𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

Chapter fourteen

The early morning light streamed through the windows of the ice rink, casting a pale glow over the freshly polished surface. Jihyo stood at the edge, her skates poised on the ice, her breath coming out in soft puffs of condensation. The weight of the upcoming performance hung heavy on her shoulders, but there was a fire in her eyes—determination that hadn't been there before.

This time, she wasn't aiming for third place. She was going for gold.

Suho stood a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her. His usual stern expression was in place, but there was a softness in his eyes, a silent encouragement that she had come to rely on. Despite everything that had happened between them—the lies, the shattered trust—he was still here, pushing her, believing in her even when she struggled to believe in herself.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice steady and calm, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside her.

Jihyo nodded, taking a deep breath as she stepped onto the ice. "I have to be," she replied, her voice firm. "This is my last chance."

Suho's gaze never wavered, and he gave a single nod of approval. "Then show me what you've got."

With a determined exhale, Jihyo pushed off, gliding smoothly across the rink. The cold air brushed against her face, the familiar sensation of the ice beneath her feet grounding her. She moved through her routine with precision, every jump, every spin executed with the grace and power that had brought her this far.

But as she skated, her mind kept drifting back to the events of the past few days—the shattered vase, the threatening notes, Harrise's betrayal, her father's reappearance, and the turmoil with Suho. It was all too much, too overwhelming, and yet she couldn't afford to let it distract her now. She had to focus, had to give everything she had left.

As she finished her routine, her skates came to a stop in front of Suho. He was silent for a moment, his gaze sweeping over her with a critical eye. Then, finally, he spoke.

"Good," he said, his tone still reserved. "But not good enough."

Jihyo frowned, her chest tightening with frustration. "What do you mean?"

"You're holding back," he replied, his voice firm. "I can see it in your movements. You're skating like you're afraid to make a mistake. That's not going to win you gold, Jihyo. You need to push yourself further. You need to take risks."

She clenched her fists, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm trying, Suho. I'm doing everything I can."

He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat. "I know you are," he said quietly. "But you're letting your fear control you. You need to let it go. Trust yourself. Trust that you have what it takes to win."

His words struck a chord deep within her, and for a moment, she was speechless. She had been afraid—afraid of failing, of letting everyone down, of not being enough. But standing here, with Suho's unwavering gaze on her, she realized that she couldn't afford to let fear dictate her performance. Not now.

She took a deep breath, letting his words sink in. "You're right," she admitted softly. "I've been too focused on not failing. But I can't win if I'm not willing to take risks."

Suho nodded, a small, rare smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Exactly. Now, let's try that routine again. This time, give it everything you've got."

Jihyo met his gaze, a new resolve building within her. She pushed off again, this time letting go of the fear that had been holding her back. She felt the difference immediately—her movements were sharper, her jumps higher, her spins faster. It wasn't perfect, but it was closer to what she knew she was capable of.