Closeup of Katarina and Heath staring into each other’s eyes right before their music begins. A reverent hush has fallen over the stands.
Garrett Lin:This was it. Four minutes, and it would all be over.
Chapter 82
Our music was about heartbreak, but that’s the last thing I felt as Heath and I skated.
We’d created most of the program’s choreography ourselves during those long winter days in Boston, and so it was perfectly suited to us, each element a knife’s-edge balance between tenderness and power.
Searing eye contact as we slowly circled each other during the darkly romantic piano intro. Legs pumping in time with the vigorous bow strokes of the strings, while Heath cupped my chin with whisper-soft hands. Pressure building as the song pulled back to only vocals and a violin tremolo, and we launched into a lift that peaked along with the orchestration.
That free dance was the story of us: Heath and me, spinning away from each other one second, only to clutch each other close the next. Never still, never simple, always pushing and pulling, shattering each other and putting the pieces back together again.
We were adults, and we were children, and we were skating at the Olympics and also on the frozen lake back home, laughing and twirling and holding each other tight. It felt like flying and falling and being caught, all in the same instant.
It felt like seconds and hours and years, and then we were finished. The music still vibrated in my bones, and Heath pressed his forehead to mine, and I could think of only one thing that might make the exquisite moment even better.
So I did what I had stopped myself from doing the night before.
I kissed him.
Ellis Dean:The whole crowd was on its feet. Even the Russian fans.
Garrett Lin:Bella and I were screaming, crying, hugging each other—until I told her to settle down before her heart rate got too high, and she hurled a pillow at my head.
Inez Acton:Watching at home, you couldfeelthe energy in that arena. It was electric.
Francesca Gaskell:I didn’t watch. I couldn’t watch.
Nicole Bradford:I wish I could have been there. I can only imagine how thrilling it must have been in person. I was so proud of them.
Jane Currer:Shaw and Rocha could be arrogant, inconsistent, insubordinate, outright reckless. But when they were on, they wereon.And that night, they were flawless.
Veronika Volkova:The scores had not even come through yet, and everyone was acting as if they had already won. The Olympics are not a popularity contest.
Garrett Lin:They’d done it. They’d really done it. When they kissed, I thought…well, I won’t pretend to understand Bella’s relationship with Heath, but I thought she might be upset. She wasn’t. She never stopped smiling.
Kirk Lockwood:We didn’t need to see the scores. We were all certain—one hundred percent, no doubt in our minds certain—Shaw and Rocha would be the Olympic champions.
Chapter 83
Even with everything going on around us—the screaming fans, the flashbulbs, the flowers and plush toys raining down—it felt like we were alone.
My whole world narrowed to the heat of Heath’s lips, the sweat on the back of his neck slick under my palm, the weight of him leaning in like he couldn’t get near enough to me.
I drew him closer, deepening the kiss. I didn’t give a damn who was watching. All that mattered was him and me and what we’d just done on that ice together.
By the time I tasted the blood, he was already falling.
As the crowd goes crazy after their free dance in Sochi, Katarina and Heath share a passionate kiss. He bends toward her, hands on her waist.
Then his legs crumple, and he collapses to the ice.
Kirk Lockwood:No one knew what the hell was happening.
Inez Acton:At first it looked like he had lipstick on his mouth. That red shade Kat always wore. I was wearing it too, actually, for the viewing party.
The camera zooms in on Heath. His skin is wan, and bright red paints his lips.
