Page 20

The morning light streamed through Amara's window, casting long shadows across the quiet room. She lay still, eyes open, replaying the events of the previous night in her mind. Every whispered word, every almost-kiss, every pang of longing that had filled the space between them—all of it lingered, bittersweet, like the ghost of something beautiful that had slipped through her fingers.

After what felt like hours, she finally pushed herself out of bed, taking a deep breath as she tried to shake the feeling that had been lodged in her chest since he walked away.

Liam's words echoed in her mind, stirring up a storm of emotions she didn't want to face.

But she knew she couldn't let herself get lost in them, not now. Not when the competition was so close.

With a new determination, she set out for the rink, her steps purposeful.

She'd spent so much time thinking about Liam, about the growing connection between them, that she had begun to lose focus on what mattered most—her skating, her dream. It was time to channel her energy back into herself, to use the hurt, the longing, and the disappointment as fuel to push forward.

When she arrived at the rink, the air was cold, the familiar chill wrapping around her like an old friend.

She slipped into her skates and stepped onto the ice, feeling the usual rush of clarity that came whenever she glided across the surface.

Here, she could let go of everything—every heartbreak, every doubt, every fear—and become one with the ice, pouring herself into the movements.

Amara took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and let herself drift.

She began with a few slow laps, her blades carving smooth, deliberate lines in the ice.

With each stroke, she felt herself shedding the weight of her emotions, letting the rink absorb her pain, her frustrations, and her lingering feelings for Liam.

Soon, she picked up speed, her movements growing bolder, more intense.

She spun and leaped, each move sharper, crisper, as if she were trying to skate away from her memories of him.

Every twist, every turn, every carefully practiced sequence was a reminder of who she was—someone with a purpose, someone with a dream.

Liam had entered her life unexpectedly, and though her heart still ached with the thought of him, she knew she couldn't let her feelings for him define her.

Amara threw herself into a triple axel, the move she'd been struggling with lately, her body twisting mid-air before she landed back on the ice with a solid thud. A flicker of satisfaction sparked within her, driving her to try again, her moves sharper, more confident, each one an outlet for the turmoil within her.

The hours passed in a blur of movement, sweat, and focus.

Her muscles burned, her breath came in sharp bursts, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.

She skated with a purpose that bordered on desperation, as though this were the only way she could make sense of everything that had happened, as though each leap and spin was a step toward finding herself again.

By the time she finally stopped, her chest was heaving, her legs trembling from exhaustion.

She bent over, catching her breath, letting the silence of the empty rink wash over her.

She was physically drained, but for the first time since Liam had pulled away, she felt a glimmer of clarity, of purpose.

Her coach, who had been watching from the sidelines, approached her, a look of approval mixed with curiosity. "You're pushing yourself harder than usual today. Everything alright?"

Amara straightened, managing a small, weary smile. "I'm fine," she replied, brushing a loose strand of hair back from her face. "Just... focused."

He gave her a knowing look, nodding slowly. "Good. Channel it into your performance. Use whatever's going on in here," he tapped a finger to his temple, "to push you further on the ice. I can see it—it's making you stronger."

She nodded, feeling a flicker of pride despite the lingering ache in her heart.

Maybe this was the way forward.

Maybe the only way to move on was to keep skating, to pour everything she felt into her training, her performance.

Liam had been a beautiful, unexpected chapter in her life, but she had to remember why she was here, what she had fought so hard for.

As she sat down to unlace her skates, her mind wandered back to Liam, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking about her too, if he felt the same ache of regret that was etched in her heart. But she pushed the thought away, reminding herself that she didn't need answers from him.

Not right now.

She was Amara Taylor, a skater with a dream, and she would not let her heart hold her back.

With one last glance at the empty rink, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight lift just a little more.