Edge of Glory

by Rachel Spangler

  “Do you think you’re really different now?” Holly asked.

  “Of course I do,” Corey fought off a little pang of hurt that Holly would question her, too. “I’m training harder than ever. I’m surrounding myself with good people and serious athletes, not playgirls or party boys. And I’ve tried to do right by Elise, to honor her schedule and respect her dreams. I haven’t even looked at another woman for seven months, and I haven’t touched anyone else since long before that. I’m not the person the press keeps painting me as, and I’m tired of trying to convince other people of that. Fuck it, maybe I’m tired of everything.”

  “Have you told Elise any of what you just told me?”

  “No,” Corey said quickly. “I have to stay upbeat for her. She’s already juggling so much. Did you know her dad actually threatened to come down here and handle things? Like she’s fourteen or something.”

  “Yeah, at least Mom and Dad learned their lesson about traveling with us the first time they watched you sleep your way through the athletes’ village.”

  Corey grimaced, another thing she couldn’t take back no matter how much she wanted to. “I’ve made my mistakes. That’s why we’re in this mess, but this is Elise’s big moment. She doesn’t need me piling all my stress on top of hers.”

  “What about your big moment? In case you’ve forgotten, you’re competing at these Olympics, too.”

  “It’s not the same situation.”

  Holly flicked her ear, hard.

  “Ouch, what was that for?”

  “Because it’s exactly the same situation. You and Elise are both Olympic athletes. You’ve both worked extremely hard to get here. You both have events this week. You’re both under the same pressure on your respective courses, and you’re both getting grilled by the press. Why are you the only one bending over backwards to make sure she gets what she needs?”

  “I want to take care of her,” Corey said, the familiar tightness returning to her chest at the thought of Elise hurt or under attack. “I wish I could protect her from everything, physically and emotionally. I want her to have everything she wants, everything she cares about.”

  “But does she want the same thing for you?”

  “I’m sure she does,” Corey said quickly, too quickly to let herself consider the question.

  “Are you, Core? Don’t get me wrong. I think she likes you a lot, but if she sees your career and feelings as important as hers, why are you the one making all the concessions?” Holly pressed, a steely glint firing in her eyes. “Why have you always been the one to change your plans for her? Why do you have to bite your tongue or dodge the topics that make her uncomfortable? Why do her stress levels matter more than yours? Why—?”

  “Okay, okay. I get the point.”

  “I’m not sure you do,” Holly said. “Your name’s taking a beating in the press, and it’s killing me, because I do know how much you’ve changed. But they act like you seduced her, when I know for a fact you never pushed her. Why’s she letting you take the fall?”

  “She offered to make a statement,” Corey said weakly. “I told her no.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s different for her. You don’t understand. She has to win. She has to be the best.”

  “That’s all well and good on the slopes, but it’s not how relationships work.” Holly’s voice softened, and she stroked Corey’s hair. “It can’t be about what one person needs. Everyone has needs, all the time, and for someone as driven as Elise, it’s always going to be something, a gold medal, a world championship, a world record. You can’t keep taking a backseat to her dreams. Even if you’re willing to, she shouldn’t let you.”

  “But, but I think . . . I’m in . . .” Corey’s emotions welled up, making it hard to get the word out. “In love with her.”

  “Oh, Core.” Holly laughed, then dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Of all the women in all the world at all the times, you had to pick this one? Right now?”

  “I didn’t mean to. I can’t help it.”

  “I know,” Holly whispered. “You’ve never done anything the easy way, and I admire that about you. I wish I knew for sure she was worthy of you.”

  Corey groaned. “All the newspapers make it clear she’s out of my league.”

  “No. You said so yourself, those so-called reporters don’t know you. You’re strong and kind and loyal to a fault, which scares me, because I’m not sure Elise shares that quality.”

  “I’m sure she does.”

  “I hope so. I hope I’m wrong, but I think you’re afraid she won’t stand by you when things get rough. You’re worried if it comes down to you or taking the gold medal, she’ll choose the race. And you deserve better, Core. You can’t give your everything to a woman who only wants you when she’s winning.”

  She stared at the smooth, white ceiling of the rented cabin until she couldn’t focus on even that anymore, then she closed her eyes, wishing she could close her brain for a while, too. She needed to slow down. She needed to back up. She needed time and space to deal with all the questions Holly’d asked and the emotions they stirred in her, but time was not her ally, and it hadn’t been for a long time. Maybe of all the different stresses and pressures pushing down on her now, that one bothered her the most. No matter what she did or how fast she went, she couldn’t manage to shake the feeling she was running out of time.

  Chapter 17

  “Elise, Elise, Ms. Brandeis.” The reporters mobbed her as they approached the athletes-only area of the downhill course.

  “How long have you been with Corey LaCroix?”

  “Are you monogamous?”

  “How do you feel about Corey’s past Olympic record with women?”

  Thankfully they’d been prepared for the barrage and braced themselves before even leaving the house. Elise flipped up the collar to her heavy, down coat as security parted the crowd to let her through the competitors’ gate. The constant assault of cameras and questions had followed them both to practice for the past few days. Elise’s nerves were fried, but she hoped she could turn all that frustration into focus.

