Life on the Edge

by Jennifer Comeaux

  “Will you come to the house after you pick up your car at the airport? It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” she whimpered.

  “Definitely.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I should get to sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be another long day.”

  Slipping on my flip flops, I went out into the muggy night to return Sergei’s phone. I knocked on his door and gulped when he answered. All he wore was a pair of gray pajama pants tied low on his waist. Even without my contacts, I could see the sculpted muscles of his shoulders and chest. My eyes drifted lower, following the light trail of hair down his flat stomach.

  Sergei gave me the same once-over, his gaze lingering on my thin tank top and tiny shorts. A flush of heat spread from the nape of my neck up to my cheeks.

  I handed him the phone. “Thanks for letting me use it.”

  “No problem. Can you take a look at the map with me?” He gestured behind him. “I think I found a shorter route.”

  I hesitated, but his magnetic eyes drew me inside. “Sure.”

  I picked up the opened map from the desk and held it close to my nose, while Sergei positioned himself next to me, accelerating my heart rate. He smelled like soap–really good-smelling soap.

  He pointed to a highway on the map. “We can bypass Baltimore and Philadelphia if we take Interstate Seventy-Eight. Less traffic.”

  My mouth felt drier than a saltine cracker. “That’s a good idea.”

  He cleared his throat. “Have you ever driven that way before?”

  “Mmmm . . .” I was having trouble focusing. Lack of sleep and food plus Sergei’s half-naked body hovering near me did not equal sharp thinking. “I don’t think so.”

  His hand dropped from the map and grazed my arm. This time I didn’t flinch. I couldn’t move. Sergei was so close one slight shift would put my face against his bare chest.

  “I know how much you want to get home.” His voice, so soft and tender, wrapped around me like a loving embrace.

  I made the mistake of looking up into his eyes. Their intensity hypnotized me, taking me outside of myself. The map slid from my fingers as I pressed my body to Sergei’s. His breath hitched, and he took my face between his hands.

  Our lips met, and I savored the initial spark. We eased into the kiss, our tongues slow dancing with each other. His fingers got lost in my hair, while my hands ran across his back. The heat of his skin on mine sent rapid impulses down to my toes.

  “I’m never going to let you down again, I promise.” Sergei’s lips touched mine as he spoke.

  In a flash, I remembered my hurt and anger when I’d found out Sergei had lied to me. The idea of going through that again terrified me.

  “This . . . this isn’t right.” I stumbled over the words and my feet as I backed into the desk.

  He brought me into his arms and tilted my chin upward. “Yes it is. I know you feel it.”

  I scooted away. “It’s not enough. I’m sorry.”

  I bolted from the room and pulled my key from my pocket. It fell to the cement, and Sergei grabbed it.

  “You’re not running from me anymore.” He held the card over his head, high above my reach.

  “I don’t know what else to say.” I tugged on his shoulder, but he locked his arms around me, trapping my hands between us.

  “Then I’ll say what I need to. I should’ve been honest with you. I should’ve trusted you could handle it. But I was too afraid you wouldn’t see me the same, and I couldn’t risk losing you.”

  “So, how am I supposed to know this won’t happen again? That you won’t keep something from me because you think it’s for the best?”

  “Because I don’t ever want to see that look in your eyes again. The one you had before you ran out of my apartment. You looked at me like I was a stranger, and it killed me.” His chest heaved against my hands, and tears crept into my throat.

  “I didn’t know what to think. I was scared that everything I thought I knew about you was a lie.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Sergei buried his face in my hair. “Please give me another chance.”

  A weight of emotion fell on me, weakening my knees, and I leaned into Sergei’s embrace.

  I felt his love in his touch, heard it in his voice, and saw it in his eyes. He hadn’t given up on me when I’d pushed him away. I thought of all the people who had lost loved ones that day, who wouldn’t have any second chances. They would give anything to have this opportunity. I couldn’t let fear hold me back. I had to listen to my heart.

