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It was the weight of it that really got her. The anger was expected, the sadness, the disappointment, the pain, even the guilt. But the heaviness was something else.
Marie thought about Joce eight years ago, taking the medal off as soon as it was around her neck because she couldn’t bear the burden of it. She forced herself to stand still as second-best was draped over her head.
She’d meant what she said to her team. She was incredibly proud of them. That would make it easier, eventually, but it didn’t yet.
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Daryl isn’t sure why the first thing she says when she sees her girlfriend at her door is, “are you even allowed to be here?”
It should be ‘what are you doing here,’ or even ‘get out.’ It’s the fucking Olympics, and Caroline Harvey is certainly not supposed to be in team Canada’s building the day before the gold medal game, leaning against Daryl’s door with her hands in her pockets.
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Hilary hadn’t known she’d broken the American scoring record. Marie envied that, too. She’d wanted those goals, wanted to take her place on top. The golden girl her entire adult life, she couldn’t help it.
She was pulled out of her thoughts by her phone ringing. She opened her eyes and reached over to grab it, eyebrows lifting when she saw the name scrolling across the screen.
Laura lifted her head, looking at her. Marie tilted the phone to show her.
Hilary Knight.