  She flashed her credentials and pushed through the final security checkpoint with Paolo by her side.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Fine,” she lied, and cut the most direct path to the tent where the equipment had been delivered.

  “If you want to talk about anything, now’s the time to do it.”

  “No, now’s the time to focus on my race.”

  “Right,” he agreed. “You can’t drag any baggage onto the course with you. Time to check them, right here.”

  “I checked them before I left the house,” she said, and for the most part she had. She’d kissed Corey goodbye and smiled when she’d told her to have fun out there. They’d kept the tone studiously light, like every other conversation they’d had for the past few days. They didn’t mention the press, or the phone calls from sponsors, or emails from team USA officials. They didn’t talk about what would happen after the race or after the Olympics. Everyone gave them a wide berth and seemed happy to join in their charade as they both play-acted at normalcy.

  And yet, nothing had been normal. Nikki and her family had made themselves scarce, as they probably regretted the decision to share space by now. Nate worked extra hours under the guise of studying tape and course specs. Holly answered phone calls only outside, even with the temperature well below freezing. And Corey’s jokes grew flat, her eyes distant, and her touch tentative. Even their kiss before parting ways this morning had felt uncertain. More than once Elise had noticed her staring off into space or pacing the back patio like a caged lion. Was she afraid of the future? Did they even have one?

  “You need to get ready,” Paolo finally said.

  She blinked a few times and glanced around, reminding herself of where she was.

  The Olympics.

  Everything she’d worked for. Every bead of sweat, every tear shed in pain or frustration, every extra workout
, every ice bath, every nightmare she’d wrestled into a dream led her to this moment. Why was she standing atop the most important course she’d ever run fixating on whether or not Corey wanted to be with her three months from now?

  She roughly pulled on her racing suit and fastened her helmet. She couldn’t afford any distractions. Her whole life had built up to today’s race. Her body was as fit as ever, and she’d worked this course repeatedly, running it during the day, watching film in the evenings, and dreaming about it at night until she could’ve skied it in the dark. She picked up her skis from the tech and ran her fingertips over the bindings before visually inspecting the wax job. Everything met her standards, so she stepped into her boots and tightened them to her minute specifications. Then she stomped into the bindings and slid a few feet to confirm what she’d already known. She had everything she needed to succeed. The only things standing between her and victory existed in her own mind.

  “Okay,” Paolo said, coming closer again. “Turn three—”

  “Banks away from the fall line, I know.”

  “And the flats—”

  “Are getting softer as the sun hits them.”

  He nodded. “You’ve got this.”

  She stared at him, seeing her own fear reflected in his big, brown eyes. She snapped down her goggles to shield them both.

  His phone buzzed, and he checked the screen, probably as eager as she to break the eye contact.

  “Did they get through?” she asked, her heart rate ticking up a notch.

  He nodded. “They got a seat near the officials’ tent. The press can’t get to them there, but they’ll be able to see the big screen and the finish line.”

  Having Corey and the rest of the crew waiting at the bottom for her should’ve been the final piece in the puzzle for today’s race. Instead it only ratcheted up the pressure. What if she let them down? What if she failed again? What if all the training and the press problems and the stress she’d put everyone through all added up to nothing in the end?

  “You have to go,” Paolo said.

  She nodded grimly. “See you at the bottom.”

  He opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but either didn’t know what or changed his mind. She got the message. No one else could save her now. The support, the training, the posse at the bottom of the hill, none of them existed for the next two and a half minutes. This was her mountain, and she needed to face it alone.

  And yet, as she slid into the gate, she couldn’t quite shake the weight of the world from her back. Everyone’s hopes and dreams and futures hung on what she did now. How could she be alone and crowded at the same time? Had she come to rely on the others too much? Had she let their hopes get too intertwined with her own?

  Beep.

  Or worse, had she let her wishes for a future with Corey dilute the dreams she carried with her for decades?

  Beep.

  What if she ended up losing both?

  Beep.

  • • •

  “She’s got everything going right for her,” Holly said, squeezing her right hand as Elise exploded out of the gate.

  “Does she?” Tigger asked, clinging tightly to her left as Elise tucked into the first turn.

  Corey didn’t know, and she couldn’t have spoken even if she did. Hell, she could barely breath while she watched Elise rocket down the course. God, she was going fast, but they all went damned fast. Who could tell the difference between seventy miles per hours and seventy-two? Her form looked good to Corey, but what did she know?

  Elise blew through more turns at terrifying speed and whizzed past the halfway mark. The big screen overhead showed her as being a one-hundredth of a second off the leader’s pace.

  “She’s close,” Nate said. “She can make up time.”

  “But the flats are slow,” Nikki said. “Come on, Elise, come on.”

  Corey wanted to turn away. She’d never been so nervous during her own races, but she’d never felt so helpless either. She thought her heart might beat through her rib cage for the desire to take Elise’s place. Sweat pricked her skin and her muscles screamed from the tension. Did she put Holly and Nate through this kind of hell at every race? Surely not. Holly and Nate had never had anything like this invested in one of her races. So much of her life hung on that little clock ticking away as Elise roared down the mountain.

