“And this isn’t just about me. You have a great job and a great life, but I know you want more. I bet you’ve been lonely. That’s why you jumped into a relationship right after retiring from gymnastics. That’s why you flirt with me, even when you say you know better. I know what it’s like to want a real connection and not find it, and it’s awful.”

Ryan is still just inches away. I take in the soft, dark depths of his eyes, the faint scar over his eyebrow, the smattering of stubble along his jaw, his tensed, broad shoulders. He swallows.

“You’re right,” he says quietly, not breaking my gaze. “About all of it.”

“Okay…” I say, feeling hopeful, though not secure enough to relax just yet.

“I’m just not sure that’s enough,” he says. “Not when there’s so much at stake. As long as we’re responsible for Hallie, she comes first. There can’t be any distractions.”

Distractions. The word reverberates uncomfortably and settles into the pit of my stomach. That’s what I’d be: a distraction. I can’t look at him. I’m not a monster—I don’t want my love life to stand in the way of Hallie’s shot at Olympic glory. But I don’t think it’s quite that simple. She would never need to know. I fiddle with the zipper of my jacket.

“Look, I’m not saying no to this. To us,” he says, reaching out to tuck a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “I’m just saying we need to think carefully here, because the Olympics are right around the corner. And you, more than anyone, can understand how devastated Hallie would be if she doesn’t make it.”

I’m sure Ryan didn’t mean to do it, but linking my feelings for him now to the depression I felt years ago just crushes me. It’s cruel.

“I have to go,” I mutter, blinking back tears.

Ryan doesn’t protest as I head back inside.

Part 5. February 2020

FEBRUARY

2020

Chapter 13

• CHAPTER 13 •

“Do you have a boyfriend?” Hallie asks at practice a week later.

I hold her feet as she dangles her upper body off the back of the vault, then muscles her way up into a sitting position. Her abs swell in size by the second.

“What?” I spit out, caught off guard.

I’m very careful to resist the urge to peek across the gym at Ryan. In fact, I’ve spent the majority of the past week avoiding him, because it’s painful enough to replay our awful last conversation in my head every night before I fall asleep. I don’t want to have to relive it in his presence, too.

“I asked if you had a boyfriend,” she repeats, finishing another rep of crunches.