Page 7 of My Last Dance

Their eyes darted to the ground while they mumbled out their lame apologies.

Kappy turned to me then, a forlorn expression lining his dark features.

Feeling like a cornered cat, I shook my head at him, speechless. Before he could say anything at all, I bolted.

Because here’s the thing: I could take Kappy’s frustration, his flirting, his jealousy, even his teasing jabs. I was used to thoseemotions from him—Iwas usually the one pushing him into those emotions.

What I couldn’t take from him was pity.

And that’sexactlyhow he was feeling when I walked away from him without looking back.

Maybe Patrick was right…

Maybe we needed a break from this place.

3. THE NEW WORST DAY – JUNE 12, 2025

I thought the Grand Prix was my worst day of the year, I didn’t realize that was just the beginning of a string of bad days, badweeks, more like it.

And tonight was the bottom of the barrel—maybe, hopefully, because I couldn’t stomach it if things got worse than this.

“It’s really over, isn’t it?” I asked Patrick over our candle-lit table, making him grimace. The lighting made his auburn hair and scruff appear a deeper orange color.

After working together here in Montreal for two whole fucking months, Patrick finally told me that he couldn’t take it anymore.

Patrick took a slow sip of his amber-colored drink. People around us probably thought we were a couple breaking up, not skating partners. Honestly, we probably would’ve become a romantic couple at some point if Patrick wasn’t gay because we’d been best friends since we were nine and ten years old. I knew him better than anyone else on this planet.

The two of us had been through everything together. As a kid, I moved to Montreal to skate with him. As teens, we moved to Michigan to train under better coaches. As adults, we’d lived in fivedifferent cities together. We traveled the country, the world, competing together. As the only daughter of divorced hotel moguls, everything in my life was always shifting and changing. I never had a real home like he did, but I was always welcomed in his home with his parents and his two older brothers.

Patrick was the one constant in my life, the one person I could always count on.

“It was our dream to get the gold, I don’t want to do it without you,” I said, feeling like my throat was closing up.

He reached for my hand over the table and gave me an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

This was really it.

He was quitting on me.

Intense anger flared to life in my chest. Without even thinking, I grasped my water glass and flung the contents at him.

Patrick blinked as the water dripped down his face.

I gasped at my own actions. I couldn’t believe I just did that. It’s like an angry monster just possessed me.What the hell was wrong with me?IlovedPatrick, I didn’t want him mad at me.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, feeling the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant on us. “I didn’t mean to.” I shook my head.

I was scared, no,terrified,that he’d hate me and never want to speak to me again. But then, a laugh popped out of him as he unrolled his silverware for the cloth napkin. “Yeah, you did. I deserved that.”

My shoulders dropped. “This is why we’re perfect for each other,” I whined, throwing my elbows up on the table to hold my head. “You understand me.” He understood my theatrics because he knew they were coming from a place of hurt or a place of wanting us to improve. Still, I shouldn’t have done that. “I really am sorry,” I added sheepishly.

“I know you are.” He laughed as he dabbed his face dry. “I’m going to miss you, P.”

My chin quivered. “I don’t want to miss you, Patrick. I don’t want anything to change.”

He gave me a gentle smile. “Change is the one thing we canalwayscount on happening, P. We can’t skate forever.”

Tears pricked the back of my eyes, but I quickly blinked them away. “Not forever, just until February, just until the Olympics. Only, like, nine more months, Patrick. I can’t do this without you.This isourdream. I don’t want to skate with anyone else. It won’t be the same.”

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