Shining Through

by Elizabeth Harmon

  Since he wasn’t likely to run into her, maybe he should go find her. Just to say a friendly hello and wish her good luck. Wasn’t the point of the Games for people to put aside their differences and come together?

  He slipped beneath the yellow strap that kept the athletes on one side of the tunnel, to create a passageway on the other. After the Slovakians was the Spanish team, the South Koreans, Swedes and Swiss, then he was into the Ts. Taiwan. Turkey.

  Then, he spotted the navy blue Star Trek jackets Tabitha and Brett had joked about in Paris. Paired with red, white and blue knitted caps, they looked ridiculous, but then, who was he to talk? The Russian team wore long scarlet coats, red and white hounds-tooth pants tucked into white lace-up boots, and puffy white shapka. They looked like either Cossacks or clowns, he hadn’t decided which. When he found Tabitha, they could laugh about how silly they looked. They might even take a funny picture with some of her teammates. Russians and Americans united in sportsmanship and ugly clothing. He’d like that.

  He peered into the group trying to catch sight of Tabitha, or maybe Brett Stafford, whom he’d been happy to see qualify for Grenoble as well. A few athletes turned his way, but their faces were far from welcoming. Was it because of his Cossack-clown suit? Or was it because of the news that yesterday, a dozen Russian athletes had been banned from competition for drug use? It was all anyone was talking about. Even the athletes who had tested clean seemed to be suspect. Guilty until proven innocent. What else was new?

  Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom-boom.

  The kettle-drum cadence at the beginning of the Games’ musical fanfare sent a ripple of excitement through the crowd. Conversation quieted, and the line shuffled forward. Daniil dashed back toward the front, trying to reach his teammates before they came out onto the field.

  The crowd’s cheers rose to a din, and Daniil guessed that the French athletes had just emerged from the tunnel. His rink mates, pair skaters Phillippe and Marguerite were among them, along with Carrie Belikova, their coach. Daniil ducked back into line with his friends as the Russian team approached the entrance.

  Yelena, who’d almost quit skating at the end of last season, gazed around with already-shiny eyes. Ruslan, Gregor and Aleksandra posed for one more selfie. All of them had worked so hard to get here, and he hoped it wasn’t ruined the moment they walked onto the field, and were booed as cheaters.

  To his profound relief that didn’t happen. The cheers that greeted the Russian athletes were as welcoming as the cheers for everyone else. All around, spectators applauded and cameras flashed, and Daniil let himself be caught up in this glorious moment he’d dreamed about. He smiled and waved, drinking all of it in. Anton smiled and waved too. Though he’d competed in two Games as an athlete, he seemed to enjoy it just as much as a coach. Ilya, who had missed the chance to compete, looked reverent, and even a little emotional. Whatever Daniil had done to help his old coach be part of this, he was glad for it.

  They gathered in the middle of the stadium and the crowd fell silent, as an older woman dressed in the same uniform as the French national team, walked onto the field. The giant screen at the end of the stadium identified her as a former figure skater who had represented France in the 1958 Winter Games. Holding a flaming torch high above her head, she climbed the grand steps that led to the top of the stadium. There, she touched her flame to a basin. The crowd applauded as a streak of fire raced from the basin, up the hill to the towering torch. Flames burst from the caldron at the top, and fireworks exploded in the night sky.

  The Grenoble Winter Games had arrived.

  Sonic booms echoed off the mountains and reverberated in the stadium. As the on-field celebration began, Daniil realized that the United States team was lined up to the left of Team Russia. Now was his chance to find Tabitha so they could share this incredible night. He worked his way into the mob of athletes, who were hugging and taking photos, trying to find her in the sea of blue jackets. He bumped into a clean-shaven blonde guy.

  “Excuse me. I didn’t see you,” Daniil said, as he tried to squeeze past.

  The guy wore his arrogance as comfortably as a pair of shoes. He jerked his thumb back toward the tunnel. “The drug lab’s that way.”

