Page 64 of Hate You Most

“They’re in here,” she said and kneeled down onto the floor. Viktoriya's gaze lingered a second too long. She caught herself, knew she was purposefully staring at Dakota, but didn't look away.

Dakota whipped her head around. “Enjoying the view, Volkova?”

She pulled the black hoodie over her nose and tried to conceal the way her cheeks burned crimson. “Fuck you.”

They were alone in the apartment. They were married. She allowed herself to feel the embarrassment as it bubbled in her throat.

Dakota turned fully back around with a large smile, and a black box in her hands. She turned around, pulled out another box from the bottom of the closet.

Viktoriya put the box on the coffee table, leaned forward and peered inside. White leather that had gone slightly soft with age, the blades covered by pale green hard guards. The laces had been tucked into the boot carefully. Dakota had taken time and care into putting them away.

Something tightened in Viktoriya's chest. The skates were hers, but they were worn and weren't ones she remembered ever owning. Skates and blades needed to be replaced around once a year when skating competitively—these probably only had a month or two left before they became unusable.

Viktoriya glanced up. “You kept these? They are worn.”

It wasn’t a question.

Dakota tugged a loose curl behind her ear. “I never thought you’d want me to get rid of them.”

Viktoriya swallowed. She wasn’t sure why that landed the way it did. She told herself it was practical—of course Dakota would keep them, they were expensive, they mattered professionally—but that didn’t explain why she hadn't bought new ones, or the way they’d been stored, or the way Dakota had gone straight for them without hesitation.

Viktoriya set the skates gently on the floor beside her and stood.

“I will change,” she said. Her voice sounded steadier than she felt.

In the bedroom, she moved deliberately, as if sudden movements could dislodge something fragile inside of her. She was already wearing leggings and a hoodie which were perfectly acceptable to train in, but she just needed to feel like herself today.

She didn't find any of her skating clothes in the dresser, it was filled with jeans and shirts and leggings. Whatever. She decided to raid Dakota's dresser on the opposite side of the bedroom instead. She found a black tennis skirt and stockings in the last drawer and put them on along with a black shirt.

She took her time. Something about today felt too important to rush.

She stepped back into the living room and paused at the foot of the stairs. Dakota stood in the middle of the living room with her back to Viktoriya, pulling her hair back into a loose ponytail with her hands. She had already changed—leggings, a brown jacket. Viktoriya watched her for a second longer than she meant to. She looked beautiful, and apparently, she was all hers.

Dakota turned around as she tied the elastic tighter and paused. “What?”

“Nothing,” Viktoriya said quickly, shaking her head. “You just… nothing. Ready to go, yes?”

Dakota’s mouth curved into a small smile as she took her skates without a word. Viktoriya definitely hated Dakota, there was no doubt about that.

The rink only belonged to the two of them.

The lights were dimmed to a soft glow that reflected off the ice in long, pale streaks. It was completely smooth with not a single skater having gone across it before they arrived. The air was cold enough to sting her lungs, and yet Viktoriya welcomed it. It was freeing—the ice didn’t care who she was supposed to be, only how she skated.

She stepped onto the ice and pushed off.

The first glide sent a thrill straight through her chest. Her blades cut against the ice and the sound was so familiar to her that she couldn't stop herself from laughing. A full, unguarded laugh escaped her lips and echoed faintly around the rink.

Dakota looked over her shoulder across the ice. “There it is.”

“What?” Viktoriya asked as she skated a loose circle around her.

“That smile,” Dakota said. “I was worried I’d never get to see it again.”

Viktoriya tilted her head, grinning. “Oh, shut up!”

She picked up speed, letting her body lean into the curves. Her body knew exactly what it was doing, like no time had passed. Her mood had instantly lifted. She had found a clearing in a dark and foggy forest.

She tried a two-foot spin to start off with. It was nothing ambitious. Just a gentle pull-in with her arms close and eyes unfocused. The rotation came easily, almost embarrassingly so. When she stopped, she laughed under her breath.