My knees buckled and I fell into the chair behind me. After the meet today, I'd done therapy with the other gymnasts to help speed up recovery. Some were getting full-body massages, others were cupping or doing various chiropractic stretches, or wearing vibrating sleeves to increase blood flow. All so we'd be ready for the beating our bodies would take tomorrow for the chance to hold a coveted spot on the United States women’s gymnastics team. The faster we healed, the better we'd perform. Lactic acid in the muscles would only hinder the performance and make the joints stiff. It had to be released and that's what we’d focused on. A recovery that would normally take a week for any normal person to heal would take one night for a pro athlete.
I glanced around my cold, small room with two twin beds, and stopped when my eyes landed on the ice pail. I got up and walked over to the black bucket. I checked to make sure I had my room key before grabbing the bucket to go fill. I was supposed to meet Kova in just over an hour. I wanted to, I missed him terribly, but my gut told me to stay in the room and open the book. It was a feeling that resonated within my soul and I couldn't ignore.
I wasn't going to give up Kova, that was virtually impossible. What I needed for myself right now was to rest my body and ice my aching arm.
Maybe cry a few more tears too.
What I really needed to do was heal my heart and learn to love myself again.
Twenty
It was a quiet, somber morning.
Madeline didn't say much, but neither did Kova. My guess was that we all were going through the motions and preparing for the long day ahead of us.
I'd worked my ass off to finish in the top five yesterday, but that didn't mean anything today. Today was a new day with new scores and new routines.
Once the meet was officially over, both days’ scores would be taken into consideration along with previously required meets standings. Then the Olympic committee would convene in a private, soundproof room, while all fifteen gymnasts were placed in a separate room, watching the clock turn as we overanalyzed our routines, wondering where we could've been better. Everything we all worked so hard for came down to that moment. Only four would be chosen plus two alternates.
It was such a mind game.
Later this evening, the final women’s team would be selected and prompted to stand in the center of the floor of the arena. Chills raced down my arms just thinking about it. For that reason alone, I was a ball of nerves today.
I hadn't told Kova I wasn't going to meet him last night. I just didn't show. I couldn’t contact him, and he had no way of contacting me either. I felt bad. He’d probably waited for me. I imagined him looking for me every time the door opened, getting his hopes up. Eventually he’d realized I wasn’t going to show. He hadn't said anything about it, and it made me wonder if that was why he was all broody and quiet this morning.
The book Sophia gave me was an oddly interesting page-turner. I wasn't sure I'd like it at first. A self-help book definitely wasn't my style. But I gave it a shot and found myself having to force it closed to get proper rest for today. The author offered a thought-provoking approach to finding yourself that strangely resonated inside of me. I had to ask myself a lot of open-ended questions that kept going and going. I was oddly excited to read more once we were on the plane ride back home, tempted to try out the different methods to finding inner peace. I had a lot of turmoil left inside me.
"Does being here bring back memories?" I asked Kova, breaking the silence.
A distant smile touched his lips as he wrapped up my wrists for bars. "Yes, it does, actually. Some happy, some bittersweet."
It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. Kova had been to two Olympics but had to withdraw from the third one because of his mom’s declining health. If I remembered correctly, she'd passed away shortly after the Games that he’d missed.
"Is that why you're moody today?"
"I am not moody. I do not get moody."
A laugh gushed from me before I could stop it. He moved onto my other wrist. His movements felt mechanical. "You're the moodiest man I have ever met."
The corners of his mouth curled but he still felt a distance away. Why did he have to smile like that? So sexy and so relaxed and so at ease. Damn him.
"How many men do you know?" he asked, humoring me.
"A lot." I teased. He quirked up a brow. "I know many men."
It took effort not to laugh or smile. I knew no men.
"That so, Malysh?"
Blush decorated my cheeks. My heart fluttered with warmth at the sound of the nickname that caused a torrent of feelings inside me. Kova lifted his eyes to mine as he tore a piece of white tape with his teeth. The look in his gaze flooded my thoughts with memories of us together. Doing things I shouldn't be thinking about. It took me back to the day in my condo when the hurricane had hit and I'd carved the first letter of my name into his chest.
Using my other hand, I boldly tapped the left side of his chest twice with my index finger, right over the letter. His hand automatically reached up for mine. My heart sped up and I held my breath. Our eyes locked. Kova held onto my thumb while my fingers softly curled around his knuckles. I didn't have to say anything, and neither did he.
"Malysh…"
"I know."
I was his, and I always would be. The same went for him.