  “Here she comes,” Nate called, pointing to the place where the course bent into view from their spot in the stands. The location seemed so far away, and Elise looked tiny from the distance, but she also seemed even faster in real time. She flew over the last jump and somehow managed to tuck herself even tighter as she sped down the final drop toward the finish line.

  The crowd went wild. All around her people screamed and cheered, but Corey couldn’t even manage a squeak as her eyes locked on the same place Elise’s sought with her own gaze. As the cloud of snow she’d kicked up wafted away, her final time flashed across the score board, and Corey’s heart seized in her chest.

  Elise’s shoulders dropped, and she jammed her pole into the ground.

  “Fourth,” Nate said as the crowd around them let out a low groan.

  “Well,” Tigger said with false cheerfulness, “fourth out of sixty racers is still good.”

  “Not good enough for her, ” Corey said, her stomach roiling. “Will you guys excuse me?”

  “Of course,” Nate said. “We’re going to kick around the mountain for a while. Maybe we’ll even grab dinner out somewhere tonight.”

  “Probably a good idea.”

  “You guys could meet up with us later,” Nikki offered.

  Corey practiced her fake smile. “We’ll see.”

  Holly gave her hand one more squeeze. “Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” Corey said, then flashed her athletes’ badge to get out of the stands at the exit farthest from the press corps, and headed back toward the house.

  The walk wasn’t nearly as long as she would’ve liked. They’d chosen the place because of its proximity to the ski course. They could occasionally hear a cheer go up from the crowd while standing on their back deck. Earlier in the week, she’d hoped the sound would inspire them both. Now she worried the echo would haunt her.

  She had to stop a few times to wait for more security clearance, and then used a pass to get into the gated, slope-side community they called their home away from home. By the time she reached the front steps, a dark SUV pulled into the driveway behind her. Elise got out, slamming the door in her wake.

  “Hey,” Corey said softly.

  Elise lifted her blue eyes, and looked right through her.

  Corey’s heart froze, and the frost spread quickly to her limbs. All the warmth was gone out of both of them.

  “Come on inside,” she managed to mumble. “I’ll get a fire going.”

  “No,” Elise said, her voice hollow and flat.

  “No, you won’t come inside, or no, you don’t want a fire?”

  “No, I can’t do this anymore.”

  Corey’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Can you please come in long enough to define ‘this’?”

  Elise nodded and followed her through the door but stopped in the foyer.

  “I know you’re disappointed,” Corey said. “I know how hard you worked, and to come up short again has to feel terrible.”

  “It does,” Elise said, “but it’s not just today’s race. I feel disoriented, like I don’t know which way is up anymore. I can’t focus on anything. The racing pulls me away from what’s happening between you and me, while you take me away from the racing.”

  “You had a bad day,” Corey said slowly. “Please don’t set fire to any bridges because of one dark moment.”

  “This isn’t the dark moment. This is the first time I’ve seen clearly in months. The dark moment came at the top of the mountain today when I couldn’t see a future.”

  “You don’t need to be thinking about the future right now.”

  “T
hat’s not true,” she snapped, and Corey’s temperature rose again, thankful for the spark of life she’d heard there. “This is exactly the time for me to think about my future. I’ve worked my whole life to get where I stood today. I should’ve felt like I was teetering on the precipice of greatness. I should’ve thought of the finish line as the culmination of the pain and the doubt and the pressure. I shouldn’t have felt anything but anticipation of gold around my neck. But do you know what I thought about as the countdown ran out?”

  Corey was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear the answer, but she needed to know as much as Elise needed to say it. “What?”

  “Losing, and not just the race. I thought about losing you.”

  The words hit her chest like a lance, but before she could even formulate a response, Elise pushed on.

  “My dreams, my goals, all my work faded, and I worried about you. I worried about letting you down. I worried about the press’s reaction. I worried about your complete unwillingness to look ahead with me.”

  “I begged you not to do that,” Corey said, anguish creeping into her voice. All the effort she’d put into protecting her added up to nothing in the end. The frustration and exhaustion she’d fought to hold at bay seeped into her senses now. “I begged you to experience the race without obsessing about what comes next, but you can’t do it, can you?”

  “No.” Elise exploded. “And I don’t want to. I’m working toward a goal. I want to win, I want sponsors, I want my name etched in the record books. I haven’t worked every day since middle school to shrug my shoulders and say ‘oh well, those dreams didn’t matter.’ I want to chase them with everything I have in me for as long as it takes.”

  It’s always going to be something. Holly’s voice echoed through her ears. “What about what I want?”

  “What?”

  “You’re upset, and I get that. You’re venting, and I’m here to listen, to hold you, to bend the world to your will if I can, but it’s unfair to blame me for derailing the dreams of your youth. I’ve gone through everything you have, the training, the press, the competition, and I’ve managed to stay in the moment. I haven’t asked you to give me anything else. I haven’t ever asked you to commit to me beyond right now. All I’ve ever asked of you is to be here beside me in this moment.”