  “I want you in my life forever.” My gaze met Sergei’s. “So no more lies. No more secrets.”

  His fingertips brushed a gentle path down my cheek. “No more. I promise.”

  He kissed me long and deep. When we stopped to take a breath, he wrapped his arms around me and held onto me as if he was afraid to let go.

  “I love you so much,” I whispered.

  “I love you, too. More than you know.” He gave me another spine-tingling kiss, and I caressed his face.

  “I’m so sorry I doubted you last night.”

  Sergei’s hands pressed against the small of my back, bringing our bodies even closer together. “You are the only woman I want to be with. Now and always.”

  Looking into his eyes, I knew I could trust him with my heart forever. I sank into the warmth of his chest as we shared our most passionate kiss yet.

  “Why don’t we continue this inside?” Sergei asked, taking my hand.

  I smiled. “I don’t know if I trust myself in your room right now.”

  “I’m that irresistible?” One side of his mouth curled up.

  “Dangerously.”

  He tenderly touched my face. “I’ve missed that smile.”

  “Well, you’re going to see a lot of it because I don’t plan on being apart from you ever again.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I hummed to myself and gave the cake batter one final stir before dipping my finger into the chocolate goodness. As I aimed my finger for my mouth, Sergei entered the kitchen.

  “Shouldn’t I get first taste since it’s my birthday?” He slid his arm around me.

  I pretended to deliberate and then broke into a smile. “Of course.”

  I lifted my fingertip to Sergei’s lips, and he licked the dollop of chocolate. His mouth was warm and too inviting for me to resist. I reached up and kissed him, tasting the sweetness on his tongue.

  Life was good. In the three months since September Eleventh, Sergei and I had become closer than ever. He’d shared with me the pain of his past mistakes, giving me a new understanding of him. I’d refrained from telling my parents the truth about Elena. Now that Sergei and I had put it behind us, I didn’t see the point. Mom had agreed to be more open-minded, and I’d relished bringing Sergei home to spend time with my family.

  On the ice, Chris and I had won gold medals at both our Grand Prix events, which qualified us for our second Grand Prix Final. In four days we’d travel to Kitchener, Ontario to face the top five teams in the world.

  Sergei returned my kiss with a longer one. “I wish I didn’t have to go to this dinner.”

  “I know, but you can’t let your friends think you’d rather spend your birthday home alone than go out to eat with them. They don’t know you have a super hot girl back at your apartment, baking you a cake.” I smiled and licked some batter from the big wooden spoon.

  “I’m going to eat as fast as I can.” He nuzzled my neck.

  I giggled. “Is it just going to be Will, Sydney, and Jeff?” I asked, naming the three coaches at our rink who Sergei was closest to.

  “And Viktor.”

  “Viktor? I didn’t think you talked to him much.”

  Sergei shrugged and picked up his car keys from the counter. “Will made all the plans. I’m just showing up.”

  “Oh! I want to give you your present before you go.” I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and hurried into the living room to retrieve the small gift bag from my purse.


  Sergei took the bag and shook it next to his ear with a devilish smile. Reaching inside, he pulled out the rectangular pendant on a silver chain. He looked closely at the Russian inscription and read aloud, “Always.”

  “I thought it would be something to wear close to your heart that would always make you think of me,” I said.

  He looped the chain over his head and slipped the pendant inside his sweater. “I love it. But I don’t think it’s possible for me to think about you any more than I already do.”

  He drew me near and kissed me softly. After a reluctant parting, he threw on his leather jacket and headed out. When he opened the door, I shivered and hustled into the warm kitchen.

  An hour later, the entire apartment smelled like heaven, and the cake was ready to be frosted. I spread the smooth chocolate topping over the cake and jumped when I heard keys opening the front door.

  “You really did eat fast!” I laughed and came out of the kitchen to greet Sergei.

  He wasn’t laughing or smiling. His eyes held an eerie stillness.

  “What’s wrong?” I rushed toward him.

