The first time Matty saw Anja again after Christmas was when she drove up to get Ben at the ranch. Normally, Rob drove him back home, but his truck was in the shop. Matty could see that Rob and Anja had talked about what happened, or at least had moved on from it. He knew from experience with Elliot that when it came to old friends and bygones, drawn-out discussions weren’t always necessary—the love between people who’d shared a lot together was usually enough to let the hurt go with a sincere “I love you and I’m sorry.”
Matty leaned against the front door jamb, drinking hot water and bitters from a mug and watching Rob and Anja exchange a hug as Ben climbed into the backseat. Anja tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced toward Matty with a bashful expression. He lifted his steaming mug toward her and let his lips soften into a smile.
He wasn’t angry about what she’d said to Rob or him at Christmas. It’d been the truth. He was leaving and Rob did deserve better—not only better than a guy who was on his way out the door, but better than a life that didn’t fulfill his potential.
Matty cleared his throat as Anja’s snow boots thudded on the steps to the porch. The media instincts in his brain clicked on, and he straightened up, put on a cheery smile and thought, Charming-Matty activate in the shape of All-Is-Well and Never-You-Mind.
“Matty, hi.”
“Hello, Anja. You look lovely today. That blue coat is great on you. Brings out your eyes.”
Her eyebrows flew up as if that was the last thing she expected him to say. Matty wasn’t even sure why he’d defaulted to his usual compliments—true as they were—to deal with her. He didn’t have the energy for a big talk or apology. Not when he was busy trying to live through the current state of anticipation he experienced twenty-four hours a day. It always lingered in the back of his mind—he was on his way out, but not yet. The living in-between was exhausting. He didn’t need any additional emotional clutter in his life right now.
“I wanted to apologize to you for the way Christmas ended up. I had too much to drink and, while that’s no excuse, it definitely doesn’t bring out my best qualities. I don’t take back what I said, but I do wish I hadn’t said it at quite that time and in that particular state.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” Matty assured her, taking one of her gloved hands in his mug-hot fingers. “I promise. I’m not offended.”
“Good. I’d hate to think that somewhere out in the world Matty Marcus was skating around with the opinion that Anja Lovely was a bitch.”
Matty laughed and shook his head before drawing her in for a hug. Her hair smelled like lavender, and he took a deep breath. “If I don’t see you again before I leave…” His throat felt tight and his hand holding the mug shook a little. He hoped he didn’t spill any on her as she hugged him back. “Just…take care of him,” he whispered. “Take care of them both.”
“I’ll do my best,” Anja whispered back. “Thank you for waking him up. He’s been sleeping for too long now.”
She pulled back and smiled at him, and Matty blinked away the sudden burn of tears as she clomped back down the stairs to the car. After another kiss to Rob’s cheek, she was off, and Rob stood and waved as they drove away.
“Good talk?” Rob asked.
“She had nothing to apologize for.”
“Oh, I think maybe she did.” Rob joined him in the doorway. Snow started to fall, adding to the blankets already covering the fields, mountains, barn, and house. It was beautiful. Rob’s arms around him were warm. Leaving this all seemed impossible, and yet not skating—not competing—wasn’t even an option.
Valentina and his real life waited at the other side of the winter. This was a beautiful respite. And that was all it could ever be.
***
Margaret and George returned on a crisp morning in March. Matty and Rob waved to them from the front porch as they pulled up in the white hired car from the airport. Rob helped George with the luggage while Margaret chatted effusively to Matty about their travels.
As Rob took the heaviest suitcase out of George’s hands, despite his protests, and hefted it up the stairs to the aired-out master bedroom that Matty had painstakingly vacuumed and dusted the night before, Margaret grabbed Matty’s arm and tugged him down to the sofa next to her.
“I was hoping you and Rob would get along. He’s wonderful, isn’t he?” She smiled expectantly.
“He is,” Matty agreed.
“So, you’ve become good friends?”
“Absolutely.”
Margaret’s eyes narrowed. “Very good friends?”
Matty’s throat felt tight. Any other person would be happy to let Margaret know that, yes, he and Rob were in love and were more than just good friends. But Matty was leaving tomorrow, and the love they shared was deep enough that he’d never ask Rob to wait for him. Rob deserved the freedom to discover and pursue his dream just like Matty needed freedom to pursue his.
“I suppose so.”
