Page 67 of Hate You Most

Dakota watched her carefully. “We don’t have to talk about it right now.”

Viktoriya nodded. “I just—” She laughed lightly, shaking her head. “If we stopped competing in 2019, that means we got married then, yes.”

Dakota was quiet beside her for a moment too long, and Viktoriya almost regretted having asked.

“We didn’t do it like you’re probably imagining,” Dakota said finally.

Viktoriya lifted her eyes. “How am I imagining it?”

Dakota gave a weak, almost apologetic smile. “You know, big feelings and long speeches of how much I love you. Me on one knee or something.” She shook her head. “It wasn’t like that at all.”

“Then how was it?” Viktoriya asked. Her voice stayed even, but her chest was tight. She was bracing for impact.

Dakota took a breath. “It was… practical. I think that's a good word for it. Practical and private.”

She watched unwavering as Dakota bit her lip. ”After we both retired in 2019, you started coming back to the States for longer visits at a time. Neither of us could use the excuse of a competition, so you were on vacation here. You stayed in my apartment for a week a few times a year, and then you had to go home, back to Russia. Every time you left it just made everything worse and worse. We both realized we couldn't go on like we had been. We were running out of ways to pretend this was only temporary.”

Viktoriya frowned. “I could not stay?”

“No,” Dakota said gently. “Your visas were short and closely watched. Russia was also… tightening things,” she said, hesitating. “Your father was also paying close attention and asked a lot of questions.”

That landed. Viktoriya didn’t know why, but it did.

“So,” Dakota continued. “We talked about our options. Lawyers and Immigration stuff. It was all very unromantic.” She huffed out a quiet laugh. “And eventually… marriage was the only thing that made sense.”

Viktoriya’s fingers curled into her palm. “For a green card?”

“Yes,” Dakota said. “But it wasn't just that.” She leaned forward, her elbows resting against the boards. “It wasn’t a fake marriage, it meant something. It just wasn’t safe to be… open about it to the world. We went to a courthouse. I wore my favorite black dress, and you wore a dark red dress with straps that you loved, and boots you refused to replace even though they were literally falling apart.”

Viktoriya blinked. The specificity made her throat tighten.

“We didn't tell anyone,” Dakota went on. “There wasn't an announcement and I didn't get to tell my family anything. We had no rings until thirty minutes before, because you insisted, in a panic, that it would have been meaningless without. I have the four photos we took saved on a hard drive somewhere.”

“And you agreed?” Viktoriya asked. “You said yes?”

Dakota swallowed. “I did. Because you stayed.”

Silence stretched between them.

“I thought that once you were here, once you didn’t have to leave anymore, that we’d figure the rest out. That the fear would loosen its grip on us,” Dakota said softly. “That maybe one day we’d get to be brave. That day hasn't happened yet, and some days I'm afraid it'll never come.”

Viktoriya stared at the cuts in the ice in front of her. She could make out a faint heart, if she squinted hard enough.

“But I didn’t stay, yes?”

Dakota locked eyes with her.

“You did,” Dakota said. “You stayed with me, and you cut off contact with your family and with Russia. They haven't understood how much you mean to me, and they're not going to. I love you, Volkova. You can forget it if you have to, but I will still spend the rest of my life repeating it to you, until you understand just how much.”

Viktoriya's heartbeat sped up upon hearing that, her palms sweaty. She didn't know what to do with that information. She wanted to look away, but she couldn't bring herself to move away from Dakota.

She wanted to say it back, but something in her mind didn't let her.

Viktoriya sat with the emotion in her body, heart pounding. “I don’t remember any of this.”

“I know,” Dakota said. “I’m not asking you to say it back, or to feel married by now. Or even to believe anything just because I say it.” She hesitated, then added, “I just didn’t want you to think I made it up, or that it didn't mean anything because it certainly meant something to me.”

Viktoriya looked away slowly. “It sounds like it meant a lot.”