Page 27

As the city skyline came into view, Amara felt a slight pang of anxiety.

The peaceful days spent at the cabin, just the two of them under the stars, felt like a dream—a beautiful one.

But now, returning to reality, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of dread about the demands of their respective worlds and the inevitable challenges awaiting them.

When Liam pulled up to her apartment, he glanced over, reading her expression easily. "You don't have to worry," he said softly. "Whatever comes, we'll face it together."

She nodded, grateful for his words but still feeling the weight of uncertainty. "I just... need to make sure I stay focused on my skating. The competition is coming up fast, and I need to be ready."

Liam looked at her with understanding, but there was a glint of worry in his eyes. "I get it. I don't want to take that from you. But remember, you don't have to do this alone, Amara. I'm here. Even if things get... difficult."

Amara took a deep breath, forcing a reassuring smile. She wanted to believe that they could navigate this new path together without getting lost in the noise. But part of her still feared what that noise might do to them.

They parted ways, and she returned to her familiar routine at the rink.

But the escape she once found there was no longer as pure.

Everywhere she turned, she felt eyes on her—watchful, curious, and sometimes disapproving.

Even her coach seemed wary, his usual focus on her technique now tinged with something else, something cautious.

A few days later, she was wrapping up an intense training session, wiping the sweat from her brow as she skated to the side of the rink. Her coach approached her, looking as though he had something on his mind.

"Amara, a word?" His tone was calm, but there was a hint of concern that made her stomach twist.

She nodded, slipping off her skates and joining him by the bleachers. He looked at her for a moment, as if trying to find the right words. "I just wanted to remind you that distractions—especially now—can be... well, dangerous for your focus."

Amara bristled, understanding what he was implying without him having to say it. "You think I'm distracted?" she asked, keeping her tone even, though the words felt like a challenge.

He sighed. "I know how much this means to you, Amara. And you're one of the most talented skaters I've ever coached. But this is an important time in your career. The spotlight is a difficult place to be, especially when there's... personal attention involved. You have a lot of eyes on you."

Amara wanted to defend herself, to say that Liam wasn't just some "distraction." But she bit her tongue, realizing that defending him wouldn't make a difference in her coach's eyes. To him, Liam was just another wealthy man, one who might only complicate things for her.

Later that evening, as she returned home, the doubts that had been lurking at the back of her mind now pushed their way forward.

Was she letting herself become a public spectacle?

Was her focus on skating slipping because of her relationship with Liam?

She sank onto her couch, staring at her phone, wondering if she should talk to him about it—or if bringing it up would only make things more complicated.

Almost as if he sensed her thoughts, her phone buzzed. It was a message from Liam.

"How was practice? I know things are intense, but I hope you know you're incredible. I'm proud of you, Amara. Let me know if you need anything."

She read the words over and over, a lump forming in her throat.

No matter how much the world around them seemed to doubt or question their relationship, Liam's words reminded her why she had chosen to be with him. He believed in her, supported her, even if it meant watching her from the sidelines as she pursued her dreams.

"Thanks, Liam," she typed back, her fingers hovering over the screen as she considered what to say next. She wanted to share everything—her coach's warning, the nagging fears that crept into her mind whenever she thought of their future. But in the end, she settled on something simpler.

"You'll be there at the competition, right?"

"Of course," he replied almost instantly. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

His words brought a wave of calm, and she took a deep breath, finally feeling a little lighter.

Yes, things were complicated, and yes, the scrutiny was unnerving.

But she wasn't alone in this. For the first time in her life, she didn't have to carry the weight of her dreams and fears all by herself.

In the following days, she poured her energy into her training, ignoring the whispers and focusing on every movement, every turn and jump, every note of her routine's music. She would make it through this—stronger, sharper, and even more determined. And when the time came, she knew that no matter what, she could look out into the crowd and see him there, a constant amidst the noise and lights.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough.