Michael Phelps
I stared at Valencia for a few seconds before jumping up and getting my stuff as she had ordered me to do. I knew she was right and mentally cursed myself for not realizing it earlier. I wasn’t done swimming. How could I have been stupid enough to believe that I was? The drive to the pool was silent except for the brief conversation we had about Valencia joining the synchronized swimming team, I just smiled and congratulated her, knowing that it would help her get over her loss of dancing.
Climbing into the pool, I got started swimming laps as Valencia watched on, talking to someone on her phone. A few minutes after she hung up I heard Bob’s voice calling out to me.
“So you’ve finally figured out that you’re not done yet.” Bob said, the expression on his face one that I had missed, it was the one he always had before he kicked my back into shape. I grinned up at him, completing my first full practice in a year. I drove myself home, seeing that Valencia was laying down in our bed, looking completely exhausted, she had her first synchronized swimming practice while I was completing my first practice.
I kneeled down by the side of the bed where she was laying and thanked her. “You’re welcome. Just promise me that you won’t be so stupid about anything ever again.” She replied, smiling over at me. I kissed her gently, before heading to the bathroom to shower off.
I was lost in my thoughts when I heard the shower opening and turned to see Valencia climbing in to join me. I grinned at her and kissed her, pushing her up against the shower wall and cupping her breasts. After we finished our shower and finished drying each other off, I picked Valencia up and carried her to our bed, where we watched the news, the sports section mentioning both of us.
“It has been discovered today that Michael Phelps is back in the pool and is actually training for another Olympic games where he hopes to beat the current record of one Olympian earning eighteen medals by earning nineteen medals to complete his career,” the anchor reported. I looked at Valencia, asking how they could possibly already know that but was cut off when Valencia’s name was mentioned.
“Michael Phelps’ girlfriend, Valencia Vicory is also going to London to break some records, trying to be the first Olympian to earn a gold while competing in two different sports, swimming and synchronized swimming.”
Valencia looked at me with her perfect mouth dropped open in shock. I just shrugged at her unasked question, making a mental note to call my publicist and see how that information had already been leaked. Valencia and I spent the next three years completely engrossed in swimming and preparing for the Olympic trials, which she passed with ease, while I struggled through, and preparing ourselves for London.
I knew that Valencia did not want to rush into a marriage, but I also knew that I would not be able to live without this girl. I had bought a ring to give her at the right moment, three years ago. I had been holding on to it, hoping that I could present it to her. I figured that after London would be the perfect chance.
