Page 107 of About to Fall

“Goodnight, Nico.” She yawned. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Margaux.” I kissed her forehead and we slipped out, leaving the door cracked the way she liked it.

◆◆◆

We collapsed onto the couch downstairs, exhausted in the way only an evening with an eight year old could make you.

Adrian sprawled across the cushions, pulling me down against him until I was tucked into his side, my head on his chest. He took a few selfies, then turned the camera around to capture the back of his head, examining her work from every angle.

“She did a good job.”

“She really did.”

“I'm definitely rocking this at the Olympics.”

I laughed. “The judges will love that.”

“The judges will be too dazzled by my flawless technical content to care about my bedazzled hair.”

His fingers found their way into my hair, playing with it absently. I could hear his heartbeat under my ear, steady and sure.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

“For what?”

“For being good with her. For coming tonight. For—” I waved a hand. “All of it.”

“I came tonight for me. Margaux is my new bestie.”

I kissed him because I didn't have words for what that meant to me.

We stayed like that, tangled together on the couch, talking in quiet voices about nothing and everything. He told me about the costumes he was having commissioned for the Olympics—apparently you needed months of lead time for the beading alone.

“Isn't that a little presumptuous?” I said. “Ordering Olympic costumes before you've officially made the team?”

“It's called planning ahead.”

“It's called tempting fate.”

“You're superstitious?”

“I’m a professional athlete. Of course I'm superstitious.”

He laughed, which made me laugh, and then we were both breathless on the couch. We debated turning on the TV to finish the last few episodes of Avatar but neither of us moved to find the remote.

Somewhere around ten I felt Adrian's breathing even out, his hand going still in my hair. I closed my eyes and let myself drift, warm and safe and content.

That's where my parents found us at midnight—asleep on the couch, Adrian's sparkly braids catching the light, my head still on his chest, his arms wrapped around me like even in sleep he wasn't letting go.

My mother took a picture. I knew because I heard the soft click of her phone camera before she and my father quietly disappeared upstairs.

Adrian didn’t stir so I tucked back into his chest and fell back asleep.

44. Adrian

I was in the lobby of the Saint Clément, scrolling through my feed when a familiar voice had me looking up.

“God, I can't believe you got me to step foot in Ottawa in January. I almost fell asleep when I got off the plane.”