Page 12

As the days passed, Amara couldn't shake the growing warmth that settled in her chest whenever she thought of Liam. His presence had become a comforting constant in her life, a source of stability and encouragement. He was more than just a spectator at the rink or a quiet supporter in the background—he was someone she admired, someone whose opinion mattered to her in ways she was only beginning to understand.

But as much as she tried to brush it off, an uncomfortable truth started to creep into her thoughts: her admiration for him was shifting, deepening into something that felt far more vulnerable and risky.

She found herself wondering what it would be like to have him close, to confide in him fully, to share the quiet, unguarded moments she'd always kept to herself. The thought sent her pulse racing, filling her with equal parts excitement and apprehension.

One evening, after a particularly intense practice session, she found herself sitting alone in the empty rink, staring out at the ice, her mind swirling with emotions she couldn't name. It was strange, this feeling—she'd always prided herself on her independence, on her ability to face challenges alone.

But with Liam, she felt something new, something that scared her as much as it thrilled her.

He'd seen her at her worst, yet he'd stayed by her side, offering advice and encouragement without ever asking for anything in return.

And the more she thought about it, the more she realized just how rare that was.

She'd been surrounded by people who either wanted to take from her or push her down, but Liam was different. He wanted her to succeed, to believe in herself, and she couldn't ignore the way that made her feel.

But the idea of letting herself fall for him felt impossible, even reckless.

She was just a figure skater, someone who'd spent her life on the edge of financial stability, scraping by to pursue her dream. Liam, on the other hand, was a successful entrepreneur, someone who belonged to a world she'd only seen from a distance.

He moved through life with a confidence and ease that both inspired and intimidated her.

She couldn't imagine herself fitting into that world, couldn't picture how someone like him would ever look at her with anything more than friendship or respect.

"What am I even thinking?" she muttered to herself, frustration bubbling up as she wrapped her arms around her knees.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the rink, and she turned, startled, to see Liam approaching. He was carrying a thermos and a familiar, easy smile.

"Thought you could use some tea," he said, holding out the thermos.

She took it, grateful for the warmth in her hands, and forced herself to smile. "Thanks, Liam. You really do think of everything, don't you?"

He shrugged, taking a seat on the bleachers beside her. "I guess I just pay attention."

They sat in silence for a moment, sipping their tea, the quiet settling between them in a way that felt strangely comfortable. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, watching the way he seemed at ease, his gaze focused on the empty rink.

"You seem... distracted," he said eventually, his tone gentle.

She looked down, her fingers fidgeting with the thermos cap. "I guess I am. Just a lot on my mind lately."

He nodded, waiting patiently, giving her the space to speak without pushing. She took a deep breath, her heart pounding as she debated whether to let him in, to give him a glimpse of the thoughts she'd been wrestling with.

"I... I don't know if I belong in this world," she admitted softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "All these competitions, the pressure, the expectations... it's exhausting."

Liam looked at her, his gaze steady. "Amara, you're stronger than you give yourself credit for. You've worked so hard to get here. Don't doubt yourself just because it feels difficult."

She shook her head, biting her lip. "It's not just that. Sometimes I feel like I don't even know where I fit. I'm just... a skater. This is all I have. People like you, with your success, your world... I don't know if I could ever measure up."

For a moment, he was silent, and she felt a wave of embarrassment, wondering if she'd said too much, if she'd exposed too much of her insecurity. But then he reached out, his hand resting on hers in a gesture that was both comforting and electrifying.

"Amara," he said, his voice soft but firm, "you are so much more than just a skater. I admire you not because of what you do, but because of who you are. You have a resilience that most people only dream of, a dedication that's rare. And that's worth far more than any business deal or title."

She looked up at him, her heart caught in her throat as his words settled over her. The tenderness in his gaze was undeniable, and for a brief, dizzying moment, she wondered if he could see through her defenses, if he knew just how much he'd come to mean to her.

But just as quickly, doubt crept in, and she pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around herself as if to shield herself from the feelings threatening to overwhelm her.

"Liam, I don't know if I'm... good enough for this," she said, her voice wavering. "For any of it. The competition, this—" she gestured between them, the unspoken connection she couldn't ignore.

He reached out, gently tilting her chin so she would meet his gaze. "You are enough, Amara. And if you let yourself believe that, I think you'll find there's nothing you can't do."

Her heart swelled, torn between the desire to believe him and the fear of letting herself be vulnerable. She wanted to trust his words, to let herself imagine a future where they could be more than friends, where she didn't have to hide her feelings or downplay her worth.

But the fear lingered, a stubborn reminder of the risks that came with falling for someone like Liam. She knew how much she had to lose, how much she'd risk if she let herself give in to these emotions.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "For everything."

He nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he stood. "Anytime, Amara."

As he walked away, she watched him go, feeling the ache of unspoken words, the weight of her own hesitation.

She didn't know what would come next, or if she'd ever find the courage to tell him how she truly felt.

But as she sat there, alone in the empty rink, she knew one thing for certain: her feelings for Liam weren't just admiration or friendship. They were something deeper, something that scared her as much as it thrilled her.

And for the first time, she allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to let go of her fears and embrace the possibility of love—knowing that if she ever did, she would be risking her heart in ways she'd never dared before.