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Trembling hands intertwined rink-side that first night in Zurich. The buzz from the crowd ebbing and flowing, roaring to life through the various acts that lead into their own.
For what was supposed to feel familiar in a setting she’d frequented now for several years, Gabriella felt far from at ease. Nail beds picked thin over the days prior. Bottom lip chewed to a layer no chapstick could soothe.
Beside her, Madison stood stoic but gave away her own anxieties in the way her head swayed, eyes closed as mentally guided them through a routine they’d had a mere three weeks to perfect.
The program was meant to be an exhibition, a visual of ‘what-if?’ for an open-minded audience. And yet, it felt like stepping onto Olympic ice with a world’s-worth of eyes on them, judged in a way no score card could ever reflect.
The moment had all started innocently enough. A little quip shared to set the mood, get them in the right headspace. Something sweet.
Their program wasn’t meant to be overtly romantic but the connotations were there. The longing looks shared across the ice. Tender touches of hands across cheeks and traced down over fingertips.
And so that first night, Gabi pulled her partner close as Marius Bear began to sing, nuzzling her mouth into blonde hair tucked behind an ear.
“You look so beautiful tonight.”
It was a simple statement; no more than five words. Not even all that unlike sentiments they had shared before. But the effect was immediate and Madison’s eyes shone and a touch of color rose in her cheeks, visible even in the shadows of the dimmed stage lighting.
And just like that, they were on. And so it became a thing. Each night, right before the pair took the ice, something sweet was exchanged between them.
Seven performances. Seven opportunities to share in a moment of love that felt, for the first time, like it truly belonged to just them. No cameras, press, partners, husbands or children. Something that transcended years of friendship and competition.
Each night seemed to tip toe closer to a line neither woman knew they could cross, one they had drawn in the sand years ago when they were just training mates riding on a global whirlwind.
They would pause on the edge of the ice, pre-show nerves all but forgotten. Sometimes they’d speak at the same time, falling into a fit of hushed giggles as each woman tried to beat the other to the moment.
By the time Art On Ice rolled into its final two shows in Davos, those little moments had become something much bigger. Whispered nothings had morphed into promises. Foreheads pressed together. Wishing that this fairytale bubble they’d stumbled into would somehow last past midnight.
For one final time, just one day after they’d spent Valentines Day apart as if life went on normally on the outside, they joined hands rink side.
“I lov-”
“I love yo-”
Three words hung between them, spoken simultaneously but lacking the bite of humor they’d had in these moments prior. Words they’d shared hundreds of times before which suddenly felt like the final credits scene of a movie they each desperately wanted to rewatch.
Tomorrow, they’d go back to how life had been before. Separate journeys. Ships passing on the ice.
Marius’s first notes echoed over the sound system–their cue. Not willing to let her partner go just yet, Gabi kept their fingers laced as they took the ice, pulling Madison close to her a touch too soon as they hit their opening pose.
One more routine. Three minutes. One last time.