Page 1 of My Last Dance

FIRST PERIOD

1. THE WORST DAY – APRIL 12, 2025

Breathing hard and grinning like crazy at each other, Patrick grabbed my hand, twirled me into him, then dropped me down into a dramatic dip, matching the last beat of our program music.

Applause filled our ears, but Patrick and I stayed frozen in our ending pose for an extra couple of seconds, absorbing the moment, absorbing the fact that weabsolutely killed it.We were taking home another Grand Prix gold, I could feel it.

Patrick pulled me out of our pose and grabbed me up into a tight hug, picking my skates off the ice and squeezing my back. “We did it, P,” he whispered into the crook of my neck. “We came back stronger than ever. I think that was our best yet.”

I nodded against him, my face hurting from smiling so hard. “We did.”

Placing me back on my skates with a knowing grin, Patrick held my hand and spun me around to face the crowd.

Waving graciously and smoothing into a bow, I snuck a glance at Patrick, and the excitement on his face filled me with intense relief.

Here’s the thing—IknewPatrick would be happy if he listened to me and continued competing instead of retiring, but there was still a tiny part of me, maybe like five percent of me, that was nervous Iwas wrong.

Turns out, I never should’ve doubted myself.

We just neededone more shotat the Olympics and then we’d get our gold.

Two years ago in Beijing, nerves got the best of us. After the free dance, we slipped to fourth place, just a couple points shy of the podium. Initially, the results were devastating, especially considering that we didnotskate our best. I let myself dwell for a couple of dark days, but then I jumped straight into plotting and planning our next four years.

Patrick and I were smarter, calmer, and stronger now. We could really do this. We just needed one more chance.

Facing the last section of the crowd, so much excited energy coursed through my veins that I couldn’t help it, I threw my fist up and shouted, “Yes!”

The crowd went wild. I knew the judges weren’t too fond of showing any emotion, but I couldn’t—

“Couldn’t help it, could ya?” Patrick let out a wry chuckle. We’d been skating together so long that we could practically read each other’s minds.

I spun into him again and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I don’t know how you can! We killed it, Patrick.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said with a grin. Still holding me tight in his arms, he started gliding us off the ice.

Laughing into his chest, I said, “We’ll never beat the dating allegations now.”

“Eh, I could do worse.” He gave me a little wink before dropping a kiss on my hair.

“Now apublickiss?” I asked, acting aghast. “So scandalous, Patrick.” I lovingly smoothed a hand over the faded freckles on his cheek, playing up our romantic bit for the crowd.

“Oh, shut up,” he joked, an amused grin tugging at his lips.

He washappy.

Genuinely happy.

And that made me wanna do a happy dance right then and there in front of the entire crowd.

Patrick gently dropped me to my skates right in front of the opening in the boards where our coaches were waiting for us. Michelle, with her slicked back bun and smart blazer, was giving a dazzling smile to the camera. Her husband, Luka, decked out in adesigner plaid suit and wearing an Italian hat over his bald head, shot us a thumbs up.

A Cheshire cat smile spread on Michelle’s face as we smoothed off the ice. “You guys nailed it. Great work,” she said, which was high praise for her. She rarely handed out compliments. She usually took the “bad cop” coach approach, opposite of Luka, who was always feeding us bubbly encouragement.

Luka pulled us in for a hug and planted enthusiastic kisses on both our cheeks. “Fantastic.”

Michelle handed us our skate guards so we could walk up to the kiss-and-cry booth for our scores.

Up in the booth, Patrick and I automatically took our usual places beside each other. We were used to this. Throughout our career, we’d sat in similar booths all over the world together.

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