  “My mother called. My father was in a car accident. He’s in surgery, and it sounds bad.” His voice broke. “Really bad.”

  “No . . .” I wrapped my arms around him and felt the tension in his body. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t know what to do. I want to be there, but we have the Final next week.”

  “You should go home. Chris and I can manage. Your mom needs you more right now.”

  “Viktor offered to go with you and Chris to Canada if I go to Moscow.”

  I wrinkled my nose against Sergei’s shoulder. From what I saw at the rink and heard from Aubrey, Viktor’s temperament was quite different from Sergei’s. I wasn’t sure his presence would be helpful to my nerves.

  “One of the team leaders can help us,” I suggested.

  “I know, but I think it would be better for you to have a coach there.” He slowly loosened his grip around me. “I should try to book a flight. I just hope by the time I get there it’s not too late.”

  I took his face in my hands. “Don’t even think that. He can pull through this.”

  He nodded numbly and embraced me again.

  After Sergei made a reservation for an afternoon flight to Moscow and packed his small suitcase, we lay on the couch and stared at his cell phone on the coffee table. Hours had passed since he’d first heard from his mother.

  I fell asleep in the comfort of Sergei’s arms and didn’t awaken until he jerked upright. He grabbed the phone, and I prayed for good news.

  My limited Russian vocabulary didn’t allow me to follow the conversation, so I watched Sergei’s eyes. Encouraged by their steadiness, I held my breath as he hung up and relayed the update.

  “The surgery went well, but he has severe liver damage. He’s still in critical condition.”

  I rubbed comforting circles on his back. “That’s great about the surgery. One small step at a time.”

  “My mother sounds exhausted. She said two of her friends have been with her at the hospital since the accident. I was worried she might be alone.”

  “It’s hard not having any family nearby. She’s going to be so happy to see you. And think how great it will be when your dad wakes up and finds you there.”

  He reclined onto the sofa and gently laid me down with him, my back snug against his chest. We dozed on and off the rest of the night. In the morning, Sergei called Viktor to accept his offer. Every time the phone rang, the fear in Sergei’s eyes was clear. The only call from his mother let us know nothing had changed in his father’s condition.

  When it was time for Sergei to leave for the airport, he drove me home. We stood on my doorstep, the overhang sheltering us from the light dusting of snow.

  I squeezed his hands. “I’m going to ask everyone at church to pray for your dad. You have to keep believing the best.”

  “I wish you were coming with me.”

  “You know I would if I could.”

  “You’re going to do great this week.” He gazed firmly into my eyes.

  “We’ll make you proud, I promise.”

  With great tenderness, he placed his lips against my forehead. “You always make me proud.”

  I soaked in Sergei’s embrace, not knowing how long I’d have to wait for the next one. Neither of us wanted to let go, but time wasn’t on our side. Blinking back tears, I watched Sergei get in his car and drive away.

  ****

  “What is it Sergei always says?” Chris asked and, in his best Russian accent, answered his own question. “Just like practice.”

  I smiled at his spot-on imitation, but inside my heart ached. We were minutes from our short program, and Sergei wasn’t in his usual spot next to me, giving me encouragement. He was thousands of miles away at his father’s bedside, waiting for him to wake up. I’d hoped by now my prayers would’ve been answered, but Sergei’s dad remained unresponsive.

  Viktor stood a few feet from us in the tunnel to the ice. A man of few words, his ever present stern jaw and critical stare spoke for themselves.

  Chris and I skated onto the ice, careful to dodge the stuffed animals that had been showered upon Hyatt and Wakefield. Little girls in red velvet dresses swarmed around us, picking up the Canadians’ loot.

  Once the crowd settled down and we were introduced, I blocked out all thoughts except the required elements we needed to execute. As the instrumental beat of “Hotel California” blared through the arena, I tried to put pizzazz into my movements, but my mind focused on the technical elements. One by one we completed the jumps, spins, twist, death spiral, footwork, and overhead lift with no bobbles, no stumbles. Everything was crisp and clean.