  Daniil’s fist clenched inside his pocket, but nothing good would come from fighting this jerk, or his big buddy standing beside him. He wasn’t welcome here, and no one would help him find Tabitha. Surrounded by American athletes bouncing up and down and chanting, “U-S-A! U-S-A!” he wished her well and retreated into the tunnel.

  He could go back and join his teammates, but didn’t feel like it. They were happy and celebrating and deserved to enjoy every minute of tonight without him around to kill the joy. He had a headache anyway; the elevation kept making his ears pop. He hoped he’d be used to it by the time the team competitions began tomorrow night. Another reason he ought to go back to his room.

  Outside the stadium, the air was crisp and cold. He listened to the celebration and fireworks, but wanted only to put distance between himself and the party. He took the long way back, along the river embankment, glad for the quiet. Approaching the Village, he realized Anton and Ilya would wonder where he’d gone. He should text them that he wasn’t feeling well and would see them at practice in the morning.

  He sat down on a bench and took out his phone. The icon for his video-sharing app blinked on and off. Gregor must have taken video instead of a still photo. He tapped the app and waited as the vid downloaded. It seemed to be a large file.

  When it opened, the scene wasn’t of the tunnel and red Cossack-clowns, but a skating rink, with open sides and banners hanging above the ice. A lone skater dressed in black, glided into view. He drew in a breath as he realized the skater was Tabitha.

  He expanded the image and turned the volume as high as it would go. The music began with a somber piano chord, and a woman’s low, throaty vocal. He’d never seen Tabitha skate to this song, but this wasn’t a formal program— just one of those improvised ice ballets she created to express what was in her heart.

  She glided across the ice, pouring her heartbreak into every movement. Her sadness over what she’d said, and what she wanted to say, if only given the chance, was clear. When she skated past the camera, he saw that her face was streaked with tears.

  Daniil’s eyes burned too. His chest tightened at the lyrics’ mention of California, of unreturned calls and of former lovers separated by thousands of miles.

  The video’s time stamp showed 7 p.m., December 24. She’d sent him a message that day. When he hadn’t answered, she’d gone to her rink and poured her heartache into her skating. Daniil saw the hurt on her face and was devastated knowing he’d caused it. If there was the slightest chance they might find their way back to each other, he wanted it more than anything.

  As the video ended, he wondered where it had come from. He scrolled down for the sender’s name. “SAMI-T.” Below was a message; Call my sister, you asshole.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  TABITHA STARED DOWN AT HER phone, hands shaking, at the sight of Daniil’s number. She’d been back in her room for only a few minutes and had expected it to be Peter, or Brett, or maybe her mom or Samara.

  Not Daniil. Not in a million years.

  She answered, steadying her voice. “Hello?”

  “Ei, Tabitha, it’s me.”

  The sound of his voice took her back to happier times. Vancouver. Paris. “So I saw. It’s been awhile.”

  “Yes.” Was there a touch of remorse, or was she only hearing what she wanted to? “I was wondering if I could see you tonight. There are some things I want to say, in person.”

  In a state of shock, she’d told him the name of her hotel, and her room number.

  “I’m on my way.”

  She hung up and dropped onto the bed. Her shoulders and chest felt heavy, and she pushed her hair back from her face. What in the world did he want to say after all this time?

  She’d looked for him at the Opening Ceremony, eager fo
r just a glimpse. Even in one of those atrocious red coats and puffy white hats, she knew he’d be handsome. Unfortunately, when she caught sight of him, just after the torch lighting, he was hugging his old girlfriend Yelena. Then Yelena had hugged Ruslan, who was supposedly her boyfriend now, so it may have meant nothing. But regardless, the past was past, and she had to accept it, even if it made her sad.

  Now he’d called, asking to see her. And wild hopes blossomed that he might want to start over.

  There was a risk that after seeing him, she’d feel even worse than she did already. But she was also learning not to let fear rule her life. Sometimes that meant taking a chance on the ice. Sometimes it meant risking her heart. The love she still felt for Daniil was worth the gamble.

  Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock at her door.

  She opened it to find him standing in the hall, looking like himself, dressed in his black leather jacket, dark hair fringing his lined eyes. He offered that crooked little grin that made her heart race. “Hello, Miss Snarsky. Nice to see you again.”

  The shared memory brought a cautious hope, but she still felt shaky, unsure of what had brought him here. “Nice to see you too. Come in.”

  He strode in. His gaze lingered on the bed. “Nice room, but why are you not in the Village?”

  “Peter thought I would be less distracted if I stayed here.”

  “Distractions.” He lifted a brow. “Is that how you feel?”

  She’d called him a distraction, and a mistake. In reality, it wasn’t what she felt at all. She shook her head. “I saw his point, but I wish I’d stayed in the Village. I feel a little like the Ice Queen locked away in her tower.”

  A smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. “We both know you aren’t that.”

  “No.”

  Their gazes locked, and she pressed her lips together, wondering what he’d come to say. Anxiety roiled her stomach. Finally, he spoke. “I’ve missed you, Tabitha.”

  She nodded. “Is that why you returned none of my messages?”

  He sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets and walked toward the window. Then he turned back. “I thought a clean break was less hurtful. I lived through years of watching my parents torment each other back and forth before they ended it and went separate ways. You never wanted others to know about us, and after the interview that said you were putting your mistakes behind you, I didn’t see much reason.”

  Her cheeks flushed with shame, as she realized she’d hurt him with her words, just as he’d wounded her with his silence. “What changed your mind?”

  He lifted one shoulder. “Being here in Grenoble, with you so close, but knowing that still, we were so far apart. And then, there was this.”

  He reached into his pocket and took out his phone. Baffled, she took it, and then stared in shock at the video of herself skating to “Hello,” the night she’d gone to the rink with Samara. Who’d obviously filmed more than her umpteenth performance of Antigone. “Where did you get this?”

  “Your sister sent it tonight, right after the Opening Ceremony.”

  She shook her head. “Christmas Eve after you won Russian Nationals, I sent you congratulations. When you didn’t reply, it hurt, so I went to my rink, and dragged Samara along to record my practice. I didn’t know she’d filmed this too.”

  He came closer. “I hate the way I acted, and what I put you through. If you can forgive me and we can start again, that would mean more than any victory, any medal. You are the best thing in my life, and I love you, Tabitha.”

  She brought her hand to her lips, letting his words sink in. It was what she’d longed for and she wasn’t sure whether she could trust her own ears. Everything that had happened in the past hour was so surprising. She kept a stranglehold on her emotions as her mind struggled to process what he’d just said.

  Daniil’s gaze clouded and his brows knit together. “Did I say something wrong?”

  And then she knew this was real. He was real. She rushed forward into his arms.

  “No!” she whispered against his shoulder. “I love you, too, and this is everything I hoped for. It just felt too good to be true.”

  He stroked her hair and tipped her chin upward. She lost herself in his warm brown gaze. “Believe every word, my Angel. I love you. This whole time we’ve been apart, the best part of me has been missing. You gave me so much, and I’m a changed man, a better man, and you’re the reason.”

  “I changed too,” she whispered. “I want us to be together, and there was never a time when I didn’t. I was afraid of so many things. Being hurt and everyone knowing about it. Of losing what we’d both worked so hard for. But you weren’t a mistake. You mean the world to me. I wanted so badly to tell you that.”

  Joy brightened his face, and he brushed the pad of his thumb across her bottom lip. “You’re telling me now.”

  Then his lips were on hers, claiming her in a deep kiss that dissolved her sorrow and regret. He buried his hands in her hair, and she clutched the soft fabric of his t-shirt, her fists bunched against the hard planes of his chest. Once more, she was in Daniil’s arms, tasting his kiss, surrounded by his warmth and the scent of Polo Black. The Eastern lilt of his voice touched her heart like exotic music, as he whispered her name.

  “Tabitha. Moy angel. Moya lyubov.”

