“Because my life is training.” I snorted. “Simple. They don’t tell you that when they show us all looking fancy. They don’t tell you about the sacrifice, the blood, sweat, and tears.” My lips curved as, with my thumb, I rubbed the face of a medal I’d been working years to gain. “I mean, it’s worth it for me. I have these. But for most people, they don’t come home with a medal, do they? They’re winners too. We all made it to this event, we all achieved enough success to get here. We deserve a round of applause.”
Though I sensed I’d surprised her, she smiled at me. “Do you have any regrets?”
“Yes.” I took another bite of cheesecake.
“What are they?”
The recorder whirred at her side, and I stared at it for a second, wondering how candid I should be when there were other implications that wouldn’t just involve me, so I decided to start off small. “I wish a couple who helped me through some tough times had been there to watch my races.”
Her eyes widened. “Who were they?”
“The driver and the housekeeper of the Ramsdens. They died in a car crash a few months before I graduated high school.” My mouth was tight with grief—I still missed Peter and Janice. “There was a pile up in the O’Neill Tunnel. It was a freak accident. No one else was even injured.”
“I’m really sorry.” Distress creased her brow. “I can see their passing still affects you.”
It did. My throat was tight as I muttered, “They were the first kind faces to get me through a tough time. They had faith in me, and I would have liked them to see me coming out on the other side, you know?” More than that, I’d have liked them to retire and for me to help them achieve what they always wanted—to run a bed-and-breakfast in Maine. I could afford to give them that now, but it was too late.
Death, as usual, made it too late for me to help the people I loved.
“Makes perfect sense,” she concurred softly, and I was almost amused by how gentle she was being with me, but I was more grateful than anything else.
Wanting to change the subject from a wound that was still open, I carefully tacked on, “I was a victim of bullying.”
“I remember. It’s been well-documented in your rise to success.”
Meaning a lot of journalists had gone out of their way to dig up dirt ever since I’d won my third gold. As I ratcheted up more wins, they’d found more and more dirt to uncover, and because my past was so juicy, there was plenty to find.
One of the reasons I was doing this interview was to put my take on it. Last night, when he’d confirmed the times with Renee, Robert had told me it was a smart way to control what went out. An interview, one-on-one, talking about what I wanted out there in the world.
There was a lot of responsibility there. I could really fuck up, change the world’s perception of me, of my people too, and ever since, I’d been thinking about how best to approach the many facets to my history.
“Well, the bullying was more hazing that went too far. It messed up a lot of people’s lives. I regret that.”
“But you didn’t do anything wrong. You were the victim!”
Her shock had me shrugging. “My life has proven to me that sometimes, victims come in all shapes and sizes.” I forked up some more dessert. “So, when Mom killed herself, I thought it was because she was so in love with my dad that she couldn’t face another day without him, remember? Nanny told me that to make me feel better.”
Renee frowned. “I’m not sure how that was supposed to make you feel better.”
My lips twitched. “Nanny was a realist. I always thought we moved away because of that. Suicide, in my culture, is a sin, and it taints a household. It would’ve tainted me. Made me unmarriageable.
“But when I was old enough to look for myself, I went back to where it happened and asked around.”
“Why?”
“Because my memories were different than what Nanny had told me.” And I’d been miserable enough to wonder if I was just as bad as she was. As weak. There’d been times after Adam’s marriage where…
Well, I didn’t want to think about that now.
“Did you find something out?” she questioned softly.