Prologue
My life was fine. Steady. Safe. Chapters closed, no loose ends.
Then my phone lit up.
One text from Cole.
Skating together again. Being together again. Passionate for the crowds again,
Cole. The man I used to move with in perfect sync under lights — gold at the Olympics, silver at Worlds — hands clasping in holds that felt like promises we never let ourselves make. In love on the ice. Just partners off it.
One text, and the now gates are open again. Everything rushing back — the cold bite of ice, the heat of his palm on my waist, the way my body still knows exactly how to arch into his grip.
And the part I never let myself admit out loud yet: I never stopped feeling it. I just got really good at pretending I had.
![[Moving to Galatea] What We Never Healed](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_b00b828931c645f2eccdf3396cb15498.jpg)
