Page 110 of Freestyle
Breathing becomes a mechanical rhythm, timed perfectly with the cadence of my strokes. I turn my head to the side, inhaling sharply, the taste of chlorinated water lingering on my lips. I can feel my lungs expanding, filling with air, before I plunge back into the depths, surrendering to the embrace of the water once more. The world above is a distant memory, a chaotic blur that has no place in this moment.
I focus on the pull of my arms, the way they slice through the water, each movement a calculated effort to maximize my speed. My legs kick in unison, driving me forward, feeling the burn in my muscles, a reminder that I’m alive, that I’m fighting for something greater than myself. I visualize the finish line, the touch of the wall and the roar of the crowd, but here in the water, it’s just me and my determination.
With every stroke, I push aside the doubts that creep into my mind. I remind myself of the hours spent training, the sacrifices made, the love that fuels me. I feel Rowyn’s encouragement, her unwavering support, wrapping around me like a warm current. I’m not just swimming for myself; I’m swimming for us, for the bond we share, for the strength of our relationship.
As I approach the final stretch, I dig deeper, channeling all my energy into each stroke. My heart races, not from fear, but from the thrill of the chase. I can almost feel the finish line drawing closer, the water rushing past me, urging me forward. This is my moment. This is where I prove my worth, not just to my team, but to myself. I surge ahead, the world above forgotten, lost in the power of the water and the strength of my resolve.
In one final burst of energy, I launch myself forward, fingertips grazing the wall before I pull back, my body coming to a sudden stop. I’ve done it. I’ve won my heat.
The roar of the crowd, the whistle, the screech of the final time posted, none of it matters.
My chest heaves, lungs raw with the burn of victory, but I don’t care. I’m already moving, slipping out of the pool, water streaming off me in sheets, feet slapping hard against the tile as I shove past outstretched hands and stunned teammates trying to congratulate me.
Later.
Let them celebrate later.
Right now, there’s onlyonething I need.
I spot her instantly, Rowyn, leaning over the rail, cheeks flushed, her eyes wide with disbelief and something brighter—pride. Thatlook. That look is worth every stroke,every missed breath, every moment I thought I wouldn’t make it.
I reach her.
She opens her mouth, maybe to say something, maybe to breathe.
I don’t wait.
I pull her into my arms like I’ve earned it, because God,I have. I spin her, hard and fast, until she squeals and grabs fistfuls of my damp shoulders to steady herself. Her laughter bursts like wildfire across my chest, and then I kiss her, unthinking, unfiltered. Full of chlorine, adrenaline, devotion.
I poureverythinginto it, intoher.
The crowd erupts. People are screaming, whistling, chanting my name.
But all I hear is her heartbeat against mine.
“You,” I murmur against her lips, “youare my little lucky charm.”
She laughs again, a little breathless. “Pretty sure that was all you, Nix.”
“Not a chance,” I whisper. “You were with me the whole time. I swam like hell just to get back to you.”
Then a warm body presses into our side, arms curling around both of us.
Gray.
Still damp, still flushed from his own race and smiling that rare, unguarded smile, the kind that only shows up when he forgets to hold the world up for everyone else.
He hugs us tight, forehead resting briefly against Rowyn’s temple.
“We did it,” I say.
Gray’s voice rumbles quietly beside me. “You did.”
Rowyn threads her fingers through both of ours. “Youbothdid it.”
And for one golden moment, drenched in sweat and water and everything we’ve built, we just stand there.
Three hearts beating in sync. A team. A family. A love no one else will ever quite understand.
