He Broke Up With Me, and I Reclaimed My World Champion

In the locker room, I bent down to tie my skate laces, my fingertips trembling slightly from nerves.

This was the crucial battle that would decide the Winter Olympics roster.

Through the glass door, I saw Sophie by the rink, clutching her chest, her face pale.

Here we go again. Every important competition, she was always "just so happened" to feel unwell.

Ethan was crouching in front of her, his expression gentle. "Sophie, if you're not feeling well, why don't you go back to the lounge?"

Sophie shook her head, her voice weak. "No... I want to watch you guys compete. I'll tough it out."

Ethan nodded. He then stood and pushed through the door to the locker room, his brow furrowed.

No pre-competition encouragement. Instead, he was saying—"Linda, Sophie's not doing well today. Her heart's acting up. During the routine, just hold back a little—don't freak her out."

This is Olympic trials, and he was asking me to hold back?

I swallowed the absurdity rising in my chest and nodded out of habit. "Okay, I'll hold it back."

Ethan relaxed, patting my shoulder. "That's my girl. You win today, and we're going to the Olympics."

I lowered my eyes. For the sake of these seven years of partnership, for the Olympic dream, I put up with it.

The announcement came, and we glided onto the ice.

The first half was flawless. Spins, lifts, synchronized jumps—the commentator's excited shouts echoed through the arena. This was the absolute dominance of a champion pair.

The music built to its climax—our killer move: the triple-and-a-half throw jump.

Ethan took off, lifting me up. I used the momentum to soar into the air, spinning fast, feeling that familiar rush of centrifugal force.

It'd be a perfect score if I finish the landing.

But right as I was about to touch down—

A heart-wrenching scream came from the sidelines: "Ahh—! I'm so scared! I can't breathe!"

Ethan, who should have been my base, instinctively turned toward the sidelines.

The arms that should have caught me steadily lost their strength in an instant.

No cushioning whatsoever.

"BANG!"

The back of my head slammed hard against the ice. Sharp pain exploded instantly, and my vision flooded with red.

In that last moment before I blacked out, Ethan didn't even glance at me—he rushed straight to the sidelines and scooped up the trembling Sophie.

"Sophie! Is it your asthma? Where's your inhaler?"

I lay on the cold ice, unable to move.

From nearby came Sophie's tearful voice: "It's... it's all my fault... I got so scared when Linda jumped that high..."

Ethan rubbed her back while comforting her softly. "It's not your fault. It was my technical mistake—I didn't catch her. Don't be scared, I'm here."

Medical staff rushed up with a stretcher. Even as they carried me away, Ethan still had his back to me, completely focused on comforting the person in his arms.

As the stretcher passed by, I heard Sophie's trembling but clear voice: "Ethan... aren't you going to check on Linda?"

I closed my eyes, a cold smile tugging at my lips.

In the medical room, they said I had a mild concussion.

Manager Garcia kicked the door open, shaking with rage. "Linda! Where is Ethan? That jerk hasn't even bothered to check on you?"

I lay on the hospital bed, listening to the competition music from the other skaters outside, and suddenly, the tension I'd been holding for seven years just broke.

"He's with Sophie, I'm sure," I said calmly.

"It's always like this! The moment Sophie frowns, you turn into a ghost!"

I stared at the ceiling, my mind filled with the panicked look in Ethan's eyes when he rushed to Sophie—a look he'd never given me.

I suddenly realized something.

These past seven years weren't a partnership; it was just me putting on a one-person show.