Chapter Text
Wenjing searched for Cong at breakfast, but he wasn’t there.
“He went out for a run,” said Cheng, immediately noticing how Wenjing’s eyes scanned around the dining hall with disappointment. “He said he’s taking Boyang to a speed skating competition this afternoon.”
Wenjing shrugged. “No better way to ensure an Olympic gold medal than blowing off the final practice before the event.”
Cheng twirled her chopsticks in her slender fingers and raised a mischievous eyebrow. “Well, why don’t you run after him and bring him to practice?”
Wenjing blinked. “How do you know all of this?”
Cheng shrugged. “I’m intuitive. Most people don’t think I know anything because I’m quiet, but I pay attention when it counts.” She smiled. “And the chemistry between you and Cong has been pretty obvious for a while now.”
“What? You’re totally lying. That can’t be!”
“Everyone can see it.” Cheng leaned back in her chair and grinned. “I figure he’s had a crush on you for years, and you…you just needed some time to figure it out.” She tapped Wenjing’s nose with her fingertip. “Now you go out there and get your man. I made a bet that you’d get back together before the free skate, and I’m really sick of giving Boyang all my money so he can blow it on the latest PlayStation.”
When Cong came back from the speed skating competition, Wenjing was already sitting cross-legged on his bed.
He blanched and took two steps back, but he didn’t run. “What are you doing here?”
“I honestly don’t know.” She sighed. “I just have so much to tell you, and I don’t know where to start.”
“All right.” He dipped his chin. “Why don’t you start by explaining why you decided to humiliate me in front of the whole Chinese Olympic team?”
“That was really low, and I apologize.” She bowed her head, letting her hair slip forward to cover half her face. “I panicked. I had no idea what to say. I just…I didn’t expect that at all, and I didn’t know whether to say yes or no, so I just said no to be safe.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. But you kind of put me on the spot.”
He nodded. “I know. I guess I wanted to share that moment with the whole world. I wanted to make a memory that would last a lifetime.” He smiled to himself. “Do you remember how Jian Tong proposed to Qing Pang? He got down on one knee at an ice show and proposed in front of a huge audience, and everyone cheered. I guess that’s what I wanted for us. But it wasn’t going to work unless you loved me.”
“But I do love you!”
Cong’s face froze in a wide-eyed gape. He swallowed so hard she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Just not enough to marry me.”
“Cong.” She rose from the bed. “When I was young, I didn’t love you at all. You were big and scary — and frankly quite mean. As we got older, I started to respect you, and eventually I loved you as a friend. After my surgeries, I guess you could say I began to love you as a brother.” She placed one hand on his shoulder, and he didn’t flinch away. “Right now, I love you as a boyfriend. I love the way it feels to hold your hand. I love to eat dinner with you, to kiss you, to wake up next to you. I don’t want to let go of that feeling anytime soon.” He drew in a short breath, and she cupped his face gently with her small hand. “But I don’t know if I’m ready to love you as a husband. In fact, I don’t think I’m ready to love anyone as a husband. I’ve spent my whole life chasing this one dream…and I’ve never thought about what would happen next.”
His hands came down to lock around her waist. “That dream ends tonight, you know. In six and a half hours, we’ll either be crowned Olympic champions, or we’ll retire without the gold medal once and for all. But whether we win or lose, I will always care about you, and I am willing to wait for you until I die without an answer or you say yes.” He smiled and pulled her closer. “But I’d really appreciate if you could say yes.”
“We’ll see.” She kissed him, slow and sweet. “Now let’s get ready, babe, because we’re about to shake the stars tonight.”
“Representing the People’s Republic of China, Wenjing Sui and Cong Han.”
Wenjing closed her eyes and let the deafening cheers flood her ears. The roars rolled over each other like claps of thunder, pounding against her eardrums in a single rumble that drowned out any thoughts in her head. A finger of cold air kissed her back under the whisper-thin mesh of her ornate beaded dress.
Cong squeezed her sweating hand. His fingers were warm and familiar, the same hand that had held hers as she cried from the pain of her surgeries, the same hand that had guided her wheelchair back onto the ice for the first time, and the same hand that had playfully ruffled her hair when they were children. She knew him as well as a brother, yet there was something fresh and new blooming beneath the surface of the boy she’d always known.
They were driving blindly into uncertainty. Even at the end of this performance, they would not know if they were Olympic champions. Panfilova/Rylov had delivered a breathtaking free skate just moments ago, and both Tarasova/Morozov and Boikova/Kozlovskii were yet to take the ice. One slip, one stumble, could deprive them of the gold medal that had convinced them to join hands all those years ago. One breath, and the empire they’d been building could shatter like a castle of glass.
But when Wenjing opened her eyes and looked at Cong, she was smiling.