Chapter 3
June's POV
Jasper freezes, his lips moving like he wants to say something, but his eyes slide away.
So that's his answer.
"I'm tired. I want to sleep." I push open the bedroom door and shut whatever he didn't say out along with it.
Three days after the Grand Slam, the club holds a thank-you gala on the ice.
Tradition has it that every champion gets a special moment at the end of the show to say a few words.
Two weeks before the competition, Jasper held me on the couch and swore up and down. "June, at the end of the gala, I'm going to take your hand and skate the last lap of these seven years with you. Even if all you can do is go slow, I want everyone to know you're the most important woman in my life."
For that promise, I stayed up late for two straight weeks.
Those two weeks, I dug out the costume he wore seven years ago, the first time he competed at Junior Worlds.
The cuffs had worn thin with age. I mended it back to how it used to look, day after day, and even stitched the first letter of my name into the chest with hidden thread.
I also put together a scrapbook. I filled it with seven years of his train tickets, boarding passes, photos from every medal he'd won, and every skate design I'd ever sketched for him.
The day I finished, I kept thinking I'd hand him both things after the gala. A summary of our seven years. The start of something new.
Turns out that was only ever my own idea, start to finish.
Even so, the night of the gala, I still went to the arena holding on to one last thread of hope, carrying the paper bag with the costume and the scrapbook inside.
The place was packed. I sat near the entrance to the skater's tunnel.
Out on the ice, Jasper and Sadie were doing their final pairs performance.
They moved together flawlessly, every throw, every spin drawing gasps from the crowd.
The music ended, and the lights went down.
A single spotlight hit center ice, and Jasper picked up the mic.
My heart started racing. I got up slowly, ready to walk out onto the ice I hadn't touched in seven years.
"Standing here today, there's a lot I want to say." Jasper's voice carried through the arena. "These seven years, I've hit rock bottom and climbed back to the top. A lot of people ask me what got me through it."
"Trust." Jasper turned and looked at Sadie standing beside him. "My partner Sadie has given me nothing but unconditional trust. Today, I want to give this bouquet to her."
The whole arena erupted, and the step I'd just taken froze in place.
It was almost funny.
I'd actually walked in here still holding on to hope.
I looked down at the bag in my arms.
Forget it. Time to end this.
I held the bag tighter and turned to leave, but right then, Sadie, mid-bow to the crowd, let out a cry and pitched forward.
Her blade must have caught a dip in the ice. She went down hard, curling up in pain, clutching her ankle.
The whole arena gasped.
Jasper dropped the mic and lunged for her like a man possessed, scooping her into his arms. "Sadie! Are you okay? Someone get a doctor!"
In that moment, he forgot the cameras were still rolling, forgot the thousands of people watching, and forgot me standing at the tunnel entrance.
He scooped her up and ran for the medical room.
The spotlight sat alone on the empty ice.
I stood in the shadows, watching him go.
Seven years ago, when I got my leg crushed saving him, he panicked just like that.
Now, that panic belongs to someone else.
"June, Jasper might..." A young assistant standing nearby looked at me, unsure what to say.
"It's fine. The show's over." I said it calmly, then turned and walked back to the empty green room.
Jasper's jacket was tossed carelessly over a chair.
I walked over to the trash can and opened the bag in my hands.
I took out the costume and ran my fingers over the stitching hidden at the chest.
Then I picked up the scissors on the table and cut it in half without a second of hesitation.
The scraps of fabric dropped into the trash.
Next, I pulled out the thick scrapbook.
The first page was a photo of him holding my hand at my bedside, seven years ago.
The last page had a line I'd written myself: may my boy shine bright forever.
I flipped through every page, then closed it, tore it in half, and dropped it in the trash.
I took a cab back to the apartment and started packing, taking only what belonged to me.
In under an hour, there was nothing left in that place to prove I'd ever lived there.
Once everything was packed, I took one last look at the little home I'd once thought would be mine for good, then pulled out my phone and opened my chat with Jasper.
The last message on the screen was still from yesterday, me reminding him to take his stomach medicine.
"Jasper, I'm tired. Walk the rest of the way on your own."
I typed those words, then pushed the door open. The wind and snow outside had stopped, and the sun was out, bright and clear.