  Viktor clapped and nodded. “Very nice, very nice.”

  In the Kiss & Cry, I watched the replay of our perfect side-by-side triple Lutzes and wondered if Sergei had been able to see our program. He and his mom had been at the hospital around the clock, but he’d said there was a television in the waiting room.

  I waved at the TV camera aimed at us. “Sergei, we miss you.”

  The announcer began reading the scores, so I put my attention on the large scoreboard. The marks were high, 5.8’s and 5.9’s, and the placements unanimous–all number ones. I shook Chris’s arm and let out a quiet squeal. He pumped his fist and gave me a tight hug. We’d never placed ahead of Hyatt and Wakefield in any phase of competition. The glass ceiling had just cracked.

  We moved backstage and watched Oksana and Denis skate on the monitor. They made no mistakes, but the degree of difficulty of their jumps was less than ours. The judges didn’t seem to take that into consideration, though, as they awarded the reigning World Champions with both higher technical and presentation scores.

  “Crap,” I muttered.

  “We should’ve had the tech mark,” Chris said.

  We said all the right things to the media, but on the bus to the hotel, we both stewed quietly. We were World medalists, not the new kids on the scene anymore. I thought that would earn us more respect from the judges. Passing the Canadians for the first time was a positive step, but the Russians remained a big hurdle.

  I’d just walked into my room when my cell phone rang, and I smiled when I heard Sergei’s voice.

  “I have some good news,” he said.

  I stopped in the middle of the room. “He’s awake?”

  “He’s still pretty groggy, but he said a few words. He saw I’m here.”

  I looked at the ceiling and made the sign of the cross. “That’s the most wonderful news ever.”

  “The doctor said he has a long road ahead of him because of the damage to his liver, but he’s more encouraged now.”

  “I wish I could be there to give you a big hug.” I folded one arm across my chest, imagining Sergei within my grasp.

  “I wish I could’ve been there to give you a hug after the short tonight.”

  “You saw it?” I fidgeted with my ponytail.
“What did you think?”

  “I think you nailed it. There was just one thing.”

  “I knew there had to be something,” I said with a wry smile.

  “I think the performance aspect could’ve been a little better, but the program was close to perfect technically.”

  “That’s something we can easily improve next time. When you get home, we’ll do an inspired run-through for you.”

  He was quiet, and I thought he might have another critique to give.

  “About getting home . . .” He paused. “I have some not so good news. I lost my passport. I don’t know if it fell out of my bag at the airport or in the cab to the hospital. I just realized it today.”

  I sank onto the bed. “How long will it take to get a new one?”

  “I’ve talked to some people I know with the Russian Skating Federation. They have contacts in the government that can hopefully speed up the process.” He took an audible breath. “But it could be a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?” A jolt of panic shot me to my feet. “Nationals is in less than a month.”

  “I’m going to do everything I can to make it home in time.”

  The resolve in Sergei’s voice calmed me for a moment, but then I thought about the possibility of Nationals without him. I’d be solely responsible for Courtney and Mark, who were top contenders for the novice championship. And even though Chris and I were heavy favorites to win our second national title, the pressure and the stakes were higher this year because of the Olympics. Only the first and second place teams would earn spots on the Olympic team.

  I filled my lungs with air and exhaled slowly. Worrying wouldn’t help Sergei or me; I needed to step up and give him my own reassurance. “I’ll make sure the kids are one hundred percent prepared.”

  “I know you will. I have total confidence in you.”

  I sat again on the bed and ran my finger along the seams of the comforter. “I can’t imagine not seeing your face for weeks.”

  “I can’t imagine not holding you in my arms for weeks. I miss you so much already.”

  An ocean separated us, but Sergei’s raw emotion touched me as if he were standing in front of me. I took another deep breath and steadied my trembling jaw. The judges weren’t going to feel sorry for me because my coach and greatest source of comfort wasn’t around. I had to stay strong and secure or my Olympic dream could be lost with one slip of the blade.