sixth medal overall for these Games. That has to feel incredible.”
“It does,” Isaac said. “God, it feels amazing. I can’t believe I pulled that off.”
“You made up a lot of time in the last one hundred meters. Was that part of your strategy?”
Isaac wanted to laugh. “Well, I knew the first hundred were my weaker strokes.” Isaac had to stop to pant because he hadn’t gotten his breath back yet. “So I just tried to swim well, but I knew I could make up the time with the breast and the free. What was the time?”
“Uh. 1:56.”
Isaac nodded. A sub-two-minute race was… really fucking good. “Oh. That’s… that might be a personal best.”
“It is, yes. Now’s the time to have it, right? At the Olympic Games?”
“Yeah.” Isaac wanted to curse, but the TV camera loomed large in front of him.
“We’ll let you go, but congratulations again, Isaac.”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
After a couple of laps in the warm-up pool, Isaac was done for the night, so he got his things and went back to the locker room. He had to change into the official warm-up suit for the medal ceremony—God, he really had just done that—but more than anything, he wanted to get back to the Athlete Village so that he could be with Tim.
He knew the other swimmers would want to party again. A bunch of them were flying home Monday and were also done racing because Saturday’s contests were limited to the long-distance races and the IM relay. Which meant roughly three-quarters of the swim team wanted to spend the weekend in an alcohol-and-sex-fueled haze. Isaac had already been invited to three parties. But all he wanted was Tim.
Adam stopped him on his way into the locker room. He grinned. “Goddamn, Isaac.” Adam bit his lip and shook his head, a rare show of emotion for him. Then he pulled Isaac into a hug. “Goddamn. I can’t believe you had that in you.”
“I wanted it,” Isaac said.
“I know. And I know how hard you worked for it. You deserve it.” After slapping Isaac’s back, Adam backed up and said, “When we went to the Trials, I knew you’d win some races there, that you’d qualify for a bunch of things here. But when I got to Madrid, I thought you had a chance to medal in a couple of things, but I knew our odds were long. To see you swimming the way you have been….” Adam bit his lip again, clearly trying to keep whatever he was feeling at bay. But his voice broke when he said, “I’m so proud of you, Isaac. So proud. Of what you’ve done, of how far you’ve come. We… we thought we’d lost you for a while there, and I’m so glad you’re back.”
Isaac’s chest seized, and tears prickled at his eyes. It meant a lot to hear that from Adam, who was always so stoic. Isaac said, “I’m glad to be back,” and it sounded watery.
Adam hugged him again.
Isaac knew he wouldn’t come to another Olympics. He might swim another year or two, maybe try for a few world champion medals, but this was the twilight of his career. It was a spectacular twilight, the kind that looked like someone on acid had painted it on the sky, but the sun was setting nonetheless. His body knew that, which was probably why he’d been able to pull so much from it this week. But it was definitely the end.
Adam had to get back to the pool to coach someone for the next race, so Isaac went to find his locker and change.
And there was Tim.
Tim stood leaning against Isaac’s locker, casually examining his nails as if he just happened to be there, but Isaac knew better and wanted to whoop with joy.
“Did you see that?” Isaac asked.
Tim grinned. “My friend Ginny and I caught the races tonight. I got in here by lying to the security guard that I forgot something here earlier and flashing my pass.”
“Smart guy.”
Tim looked up and down the aisle, so Isaac followed his gaze, likely making the same mental calculations. The locker room was crawling with other swimmers, but in this little row of lockers, there was no one but Isaac and Tim. “I had to see you,” Tim said softly.
“Thank God,” Isaac said. Then he kissed Tim.
That felt amazing, because it was all Isaac wanted. He wanted to win swim races and kiss Tim. If he could have those things forever, his life might just turn out