, sumo match, and Zen garden visit were amazing, but truthfully, we could’ve had just as much fun sitting in the supply closet at Summit. Since we got back together at Trials, I’ve felt so at peace. We’ve decided to keep our relationship private until after the Olympics.

A competition official signals to Hallie that she has time for one more tumbling pass, and then the warm-up will be over. Hallie nods, and I watch as she launches into a high-powered, tight double Arabian with a cleanly stuck landing. I shake my head in awe.

“Today’s going to be a good day,” I predict. “I can feel it.”

“Me, too,” Ryan says. He watches me studying Hallie on floor, then asks quietly, “Do you wish it were you out there?”