Page 23

KATERINA

Pretending nothing happened is more challenging than I thought. But I do it anyway. The following day, I wake up, throw on my usual training gear, and show up at the rink like Aiden Knight hasn’t been invading my thoughts since the second he walked away from me last night. I don’t think about his voice in my ear, the way his presence suffocated me in the best, most infuriating way. I don’t think about how my body reacted to his words, how he knew exactly what he was doing, and how much he was getting to me. I shove it all down, tuck it into the darkest corner of my mind, and focus on the only thing that matters. Winning.

Training starts as usual. Alexei and I run through our warm-up, step sequences, and spins. My body is tired, still recovering from the night before, but I push through it. Everything is fine until Aiden shows up with Roman.

Aiden leans against the boards, arms crossed, watching me like he has every right to be here. His dark eyes scan the rink, his expression unreadable, but I can feel the tension radiating from him. He hasn’t said a word yet, but I can already tell he’s about to say something stupid. I grit my teeth, skating to a stop near Alexei, ignoring the way my pulse kicks up when Aiden pushes off the wall and takes a few slow steps closer to where I’ve stopped.

“What are you doing here, Knight?”

I ask, voice clipped. He smirks, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets.

“Watching.”

I roll my eyes, annoyed at his presence.

“Don’t you have hockey practice?”

I snap, avoiding eye contact.

“Don’t you have a routine to land?”

My jaw tightens at his comment. Alexei glances between us, amused but smart enough not to say anything. I scowl, turning away and ignoring him.

“Let’s go again,”

I tell Alexei. I push off, moving through our following sequence, doing everything I can to pretend Aiden isn’t standing there, burning holes into me with his stare. And for a while, it works until the throw.

Alexei’s grip is perfect; his strength is precisely where it needs to be as he launches me into the air. It should be flawless. It should be routine, but something isn’t right. Maybe it’s the exhaustion. Perhaps it’s the tension thrumming beneath my skin. Maybe it’s the fact that my mind hasn’t been as clear as I thought it was.

Either way—I fall.

It happens fast. Too fast. One second, I’m rotating through the air, everything precise and controlled, and the next—

Pain. I slam into the ice, my left shoulder taking the full force of the impact. It's the same shoulder that keeps bugging me. A sickening snap rings in my ears. Sharp. Deep. Wrong. Gasps ripple through the rink, but I barely hear them. All I hear is the roaring in my ears. The way my breath comes too fast, too shallow. My shoulder—

Something is wrong with my shoulder. Alexei kneels beside me, hands hovering near me but not touching.

“Kat,”

he says, voice tight. “Are you okay?”

No. I am not okay. But I force a breath out, gritting my teeth against the pain. “I—”

And then, he’s there. Aiden.

The sight of him standing over me is the final straw. “Stay away,”

I snap before he can even say anything. Aiden freezes, his eyes narrowing.

“Kat—”

“I said stay away.”

His jaw clenches, but I don’t care. I can’t care. Not when my shoulder is screaming in pain. Not when reality sets in— I might have just lost my shot at gold. Tears burn the back of my eyes, but I blink them away, swallowing the lump in my throat. Alexei helps me sit up his face pinched with concern.

“We need to get you checked out.”

I nod stiffly, refusing to look at Aiden and acknowledge that he’s still standing there, still watching me, like he wants to fix something he has no business fixing. This is my battle. My career. My life. And if I lost everything I’ve been working for, the last thing I need is Aiden Knight acting like he cares.

I don’t even remember the drive to the hospital. Alina and Alexei came with me, but their voices blurred into the background the second we arrived. The doctor confirmed what I already knew deep down. Rotator cuff tear. Not a large one. But small enough to need surgery long enough to keep me off the ice for at least three months. The moment they tell me, I refuse to believe it. I don’t cry. I don’t break down in front of everyone. I just sit there, fists clenched, nails digging into my palm as reality crushes me. I have four months until the next qualifier. And I won’t even be able to skate for the next three.

I feel like I can’t breathe. Alina tries to talk to me, but I barely hear her. She and Alexei eventually leave to grab food, giving me space, and for the first time, I’m entirely alone. Until I’m not. A shadow shifts outside the doorway. My stomach twists painfully as I look at him.

Aiden.

I should have known he’d show up. He doesn’t step inside. Doesn’t say a word. He just stands there, watching me, hands shoved in his pockets, expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of us moves. Then Alina’s voice rings from down the hall. “What are you doing here?”

Aiden doesn’t look at her. His eyes stay on me. Alina approaches him and says something I can’t hear while he nods. I should tell him to leave. I should tell him he has no reason to be here. But I don’t. I don’t speak. I feel too weak. I just look outside of the hospital window.

Aiden looks at me again and walks out the door without saying anything. And for the first time since I fell, I felt something other than pain.

Something worse that I don’t want to name. Because the truth is, I don’t know what hurts more—my shoulder or ignoring Aiden.