Her face filled with delight. “Do tell.”
Matty shook his head, feeling his cheeks heat up. He reached for the necklace around his neck, fingering the tab with a six-point-oh score on it, thinking of Christmas and Ben’s faith in him, thinking of the corn maze, and of Rob’s mother’s soup. What could he possibly tell her that could sum up how he felt—what he’d gained by living here these months?
“I assume the horses are still alive?” George asked, leading Rob back downstairs, his cowboy boots clacking on the wood floor.
“Alive and kicking, sir. And I didn’t burn the house down. Or bust my head open out on your pond. Not a single party was held here. It’s all in order.”
He didn’t mention that early on he’d had reckless sex with a then-stranger on their kitchen floor, because they certainly didn’t need to know about that. He still didn’t look at the kitchen floor in quite the same way himself.
George harrumphed softly and then nodded his head. “Good work. The place looks nice. Neater than usual, I’ll give you that.”
Margaret rolled her eyes. “Now you’ve made me look bad, Matty.” She laughed and looked at Rob speculatively before turning back to him. “Now tell me all about your training.”
After a few minutes of listening to Matty’s descriptions of the improvements his training had wrought, Margaret entreated Matty to drive to the Stumptown Ice Den and show her. Rob, having arranged for Bing and the hands to deal with the ranch duties for Matty’s last day in town, tagged along. George remained behind, apparently disinterested in his hired house-sitter’s figure skating prowess.
After Matty showed off for close to an hour, Margaret congratulated him on his improvement. As they left the building, Matty walked between Rob and Margaret. It was strange to think he’d probably never skate on that rink again. Or the Pages’ pond. Yuliya Yasneyeva had officially retired.
“Do you still have packing left to do?” Margaret asked.
“Just a few things.”
He’d mailed boxes of his things back to his mother in Virginia, and had left only enough clothing to get through the last week. Which, admittedly, was still two large suitcases of items, because he never knew just what he might feel like wearing. But except for the clothes on his back and an outfit for tomorrow, everything was packed. His flight left Missoula at noon, and it was nearly a three-hour drive. He’d be waking up very early.
“Well, let’s get on back. You’ll want to spend the night at Rob’s, I imagine,” she said. “I know he has a nice dinner planned for you. Something special he said.”
Matty glanced at Rob, who smiled softly and reached to take hold of his hand.
Margaret chattered more about her trip as they drove back to the ranch. It was only as they pulled up to the house that she turned to Matty and said seriously, “I’m proud of you. You did everything you said you would and more. This time you’ll be ready at the Olympics. I know you will.”
Matty grabbed her in a hug. The gear shift stuck into his side, but he held on for a long time. “Thank you,” he whispered vehemently in her ear.
He meant it for so many things. Thanks for the overpaid job that gave him a chance to compete again. Thanks for the time away from his usual life to re-focus and pull himself out of the self-pity he’d been wallowing in. Thanks for living next to Rob, who had shown him so much love and devotion. Thanks for her belief in him when so many others had lost it, and when maybe he’d started to lose it himself.
“Thank you. I won’t let you down.”
“Of course you won’t. You’re the amazing Matty Marcus.”
***
Of course the special dinner Rob had planned was his mother’s Southwestern Chili Burger and Bean Soup. They sat at the kitchen table and Matty ate like he was starving, which—given how little he’d eaten in the last week between his usual fastidiousness and his nerves about leaving—he might have been. Rob sat back and watched him eat with satisfaction and a touch of sadness in his eyes.
“I love watching you eat. You make everything that goes in your mouth look like it tastes so delicious.”
“Everything?” Matty said, lowering his lashes. “Even your gorgeous dick?”
“Especially that.”
Matty pushed the empty bowl away. “We don’t have much time left. Just tonight. Take me upstairs now.”
Rob shook his head. “First we need to talk.”
“No,” Matty said, his stomach tightening and his voice going rough. “I don’t want to talk because then I’ll cry, and I don’t want to spend our last night together crying.”
“Does it have to be our last night?”
Matty closed his eyes and held himself as still as possible, trying to take the pain as it smashed into him. Tears stung, and he waited for it to ease up. Pain always did, if only long enough for a person to breathe.
“We could call each other. Text and email.”
Matty shook his head, feeling a tear slide down his cheek. “I won’t have time for that. I won’t have time for anything but skating.”