  In an instant they were on each other, kissing and stroking and tugging at buttons, zippers and snaps. His leather jacket was tossed on the floor. Her team jacket followed. They fell onto the bed, peeling away their remaining clothes, and she melted into his kiss and the delicious warmth of his hands and lips on her skin.

  Falling back against the pillows, she pulled him down, letting his naked warmth cover her. Her touch made him groan with pleasure. Aching with hunger only he could satisfy, she spread her legs, and lifted her hips, guiding him in. Their love was hot, sweaty, uncontrolled and perfect. Not perfect because she hid away her true self, but perfect because at last, she wasn’t afraid to let it show. She loved how he felt inside her, and when they came, she whispered tender words of love, knowing this was the man she was meant to be with, always.

  In the glowing aftermath, she rested her head against his shoulder, as they lay in bed, gazing out at the torch burning against the night sky. “I can’t believe we’re here,”

  “Here in Grenoble, or here in bed,” Daniil said, as he stroked her shoulder with slow, enticing motions.

  “Either,” she said, smiling.

  “We should enjoy every minute of this amazing time, and when it’s over, we can start the next chapter of our life together. I don’t know what that will look like. Now that I’ve broken with Nikolai, there are lots of questions ahead, but the one thing I know is that I love you.”

  “That’s what matters,” she said. “The rest we’ll figure out as we go.”

  “And we don’t have to go public yet. We’ll do this on your time. Just know that I’m here and I love you. You can always count on that.”

  She appreciated that he was willing to wait just a little longer. There was Brett to consider and her aversion to drama and controversy. But he’d straightened out his life and had made the final break from his father. That spoke volumes about his courage and character. She brushed her fingertips across the dark hair on his chest. “One of the speed skaters on my team said a Russian guy in a bad hat was lurking around just after the torch lighting.”

  “I wanted to see you in your Star Trek suit and take a picture together so we could always remember tonight.”

  “We can take one now.” She grabbed her phone from the nightstand and held it up over them.

  He gave a playful scowl. “What about our costumes?”

  She gave him a long slow kiss, then rolled onto her back and snuggled close to him, smiling for the camera. “Who needs them?”

  ~

  Early the next morning, Daniil kissed Tabitha awake, then rolled out of bed and grabbed his pants from the floor. She reached for him, trailing her fingers down his bac
k. As tempted as he was to stay, he couldn’t.

  She flipped onto her side and offered a sexy pout. Her wavy, bed-head hair fell against her face. “Do you have to go?”

  “I’m afraid so. We have an early practice before the team competition tonight. If I’m late, they’ll replace me with Domachev.”

  She made a face that was too damn cute and sat up in bed pulling the sheet over her beautiful, naked breasts. “They’d better not. I’ll be there tonight to cheer you on. And counting the minutes until afterward.”

  “America’s Sweetheart rooting for Team Russia? Could be controversial.”

  She grinned at his teasing. “I’ll root quietly. Until tonight, then?”

  He kissed her once more. “Until tonight.”

  The city was still quiet as he walked the short distance back to the Village, smiling a goofy-ass smile at everyone he passed. The lightness in his step was such a contrast to how he’d felt even just twelve hours ago.

  He bought a cup of coffee and admired the sunrise and the steep hillside where the torch flickered. Maybe he and Tabitha could ride up there in one of the pod-shaped cable cars that traveled above the river. They could look out over the city at the Alps.

  It would be the perfect place to ask her to marry him.

  Yes. He would do it on the final Sunday, after her competitions were over. That way, she’d know that win or lose whatever life held afterward, she could count on his love.

  His goofy-ass smile grew even larger.

  The Village was still quiet. Many of the athletes had celebrated late into the night and most of today’s competitions didn’t begin until close to noon. He expected Ruslan would wonder where he’d been. He and Gregor would assume he’d hooked up with one of the hot Slovakian skiers who’d been so friendly at the Opening Ceremony. Of course Daniil’s days of hooking up were over, and he didn’t regret it one bit.