Rob was quiet, but then he whispered, “I could wait. However long.”
“No. You’ve got a dream to follow.” Matty opened his eyes and met Rob’s teary gaze. “You’ve got to find it and pursue it.”
“But you’re—”
“I’m not your dream. I can’t be.”
Rob’s chin dropped down to his chest, and he went rigid, his breaths coming in short, difficult gasps. Matty felt a small well of anger. They were both crying, and this wasn’t how Matty wanted their last night together to be. He wanted laughter and tenderness and sex that tore through his soul like a tornado. He wanted Rob to take him upstairs and make him forget that he wasn’t going to be here tomorrow.
Then the anger ebbed away, and he was left with the desperate need to comfort Rob. He slid to the floor and walked on his knees to him, pushing himself between his legs and wrapping his arms around his quivering body.
“I love you. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so, so sorry.”
Rob gripped him by the shoulders and lifted him into a searing kiss.
They didn’t talk after that except for the usual words of pleasure and desire, affection and want. Upstairs in bed, Rob’s body moved into him urgently again and again, stretching out their ecstasy for hours. As their emotions overwhelmed them, Matty loved and hated that they both cried more than once as they made love all night, knowing it was the last time.
***
The airport was bustling despite the early hour. Matty’s eyes were swollen from crying and his lips were swollen for other reasons. His chin and cheek sported beard burn like none he’d ever had before. He hadn’t even bothered to shave to keep from irritating it further.
Rob’s own chin was red and rough from Matty’s stubble. He was pale, and his hands shook whenever he took them out of his pocket. His eyes, which Matty kept searching out in an attempt to memorize everything about them, were brilliant green and red-rimmed, and Matty tried to recall how they’d looked that day on Whitefish Lake when he’d thrown Matty for jumps.
“The line for security is just up here.” Rob’s voice sounded weary.
“Is that a real stuffed bear in that case? Does PETA come throw blood on the glass?” Matty asked, but he didn’t really care.
Rob ignored the question and pulled Matty to the side of the causeway. He held both of Matty’s hands in his and gazed down at him. “I love you. You’re going to be amazing. Train hard. Do what Valentina tells you. Don’t decide that you don’t deserve it. Let the judges do their job for themselves—don’t throw the towel in and do it for them. Remember that I’m counting on you to believe in yourself.”
“I promise,” Matty whispered.
“Be happy, Matty. I just want you to be happy.”
“Me too. For you.” Dammit, the tears were starting up again. “I want you to be happy so much. Every day.”
Rob nodded.
Matty wiped his face with the back of his hand and gave a wobbly smile. “By the way, that whole wooing with a chicken thing works pretty well. Next time you invite a guy for dinner, definitely kill a chicken for him. It’s really flattering.”
Rob shook his head and bent down to kiss Matty’s lips softly. “I’ll never kill a chicken to woo any guy but you.”
“No, don’t say that. There are so many chickens that need to be killed for so many guys. I want you to be happy, Rob.”
“Shh. You sound ridiculous.”
“I know, it’s just…promise me you’ll kill chickens.”
Rob rolled his eyes, and yet his lips quirked into his first true smile Matty had seen since before their talk at dinner. “I promise to kill chickens.”
“Okay. That’s all I needed to hear.”
The airport announced that Matty’s flight would begin boarding shortly. There was no way to further delay going through security.
“I love you,” Matty said as Rob led him to the line, gripping his hand.
“I know.”
“Tell me.”
“I love you, Matty.”
Then it was Matty’s turn to present his photo identification and boarding pass. The officer, a woman, looked at his picture and then at him, and broke into a smile.
“I know you. Matty Marcus. My daughter was rooting for you at the Olympics.”
“Tell her thank you.”
The woman lingered over his boarding pass and then asked shyly for an autograph. When Matty finished scrawling his name over a Post-it note the woman grabbed from her podium, he turned to say goodbye to Rob.
He was gone.
Matty almost burst into tears as a sharp, breathtaking pain tore into his stomach. He’d wanted one more kiss. One last goodbye.
Matty removed his shoes, put them in the bin, then removed the necklace Ben had made him, putting it in a small black plastic bowl. His heart beat so hard he felt like he was having a heart attack. His breaths came in short, sharp bursts, as he struggled not to cry.
Rob was gone.
It was time to face the real world. It was time to be a champion.